FicWad

I was glad for the temple. Not only for my new aeon, but for the familiarity of it all. It was cooler in Djose, much cooler than Besaid ever was, but the hymn, the priests, the acolytes, it all reminded me of Besaid. Besaid was home and so far away now, but I had said my goodbyes and I had no regrets leaving.

I lingered in the main chamber, offering one single prayer for everyone we had lost---Sir Luzzu, Captain Lucil's knights, the Al Bhed, the Crusaders. If I had decided to sit there and say a prayer each for every soul I had sent to the Farplane, I would have been there forever.

I stood up and dusted my skirt. The hymn echoed in the hallways of the temple as I walked, and I was willing to accept whatever small comfort I could find. Lulu called my name, telling me to get some rest. I smiled at her and shook my head. As I turned the corner, I saw Tidus sitting inside a small chamber, leaning against the wall, and a young acolyte---a child, really--- was looking up at him, wide-eyed and curious. Tidus didn't seem to mind; he was dozing fitfully, gloves and boots still on, his hair more of a mess than usual. Wakka shook his head and slid down to crouch beside him before shaking him awake, muttering something about getting some sleep at the inn. They didn't notice me. I headed off towards the wounded, the dying, the dead. They needed me more than I needed rest.

I kept hearing Sir Auron's words repeating in my head. Those who turned from Yevon died while the faithful live on. Surely this had to mean more than that? Surely this was more than just a test of faith, more than setting another line to separate right from wrong?

I pondered those questions and received no answers. My own aeons were silent.

I murmured comfort, I chanted prayers, I called upon my magic. I danced, my bare feet making no sound on the cold stone floor. I couldn't have slept even if I had wanted to, not with the sighs of the living and the echoes of the dead, and whispers of doubt flitting through my mind.