Isaaru was momentarily stunned. The Aeon proved two things... he wasn't imagining the statue and he wasn't crazy.

As he stood and stared, the Aeon moved on her own, one wing lodging itself into the fiend's mouth while the other bloomed with fire and carved a hot path along the serpent's side.

Blinking, Isaaru drew in a breath and opened his mouth to command-

But he didn't have to. The Aeon wasn't obeying him. She was acting of her own accord.

"Holy shit." Maroda commented inelegantly nearby, the people they were trying to help staring with wide, fearful eyes at the masked apparition. "What IS that?"

"Paine." Isaaru breathed in reply, stepping back.

The serpent rattled its tail again, the sonic vibration causing the Aeon to fall back a few thundering steps. It swooped in to bite, but she brought both wings together and returned the gesture that had knocked her back, sending the fiend flying. It crashed into the wall and let out a screech, hood on its neck flaring as it slithered upwards once more.

Something glittering and purple surrounded the Aeon as the eyes behind the mask narrowed, and as the snake swayed, preparing for another attack, what appeared to be a ghostly image of it was torn away from its body. It swept forward and into the Aeon, the purple glow replaced by green as she healed herself.

Now sagging, the serpent hissed valiantly at the Aeon. Its small, beady eyes moved past the summon to the summoner, Isaaru making a soft noise of distress.

Maroda saw this and stepped forward again, trying to fulfill his role as Guardian. The serpent's eyes glinted red, the invisible wave of power that it lashed out with sweeping past Maroda with enough force to disturb the dirt at his feet. Having brought his arms up to defend against a physical blow, Maroda found they were the first things to stiffen as the fiend's power took hold.

As though the color was bleaching out of him, the Guardian swiftly became a grey and umoving statue, his mouth opening in an attempt to speak before he was silenced by the spell.

Isaaru cried his brother's name, his Aeon turning her head slightly to see what was going on. The snake took the opportunity to dart past her, Isaaru bringing his staff up in front of him and closing his eyes as the fiend bore down on him.

There was a howl and something ploughed the serpent into the ground, perching atop it like a raptor with prey. Isaaru peeked his eyes open and then straightened.

Pyreflies drifted skyward. The fiend's blood stained the statue his brother had become, the Aeon who still stood with masked face turned toward him, the earth of the road, the redrock of the cliff walls and the hem of his heavy robes.

There was a second Aeon crouched where the fiend had been, the great horns on its head curling behind it and heat rising from its great back and shoulders.

"Ifrit." Isaaru murmured, bowing his head in reverence. Pacce moved to his side, putting a hand on his arm.

"Brother! Fix Maroda!" The boy cried, Isaaru flushing and hurrying to cast Esuna on the statue. As Maroda shook his head to clear it, a figure stepped from the shadow of a pillar next to the sea cliff and approached those gathered.

Ifrit turned his head to regard the figure, Isaaru noting it was a woman of indeterminate age.

"Not a very good show." She remarked, Maroda moving to stand next to his brothers with a frown. "That could have had a very messy ending."

"Thank goodness you were here." The middle brother chided, Isaaru giving him a warning look. "We could have-"

"She's new." The woman tersely interrupted. "And Ifrit's quicker. I daresay you couldn't."

"Thank you, my lady." Isaaru breathed, offering the woman a bow. "We owe you a debt of gratitude."

"Hm." Folding her arms, the woman wordlessly dismissed the fiery Aeon and shook her head. "You seem to be lacking control."

"... I don't think so." Isaaru said carefully, his eyes straying to Paine. The Aeon was looking at the woman with a blazing expression in her eyes and Isaaru could almost feel the anger radiating form the being. The summoner felt curiously regretful that he couldn't hear her voice. "As you said, the Aeon is... new."

"And as seemingly tumultuous as the one who sleeps in Baaj." The woman chuckled, Maroda opening his mouth to speak again.

"You can't talk to my brother that way, lady!" Pacce said, planting his hands on his hips. "He's gonna be High Summoner!"

"Is that so?" The woman continued to sound amused. "And are you his Guardian?"

"We both are." Maroda replied coldly. "Who might you be?"

"My name is Belgemine." She bowed after her introduction. "I am a summoner as well, but not one that shares your pilgrimage."

"Oh?" Isaaru frowned. "You don't journey to seek the Final Aeon?"

"Is this yours?" Belgemine gestured to Paine, who shifted slightly more upright. "If so... this is a sad state of affairs."

"Sh-she's not." Isaaru swallowed. "She is just a regular Aeon."

"Nothing regular about an Aeon who acts on their own, without the command of a master." Belgemine arched an eyebrow. "So, if she's not your Final Aeon, why were you shouting about it before you summoned her?"

"I-" Isaaru began, a loud rattling noise issuing forth from the Aeon as she shook her wings. "Um... it was just a-a misunderstanding, that's all. She's the last Aeon I aquired."

He dismissed her. There was a rush of air as she leapt upwards and exploded into pyreflies, drawing a startled look from the other summoner.

"I must say, I've never seen the like of her before." Belgemine murmured. "Do you make for the temple at Djose?"

"Of course." Isaaru replied, Paine's presence in his mind both a relief and a touch of worry. "I am still on a journey, even if you aren't."

"Yes... though I am still journeying, just not to the same end as you." Belgemine gave him an almost appraising look. "I'm looking for someone worthy of the title High Summoner."

"How's that working out for you?" Maroda asked, rolling his shoulders to work out the last of the stiffness from his petrification.

Belgemine smiled, a hint of ice and acid in the gesture. "I'm still looking." She remarked, turning away and moving down the road. "If I were you, I would spend time in the temple praying for strength. If the foes you faced here gave you so much trouble, you don't stand a chance further down the long road to Zanarkand."

Pacce made a rude gesture at the retreating woman's back, Maroda cuffing him lightly upside the head. Isaaru let out a sigh.

/Don't let her get to you./ Paine's voice was cold, and the summoner couldn't help shivering. /She has no right to judge you on your strength./

/Because she's not putting her talents towards bringing the Calm?/ Isaaru nodded at Maroda, who moved to the group they had been trying to protect.

/No. Because she's Unsent. Which means she failed./

...

It was well into the small hours of the morning before they made it to Djose, Maroda bearing the signs of further fighting on the road. Exhausted and wounded, they quickened their pace upon seeing the temple sprawled in the distance.

Isaaru carried a sleeping Pacce on his back, and when the monks took the small party in, the summoner's body protested as he crouched next to the bed in the room at the back of the temple. Once the boy was tucked in, Isaaru sat on the edge of the bed and heaved a sigh.

/Maybe if you took the robes off, it'd be easier to walk./ Paine murmured, making Isaaru laugh softly aloud. /For a guy who travels as much as you, you're awfully out of shape./

/When I was in Bevelle, I lived very comfortably./ Isaaru stifled a yawn. /There wasn't much reason for exercise./

/Until you found out... what you were?/ Paine ventured.

Isaaru made a soft noise and looked down at his robes. /All summoners dress like this, in one way or another. Seymour Guado, the Maester's son. Lord Braska, too.../

/Yeah, I guess you're right. But while it would be fine for cool weather, I don't think it's helping you out much here./

/You're concerned for my well being? Or perhaps you feel I'm moving too slowly.../ Isaaru smiled slightly, looking up when Maroda entered.

"You look pleased with yourself." The younger male remarked, also stifling a yawn. "It's almost morning, I wouldn't exactly consider this leg of the journey cause to celebrate."

"Ah, well. I wasn't thinking about that. It's just nice to sit." Isaaru moved over to make room for his brother. He found himself gazing at Maroda with an appraising eye, and his expression caused the younger man to frown.

"What?" Maroda asked almost accusingly, leaning away. "You alright?"

"Yes. You saw a healer." Isaaru nodded approvingly. "I wish I could have healed you after that last fight."

"You did enough, don't worry." Maroda continued frowning. "Maybe you should get some sleep."

"Soon, I promise. I'd like to go and pray first." Isaaru got up, grimacing at the effort it took. It seemed like tonight he would be praying on his feet.

"If you say so. I'll stay and watch Pacce." Maroda's eyes remained fixed on him as he moved backwards to the door. "Be safe."

"Of course." /Paine?/

/Mhm?/

/Do you find my brother attractive?/ Isaaru eased the carved door shut behind him and moved to the antechamber.

/Uh... I think he's... capable? This is sort of out of nowhere. Why are you asking?/ Paine's tone wasn't quite exasperation, but Isaaru could sense the unspoken 'I don't want to talk about this.'

/Because you were staring at him back there./ Isaaru stopped in front of the statue of Lord Braska, the last summoner to defeat Sin. His palms were sweating, so he dragged them over the fabric of his robes before bowing to the holy figure before him.

/I wasn't staring./ Paine stated bluntly after a moment of silence.

/Admiring then?/ Isaaru breathed a sigh, unable to pray while carrying on an inward conversation but wanting to give the illusion that he was so they wouldn't be interrupted.

/No. It's sort of a pointless thing considering I have no body and I exist mostly in your head, Isaaru./ It sounded as though her teeth would be clenched if she had them.

/But you used my eyes to look at him. Like you were... sizing him up or something./ Isaaru tried to judge her emotions through the strange bond they shared. She was suddenly very guarded.

/It's not what you think. Your brother handles himself very well in battle. It's the first chance I've had to really look at him. That's all./ Paine's voice now felt very prickly.

/Even if that weren't the case, I wouldn't judge you, just.../ He felt his cheeks flush. /Please, either warn me next time or try not to do it while he's looking./

He stood for a moment in silence, realizing with a start that her voice and presence were gone. It seemed a good time to pray, so that's what he set about doing.

...

It was a mortal reaction, one that could be expected from a young woman, but not one that should have been given by a Fayth.

Paine retreated, fled in a better sense of the situation, and when she was safe inside the Farplane Glen, she cursed herself for storming away like a child.

"It wasn't like that... stupid men." She grumbled. Leaning against one of the few trees in the field, she heaved a sigh.

Like this would be a good place to hide... there were questions here that were probably more bothersome than Isaaru's.

Still... the summoner probably didn't want her spying on his prayers.

Closing her eyes, Paine waited in the relative silence and solitude. It wouldn't take them long to find her, the other Fayth, and until they did, she was going to calm herself down.

His questions had come from seemingly nowhere, but she should have been thankful his reaction wasn't more severe. She had, after all, taken subtle control of his body. Just his eyes... but it had been effortless, almost unconscious. Obviously, though her time flowed differently and it felt as though she had been a Fayth for years, her mortal memories were still close to the surface.

"Getting so involved is dangerous." A small voice said from her left, Paine opening her eyes slowly. "You shouldn't talk to him like that. You may cause him to go mad, take him off his path."

"Isaaru's stronger than you give him credit for." She replied, looking down at what appeared to be a young boy in a hooded shirt. Unlike many of the others that appeared in the Glen, he was solid seeming and didn't flicker like a bad sphere transmission. Despite his youth, he wa slike her... a spirit without a body that could be summoned forth to become a powerful Aeon. He was the winged dragon Bahamut, and his small size belied his strength. "You should know that better than most. I believe you were his first, weren't you?" Paine continued, twitching an eyebrow.

"I was. His faith is strong, but that doesn't mean his mind and body are." Bahamut smiled in a manner that suggested he knew something she didn't.

Paine wanted to punch the look off his face.

"I don't have a choice." She said, Bahamut tilting his head to the side.

"But you must. We are born of our choice to give our spirits from our still living bodies." The smaller Fayth said. "That means you chose to be here. And it means you are consciously choosing to interfere."

"I didn't make the choice to die." Paine folded her arms. "I told you that already. I was killed... I came here. But I was also there, in that statue. Half existing. Mute. Drifting. Like all the others who came here before me."

"Those who passed on without the help from a summoner." Bahamut murmured.

"So, I repeat, I have no choice. When Isaaru prayed at that statue, it was like the world came back into focus." Paine looked away from him. "All of a sudden, I understood what I was. I don't know how I ended up that way. There was no chance for me to make a choice."

"You're young. You're new. You'll understand in time." Bahamut's tone was probably supposed to be encouraging. Paine's urge to strike him only grew. "We all got here the same way, and here is where we'll stay. The cycle will go on and on, unless-"

"Unless your hairbrained, ill timed plan comes to pass?" Another voice called, both Paine and Bahamut looking across the field at an approaching figure. The latter pulled his mouth into a thin line while the former regarded the newcomer with curiosity. "Quit your preaching, boy. She's too smart to be coerced."

"And you are?" Paine asked, smirking. She was thankful for the interruption, and the newcomer was a far more interesting person than Bahamut seemed.

"A swordsman like yourself." The figure stopped a few feet away and looked down at Bahamut from behind a stylized bird mask. "Don't you have other people to bother?"

"Am I being a bother?" Bahamut asked, scowling. "I'm not the one interrupting a private conversation."

"And I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner." This comment was directed at Paine, who made a soft noise of approval. "Why don't we go somewhere else? Somewhere less stupid."

"That sounds fine to me. See you later, pint-size." Paine straightened and moved after the man. A glance over her shoulder showed her Bahamut staring after their retreating figures. "So, what's this about?"

"He and the others think they have everything figured out." The man scoffed. "They're trying to kill Sin for good... they thought they had a way to break the cycle of rebirth but they failed. Some situations don't call for the rule of 'if at first you don't succeed...'"

"So, they're going for round two of a plan that probably won't work. He was trying to recruit me back there?" Paine asked, the man giving her a grin.

"I told him you were too smart." He said with a laugh. "By the way, I'm Yojimbo."

"Fitting." Paine murmured. "You can call me Paine."

"I already know your name." He informed her. "You're well known here, in some circles."

"...why?" Paine frowned, following him still.

"Because we needed a plan B." He said quietly in return.

...

The next two days were spent recovering from the trip and the battles. They were spent purchasing new supplies and surprisingly, new clothing for both Isaaru and Pacce. The funds that were used in this particular purchase were earned back in part by Isaaru performing services for the sudden influx of people that were entering the temple.

Rumors were spreading of an operation to be carried out by the Crusaders, an operation to defeat Sin without the use of summoners. Maroda listened to what people were saying, deciding what was and wasn't safe to relay to his brother.

If there was a way, any way at all that they could change the outcome of this pilgrimage... short of miracles, Maroda wasn't sure if it was possible, but the hope was enough to make him silently cheer the Crusaders on.

"They have Sinspawn out there in cages." Isaaru told him just before they retired on the second day to sleep. "Some of the men... tending to it were poisoned today. I made a few gil healing them."

"Must be part of the operation." Maroda observed. "I think they're going to lure Sin in."

Isaaru would have normally said something about performing his duties as a summoner, or quoted the teachings or even said something about how things would have been different if Lord Braska were alive, but instead he simply regarded Maroda with a cool and very alien expression and said nothing.

He then grew withdrawn. Maroda watched him sit on their borrowed bed and close his eyes. Subtle changes in his face made it clear that the eldest brother was carrying on a silent conversation with himself, something that had been happening with alarming frequency since the incident at Mi'ihen when Isaaru had stated he was worried he was losing his mind.

"I'd like to do the trial tomorrow, if it's not too much of a burden." Isaaru said softly, Maroda gazing at him.

"Why would you say something like that?" He asked, Isaaru looking almost startled. "I'm your Guardian. Any burden you bear, I do as well to the best of my abilities. 'Protect the summoner, even at the cost of one's own life,' remember?"

"You follow the code well, but what about your faith, Maroda? Do you believe in my cause? My religion?" Isaaru's hands contracted on his robes, his eyes flashing.

"You're acting out of sorts. You know where I stand, brother." Maroda drew himself up. "My belief is in you. In your strength. In your resolve. It always has been."

Isaaru was silent once more, but he didn't look away, their gazes locked.

"Out of sorts?" The older male murmured.

"Since we left the highroad, you've been in a daze. I don't know what happened in that cave, but it's changed you." Maroda turned and moved across the room to their things. After shifting aside a few bags, he straightened with what he had been searching for in his grip.

"What are you doing?" Isaaru asked, getting to his feet.

"Something I should have done in Mi'ihen." Maroda frowned. "I'm selling the sword. Passing whatever curse is on it to someone else."

"You can't!" Isaaru growled very uncharacteristically, taking a step forward.

"Why not? You need to make up the rest of the money you spent on clothes you're not even wearing. And if you're not going to use this thing, it's just extra baggage that we don't need." Maroda replied coldly.

"It's not yours." Isaaru' voice had grown a touch quieter, a bit flatter even. "You can't do that."

"Maybe you and I can reach a compromise." Maroda squared his shoulders. "You tell me what you saw in that cave and I'll give this back."

"Maroda-"

"Cause unless you tell me what the hell is going on, this sword is gone. GONE. And hopefully with it, all of our problems!"

"It's not the sword!" Isaaru cried, eyes welling up with tears. "It's her! It's her, she's in me like all the others, but it's different! I can hear her in my head! Getting rid of the sword will do nothing to stop this!"

Maroda froze. This was his brother he was talking to now. The desperate pleading, the tears, the terrified hand gestures... this was Isaaru.

And the 'she' he was shouting about could be no one but the mysterious Aeon that Isaaru had summoned on the road.

"I told you... when we crossed the Calmlands, I told you." Maroda whispered. "I told you to be careful. That your powers were too strong for your own good! Your faith! Your beliefs! I thought you would have learned that in the gorge that day! We almost lost you there, you think you would have learned!"

"You have no idea what it's like." Isaaru gasped. "The pull, the call, the whispers... you don't believe in Yevon, so you don't shoulder the need for salvation that comes with it."

"If worshipping a god that punishes his people with a never ending cycle of death paves a road to salvation, Isaaru, then I'm happier as a heretic!" Maroda shouted. "I never wanted this for you! I never wanted you to go through this!"

"I didn't have a choice!" Isaaru's voice cracked. "When you hear the call, the hymn resonates with the screams of the dead! It's too big, it's too much to ignore! We're told our suffering will bring the Calm... if the Calm can silence the screaming for those that will follow in my footsteps, then I will gladly die for them."

"That sounds an awful lot like a choice to me." Maroda sneered, looping the sword through his belt. "Stay here until I get back. It's too dangerous for you to be out wandering."

"What are you going to do?" Isaaru asked again, Maroda turning his back.

"I'm going for a walk. I can't think in here. It's too stifling." Maroda took in a breath. "You sure you're the one who wants to do the trial? Or is it her?"

"I'm a summoner, it's my duty-" Isaaru began.

"Then as your Guardian, I'm obligated to guard you. To protect you." Maroda put his hand on the sword. "Whatever happens to this is for your own good."

He left before Isaaru could protest any further, shutting the stone door behind him.