59: Regroup

The unmistakable sounds of battle greeted Rikku and Braska as they made their way towards the Arena's sparring ring.

"Looks like the boys are having fun without us," she noted.

Off to the side, she saw a stooped figure watching the fight from the sidelines: Trema, his wrinkled face lit with unholy glee as he watched his latest creation try to tear its opponents apart.

Suppressing a shudder, she turned to the fierce showdown raging in the center of the field. Her heart soared as she caught sight of first Auron, then Jecht. They both seemed to be in good shape, though fully engrossed in their battle.

Their opponent was a creation she'd never seen before and it seemed to be composed of many different fiends smashed together in a scorpion-like hodgepodge of limbs and mandibles, dark and foreboding. Typical of Trema. She grimaced. It towered above the boys, pincers clacking angrily as they faced off.

Braska huffed in disapproval. He was studying the abomination with a look of intense displeasure.

"Scary, isn't it? I bet it's even meaner than it looks, 'cause they usually are. Trema likes to breed them that way."

Braska expression tightened further.

"But don't worry," she hurried to continue, "he'll pull them out if it gets too violent. That old guy can always bring down his own creations."

"While that is reassuring to hear," Braska replied, "how in Yevon's name can this sort of thing be sanctioned?"

"Huh?" She blinked. "What're you talking about?"

Braska gestured at the monster. "Look at the thing! It's obviously a creation of magic and malice. Such a creature should not exist in this world. Fiends are the displaced souls of those passed before us. To use them in this way… to warp their existence even more so than death itself has—!" His voice was rising, confusion giving way to fury. "How could anyone with a hint of humanity prolong the suffering of those poor souls in this sickening manner? And for entertainment?"

Speechless, she turned back towards the ring, Braska's indignant words echoing in her ears. "I… I never thought of it that way," she admitted, a little cowed. "I mean, they're just fiends…" She trailed off, her words sounding hollow. "People don't like to think about where fiends come from much. They're usually trying to kill us, right?"

"But that is my point," Braska said firmly. "We should think about them. We are striving to put them out of their misery. For they lack what we still have-compassion, intelligence, empathy. That which makes us human." He looked out over the field with a deep frown. "This entire setup is a mockery of a summoner's sacred duties to the people."

It did seem a lot worse when he put it that way. She hadn't thought much about the arena back during Yuna's Pilgrimage, other than that Tidus' obsession with collecting samples of every last fiend on Spira had gotten annoying. Yunie herself had bowed out of participating in the fights early on, though she never said why. Rikku had figured Yunie was as sick and tired of collecting fiends as she was.

Now, though, she wondered. Do all summoners see things so differently? She snuck a glance at Braska; he looked stricken. Well, on the plus side, at least he doesn't like Trema now, either.

"I can see why you didn't like him. I admit, I am also feeling slightly less alarmed at your earlier revelation now," he added, almost as if he could hear her. "If Yuna assisted you in putting an end to this travesty, then you both acted justly."

Rikku scuffed her boot into the ground. Was it just if it was still murder? Wait, but was it really murder if he was Unsent?

Her thoughts slowed as Trema approached them; she moved behind Braska and hunched in on herself. "Incoming."

"Greetings, friends!" Trema called out. "We don't usually receive so many visitors at the same time! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"A courtesy call," Braska answered politely, bowing. Somehow, between one blink and the next, he'd tucked his rage and disgust behind an airtight mask of cordiality. "I am Summoner Braska of Bevelle, and this is my companion, Rikkma," he said, gesturing towards her. "I am here to collect my Guardians, if you please."

"A summoner, eh?" Trema's beady eyes narrowed. He looked at her and his probing gaze lingered over her unusual headdress.

Wincing, she tugged the scarf around herself more tightly and averted her eyes. Don't look at me! Nothing to see here!

With a shrug, Trema addressed Braska. "You are the leader of those two fine gentlemen, then! My arena hasn't been so lively in years." As if to demonstrate, someone shouted, followed by a crash and a mighty roar. Chuckling, Trema turned toward the field and beckoned for them to follow. "Come this way. Walk with an old man! I've got to keep an eye on things, you know. Sometimes my children get a little out of hand."

Braska's mouth thinned as soon as Trema's back was turned, but he said nothing, instead following quietly.

Rikku fidgeted before chasing after them. Much as she didn't want to remain in Trema's proximity, she had to see what was going on with Auron and Jecht.

"... quite difficult to craft my children to my exacting specifications," Trema was explaining to Braska as she caught up. Braska's face was back to his infamous placidity and alarm bells started jangling in her head. "Your warriors have been most adept at collecting sample material for me to work with, you see. Without their assistance, it would have taken me much longer to give life to these beasts."

"You think of this as giving life, do you?" Braska replied, slanting an unreadable look towards Trema.

No-no-no! No confrontation! Auron and Jecht's fight forgotten, she stopped out of Trema's line of sight and motioned wildly at Braska. Don't provoke him!

Unfortunately, Braska now had the same glint in his eye that he'd gotten back at Djose, when he'd made his ill-planned decision to call upon Shiva during Sin's attack on the Temple.

Braska, no! She stamped her foot. Now would be a great time for him to learn to read minds!

Trema seemed too caught up in his own explanation to notice Braska's cooling demeanor. "Your soldiers are amazing!" he continued blithely, turning to watch the fight. "Look! Some of the finest specimens of warriors I've ever seen. That big one especially has great potential," he added, nodding towards Jecht. "They've been cutting through my collection of fiends like a hot knife through butter!"

"I am a bit surprised you would allow them to destroy your own children—as you call them," Braska replied, tone like ice. "Do you not value their lives?" The question seemed innocuous, but the delivery caught Trema's attention.

Dropping her arms, Rikku stifled a groan. Now he's done it!

Trema looked Braska over. His lips stretched into a mocking grin. "I see it now. Their skill, their passion, their drive… of course, it makes perfect sense that they would be Guardians. Quite a pity. Really. Quite a pity."

A frown appeared on Braska's face.

"I would love to keep those two with me as assistants… perhaps, even as my pupils. They've been quite invaluable to my research, you see. It would be a shame to waste such talent on an endeavor doomed to failure."

Rikku's blood ran cold, then hot. You'll never get your claws on Auron, you undead freak! She opened her mouth to object, but Braska beat her to it.

"They are called to a higher purpose than what you would misuse them for," he said.

Trema barked out a laugh. "You have the gall to claim I'm the one using them?" He shook his head again. "You're hardly one to talk, Lord Summoner. Or, do you mean to say you could complete your Pilgrimage without relying on the crutch of your Guardians?"

Braska stiffened. Knowingly or not, Trema had aimed right at his sore spot.

She slipped to Braska's side and caught the edge of his robe, tugging his sleeve. "Braska—"

"My Guardians serve me of their own free will," Braska replied, shaking her off. "It is their choice. I do not use them, as you imply, and certainly not for purposes as twisted and impure as creating those travesties." He canted his head towards the gigantic scorpion creature—now missing both of its claws, she noted—his eyes never leaving Trema.

"Pretty lies you summoners spin." Trema smirked. "That's the problem with your kind. So passive, hiding behind your aeons while you let the real warriors carry your burdens. It's no wonder none of you can ever defeat Sin without our help."

Bristling, Rikku couldn't help herself. "Summoners aren't weak," she spat. You'll learn that one day... when it's too late.

"Still hiding behind a Guardian! And a woman at that," Trema laughed.

She stepped forward, teeth bared. That's it. I'll kill him twice!

"Rikkma." Braska pulled her back and shook his head, an unspoken command to stand down. He regarded Trema thoughtfully and his next words sounded sincere, even if spoken through gritted teeth. "It is obvious we have a difference of opinion on this matter. Perhaps I am letting my own prejudices cloud my judgement. But I ask you, is all this needless violence and cruelty really necessary?"

"Cruelty? Isn't it more cruel to let your Guardians march to their death, unprepared to face the reality that is Sin?" Trema clasped his hands behind his stooped back. "Without me, their futures will be… limited."

A chill ran down her spine. Braska may have thought Trema spoke in abstraction, but she knew he understood the secret of the Final Aeon, and the sacrifice necessary to defeat Sin. With his uncanny ability to understand and create fiends, he might even have figured out just what Sin's new armored body was created from every time it was reborn. How could he not, after eight hundred years of being Unsent?

"Yes. I do believe summoners are weak, for you are only as strong as your Guardians," he continued. "They are the factors which determine how far your Pilgrimage can progress. And I am doing you the favor of training them. How privileged you summoners are, to be blind to something so obvious!"

"It is not the Guardians who defeat Sin," Braska retorted. Clearly, he felt slighted that Trema had slapped away his olive branch.

"In the past one thousand years, it hasn't been the summoners, either!" Trema replied sharply.

"Then you should be thankful that you'll finally experience an Eternal Calm in your lifetime."

"A boast!" Trema beamed, delighted, but the sudden shift from derisiveness to glee made Rikku refuse to trust it on principle. "You've got a bit more spine than most of the summoners who've made it this far, I'll give you that. You truly believe you'll be the one to defeat Sin?"

Braska only smiled faintly in return, and Rikku knew his smugness came from his knowledge of the future-not that Trema needed to know that.

Huh. Looks like Braska can play Trema's game pretty well too, she thought. It was—admittedly—a little weird being the only one present who could fully understand the real meanings behind their jabs.

"Such confidence! Do you wish to enter my arena and prove those strong words? I must warn you, my Ultima Buster is not a creation to be taken lightly." Trema waved towards the field and grinned. "In fact, it seems your friends are having a bit of trouble with it right now. Perhaps I'll let you be the one to rescue them this time, Lord Summoner." His tone darkened. "If you think you're up to the task, of course."

Distracted by Braska and Trema's faceoff, Rikku had forgotten about Auron and Jecht's fight. She whirled to assess it and sucked in her breath.

Somehow, Trema's Ultima Buster had regrown its missing limbs. It was hissing, enraged. Jecht was on one knee, panting, and Auron didn't look much better off, sagging against his sword, which he'd stabbed into the ground blade-down.

Braska's eyes widened. "I will protect my Guardians," he said, brandishing his staff. "In doing so, you may even be enlightened."

"Be my guest," Trema replied, pulling open the Arena's gate. "Your arrival seems to have brought your two companions unfortunate luck." He slammed the gate closed before Rikku could follow, his creepy smile returning. "Ah-ah-ah, not you, young lady. Your summoner said he could do this himself. Let's see if there's any merit to his words, hmm?"

"Braska!" she yelled, but he was already striding out of earshot, casting as he walked.

Auron's head whipped over as he reclaimed his sword and Jecht leapt to his feet, charging forward and yelling—his battle cry, apparently. With a crack of his blade, one of the Ultima Buster's tentacles dissolved into pyreflies.

Wow… he destroyed it in one hit. Maybe coming to the arena hadn't been all negative—Jecht seemed more comfortable channeling the power of Sin's Fang.

"And stay gone!" Jecht yelled as he scrambled away from the flailing fiend.

Auron rushed toward the creature's remaining limb and landed a punishing blow at the joint, causing the limb to dangle uselessly. A solid hit, but it was clear that his non-Celestial Weapon could only manage surface damage.

The creature swiped at him with its elongated neck; rather than trying to dodge, Auron lunged forward and buried his sword into the fiend's head. He hung on as it reared back, lifting him into the air. Keeping his death-grip on the hilt, he swung and planted his feet against the Buster's scaled body, then wrenched his sword out.

Jerking, the fiend threw Auron off of its body, sending him flying overhead. As gravity took hold Auron whirled, dropping like a deadly stone and severing through the dangling limb with brute force. The ensuing explosion of pyreflies nearly masked his duck and roll when he hit the ground, retreating out of the Buster's range of attack.

Show-off. She grinned. Celestial weapon or not, I guess he just can't let Jecht beat him.

"Auron! Jecht!" Braska called out. He held his staff level and cast buffering spells on them. "I've informed Trema that I would handle this thing myself!"

"The hell?!" Jecht rushed in for another quick hit with the Fang and managed to push the fiend back.

"You can't be serious!" Auron agreed. "It's still dangerous!" Even as he spoke, the Buster launched itself forward on tiny forelimbs, trying to slam into Braska with its massive chest. Auron rushed in to guard, protecting Braska from the blow.

Jecht leaned back, hefting his sword.

Rikku blinked. Wait a minute, is he actually gonna-

Skipping forward, Jecht threw his weapon like a spear straight towards the Buster.

Doesn't he remember what happened when he tried that with the Espada?!

The Fang lanced cleanly through the Buster's head. Rather than continuing its flight upward, however, the sword froze in mid-air, then began to spin.

She gaped. What?

It glowed brightly against the crisp blue sky. The sword's rotation stopped abruptly, point down. Then, with a sharp whistle, it plunged towards the fiend and hewed off the rest of the Buster's head.

Jecht leapt and caught his sword, which dulled to its strange silvery-black sheen as he touched it.

What just happened? Besides the fact that the Ultima Buster was still moving without a head, that was. Even Braska seemed at a loss, though Auron appeared unphased as he pressured the fiend with another attack. She wiped her goggles, then squinted at the scene. How did Jecht learn to do that with his sword?

"Quite the potential indeed," Trema remarked at her side, and Rikku jumped, having forgotten about him. "If it wasn't for his handicap as a Guardian, he'd make a fine apprentice. A pity, really. That boy should've become a proper crusader. He even looks a bit like Mi'ihen, don't you think?"

"Uh," she managed. "As long as you're not looking at his face, I guess?"

"Well, yes," Trema admitted with a loud cough. "Still, it seems your summoner won't keep his boast. As I predicted, those Guardians have already done the lion's share of his work."

Gritting her teeth, she tried to ignore Trema's withered, mocking smile and focused back on the fight.

Seriously crippled and angered to boot, the Ultima Buster waddled towards the three men.

"Here it comes," Auron yelled, dropping to one knee and holding his sword protectively in front of him.

"Duck and cover, B!" Jecht added, adopting a similar pose to Auron.

Braska also dropped to his knee and held his staff forward, though he didn't look away from the Ultima Buster as the other two did.

There was a burst of light, and a piercing whistle screamed through the air; one Rikku was all too familiar with.

Lulu had made sure none of them ever forgot it, especially when she'd gotten mad enough to trance.

"Ultima?" she screamed as the light became too blinding to look at. She whirled on Trema. "That thing can cast Ultima?"

"Why do you think I named it the Ultima Buster?" Trema replied, still with his ghoulish grin.

Even from the edge of the field, the air around her compressed from the force of the spell. Her ears popped, and the wooden fence began to splinter and groan under the extreme pressure. Then, like the eye of a malevolent storm, a sudden silence descended. It was the only warning before the spell exploded, rupturing everything within its radius. Eyes watering despite her goggles, she blinked until the spots faded and she could make out the figures on the field again. Jecht had been completely knocked out by the spell, sprawled next to his sword. Auron was down on one knee, panting; weak green lights from a burgeoning Cure spell withered and died around him.

The Buster advanced, preparing to deliver a final punishing swipe with its foreleg.

"Auron!" she screamed, one leg already half-flung over the fence. For a moment, seeing death careening toward her boys, she forgot. Forgot that this was the past, that this Trema hadn't been driven murderously insane by Sin's defeat. That this Trema still genuinely believed in his cause.

An answering roar rocketed from the center of the field with almost enough force to bowl her off her perch. Right before the Buster's attack could connect, it was stopped by a meaty shield.

Ifrit roared again in fury and shrugged off the attack, drawing his arm back for a powerful punch that sent the fiend staggering away.

Auron finally completed his spell and stumbled to his feet. He rushed after the fiend, landing a heavy blow against its armored chest and shattering the strange carapice. For a moment, it seemed like Auron's strike might fell the creature; it swayed drunkenly, then stilled.

Scowling, Auron prepared to hit it again when, without warning, pyreflies coalesced into two scorpion-tail-like limbs that burst from its torso. They waved, solidifying and replacing the ones that had been destroyed earlier.

"That's my baby!" Trema cheered.

She crossed her arms and settled further on the fence, glowering. "Aren't you supposed to be rooting for the humans?"

"Of course I wish for your companions to win-but the unenlightened are doomed to fall," he said easily. "Your Lord Braska needs to learn his place."

Rikku bit back her reply, then chewed on her lip when Auron continued his attack rather than retreating in the face of the new menaces. He hacked at the nearest arm, striking it with several quick hits until it was once again lopped off, disappearing almost as quickly as it had come.

The Buster attacked again. Its other limb drove clean through Ifrit—who exploded into pyreflies—and slapped Auron across the field. He flew straight into Jecht, who had just begun to sit up, and was promptly knocked back down with a loud grunt.

What's Braska even doing? She scanned the field, spotting him standing just out of the Ultima Buster's long reach; he'd retreated after recovering from the spell blast, and though his face was calm his eyes simmered with anger. Yikes. Trema really pissed him off.

He made a dignified bow to the fiend.

Is he insane? "You don't have time to be formal!" she screamed. Auron and Jecht must have thought the same thing, for they were both struggling to their feet to defend Braska. Auron staggered and caught himself with his sword, one hand clutching his side where he'd been hit. Jecht only made it a few paces further before dropping to his knees.

Braska reached towards the sky and it erupted into a sea of swirling black chaos. Everyone froze as thick black smoke bubbled and oozed from the ground around him.

Pushing back her nausea, Rikku tripped off the fence post as Anima was pulled out from the boiling earth. The aeon's great size and unholy bloom of flesh and bandages dwarfed the Buster. Her lone eye turned towards the fiend, almost lazily blasting away its remaining limb.

"Oh my," Trema said, smile dropping. "Now this is something I've never seen before…" His brows furrowed, as though he were trying to puzzle out how Braska might have obtained a Final Aeon without dying.

The Ultima Buster roared again, shattering the ground beneath it as it rushed at Anima.

Anima simply closed her petals, effortlessly brushing off the brunt of the attack. Then the petals unfolded, and Anima's single eye gleamed.

A yawning black hole opened under the Ultima Buster—the largest one Rikku had ever seen, as if even Anima was affronted by Trema's unnatural creation—and swallowed it whole.

The field went silent for a few excruciating moments, broken only by the clinking of Anima's chains as she swayed.

With a putrid splurt, the mangled remains of the fiend resurfaced. A few of the Buster's limbs twitched, even as pyreflies drifted from the bulk of its corpse. Some still-intact pieces of shell wormed towards one another, trying to reform into a new body.

Before it could regenerate, Auron and Jecht weaved nearly-drunkenly through the field on injured legs, hacking with their swords.

It was over in moments; all that remained of the battle was the scorched earth and Auron's visible injury.

Without bothering to wait for Anima to disappear, Rikku leapt over the fence, activating her dressphere. Magic surged through her as her outfit changed, but she spared little thought to the show she was offering Trema, instead reaching into her Alchemist's pouch as she ran toward the others. Braska was in Rapture and Jecht still hadn't risen from an abrupt faceplant into the ground.

Auron was listing, his face ghostly pale. His coat looked wet, and she had a brief, hysterical thought—maybe this is why they force warrior-monks to wear red—as she dug out her potions and hurled them at her boys.

Jecht and Auron grimaced under the barrage of the strongest healing agents she could find in her pouches.

" 'Ey! Blondie!" Jecht yelled, swiping the mess from his face. "Why didn'tcha come in and help us?"

Auron gripped his side as he completed a healing spell. "You could have simply handed those potions to us rather than throwing them at our hea-" He wheezed as she threw herself into his arms and ran her hands anxiously up and down his side.

She scowled when he winced, pulling his coat away to inspect his injury. "I wouldn't have to throw things at you if you'd stop bleeding to death!" She drew out another potion and dumped it over his wound, which was still slowly oozing thick, red blood.

Jecht rolled his shoulders, eyes pinched in pain. "Look, I know it's been a while, but could ya wait to have your happy reunion until we ain't in the middle of a public arena?"

"Shut it! Do I look happy?" she shrieked, still examining Auron. Until she was convinced he wasn't going to bleed out in front of her, they weren't moving.

The Buster's final hit had punctured straight through his armor; although her potions had healed the torn flesh, there was no hiding the ugly, jagged new hole in his breastplate. He seemed fine now, but—

She pulled Auron's head down towards her and planted a savage kiss on his lips.

"Mmph-" After recovering from the surprise attack, she felt him smile against her lips, before pushing her back gently. "Rikku. I'm fine." His eyes warmed as he gazed at her, then gathered her into his arms.

She rested against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Still alive. Her jumbled thoughts refused to form anything more basic than those two words, matching each thump of his heart.

"Satisfied?"

Nodding, she allowed him to pull away; instead of releasing her, he dropped his head against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "Thank you," he murmured. Then, more quietly: "I missed you."

She hiccupped, trying to calm her own racing heart, and deactivated her dressphere. "Yeah, me too," she murmured back. Then she blinked when he drew back from her attempt to nuzzle him.

"What in the- those goggles are uncomfortable," he said, looking her up and down in surprise. "Is that a new look?" He focused on her new headdress. "... isn't that Braska's?"

"Uhh… remember, I just saved your life!" she blurted. "Oh, and ixnay onyay ethay Ikkuray, eyhay? I'm going incognito here so Trema won't recognize me."

Auron paused, then ignored her attempt at pig latin with the practiced air of experience and continued frowning at her outfit. "So I see."

"Yo, B!" They both turned to see Jecht raising a hand, waving at Braska's swift approach.

"Are you injured?" Braska sent a healing spell at Jecht despite the other man's protests. He strode quickly towards Auron, worry evident on his face. "I saw that last strike the fiend made. Your side-"

"I'll live. Rikkma made sure of that." Auron squeezed her hip.

"Heads up! That old fart's comin' to join the party," Jecht interrupted, nodding at Trema as he hobbled towards their group. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hah! Eat that, you rat bastard! We did in your stupid monster after all!"

Trema waved back jovially, which looked even weirder considering that his creepy grin had returned as if it was fixed in place.

"Jecht hasn't been getting along very well with Trema," Auron explained.

"Really? Trema just told us he wanted to turn him into his protégé."

"No way, man." Jecht spat. "That old geezer is seriously messed up! He's got a mouth fouler than anything I ever heard in the Abe's locker rooms!"

Coming from Jecht, that was saying something.

"Every time we got beat down, that bastard had some smug little answer for us." Jecht raised his voice, tone annoyed and impossible to ignore. "Well, look who's crawlin' back now, bitch! Yeah, that's right! We got us some aeon power!"

Some of the tension on Braska's face eased away, and the smile Rikku caught him directing towards Jecht was full of gratitude. It would've been easy to stop thinking about it there, but she found herself wondering if Jecht's loud response to Trema was as clueless as she'd initially assumed. If there was one thing Auron had drilled into all of them over the course of the Pilgrimage, it was to "Maintain situational awareness during a battle," something that hadn't come very easily to either her or Jecht at first. But after the uncharacteristically antagonistic and attention-seeking performance he was giving... How much, if any, of Braska and Trema's argument on the sidelines did Jecht see while fighting against such a powerful fiend?

"Technically, we always had aeon power." Auron's dry response jolted her out of her thoughts; she sighed as he adjusted his tattered coat to cover his armor.

"Shh! Don't shoot one into our own goal!" Jecht stage-whispered.

Trema finally reached them, clapping slowly. "You've made your point, summoner," he said by way of greeting, eyeing the destruction of his field. "Strange, though. That's an aeon I've never yet encountered. Where did you obtain it?"

Rikku froze and Auron went tense a moment later. Trema with his disturbing power fetish didn't need to know anything about Anima.

Luckily, Braska seemed to have taken her caution to heart. Either that or he was still holding a grudge from their earlier confrontation; his relaxed expression shifted to something more guarded. "Perhaps there is more to summoners than meets the eye," he replied evenly.

Auron tensed further, shoulders squared as he untangled himself from her and placed himself at Braska's side. "Is there a problem here?"

Trema continued to regard Braska with some hostility, despite his smile widening. "Of course not, sonny! You're a couple of good boys." He was using the same patronizing tone that he addressed his fiendish creations with, and Auron stiffened. "I just wanted to see if your master had any other new tricks hidden up his sleeve."

Rikku winced. There was no mistaking the mocking lilt to his words.

"Guardians are not a summoner's dogs," Auron ground out, his eyes narrowing.

"Watch your tongue, good sir," Braska added with a tone so frosty it could have frozen lava.

"Oh, suck it up, ya old bastard," Jecht said, crossing his arms and mirroring Auron near Braska. "Somebody beat your punk ass for once, so now it's our turn to gloat! You can just stand there and eat it."

"Jecht!" Rikku hissed, feeling her blood pressure spike. Rusty gearbuckets! Are we actually going to get into a fight with Trema right now? "Could you maybe play nice?"

"Playing nice, my ass. I'll do that when he stops treating us like trash," Jecht replied with a shrug, shouldering his blade and marching towards the exit. He paused at Trema's side, using his greater height to loom, then grinned. "For now, we earned this." Then he leaned forward, stuck out his tongue and pulled one eyelid down. "In your face!"

To her surprise, Trema burst out into a loud laugh, his frosty smile melting into something more genuine. "You've got guts, boy. I like you." He gave Braska another assessing glance, clasping his hands behind his back. "I suppose there must be something to you after all, if someone like him is so loyal. You and your fellows can go if you wish. Consider this last battle on the house, since you beat my child, fair and square."

"Cheapskate," Rikku muttered. Technically, he was supposed to give out prizes for beating his nightmare creations, not rebates.

"Thank you for allowing us to train here," Auron said judiciously after a long, stilted pause that said more about their true feelings than words ever could. "It's time for us to take our leave."

"It's a pity, though," Trema said querulously to Braska, ignoring Auron. "Your Guardians would have continued to grow under my tutelage. Who knows what heights they might have reached?"

Braska clasped his hands together and tilted his head. "They will still grow under mine."

"So you say," Trema said in a sing-song voice.

"You have our thanks." Braska valiantly ignored the old man's jibe. "I do hope you will reconsider your practice of desecrating the souls of the dead here, however. I would be loathe to have to pay you another visit in the future."

Well, that was pretty direct, even for Braska.

"You have some guts too, summoner." Trema snorted; it seemed Braska's threat was the first good impression he'd made on the old man. "Tell you what. Come back to the office with me and I'll let you have a little something for proving me wrong." Turning away, he began his slow shuffle back towards the arena's headquarters. "Your boys deserve that much. They did you proud."

Rikku smirked. At least Braska's backbone finally convinced Trema to cough up their arena rewards. Considering the atmosphere between the two men, it was akin to squeezing blood out of a stone.

"Thank you." Braska trailed after the old man with Auron close by his side.

"You should be thankful, if you're smart enough," Trema groused loudly enough for Braska to hear.

Sighing, Rikku jogged to catch up and linked her hand with Auron's. She gave it a quick squeeze, hoping he didn't notice her nervous sweating.

Auron smiled distractedly at her, but his hawk-like gaze stayed on Braska and Trema; he was just as worried as she was in his own way, it seemed. His hand jerked against hers. "Braska! A word."

"What is it, my friend?" Braska asked, his tone decidedly warmer than the one he used to address Trema.

"I should warn you… Trema's office…" Auron trailed off.

Rikku jumped, nails digging into the top of Auron's hand. Of course! She skipped to Braska's side, dragging Auron with her as she lowered her voice. "What he's saying is that Trema's totally gonna try to freak you out. I know you don't like the way he abuses fiends, but he... well… the door to his place is kinda…"

"He keeps a gigantic wyrm in some kind of stasis as a doorframe," Auron concluded. "You'll need to step on it to enter his lair."

Braska frowned.

"He enchanted it to squawk every time you do, too," she added.

Auron smiled. "I will fondly remember Jecht's initial reaction for many years to come." The smile disappeared. "If you don't want to go down in the annals of history being compared to Jecht, try not to react when you pass it."

Braska paled, although whether from the potential comparison or from the knowledge of what awaited him, she wasn't certain. "I'll… keep that in mind."

Breathing in, Braska squared his shoulders and marched stoically towards Trema's office. He didn't even spare a glance at the gigantic lizard that began to shift as he approached, though he did duck when its erratically-waving tail came a touch too close to his head.

Auron leaned in, releasing her hand. "I'm going after him," he said. "I don't trust Trema, nor this open hostility he shares with Braska." He jogged forward, then paused and turned back. "Don't do anything foolish."

Her mouth dropped open. "Hey! Rude!"

"And remove those goggles for a moment," he added. "I want to see your eyes."

Her indignation was quickly replaced by a pleased flush. She tore the goggles off.

Auron tilted his head, then gave her a small but heartfelt smile. "Much better." He turned and hurried after Braska, pausing only to allow Jecht—who was shouldering his pack through the narrow door frame—to exit.

The decorative wyrm squawked, and Jecht looked down and showed the trapped fiend his middle finger. "I hate that thing," he grumbled as he passed her and continued toward the canyon's exit. "Come on."

She scrambled after him as they made their way down the arena's narrow path towards the exit to the Calm Lands. "Hey!" Rikku huffed. "So, how's it going? It's so nice to see you too, Jecht!" She picked up her pace. "What's the big idea?"

"Man!" Jecht finally burst out, dropping his pack and leaning on his knees. "Sorry Blondie, but I was dyin' to get outta that hellhole! 'S a good thing Auron took point protectin' Braska, 'cause if I had to spend another minute around that slimeball, I dunno what I woulda done." He straightened and gave her a bear hug.

She gave him a few cursory pats. "Good to see you, too—"

"It's good to be around someone who ain't lost their freakin' mind!"

She knocked his arms off with a scowl. "Hey! Auron's sane!"

"He ain't sane," Jecht corrected, leaning over to pick up his things. "That stiff actually liked gettin' his ass beat. Said it was good trainin'." He shook his head. "Trainin' his White Magic, if ya ask me. We got our asses handed to us so many times back there, I'm surprised we still got cheeks."

"Huh. Is that why you weren't panicking when he was, you know, bleeding like a stuck pig during the fight?" She directed Jecht towards the mountainside where she'd parked the Marauder, which was still out of sight.

"First off," Jecht said loftily as they walked, "If I ever let Auron know I worried during a battle, he'd kick my ass, and I've gotta take care of my own butt first or the whole thing just falls apart."

It sounded like he was trying to quote some lesson he'd learned, but she was pretty sure that wasn't the way Auron had phrased it.

"Second of all, Trema had us covered. That old dog might look like a pushover, but he is one messed up guy. I think he can do everything. Includin' emergency resuscitations." Jecht shuddered. "Creeped the fuck outta me, with those smiles and all the squintin'. He kept on lookin' at me like he knew somethin'."

"Like… he could tell you were different?"

Jecht paused, then gave her an uneasy nod. "Auron kept sayin' it was all in my head, but Trema... he took a shine to me." He shuddered, then tapped his temple. "That old geezer ain't right up there. I spent half my time wonderin' if he was gonna drag me away in the middle of the night and use me as one of his experiments."

He's probably closer to the truth that he'd want to know.

Jecht continued to speak rapidly, as if he'd been holding it in and a dam had burst. "And speakin' of the fiends… did you see that thing we fought? Holy shit, Blondie, everything here looks like that! He's got nothin' but nightmare fuel down in them underground pens!" His breathing picked up and his eyes widened, adding to the wild look he was beginning to sport.

"Woah, calm down!" she said, ushering Jecht to a stop. "You're safe now, right?"

"Safe? Sure." Jecht laughed bitterly. "I ain't stupid, Rikku. He was showin' us all them things for a reason, right? Whatever Sin's got waitin' for us is worse, ain't it."

She twitched, unable to deny it, and instead pushed him back to a walk, taking the lead. "Well, at least you learned something, right? You're gonna have to tell me all about what you did with your sword at some point! Later, though," she added hastily. "First, your pal Rikku has something that's guaranteed to make you feel better!"

"Ain't nothin' that could make me feel better other than a long bath and a memory wipe."

"You can get the bath on Gagazet. They've got hot springs," she singsonged. "But I wouldn't recommend the memory wipe. What if you forget why you hated this place and came back one day?"

"Hell to the no!" he said as he rounded the corner of the jagged mountain and the Marauder came into view. He dropped his pack and whipped out his sword, dropping into a battle crouch faster than she could blink. "Get back, Blondie!"

"Wait!" She grabbed onto his sword arm. "That's the surprise! Don't attack my baby!"

Jecht stopped in his tracks; he'd been dragging her along as he'd moved to attack, despite her dangling attempts to halt his progress. "What the hell is that thing?" Then, as he lowered his sword, he squinted. "It ain't got no head!"

"Everyone's a critic." Releasing him, she rolled her eyes. "I call her the Marauder! Braska and I fought her down and I reprogrammed her to be our ride." Preening, she strutted out in front of the machina and hauled herself up onto it. "Isn't this great?"

"Her? It's a machina, ain't it? Why're ya callin' it a she?"

"I reclaimed her, fair and square, I get to name her what I want. And besides, she can pound anything Trema might decide to send out after us, so don't worry. You're in good mechanical hands!" Fiddling with the controls, she dipped the Marauder into a victory pose—one massive arm raised to the sky, the other angled behind its missing head.

Jecht rubbed his chin. "Y'know, it ain't so bad, when you put it like that. I like her style." Then, with a grin, he mirrored the Marauder's pose.

Auron and Braska chose that moment to round the mountain.

"But why a flower—Braska! Take cover!" Auron shouted as he shoved Braska back, swiftly taking a defensive posture.

"Now, Auron—" Braska tried.

"Hey, Aurie!" Rikku said, waving sheepishly. It was a pet name she'd tried on him a few times in private, but even their most vigorous encounters together in the Calm Lands had never managed to sell him on it. Hopefully it would shock him out of doing any permanent damage to her Marauder. The delighted snort she heard coming from Jecht was a little worrisome, though.

Auron did a double-take and frowned, hand loosening from its sudden grip on his sword's hilt. "Rikku, what is- and why is Jecht- no, never mind," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I see you and Braska have been busy."

Jecht came out of his pose and waved. "Yo, Aurie!" Rikku made the Marauder copy his movements.

"I told you never to call me that again," Auron grunted to her, leveling both of them with a Look Mark III.

"Come down from there," Braska ordered with a small grin. "Trema gifted us with a most interesting prize."

"Gotcha!" she said, jumping off of the machina and gathering around Braska with the others.

"You gotta be kidding me," Jecht said. "Another girly artifact?"

"Don't knock it," she said, pushing past him to stare at the ornate metal circlet sitting in Braska's hands. It was a work of art; silver and gold filigree decorated the entire length of the crown, forming intricate, swirling floral patterns.

"Is this the treasure we were seeking?"

"It has to be," Braska said, stroking the crown carefully. "It feels very similar to the scepter that Belgemine gave us. I believe this must be one of the keys to Remiem Temple."

"You believe right," she said, straightening. "Now that you have both, you can finally face her again."

"Remiem shall be our next stop then," Braska said, packing the crown away.

Nodding, she skipped back to reclaim control over her machina.

" 'ey, anyplace that ain't here is fine with me," Jecht grumbled. "I'm half expectin' that old geezer to come back out and chase us down, ya know?"

"He wasn't that much of a fan of yours," Auron said sourly. "I'm surprised you didn't sign a blitzball for him."

"Bein' a Superstar ain't always what it's cracked up to be," Jecht answered seriously. "Now let's mosey! C'mon, c'mon!"

Braska glanced back towards the canyon, the corners of his mouth twisting downward in distaste. "I am fully on board with this plan." He moved to the Marauder, gathered his robes, and climbed back onto his seat.

Auron shrugged, then nodded. "As you say. This was a good learning experience, but I, too, am ready to move on." Then he looked up at the Marauder. "So, we're riding that? Why does it lack a head?"

She pouted. "It was a design decision, okay! Now are you gonna get up here or what?"

"Hnn," Auron said, climbing and then settling next to her. He wrapped one arm around her waist. "You'll need to tell me how you managed this one. Although somehow, I'm not surprised."

"This has gotta be the strangest lookin' car ever," Jecht said as he pulled himself easily onto the machina's shoulder and seated himself next to Braska. "Gotta say, Team BARJ knows how to travel in style, though."

"You betcha!" With a giggle, Rikku set the machina in motion. It took a lumbering step forward and Jecht let out a loud whoop that startled Braska.

"Remiem Temple, here we come!"

A/N: "Ixnay onyay ethay Ikkuray, eyhay" is "Nix on the Rikku, hey" according to Dr. Google. The previous chapter has finally been beta-read and edited properly, so if you've forgotten what happened in the last chapter, now's a good time to go and re-read it. ;) Thank you for reading and your reviews and comments keep me going. Also a huge thank you to my beta Ciesste for being able to pick this up again after half a year as if no time had passed. Wouldn't be the same without you!