Writings of an Owlmoose

Summary: A chance meeting between two of Spira’s greatest warriors — Nooj the Undying and Sir Auron, the legendary guardian — will change the course of history.

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Death Shall Have No Dominion

Chapter Twelve

As Yuna and her guardians walked toward the massive, ornamental doors of the Djose temple, Nooj led Kal to the elevated area just to the left where his sub-commanders had gathered. Pounding his cane on the flagstones to draw the attention of his forces, he began, “Crusaders, allow me to present to you the Commander Kal. He is a former companion of Sir Auron and has chosen, with some of his fellow warrior monks, to join our attempt to cast down the vile rule of the Maesters. These men are to be accepted into our ranks with full privileges and honor and are to be treated as a part of our family. Commander Kal will be obeyed as though he were a Crusader commander and respected as you respect your other superiors. Be good enough to be of what assistance you can to the other monks and let them know we are grateful for their aid.

“Now. It appears we are going to be here for some time. That will give us the opportunity to organize a little more efficiently. Make sure all the members of the army are adequately armed and that their weapons are in good repair. Arrange arms practice as you see the need. You all know more soldiers are lost to infections due to not bathing than to enemy action so check out the hygiene of those under your command, especially the feet. I don’t want any preventable losses among my forces. I shall begin the inventory of our supplies, particularly ammunition. The men have rested enough; let’s not waste this time for preparations. Paine, you will accompany me.” He spun on his right heel and stumped off, his abrupt departure indicating he had other things on his mind.

To his chagrin, Nooj found himself still replaying the moment when Kal had wrapped his arms around Paine, pulling her into a close embrace. The woman seemed totally non-judgmental about who she hugged. She was willing to rub her body against that of any person who offered. The monk might be old — nearly Auron’s age — but he was still a man and it was obvious he found the feel of Paine more than agreeable. Once again Nooj remembered the way the old pervert had grinned and moved his hands. No number of references from Auron or any others would erase the image of Kal running his palms down the body of the woman he … Nooj caught himself and rechecked the heavy gun on his hip. He remained glad of its presence as he turned his attention back to Paine and the task at hand.

The supplies left over from Operation Mi’ihen had been assembled under the guard of a group of lightly wounded Crusaders who had commandeered chocobos to pull the wagons. Nooj led Paine to the area and, dismissing the guards to attend to their own needs, began dragging the tarpaulins off the loads.

“Here, help me fold these up so we can see what we have,” he barked. “Do you have something to write on?”

“Yessir,” she responded with a grin. “I have a notebook and a stylus. What are we counting?” She was not yet sure what game he was playing but she was pleased he had kept her near him.

“First ammunition. I think all the troops who are willing to use machina weapons have them so replacements for the guns aren’t as important as supplies to keep them usable.” He started removing the cover from the second cart. “So you know that man Kal … that monk friend of Sir Auron?”

“Yes.” She, amused by his attempted subterfuge, did not elaborate.

“Well, let’s get the last one uncovered.” He gestured toward the remaining wagon. “Just from the first glance, it looks like we have a bigger supply than I thought. I think we can spare a few rounds for the men to practice.” He busied himself with make-work for a few minutes, watching the woman out of the corner of his eye. Finally he could contain himself no longer.

“How do you know him, that Kal? Is he a part of your life on the streets?” Nooj tried to make his voice sound casual but the bitterness seeped through. Paine also noticed the knuckles of his living hand whiten as he tightened his two-handed grip on his cane.

“Earlier than that.” She hid the satisfied smile the hint of his jealousy had brought unbidden to her lips. “He was a monk at the Kilika Temple when I lived there. I thought I told you — my family was wiped out by Sin and I didn’t have anybody other than my uncle available, so they sent me there.”

He shook his head. “You just mentioned about being a temple orphan, didn’t go into any details. Kilika? How old were you?”

“Just turned four. That’s what they told me. I don’t remember much at the beginning. Things were confused and I didn’t understand what was happening.” She looked down at her fingers which had begun twisting together as they usually did at the memory. “I mostly grew up there and Kal was kind to me. He and my uncle were good friends who’d served together for a long time, and when Auron left for the pilgrimage with Lord Braska, he basically took me under his wing.” She clenched her hands to stop the twitching.

Nooj did not notice; he was thinking. “Just barely four, eh? That must have been the same time my parents died. Sin doesn’t keep hitting the same targets that close together and I was more than six when it happened. My mother’s brother took me after I nearly perished from dehydration. That has to be why we never met. At that age, even two years is forever and none of my people ever went near the temple.”

Paine was astonished. “I thought everybody went to the temples.”

“No. Both sides of my family were heathen.” He laughed without humor. “Maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to turn rebel.”

She persisted in her questions, “Are you seriously telling me you never went to the temple on Kilika?”

A haze of memory softened his falcon’s gaze. “The closest I ever came was with some friends. It was a sort of traditional challenge to sneak to a spot near the temple and drop a token. Just to prove courage. You had to dodge the guards and all that. It’s the sort of thing kids do, you know.”

“You’ve never admitted you ever were a kid.” She poked him in the side. “It’s hard to see you doing something that playful.”

At her tone, Nooj became aware he was breaking his promise to himself and letting her know too much, permitting her to come too close. That was not the way to protect her from his bleakness.

“That was when I killed my first man.”

The flat comment dropped between them like a shadowy wall, truncating the conversation.

“Well, Kal was my friend and taught me a lot,” Paine finished bravely.

Without responding, Nooj turned back to the counting of ammunition boxes. In equal silence, Paine carefully recorded the numbers and types of material.

-X-

Kimahri stood like a sapphire statue at the door leading to the Chamber of the Fayth. He had folded his arms across his massive chest and had positioned himself so that he could catch the first flicker of movement which would signal the opening of the portal. He would, as usual, be the first to leap to the assistance of the young summoner; he would catch her and hold her before she fell.

This was the worst time of the pilgrimage for him — this waiting for the little girl to pass the trials and receive the aeon. She was too frail and delicate for a burden like this. He was convinced of the unfairness of the process. It made no sense to him that she should not be permitted to name a champion to undergo the stress and act as her surrogate. He would be more than willing to place his own strength and stamina on the line for her and die for it were it necessary. By the time they got to Bevelle, she would be worn out and too exhausted to complete the new task they had shouldered.

Ah, there was no use wishing or thinking of how much better he could have managed things. His job was to be here, waiting and ready to serve and protect her. He settled himself on the balls of his feet prepared to do that which he hungered to do.

Meanwhile, Auron stood by the entrance leading back to the Cloister of Trials, leaning against the wall, right arm crossed over his left. Tidus and Lulu had also quietly taken their places, but Wakka was pacing, following the patterns and symbols carved into the floor of the antechamber while muttering to himself. Auron tuned out the wandering blitzer by thinking of the statue of his old lord and friend installed in the main hall of the temple, and he found himself wondering what Braska would think of all this, and whether he would still have given his life and Jecht’s for the Final Summoning if he’d known the truth.

It was too late for Braska, and too late for Jecht, but it would not be too late for Yuna. Auron fixed his gaze on the entrance to the Chamber of the Fayth and, for the thousandth time, silently promised himself that he would keep her from the clutches of Yunalesca.

The renewal of his oath complete, he began to turn inward, hoping to pass the time with meditation as he had always done while waiting for Braska to finish one of these sessions. After fifteen minutes had passed without success, he looked up and glared at the source of the noise that was breaking his concentration.

“Settle down,” he said to Wakka, irritation slipping into his voice.

“Easy for you to say,” the blitzer snapped back. “Look at you, so certain this is gonna work out. Well, what if it doesn’t?”

The scene reminded Auron so much of Jecht’s actions in this very chamber — the pacing, the grumbling, the worrying — that he had to bite back an unexpected and inappropriate laugh. “Do you really doubt Yuna’s resolve, after she has come this far?” he asked instead.

“It’s not that.” Wakka finally stopped his endless walking and turned to face Auron. “We’ve turned our backs on Yevon, ya? What if the fayth rejects her because of it?”

Auron started, unable to contain his surprise this time. He had literally not thought of this possibility.

With a grunt, Wakka crossed his arms and pulled himself up to his full height. “So maybe you’re not so sure after all.” He glared down at Auron as tension thickened between them.

“Hey, hey,” Tidus said, reaching the pair in a few bounding steps. He looked anxiously at Auron. “Yuna summoned Ifrit the other day, right? She still has her aeons.”

“She still has an Aeon,” Lulu quietly corrected him from her corner. “That is all we can know for certain. Who is to say each fayth will respond in the same way?”

“Besides, she called that Aeon to fight Sinspawn,” Wakka pointed out. “Not the warrior monks, ya? Might not be so willing to fight them.”

Still at a loss for how to respond, Auron turned away and thought. Ever since returning to Spira from Zanarkand and resolving to defeat Sin without the Final Summoning, he had known, somehow, that the fayth were with him, that they wanted an end to the cycle as much as anyone, that they felt no loyalty to Yevon. But he had no way to explain this to the group. It was a gut feeling with no basis in anything concrete — he had never actually spoken to the fayth. Was he really so certain, when it came down to it?

Finally, he looked up again. But rather than talking to the still-belligerent Wakka, he addressed Lulu and Kimahri, who both looked concerned but not nearly so hostile. “Yuna consulted her aeons before she made her choice. We must trust that she has made the right one. That is all we can do. If this fayth refuses her, we will find another way. But the fayth will not refuse.” He infused this statement with more confidence than he really felt, but if the others saw the truth they did not show it. Kimahri nodded slowly, then turned his gaze back to the door to the Chamber. Lulu cocked her head sideways, pursed her lips for a moment, and then nodded as well.

“All right, Sir Auron,” she said, casting a sharp look at Wakka, who stalked off into a far corner and sat on the ground. “We will wait and see. I only hope you’re right.”

So do I. But this was not something he could say out loud. After a quick glance at Tidus, who shrugged and found his own place to sit, he leaned back against his chosen spot of wall and settled in to worry.

-X-

Would the waiting never end? Nooj had thought he was inured to the long periods of inaction in the army, but this was boredom of a special kind. The usual feeling of irritation was overlaid with a sense of foreboding. He did not know what was going on in the temple, what the trials were all about and if an errant aeon might choose to reject a summoner or even kill one. And there was nothing he could do about it. He was a Warrior; this was the Warrior’s Temple, the place where Ixion dwelled. There should be something he could do to influence the outcome of the visit.

He had done what he could to put the time to good use. The supplies were recorded and re-packed; the men were checking their arms and practicing their fencing lest they grow rusty. His subordinates had made sure of their commands. Food was being prepared for the next meal. No one was being lazy or hatching mischief. But he could not rest. There was something bothering him which he could not define, an itch he could not scratch. He stumped around the camp trying to find a reason to lose his temper with no success.

Finally, he spotted Paine, standing near the shop, poking into a barrel of oddments. Of course, he had some things to hash out with her.

“Paine, we need to talk.” He called to her in a low voice, not wanting to stir improper conversations among the troops.

“We certainly do,” she responded at the same level. Was he ready to be open with her again and stop playing games?

He led the way around the back of the temple to a dead end where they could easily see anyone approach. Paine boosted herself up on a crate and crossed her legs as she prepared to listen; he leaned against the same support, bracing himself with his cane.

“We are the only two remaining with the army from the Crimson Squad disaster. As such, it is important we not let the others forget. Our story is the best and most immediate example of the willingness of the Maesters to sacrifice anything to their ambitions. Do you agree?”

With an inward sigh, Paine closed her eyes and nodded. “Of course, I agree. What do you think we should do to keep the memory alive?” So he was going over old ground again. She should have expected it.

“We must make sure every man and woman with us has heard of the deaths in the Den of Woe. Maybe we should form a chain of instruction to make sure no one is left out. Or we could think up a cheer or oath to recite in their honor, just to make sure they aren’t forgotten.” He was warming to his hastily invented notion when he suddenly realized what he was doing. He had draped his right arm over Paine’s shoulder and had cupped her breast with his hand. And now, he found himself rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, feeling it erect and harden under his touch.

“Oh! I … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …” He quickly released her and stood up, looking shame-facedly into the distance. “That was presumptuous. I apologize.” He started to move away when she caught at his sleeve.

“Don’t be silly. If I minded I would have stopped you. I was enjoying it.” A look around assured her they were unobserved. She wrapped her fingers in his braids and pulled his face down to hers, flickering her tongue between his lips like a hummingbird searching for nectar.

-X-

Hours had passed, and no one had moved, or spoken. Kimahri and Auron still stood guard, one by each door; the two blitzers sat in opposite corners; Lulu rested against a wall. He gave no outward sign, keeping his expression impassive as he always did. But inside, Auron was fretting. A part of him knew that it was too soon for concern — it could take as long as a day for a summoner to gain an aeon, so this wait was nothing out of the ordinary. But the fears Wakka and Lulu had expressed were getting to him. So he nearly jumped with nervous anticipation when the stone door leading to the Chamber of the Fayth scraped open and Yuna stumbled out.

Instantly, every guardian was on alert — Wakka and Tidus leapt to their feet, Lulu began to scurry forward, and Auron made his way to the doorway in a few long strides. But Kimahri was the first there, and he supported Yuna as she stepped forth, slipping an arm around her shoulders. She closed her eyes with weariness and leaned into the chest of her Ronso protector. The room held its breath and waited for her to speak, to admit her failure or share her success.

After a minute that lasted an eternity, Wakka finally broke the silence. “Well?” he demanded.

Yuna opened her eyes, looked up at Kimahri, then out to the rest of her guardians. Her expression was soft with wonder. “I prayed harder than ever before. I apologized to the fayth as best I could for straying from Yevon’s path and assured him that my desire to destroy Sin is unchanged. For a long time there was no answer. And then, when I had almost given up hope, the fayth joined with me. I have gained the Aeon of Djose.”

Lulu sighed with relief and took her summoner in a quick embrace. “I am glad,” she said. Tidus grinned at Auron, who allowed himself a brief smile in return, the only outward sign of his profound relief. He did not want to betray the depths of his prior concern by showing too much emotion now. Then he glanced at Wakka, who stood alone, some distance from the rest of the group, looking stunned.

Yuna took a deep breath as she stood up straight. With careful steps, she moved away from Lulu to stand before Auron, then bowed deeply. “Sir Auron, I owe you an apology. I should not have doubted you before.”

Surprised and touched, Auron laid a tentative hand on her shoulder and raised her from the bow. “It’s all right,” he said. “I understand. I asked you to accept something very difficult.”

“Still. Thank you for your patience with me. And I want you to know that there is no longer any question in my mind that I have made the right choice.” She stood up straight and looked around again. “If the rest of you are ready, I want to show the Crusaders that the aeons are with us in the fight against Yevon. Follow me.”

-X-

From his position near the elaborate doors of the Djose Temple, Nooj saw Yuna, with her attendant guardians, move down the steps and to the center of the courtyard in front of the edifice. His superior height as well as the fact he was standing on the raised area to the left of the building permitted him to observe all the events without difficulty. He noticed that Yuna was pale and seemed exhausted, although her posture remained gracefully upright and she smiled with the satisfaction of a job well done. Nooj turned to Paine at his side to make sure she had a clear view when his attention was caught by the activity below.

Kimahri cleared a space around the summoner and with his intimidating glare made sure no one encroached as she began her incantation. Yuna took a deep breath, then lifted her staff, holding it perfectly straight. She bowed her head, and a sphere of blue fire first contracted, then spread outward in a snapping globe as columns of lightning surrounded her. All the energy contracted once more, concentrating itself in a white ball around the tip of her staff. Still gripping the handle with both hands, she pointed it to the sky and a bolt shot outward from it, tracing an image in the sky, a glyph which appeared briefly and then dissolved in a mass of electricity. Seconds later a yellow horn emerged, and Yuna swept her staff across her body as if to pull out the celestial being that waited inside. And then the Aeon appeared completely, leaping through the air to land on the ground with the grace of a runner. Ixion, the mighty unicorn, reared as soon as he touched the earth, pawing at the sky with his front hooves, neighing as thunder magic sparked from his brow. Even with all four legs on the ground, the Aeon remained restless, snuffling and snorting and stamping at the ground, blue bolts of energy continually crackling around his body.

When the spell began to unfold, the sky had shifted its color and the sharp scent of ozone laced the air, intensifying the senses of the on-lookers. Nooj had felt the short hairs at the nape of his neck stirring and all the skin on his body prickle as blue light danced across the mass of people and the ground on which they stood. He was at once alarmed as the electrical charges increased lest they focus on the machina limbs which were affixed into his flesh. Then the tingling sensation withdrew and collected at one place. Images raced across his vision faster than he could make them out. There! Standing by the summoner was the immense looming figure of a spectral unicorn. Etched in light yet seemingly solid, Ixion was there, his mane flowing, his eyes glittering, his body shifting then becoming still, then flickering, then glowing. Ixion! The Warriors’ spirit! Ixion!

Nooj could not breathe. He felt himself drawn to the figure he had always thought to be a myth, the icon of an ideal. If he could have moved, he would have thrown himself down on his face and declared his worship of this being. How does a heretic acknowledge his god? Could this be real? Or was it just another one of the tricks of the Yevonite cult? Yuna had renounced that path and still the great aeon came at her call. Was it true that the aeons existed totally apart from the preachments of the Maesters? Was there a plane on which reality gave way to the supernatural? All his life, he had prided himself on his devotion to reason, now here was Ixion standing not twenty feet from him. Could he touch the flank of that radiant creature? Would he be struck dead for even approaching? His mind whirled out of his control and he felt fear. Nooj the Undying, the Die Hard, the Deathseeker felt fear. Not fear of death or extinction but fear of madness. Were the others seeing what he saw? Why was there silence instead of panic? He could not think … nor breathe … nor move.

Paine also stared at the aeon, unable to tear her gaze from the sight of the mystical beast, who neighed and tossed its crackling head. She had seen Ifrit summoned on occasion at Kilika Temple — one of her strongest childhood memories was of standing next to her uncle and watching Lord Braska call the fire aeon, trembling with fear and wonder as she slipped her hand into Auron’s warm, strong one — but the sight was just as overwhelming every time. She took a slight step backwards and to the side, instinctively taking a position that placed Nooj’s body between herself and the apparition. Thus shielded, she dared to look around and take in the scene, Crusaders and Al Bhed and warrior monks alike frozen in place, some fallen to their knees, some chattering with excitement, others simply standing and gaping. Every eye was turned on Ixion. Only Yuna’s guardians, and Nooj–

No, Nooj was most definitely affected, Paine realized as she glanced up as his face, which was locked into an expression unlike any she had ever seen before. To her surprise, he seemed awestruck almost to the point of terror, hardly even breathing, eyes fixed on Ixion and Yuna as the summoner raised her hand and gently patted the aeon on its nose. After taking a beat to let Nooj compose himself, Paine stepped still closer to him and wrapped a hand lightly around his arm. “Fayth,” she murmured, and her voice trembled slightly with the wonder of it all.

Sound and motion returned like a windstorm, shaking Nooj from his paralysis and buffeting him with the noise of the excited throng. He blinked and resettled the spectacles on his nose, peering over the heads of the others. The giant figure of Ixion was still there, towering over the diminutive Summoner, containing within its shape the actinic light of the thunderbolt. Fierce energy coursed inside the translucent being, ready at Yuna’s command. No! No one human could control that spirit were it really what it seemed to be. Not a hundred Warriors could channel that strength.

Someone — Paine — had touched him and said something. What had she said? He did not remember and did not want to ask her lest it reveal the depth of his distraction. He thought himself awake now and found the wonderment still upon him, making him continue to doubt his eyes and other senses. Could this possibly be some elaborate charade, designed by the founders of the faith to instill belief in their catechumens? He was unable to fully accept this as reality. There must be another explanation.

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