Protect

I remember when I received the news that my mother died.

I had been in the Temple for nearly eleven years by then, and was nearly at the end of my acolyte training.

Evening in Bevelle was always beautiful. Deepest black amidst the shining jewel tones. I was walking home from a meeting with one of the more influential men of the Order, an understudy of Grand Maester Mika. He hinted at several things I wasn't particularly interested in. Political moves and advantageous alignments. Busywork. My main focus was simply the defence of the people. Bureaucracy did not appeal to me. The monks seemed to be grooming me for better things. Sometimes there would be the odd trinket in my belongings, things to adorn my uniform. Sometimes an extra portion of meat with my dinner. Sometimes a special invitation to meet with a visiting Maester.

Special treatment resulted in resentment.

The streets were bustling; people were preparing for the upcoming festival, as well as for the pilgrims that would be arriving for the upcoming festival. I recognised a fair few of them from the temple, and nodded as I passed some fellow acolytes as I turned down a shortcut alley.

"Auron!" One of them called out, and I turned.

"Oh, Gillam, good eve-" I began, when someone grabbed me from behind. I reacted quickly, and elbowed whoever it was in the side of the head. Several more hands clamped around my arms, and someone kicked my legs out from under me. My knees slammed into the stones, and I winced.

"Where were you tonight, huh?" Gillam approached me, holding a nearly empty bottle. He looked down at me on my knees, and took a swig. "Off being the pet prince?"

"I had a meeting with Understudy Marchand," I replied. I sometimes wished I could lie, but I never had any talent for it.

"We know. We're sick of you getting pampered and paraded around, like you're something special," he spat, and twirled the bottle. It flipped out of his fingers, and smashed against the alley wall.

I narrowed my eyes, wondering if this was all a joke. "I need to be going."

"Sure, but before you go…" Gillam wound up, as if he were aiming for a blitzball, and kicked me hard in the face. An unsettling crack split the air, and white hot pain pierced my skull. Their hands released me, and my hands flew to my face. Blood. A loose, but not lost tooth. My nose wasn't the same shape.

My eyes watered, and I watched the others leave. When I was sure they were gone, I let myself react. I gasped, and steeled myself, about to push my nose back into place. On three, I thought to myself.

One.

Two.

"Excuse me?"

What? I looked around, raising my eyes to the newcomer. A plainly dressed man, holding a note.

"Ah… are you acolyte Auron? From Locke Village?" When I didn't answer, he consulted his note. "Long black hair, and a grumpy face. Probably wearing red."

"Yes," I stood up, using the wall for support. "Do you need help?"

"No, but it looks like you could," he shifted from foot to foot. "I, ah, I have a message for you."

I wiped some of the blood flowing from my nose, raking past the cut on my lip. "Speak, then."

"Well, it's… it's about your mother."

"She is well?" I hadn't heard from her in a few months. Unusual, but I imagined she had been busy with the new hired help. I held my nose, wishing I had a handkerchief to stem the flow. "I have plans to visit next-"

"She's dead," he blurted out.

I stared.

The silence was stilted, interrupted by the revelry on the streets.

"Dead," I repeated.

"I'm sorry," he said, holding out a small bag. "These things were left to you."

I reached out with both hands, as if I were going to embrace my mother. He dropped the bag, and bowed.

"I'm truly sorry."

I said nothing, and stood still, looking down at the rough cloth bag. Slowly, I pulled the drawstring, and opened the bag.

Bright blue and yellow, dented and shining, rough and smooth.

Mama's beads.

Tidus received more than beads, but I can't imagine it was welcome. Certainly, just to see her, to feel the warm touch of his mother is what he really needed. Not a houseboat and his father's legacy.

He had confined himself to his bedroom since… since it happened. I understood. I myself haven't moved from the sofa, wrapped up in blankets. I've been so cold.

Absently, I spun the largest of Mama's beads, running my fingers over the white ring encircling it. I wondered what she might have looked like at the end. Peaceful, I hoped. Not screaming and wailing, striking out in pain and confusion. I shifted the beads, rotating them over my fingers and examining each one in turn.

"A strange rosary," Gemma commented. I didn't look up, still counting Mama's beads. "It is not your fault. Know that."

I pressed my lips together, and swallowed. "Yes, it is."

"It's not. She would have passed eventually," Gemma's voice was harsh. "Perhaps not exactly in that manner, but it could have been worse. She may have turned in front of the boy."

I looked up. "I thought you said I was mistaken."

"I couldn't say she was a fiend in front of Tidus," Gemma picked at frayed piece of wicker on the arm of her chair. "He's already had to deal with losing her, we don't need to make it worse."

I saw the sense in that. "What… what should I do?"

"Hm? You're staying here, aren't you? I wonder, do you have any experience with purifying a space?"

I nodded, remembering the rituals to clear residual pyreflies. Summoners were the ones to send the spirits, but sometimes monks could manage a clean up of sorts. People often said the areas where a fiend appeared felt unsettling, so we were called in to bless the land and banish any lingering pyreflies.

"Would you mind giving the bedroom a bit of a spiritual tidying up?"

"I can do that," I nodded. "Shall I do it now?"

"Probably."

I stood, pushing myself up with the arm of the sofa. I could feel Gemma's eyes on me as I headed down the hallway.

The door was still ajar; I entered cautiously. Empty. The window was shut and curtained, stifling.

"Order of Yevon… Order of Yevon, rid the fallen for they are lost souls and have no peace without the embrace of Death." I muttered, gripping Mama's beads. Pyreflies reacted to my words, and wormed their way out of the bed. Not surprising. The bed, where she existed since her husband left, where they slept, where they-

I blushed. Ridiculous of me. I can hear Jecht laughing at me. He always thought it was strange that I showed no interest in the women that flocked around him in taverns.

"Come on, Auron! Just enjoy yourself!"

I could feel heat coming to my face every time he goaded me about it. I blamed it on the campfire, and poked at the embers with a long stick.

"There's gotta be someone for you, man. What's your type?"

"Please, Jecht, I don't have a type."

"Sure ya do!" Jecht spoke with unwavering confidence. "Every man has a type."

I shook my head. "I don't." It was true. Women had never appealed to me. I preferred the solitude of Yevon, perhaps.

"You're probably one of those guys with a wild side, I bet. Only the loosest of-"

"Jecht!" Braska interrupted, and I sighed with relief. No one was better at silencing Jecht's depravity better than Braska. "Leave him alone." He spoke as if he were babysitting toddlers. I imagine it must have felt like that, with our constant bickering.

Jecht relented, and we were silent, looking into the fire. I looked over the flames at Braska, who was mending my glove with practiced ease. Jecht was spinning his blitzball and kept glancing at me. He caught my eye and winked at me roguishly.

"Eyes," I said eventually.

"Huh?" Jecht said. "You like 'em with eyes, eh? That's… something, I guess."

"Blue eyes," I clarified. My face felt redder than ever.

"Well, what do you know? Our little Auron is growing up!"

Braska smiled, and I could tell he was looking at me. Jecht moved closer to me, and put his arm around my shoulders.

"Tell me more about your perfect woman, Auron! She already sounds like a dream, with her pretty blue eyes."

"Get off me!"

"Nope, let's hear your deepest darkest desires, buddy!"

"I don't have any!"

I didn't.

That's not entirely true.

I cleared my thoughts, and began repeating the prayers. There was a strange presence in the room.

Like Jecht. Perhaps the pyreflies were reacting to my memories. I lifted my arms, mimicking the Summoner's movements at a Sending. The pyreflies whirled and merged, into a larger one in the centre of the room, hovering over the bed. "Order of Yevon, rid the fallen for they are lost souls and have no peace without the embrace of Death." I said again, and reached for the pyreflies. They burst, and the feeling that Jecht was nearby was overwhelming. I whispered his name, wondering if he would reply.

"Hey, Auron," his voice. My heart stopped, and I froze. It sounded like he was right behind me. I couldn't turn to look. Time stopped, and I focused on my hand in the swarm of pyreflies. They were halted in midair.

"Jecht…"

"You made it. Thanks."

"Jecht, I'm sorry!" It all rushed towards me, flashing images of the end. Braska, Jecht, his wife. All people I should have protected. "I failed you! I-"

"Nah, man. I still need you to do something."

"Anything," I said. "Anything you need."

"Just… live, okay? Try to be happy."

I was silent, wondering if these were really Jecht's words or a complicated construction in my own mind.

"C'mon, smile."

I couldn't force a smile to my lips. I trembled, and felt tears rolling down my cheek.

"Ah, you'll get it eventually."

His presence was diminishing, and I tried to hold on to it. "Don't leave!"

"I'll see you around, Auron. Take care of my son."

"I promise," I said, with a shaky voice.

He was gone.

I stood in silence for a time with my head bowed. Tears hit the floor intermittently, and I made no attempt to stop them.

Smile. How could he expect me to do that right now?

I took a deep breath. I have to try. The air was still dusty; I glanced at the closed curtains. Sunlight speckled them, attempting entrance through the loosely woven threads.

Resolutely, I crossed to them, opened them wide, and shoved the window open. Salty fresh air oozed in like a cloud, stirring the dust motes in the air. The smell of the sea was refreshing, and the cool air chilled the tears on my face. I wiped them away.

I'll try, Jecht.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Who was that?

The armour spoke.

To this new person. The dead in the dream.

Finally.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Gemma made no attempt to make Tidus leave his room. Perhaps she knew it would be a lost cause, like trying to get his mother to leave hers.

I had just woken up from a nap when she announced dinner. We ate silently, and she delivered a plate to Tidus' room. I heard her speak at his door, but there was no reply.

"I have to leave for the night," she said, as the sun was going down. "I have another meeting regarding the will."

"Alright," I said. "Is there anything I should do?"

"Do you know how to cook?"

I considered that, wondering if basic ration preparation counted. "Somewhat."

Gemma smiled, and consulted the bookcase. "Here. 'Healthy Meals for Two.' This should illuminate some things."

"I see," I said, accepting the book and laying it on my lap.

"Try to sleep, but read if you can't." Gemma put on her coat, and slid her shoes on. "There will be a man from the city coming here tomorrow to assess the will. He'll want to meet you."

I wondered if my apprehension showed on my face. "Oh, uh, when?"

"2 o'clock sharp. Try to be presentable?"

"Certainly."

"If you need anything, I'll be next door."

When she left, a resounding silence filled the room. This is where I will live. This is my home now. The houseboat rocked, and I steadied myself. I wondered if I would ever get used to that.

After about an hour, when the sun was completely gone, I heard Tidus' door open and close. The slight sound of his footsteps approached, and he lingered in the doorway, watching me, just like last night.

I said nothing, waiting for him to do something. He sniffed, and scrubbed his face, and stepped into the halo of the lamp light.

"What did you do to my mom?" he asked.

I said nothing, afraid of the effect my words could have. He approached me, his little hands balled into fists. Tears shook in his eyes, and his cheeks were red.

"Did you say something mean?"

I still remained silent, finding it difficult to meet his eyes.

"Did you hurt her? Why is she gone?" Tidus' voice was strong, but quavering with emotion.

"She… she died. Something took her away."

"A fiend. I heard you say it. At school they say that bad people become fiends. Was my mom a bad person?" He sounded more heartbroken than angry now, and I finally met his gaze.

"No, she was just lost," I said.

"Lost? What do you mean? You did something, didn't you?!" Tidus was right in front of me, his voice raising. "She yelled at you! What did you do?"

"I couldn't give her what she needed," I said. "She wanted your father back."

"So this is all because of him? I hate him!" Memories of Jecht surfaced, shimmering in front of my eyes as I watched Tidus rage. My friend, his enemy. He made me laugh, but made his son cry. Jecht was always smiling, laughing. Tidus hadn't had a glimmer of a smile since I arrived.

"Don't-" I began.

"I'll say whatever I want! It's his fault she's dead! I hate him! I hate him!" Tidus fumed, and hit my chest with a tiny fist. "I hate you! I don't want you as my guardian!"

I lurched off of the sofa, trying to walk away from that word. I crossed the room, hugging myself and trying to retain myself. I have to keep it together. I have to-

Grass grew over the hardwood floor, yellow and green and red. Red… I could feel the wind at my back, and the stench of decaying Sinspawn. In the circle of light offered by the lamp, I could see him.

"Jecht!" I ran to him, desperate to see him. He's still here. Braska was gone, but Jecht is still here. I knelt at his side, surveying the damage. His body was changed, warped into that frightening Aeon that destroyed Sin. A hero's burden.

"Wake up, Jecht!" I cried, shaking his shoulders. "Wake up!"

His eyes opened, but they were milky white and strange. He made a sound, as if to say my name, and his arm spasmed towards me. I gripped his hand, and it changed between mine, becoming clawed and growing larger.

"Get… away…" he croaked, and shoved me away. His strength was tremendous, I was knocked back, nearly to where Braska disappeared.

"Jecht!" I ran forward again, halting when several Sinspawn dropped from the sky. They fell like huge raindrops, spearing into the ground.

My sword… I need my sword. There. I retrieved it, and returned to Jecht, slashing wildly at the Sinspawn. They fell at my feet, screeching. It sounded like they were all screaming my name.

A final Sinspawn dropped, a large spider shape. It descended slowly, in a controlled way. I charged forward, and slashed at it, lopping off half its legs. A loud keening noise echoed through the air, and the spider flashed bright white. Yevon's symbol glowed bright on its back, and it… laughed.

It spoke then, with a chorus of all the Sinspawn. "You will be remembered for your arrogance. Yevon will remember you, and remind the world of your failings. You will be honoured for your failure. You survived when your Summoner defeated Sin. You should be dead. Live with your pain, Auron, the legendary guardian."

The spider dropped onto Jecht's chest. He was struggling to breathe, and his form was grotesque, roiling and shifting between his human body and the Aeon's. With an uneven scuttling motion, the spider crawled into his mouth.

"No!" I shouted, and threw my sword. Too late. Jecht's body shook, and the Sinspawn latched onto it, tiny teeth finding grip on anything.

Jecht's screams were warped, the Sinspawn was joining him. I tore at them with my bare hands, trying to clear them away from his face. His arm lifted disjointedly, and rested for a moment on my shoulder.

"Auron."

I halted, and his eyes met mine.

"Remember your promise." Jecht's voice throbbed in my mind; his lips didn't move. He grabbed me easily, his hand wrapping around my whole body. He lifted me, and I couldn't breathe, the pressure on my chest was suffocating. Pyreflies shot past me, scorching my hair and clothes and skin, and then I was still.

Jecht had set me down on the highest point of the Calm Lands, overlooking the char and broken ground.

I stood, and he ascended into the sky, his body twisting and changing in the air as the Sinspawn overwhelmed him. Pyreflies were forging armour around him, glowing with a pearly iridescence, as if he were being encased in seashells.

I fell to my knees, watching as the mass disappeared into the clouds. I was alone again. Just like when they went into that chamber with Lady Yunalesca. Just like when Braska disappeared. I needed them. I had nothing without them.

Shaking, I reached for my jug, hoping for some kind of comfort. Smashed. The clay pieces dangled at my side, held up by Mama's beads. I wound the beads around my fingers, and they brushed against Braska's bracelet on my left wrist. I fell forward.

I didn't make a sound when my heart broke.

o-o-o-o-o-o

What is he planning?

The armour shouldn't be allowed to remember.

Yevon is growing bold.

This guardian is our best hope.

o-o-o-o-o-o

I awoke to the sound of Tidus crying beside me.

I was on the floor, my hands were digging into my face. I could feel a scratch underneath every fingernail. My muscles strained, and I straightened my fingers, relaxing as best as I could.

"I'm sorry!" Tidus sobbed. "Please don't die!"

My voice was tangled in my throat, but I tried to speak. "Ti-"

"I didn't mean it, I'm sorry!" He grabbed my hand. "Don't die, please!"

I gripped his hand, and he looked at me. His face was patchily red, and tears were flowing freely. He looked like Jecht, how his face changed at the end.

No. I have to stay here.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said. "I'm sorry."

"You were scary, what's wrong with you?"

"I saw some terrible things," I said, easing myself into a sitting position. I was near the hallway to Tidus' mother's bedroom, and I could see that the lamp had been knocked over, as well as the kitchen table. The blue pitcher had smashed into pieces, and there was water on the floor. My sword was sticking out of the floor beside the window. My sword. I turned to Tidus, probably frightening him with my abruptness. "Are you hurt? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Panic edged into my voice, and he shook his head quickly.

"No, I got out of the way. You were scary."

Shame blazed across my face, and I dropped my head in my hands.

"Are you okay? Don't go away again, okay?"

I shook my head, and wiped my face, pushing my hair out of my face. "I'm sorry."

Tidus fidgeted, and then stood up. "I'm tired."

"I am too," I said, and got to my feet, using the wall as support.

"Gemma says its good to read before bed…" Tidus said. "Will you read me something?"

I didn't turn around, still leaning against the wall. The dark hallway was comforting in its emptiness.

"I could read you something. You know, if you want."

At that, I smiled a bit, and turned to him. He gave me a watery smile, and he held out his hand. I took it, and, avoiding the mess I was going to regret leaving, returned to the living room. We settled into our somewhat familiar position on the sofa, and I grabbed the nearest book on the coffee table.

"That's a cookbook! That's not interesting!"

"Get a different one, if you want."

"I'm already comfortable."

"Don't complain then," I said, opening to the first recipe. "Chicken, with rice and vegetables."

"Boring," he said, flipping a few pages. "Beef with brown sauce and potatoes! This looks way better."

We read down the list of ingredients, and he affirmed or denied their inclusion.

"I don't like green peppers, they stink."

"I don't like them either," I said, to his approval.

We flipped through nearly half the book, commenting on the pictures and which ones we would like to try. We stuck a few bookmarks in on recipes we both liked.

It was unusual. It felt so ordinary. After the tumult of the evening, the yelling and crying. Now we're here, and he's happy. The adaptability of children mystified me.

I found myself drifting off, the book lolling in my loose grip.

"Auron, hold the book up!"

"…"

"Auron, are you asleep?"

"Not yet…"

"Go ahead and fall asleep, I'll protect you."

"Alright."