Yuna reflects on her past, and her future. Mild Yuna/Tidus hints, but gen altogether.
Her thoughts seem to get lost, in the moment, in the land, in the swirling of pyreflies across her vision that has done little else but remind her that she's been walking through her own grave since her journey began.
Before him, she would have accepted it as her fate. As her role, as the cycle passed down for a thousand years and a thousand more.
Fate is not a constant, she realizes. Not set in stone or impending and imminent like Sin's ravaging of these lands, but ever-changing, malleable, like the pyreflies that dance on sacred ground before her feet.
Tidus calls to her, shaking her out of her reverie, and she turns to face whichever of the thousand fates that awaits her.