Categories > Games > Final Fantasy X > sky and sea
silenced voices
0 Reviews[#003: Scream(ing)/s] Operation Mi'ihen. There was nothing Yuna could do but dance.
I wanted to lash out at him, I wanted to yell. Why didn't he call his aeons? They would come, and they would attack Sin, and they will not win. Even I knew that, but why didn't he even try? I had started to twirl my staff, I was ready to summon Valefor, to call upon Ifrit, and I knew that they would come to my aid even when they knew that all was already lost here.
He wouldn't let me. He stilled my staff, shaking his head. My powers were weak, I knew that. But what about his?
"Yuna," Maester Seymour said, his voice quietly gentle, reasonable. "You cannot do this."
He couldn't defeat Sin, I realised, fighting down the lump in my throat. With all his power and his aeons and his . . . dedication to Yevon, he wouldn't be able to defeat Sin.
The Final Summoning was all we had, and I had to obtain all my aeons. I had to complete my pilgrimage. I had to defeat Sin. I turned away from him, my eyes burning from the smoke and my tears, my throat too tight. I raised my staff (and perhaps it trembled when I held it up, but no one was around to notice) and I began to dance along the stretch of beach, now littered with still-warm bodies and wreckages from the machina, now sprayed with blood. I did not even check on who was dead and who still lived, because the screamings had stopped and the air was still.
I danced for everyone that day. The living, the dead, myself. The pyreflies circled around me, lingering before they ascended to the Farplane.
He wouldn't let me. He stilled my staff, shaking his head. My powers were weak, I knew that. But what about his?
"Yuna," Maester Seymour said, his voice quietly gentle, reasonable. "You cannot do this."
He couldn't defeat Sin, I realised, fighting down the lump in my throat. With all his power and his aeons and his . . . dedication to Yevon, he wouldn't be able to defeat Sin.
The Final Summoning was all we had, and I had to obtain all my aeons. I had to complete my pilgrimage. I had to defeat Sin. I turned away from him, my eyes burning from the smoke and my tears, my throat too tight. I raised my staff (and perhaps it trembled when I held it up, but no one was around to notice) and I began to dance along the stretch of beach, now littered with still-warm bodies and wreckages from the machina, now sprayed with blood. I did not even check on who was dead and who still lived, because the screamings had stopped and the air was still.
I danced for everyone that day. The living, the dead, myself. The pyreflies circled around me, lingering before they ascended to the Farplane.
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