TM 143: Revenge
I stood there while Braska and Jecht sacrificed themselves to an ancient tradition. The act was futile, we all learned on that day, but it had to be done. Peace, even the illusion of it, mean more to Braska than his life.
Many have fallen in the name of Yevon. The spiral of death would continue if no one would stand up to it.
Why didn't we? I didn't understand. They had lives. They had children. I was an outcast. Why wasn't it me?
But I lived.
I made it to the entrance of the temple before it truly hit me. My mentor, my best friend, my family, had been murdered and I let it happen. I cried. No one should have to go through that. No one.
I was alone.
I balled my fists and punched the stone archway in pure-cussed rage. My knuckles bled, but the physical pain was nothing compared to my mental anguish. I shouldn't be alive. I didn't deserve to live.
No. I was a Guardian. Braska's sacrifice would not be in vain. The truth about the teachings of Yevon had been revealed to me. The lies had to be exposed. The mindless slaughter had to be stopped.
Yunalesca...
My feet carried me back to the Chamber of the Fayth before I could begin to clear my thoughts. My heart was broken.
"Where is the sense in all this," I demanded rhetorically, "Braska believed in Yevon's teachings and died for them! Jecht believed in Braska and gave his life for him!"
Yunalesca betrayed no hint of remorse. Her answer was gravely calm, "They chose to die because they had hope."
"No!" It was all lies. She smiled seductively, the embodiment of evil behind the façade of heroic destiny. My hate drove me forward; my katana poised for the kill.
It was exactly what she wanted.
Effortlessly, she batted me away with the back of her hand. I was defeated; shattered by an unearthly force.
I was falling, though time and space, it seemed. Pyreflies swarmed in my mind and blurred my vision. I'd failed.
I didn't deserve to die.
The snow was cold. My memory of it was, at least. Still, it was more comforting than my heart. My soul ached. Pyreflies and snowflakes danced about me.
In my rage I had failed to realize something that was now mockingly clear to me; Braska and Jecht had realized it all along: their lives were dedicated to their children.
It was not my revenge to be had.
I was a Guardian. It was my duty to guide them to their future.
Muse: Sir Auron
Fandom: Final Fantasy X
Words: 438
Many have fallen in the name of Yevon. The spiral of death would continue if no one would stand up to it.
Why didn't we? I didn't understand. They had lives. They had children. I was an outcast. Why wasn't it me?
But I lived.
I made it to the entrance of the temple before it truly hit me. My mentor, my best friend, my family, had been murdered and I let it happen. I cried. No one should have to go through that. No one.
I was alone.
I balled my fists and punched the stone archway in pure-cussed rage. My knuckles bled, but the physical pain was nothing compared to my mental anguish. I shouldn't be alive. I didn't deserve to live.
No. I was a Guardian. Braska's sacrifice would not be in vain. The truth about the teachings of Yevon had been revealed to me. The lies had to be exposed. The mindless slaughter had to be stopped.
Yunalesca...
My feet carried me back to the Chamber of the Fayth before I could begin to clear my thoughts. My heart was broken.
"Where is the sense in all this," I demanded rhetorically, "Braska believed in Yevon's teachings and died for them! Jecht believed in Braska and gave his life for him!"
Yunalesca betrayed no hint of remorse. Her answer was gravely calm, "They chose to die because they had hope."
"No!" It was all lies. She smiled seductively, the embodiment of evil behind the façade of heroic destiny. My hate drove me forward; my katana poised for the kill.
It was exactly what she wanted.
Effortlessly, she batted me away with the back of her hand. I was defeated; shattered by an unearthly force.
I was falling, though time and space, it seemed. Pyreflies swarmed in my mind and blurred my vision. I'd failed.
I didn't deserve to die.
The snow was cold. My memory of it was, at least. Still, it was more comforting than my heart. My soul ached. Pyreflies and snowflakes danced about me.
In my rage I had failed to realize something that was now mockingly clear to me; Braska and Jecht had realized it all along: their lives were dedicated to their children.
It was not my revenge to be had.
I was a Guardian. It was my duty to guide them to their future.
Muse: Sir Auron
Fandom: Final Fantasy X
Words: 438