Categories > Games > Final Fantasy X
"So. This heretic --this Braska wants you to go with him to defeat Sin?" Kinoc spat in the dust between his boots, his spittle unmistakeably speckled with the incriminatingly-bright shell of a kupo nut.
"Has the temple lifted the ban on those since I left?" Auron's voice was glum and disappointed, like a mother finding her son raiding her coin purse.
Kinoc looked up with narrowed, soured eyes. "What would it matter to you, excommunicant?"
Auron turned away. That was yet too plain, too recent and too injurious to master.
"Friend," Kinoc's voice was quick to soften at this, "you're worse than a rookie acolyte, you know that?"
Auron didn't respond.
"I think you should go with him."
"Guard a heathen summoner?" Auron croaked in surprise. "At the further expense of my reputation? And the possible expense of my life?"
"Further expense?" Kinoc chuckled humorlessly. "Auron, there's nothing left to salvage."
Auron's voice went low. "I still have my faith."
"And this is your last, best chance to serve Yevon! Look, my dad knew some guys when I was a kid. Ex-monks. Never seen more messed up individuals in my life. The best of them ended up running deals for the Al Bhed-Hypbello black market. Got himself kidnapped, tortured and killed, but not before they slit his wife's throat in front of him. Another of them went mad --started seeing pyreflies and the face of Yunalesca every time he closed his eyes. He got sent up to the Luca Asylum. Most of them ended up as street-drunk beggars, dead of exposure or intoxication."
"Braska married an Al Bhed. The teachings equate such an act to murder."
"And yet he somehow, against all the cursed luck in Spira, obtained summoner status. Like my ma says, that's the heralding of a miracle. You can't ignore something like that."
"Hmph."
The grin faded from his voice, now serious. "You've got nothing else left for you. No-one will hire a fallen monk. Not anyone on the right side of the law, at least, and I know you're too damn straight for anything less. And you know I wouldn't say this if I didn't think this Braska guy was up to snuff. Even with all the luck of the Aeons, I wouldn't talk him up if I didn't believe he could actually succeed. Forgive me Yevon, but with the state of things in the Brotherhood these days, I'd put more stock in guys like him than the temple. You know why?" Then he was quiet, his voice was nearly drowned by the hushed currents of the Moonflow and the rising hum of the evening pyreflies. "He asked /you/, Auron."
Auron's head snapped back, addled-bright with pain. Kinoc had seized the front of his tunic roughly, and Auron fell awkwardly to his knees, too slowed by tranquility to brace himself against Kinoc's sudden and solid uppercut.
Kinoc stood above him, panting slightly. "Sometimes I wonder," he started to laugh --unlike before, this was a real laugh with light in it, "how all my faith ended up in you."
"Has the temple lifted the ban on those since I left?" Auron's voice was glum and disappointed, like a mother finding her son raiding her coin purse.
Kinoc looked up with narrowed, soured eyes. "What would it matter to you, excommunicant?"
Auron turned away. That was yet too plain, too recent and too injurious to master.
"Friend," Kinoc's voice was quick to soften at this, "you're worse than a rookie acolyte, you know that?"
Auron didn't respond.
"I think you should go with him."
"Guard a heathen summoner?" Auron croaked in surprise. "At the further expense of my reputation? And the possible expense of my life?"
"Further expense?" Kinoc chuckled humorlessly. "Auron, there's nothing left to salvage."
Auron's voice went low. "I still have my faith."
"And this is your last, best chance to serve Yevon! Look, my dad knew some guys when I was a kid. Ex-monks. Never seen more messed up individuals in my life. The best of them ended up running deals for the Al Bhed-Hypbello black market. Got himself kidnapped, tortured and killed, but not before they slit his wife's throat in front of him. Another of them went mad --started seeing pyreflies and the face of Yunalesca every time he closed his eyes. He got sent up to the Luca Asylum. Most of them ended up as street-drunk beggars, dead of exposure or intoxication."
"Braska married an Al Bhed. The teachings equate such an act to murder."
"And yet he somehow, against all the cursed luck in Spira, obtained summoner status. Like my ma says, that's the heralding of a miracle. You can't ignore something like that."
"Hmph."
The grin faded from his voice, now serious. "You've got nothing else left for you. No-one will hire a fallen monk. Not anyone on the right side of the law, at least, and I know you're too damn straight for anything less. And you know I wouldn't say this if I didn't think this Braska guy was up to snuff. Even with all the luck of the Aeons, I wouldn't talk him up if I didn't believe he could actually succeed. Forgive me Yevon, but with the state of things in the Brotherhood these days, I'd put more stock in guys like him than the temple. You know why?" Then he was quiet, his voice was nearly drowned by the hushed currents of the Moonflow and the rising hum of the evening pyreflies. "He asked /you/, Auron."
Auron's head snapped back, addled-bright with pain. Kinoc had seized the front of his tunic roughly, and Auron fell awkwardly to his knees, too slowed by tranquility to brace himself against Kinoc's sudden and solid uppercut.
Kinoc stood above him, panting slightly. "Sometimes I wonder," he started to laugh --unlike before, this was a real laugh with light in it, "how all my faith ended up in you."
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