A look into Yunalesca's thoughts from the time she met with Braska and his guardians to her sending.
Jecht was not the same as the other guardians that she had seen. His eyes were full of dreams and determination, a confidence that she could not understand. She saw something burning within him, something she used to believe in, something she had forgotten.
She lifted her arm high, chanting the words that would dissolve Jecht's physical form and tranformed it into the The Final Aeon. The ritual that was the hope of saving Spira from Sin, she had done it for a long thousand years.
She had watched many guardians faded away with silent regrets they could no longer speak; and the summoners that fell to their knees, shedding tears for their incapabilities in bring an Eternal Calm to Spira.
As the ritual came to an end, she did her final turn and saw a grin on his face before he was completely transformed. Her expression did not change, but she could not deny that the guardian and summoner that stood before her were different.
Braska made his bow and exited her chamber. She watched the summoner walked with determination and hope, not showing his grieve. Her eyelids lowered slightly as she heard a faraway voice that was so familiar.
Time had stopped for her when she summoned the very first Final Aeon one thousand years ago. She remembered the tears that had flowed along with the blood from her broken and torn body, but she could not remember how it had felt then.
One thousand years.
She could no longer felt the pain that had been inflicted on her, the flow of time and her emotions.
When the young guardian of Braska returned to her chamber with rage and grieve, she had disposed of him easily. She walked to the trembling body of the warrior who was struggling to get up, her hands ready to strike him down as she gathered the magic in her hands.
It was then she found herself stopped.
The mysterious grin.
Will you be able to make a difference?
She retreated and stayed there, watching Auron struggling out of her chamber with the deep wound on his face. She grabbed onto her head, trying to shake the voice off.
"There is no such thing as making a difference, because there is no other way that Spira could be saved."
The voice disappeared.
A decade had passed, Braska's Calm did not last for long. Sin had once again revived and she sat in her starlit chamber, looking up at the artificial sky of Zanarkand, waiting patiently for the next summoner to come.
A familiar presence.
She knew that feeling.
Braska's daughter was the next summoner. She stepped out of her chamber, greeting Yuna and her guardians. She saw the blonde boy that had stood out among the guardians and the man that she had fatally wounded ten years ago.
/Auron, you have come/.
She recognized the eyes of the boy as the same pair of determined eyes she had seen. She could feel the blood and burning spirit of Jecht running through the boy's body. She began to wonder what the Fayth had been thinking.
Six guardians she had. Who will it be to be the next Final Aeon and Sin?
Yuna had declined the thousand years tradition. She could not believe it; she had seen summoners that went into rage and desperation upon knowing the truth behind Sin, but none had ever refused the one and only route to save Spira.
She could see the fire burning in this young bunch of guardians and summoner. She had not seen anyone like them before, and probably never would seen anyone like them in the future.
As the sword of the young boy of Jecht stroked down into her bare shoulders, a familiar feeling of death engulfed her once again, the memory of being killed and the haunting feeling of life slipping away from your hands.
She fell to the ground, her strength slipping away as she watched the young daughter of Braska began to perform the Sending for her.
Spira had lost its final hope.
She had failed.
The pull of the Farplane was strong, the unseen guidance that would led her to eternal peace had pulled her out of the starlight chamber that she had stayed in for a thousand years. Flashes of light ran past her as she allowed herself to float within the stream to the Farplane.
/Yuna would make a difference/.
She knew that voice. It had been haunting her for a thousand years.
She glanced around, hoping to locate the source of the voice.
It was then, she saw the figure with long white silvery hair floated over her.
Who are you?
The woman smiled gently down at her.
/You know who I am/.
Of course. The voice. Her very own voice. The voice from a thousand years ago.
/I had failed/.
The woman hugged her close, sending a warm feeling through her body that she had forgotten for too long.
The children will bring a new tomorrow... isn't that what you have been wishing? Someone to make a difference for all these years?
Emotions that was locked, feelings that was banished to a deep corner of her heart. She felt a choke to her throat as her face began to show expressions that she had lost together with her death, the night when she abandoned her true feelings.
And she finally cried, the tears of regret that she had denied for too long.