[Final Fantasy X] A Summoner's Faith, Chapter Two: Initiation
Pairings/Characters: Yuna
Rating: PG
Warnings: Significant spoilers for all of Final Fantasy X.
Notes: The second chapter of "A Summoner's Faith." Other chapters here.
Summary: Yuna's training as a summoner continues as she learns to cast magic.
The red light of sunset slanted across the beach, shading the sea to deep purple and the sand to a fiery golden-red glow. Soft, puffy clouds edged with gold and shadows framed the horizon where the sun sank into the sea. The sea breezes ruffled the plants, filling the air with the sweet scent of tropical flowers and the rich smell of green, growing things. The wind also carried the mournful sound of a lone flute, playing the hymn of the Fayth.
Yuna crossed the beach with her sandals in her hand, the sand still warm from the day's heat and gritty beneath her feet. Lord Kieran was seated at the end of the dock, his sandaled feet dangling just above the surface of the water. The crimson light turned his careworn, bearded face into a ferocious mask. He did not turn to greet her, but continued to play, the hymn melding into a sorrowful and grave tune Yuna did not recognize.
She sat quietly next to him, dipping her bare toes into the cool wavelets that lapped against the dock. There was no sign of Sin on the horizon, though she knew it had returned to Spira. Her father's Calm had not lasted after all. She folded her hands in her lap and waited.
The last mournful notes died away, and Lord Kieran turned to her. "Good evening, Yuna."
"Good evening, Lord Kieran." She made the gesture of prayer.
"Sin has returned to Spira," he said. "Our atonement has been insufficient."
"I still wish to face it," Yuna said.
"What if you, too, are unable to permanently banish Sin from our lives?" Lord Kieran asked. "Suppose you survive your pilgrimage and obtain the Final Aeon in Zanarkand, and you defeat Sin. What if that is not the end?"
She looked down at the water, tinted red with the sunset light. "Then at least the people of Spira will know a few years of peace before Sin comes again."
"If you are the one to defeat Sin, you will not live to see that."
"I know." She looked up at him. "But it is enough to know that, for a little while, people need not fear Sin."
He studied her for a long time, his eyes searching hers, and then nodded. "Have the priests taught you anything of magic?" he inquired.
"I think Lulu forbade them to. She thinks it will encourage me." Yuna frowned.
"I take it Lulu has not taught you anything of magic, either, then," he said.
"Can summoners learn black magic?" She was surprised. "I have only ever seen them use curative magic."
"A few choose to learn black magic, those who already know who their guardians will be and know that one of their guardians can use healing magic. Some choose to learn both, though it is a very slow path for those that take that route."
"I think..." Yuna took a deep breath. "I think I would like to learn white magic. I want Lulu as my guardian, when I go."
"Very well." Lord Kieran tucked his flute into the folds of his robe. He seemed able to produce an infinite number of wondrous things from his sleeves, his sash, and the folds of his robe, including potions and carved wooden toys for the children of the island. From his sleeve, he withdrew a small crystal sphere and cupped it in his hands.
"This sphere helps focus the magic when you are still learning," Lord Kieran said, proffering the piece of crystal.
Yuna took it gingerly. It was surprisingly heavy in her hands for its size, and she focused carefully lest she drop the precious thing.
"The runes inscribed on the surface contain the magic. I don't expect you to do perfectly on your first try, and unfinished magic is dangerous. The sphere will hold it for you and keep it from harming us."
"Unfinished Cure magic can harm us?" Yuna looked up, startled.
"White magic and black are not so different at their roots. They are both made of Yevon's power, shaped by prayer. It is the intent and the shaping words that differentiate them. Some of the most powerful white magic can destroy fiends in a single strike." Lord Kieran smiled faintly. "Fire is not innately bad, for it warms our homes and cooks our food. However, it is destructive when applied with focused intent to fiends. In the same way, the holy light of Cure heals our wounds and gives us strength to go on, but the power that underlies both is the same force, and left unchecked, it is dangerous."
Yuna gazed down at the sphere in her hands, mesmerized by the way the light reflected off it as sunlight off waves.
"Now," Lord Kieran said. "The words you will speak are thus." He taught her the words, in the fluid language of the Hymn, the language of Yevon's temples. She repeated them slowly. He made her rehearse them five times before he was content that she was pronouncing them exactly right.
"The way to transform the spoken words into power is to feel the grace of Yevon all around you," he said when he was satisfied with her pronunciation. "Close your eyes. It is in the lapping of the waves. It is the peace in the Hymn of the Fayth. It is the fury of a storm, and the feel of new grass beneath your feet."
Yuna closed her eyes and held the sphere tightly in her cupped palms. Lord Kieran's recital blurred into a litany that rose and fell with the same comforting cadence as the Hymn. She rocked slightly side to side in time with it, her lips shaping the words of the Cure prayer silently. She could feel something inside her, like the rushing of waves or the beating of wings, and it grew stronger. She spoke the words of the prayer aloud, and for a moment the rapid flutter of power intensified, and then it fell away halfway through the prayer, and she felt empty.
She opened her eyes and found the sphere glowing with a pure white light in her hands, the runes on its surface a bright, glittering blue, and was bitterly disappointed. Had her father failed, too, the first time he tried?
"You did very well, for the first time," Lord Kieran said. He leaned forward and touched another piece of crystal-a flat, rectangular piece double the length of her hand-to the sphere and the glow was drawn out of the sphere and into his crystal. "I did not expect you to get even that far. What happened?"
Yuna frowned. "It felt like a bird's wings, beating inside me, and it got faster, and then faded away suddenly."
"You drew the power, but did not shape it properly," Lord Kieran said. "You must do three things when you are casting a spell. You must draw the power into you, hold what you already have, and shape it, all at the same time. It is a hard thing to do. Try again."
She closed her eyes again and concentrated. It came easier if she hummed the Hymn to the Fayth, for the rhythm was like the slow, relentless rush of waves against the shore. She hummed it, rocking back and forth, until she could feel again the beating inside her. She concentrated on that, encouraged it as she might the tiny thread of flame when she started a cooking-fire, or the way a slow trickle of water could grow to a rushing flood. It was building slowly inside her, more slowly than before but that was good, it meant she could watch it more carefully. She gathered it, hoarded it, each tiny drop added to the others. More, and more, the wings of the magic beating hard against her mind, and she spoke the words of the prayer slowly and carefully, trying to pay attention both to that and to the power that swelled within her.
She spoke the last word, and the flash of light was dazzling even through her closed eyes. She opened them and saw Lord Kieran watching her carefully.
The globe in her hands was merely clear, lifeless crystal.
"I did it!" she gasped, clutching the little sphere.
"You did indeed," he said, awarding her one of his rare smiles. "You cast the spell, but did not aim it. So that is the last piece: knowing whom you intend to heal. Let us do it again."
Five attempts later, she had managed three successful Cures, two on Lord Kieran and one on herself. Yuna's back ached and she wanted nothing more than to curl up on the dock and sleep, but she felt exhilarated.
"That is enough for tonight," Lord Kieran said, heaving himself to his feet with a grunt. "Do not try to cast anything without me present. We will meet again in one week's time to practice farther. When we are done learning cure magic, I will teach you the Sending."
Yuna scrambled to her feet and bowed, making the gesture of prayer once again. Lord Kieran moved away stiffly, leaning heavily on his staff. Yuna waited a moment, looking out at the sea where the last sliver of the sun was sinking below the horizon, and tried to freeze the moment in her mind. Summoning would not always be joyous, but she loved the feel of the white magic rushing through her.
She turned to go and saw a dark figure at the end of the dock. For one horrifying moment, she thought it might be a fiend-or worse, Lulu-but it was human-shaped, and too tall to be the black mage. She picked up her sandals and hurried toward the beach.
"Yuna should not go out alone," was all Kimahri said when she reached him.
"I'm sorry, Kimahri," she said as she fell in step beside him, heading up the cliff path to the village. "I wasn't alone. I was with Lord Kieran."
"Next time tell Kimahri," he said. "Kimahri not tell Lulu about summoner lessons, unless Yuna go off alone again."
"All right," she said quickly. "I promise."
They returned to the village in silence.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Significant spoilers for all of Final Fantasy X.
Notes: The second chapter of "A Summoner's Faith." Other chapters here.
Summary: Yuna's training as a summoner continues as she learns to cast magic.
The red light of sunset slanted across the beach, shading the sea to deep purple and the sand to a fiery golden-red glow. Soft, puffy clouds edged with gold and shadows framed the horizon where the sun sank into the sea. The sea breezes ruffled the plants, filling the air with the sweet scent of tropical flowers and the rich smell of green, growing things. The wind also carried the mournful sound of a lone flute, playing the hymn of the Fayth.
Yuna crossed the beach with her sandals in her hand, the sand still warm from the day's heat and gritty beneath her feet. Lord Kieran was seated at the end of the dock, his sandaled feet dangling just above the surface of the water. The crimson light turned his careworn, bearded face into a ferocious mask. He did not turn to greet her, but continued to play, the hymn melding into a sorrowful and grave tune Yuna did not recognize.
She sat quietly next to him, dipping her bare toes into the cool wavelets that lapped against the dock. There was no sign of Sin on the horizon, though she knew it had returned to Spira. Her father's Calm had not lasted after all. She folded her hands in her lap and waited.
The last mournful notes died away, and Lord Kieran turned to her. "Good evening, Yuna."
"Good evening, Lord Kieran." She made the gesture of prayer.
"Sin has returned to Spira," he said. "Our atonement has been insufficient."
"I still wish to face it," Yuna said.
"What if you, too, are unable to permanently banish Sin from our lives?" Lord Kieran asked. "Suppose you survive your pilgrimage and obtain the Final Aeon in Zanarkand, and you defeat Sin. What if that is not the end?"
She looked down at the water, tinted red with the sunset light. "Then at least the people of Spira will know a few years of peace before Sin comes again."
"If you are the one to defeat Sin, you will not live to see that."
"I know." She looked up at him. "But it is enough to know that, for a little while, people need not fear Sin."
He studied her for a long time, his eyes searching hers, and then nodded. "Have the priests taught you anything of magic?" he inquired.
"I think Lulu forbade them to. She thinks it will encourage me." Yuna frowned.
"I take it Lulu has not taught you anything of magic, either, then," he said.
"Can summoners learn black magic?" She was surprised. "I have only ever seen them use curative magic."
"A few choose to learn black magic, those who already know who their guardians will be and know that one of their guardians can use healing magic. Some choose to learn both, though it is a very slow path for those that take that route."
"I think..." Yuna took a deep breath. "I think I would like to learn white magic. I want Lulu as my guardian, when I go."
"Very well." Lord Kieran tucked his flute into the folds of his robe. He seemed able to produce an infinite number of wondrous things from his sleeves, his sash, and the folds of his robe, including potions and carved wooden toys for the children of the island. From his sleeve, he withdrew a small crystal sphere and cupped it in his hands.
"This sphere helps focus the magic when you are still learning," Lord Kieran said, proffering the piece of crystal.
Yuna took it gingerly. It was surprisingly heavy in her hands for its size, and she focused carefully lest she drop the precious thing.
"The runes inscribed on the surface contain the magic. I don't expect you to do perfectly on your first try, and unfinished magic is dangerous. The sphere will hold it for you and keep it from harming us."
"Unfinished Cure magic can harm us?" Yuna looked up, startled.
"White magic and black are not so different at their roots. They are both made of Yevon's power, shaped by prayer. It is the intent and the shaping words that differentiate them. Some of the most powerful white magic can destroy fiends in a single strike." Lord Kieran smiled faintly. "Fire is not innately bad, for it warms our homes and cooks our food. However, it is destructive when applied with focused intent to fiends. In the same way, the holy light of Cure heals our wounds and gives us strength to go on, but the power that underlies both is the same force, and left unchecked, it is dangerous."
Yuna gazed down at the sphere in her hands, mesmerized by the way the light reflected off it as sunlight off waves.
"Now," Lord Kieran said. "The words you will speak are thus." He taught her the words, in the fluid language of the Hymn, the language of Yevon's temples. She repeated them slowly. He made her rehearse them five times before he was content that she was pronouncing them exactly right.
"The way to transform the spoken words into power is to feel the grace of Yevon all around you," he said when he was satisfied with her pronunciation. "Close your eyes. It is in the lapping of the waves. It is the peace in the Hymn of the Fayth. It is the fury of a storm, and the feel of new grass beneath your feet."
Yuna closed her eyes and held the sphere tightly in her cupped palms. Lord Kieran's recital blurred into a litany that rose and fell with the same comforting cadence as the Hymn. She rocked slightly side to side in time with it, her lips shaping the words of the Cure prayer silently. She could feel something inside her, like the rushing of waves or the beating of wings, and it grew stronger. She spoke the words of the prayer aloud, and for a moment the rapid flutter of power intensified, and then it fell away halfway through the prayer, and she felt empty.
She opened her eyes and found the sphere glowing with a pure white light in her hands, the runes on its surface a bright, glittering blue, and was bitterly disappointed. Had her father failed, too, the first time he tried?
"You did very well, for the first time," Lord Kieran said. He leaned forward and touched another piece of crystal-a flat, rectangular piece double the length of her hand-to the sphere and the glow was drawn out of the sphere and into his crystal. "I did not expect you to get even that far. What happened?"
Yuna frowned. "It felt like a bird's wings, beating inside me, and it got faster, and then faded away suddenly."
"You drew the power, but did not shape it properly," Lord Kieran said. "You must do three things when you are casting a spell. You must draw the power into you, hold what you already have, and shape it, all at the same time. It is a hard thing to do. Try again."
She closed her eyes again and concentrated. It came easier if she hummed the Hymn to the Fayth, for the rhythm was like the slow, relentless rush of waves against the shore. She hummed it, rocking back and forth, until she could feel again the beating inside her. She concentrated on that, encouraged it as she might the tiny thread of flame when she started a cooking-fire, or the way a slow trickle of water could grow to a rushing flood. It was building slowly inside her, more slowly than before but that was good, it meant she could watch it more carefully. She gathered it, hoarded it, each tiny drop added to the others. More, and more, the wings of the magic beating hard against her mind, and she spoke the words of the prayer slowly and carefully, trying to pay attention both to that and to the power that swelled within her.
She spoke the last word, and the flash of light was dazzling even through her closed eyes. She opened them and saw Lord Kieran watching her carefully.
The globe in her hands was merely clear, lifeless crystal.
"I did it!" she gasped, clutching the little sphere.
"You did indeed," he said, awarding her one of his rare smiles. "You cast the spell, but did not aim it. So that is the last piece: knowing whom you intend to heal. Let us do it again."
Five attempts later, she had managed three successful Cures, two on Lord Kieran and one on herself. Yuna's back ached and she wanted nothing more than to curl up on the dock and sleep, but she felt exhilarated.
"That is enough for tonight," Lord Kieran said, heaving himself to his feet with a grunt. "Do not try to cast anything without me present. We will meet again in one week's time to practice farther. When we are done learning cure magic, I will teach you the Sending."
Yuna scrambled to her feet and bowed, making the gesture of prayer once again. Lord Kieran moved away stiffly, leaning heavily on his staff. Yuna waited a moment, looking out at the sea where the last sliver of the sun was sinking below the horizon, and tried to freeze the moment in her mind. Summoning would not always be joyous, but she loved the feel of the white magic rushing through her.
She turned to go and saw a dark figure at the end of the dock. For one horrifying moment, she thought it might be a fiend-or worse, Lulu-but it was human-shaped, and too tall to be the black mage. She picked up her sandals and hurried toward the beach.
"Yuna should not go out alone," was all Kimahri said when she reached him.
"I'm sorry, Kimahri," she said as she fell in step beside him, heading up the cliff path to the village. "I wasn't alone. I was with Lord Kieran."
"Next time tell Kimahri," he said. "Kimahri not tell Lulu about summoner lessons, unless Yuna go off alone again."
"All right," she said quickly. "I promise."
They returned to the village in silence.