Path of a Summoner

The rain first started as a fine mist, at a distance, then came a light drizzle. The sound of rolling thunder could be heard faintly even from Guadosalam, but here it was always present. Though the group had left Guadosalam feeling lighter, the rain did little to improve their moods further.

“There’s no way around the Thunder Plains, or else we wouldn’t come this way,” said Tana, disgruntled over her ruined hair.

“But Mobius will have to come this way too,” offered Wren, laughing at the image of the man soaked to the bone through his many layers of clothing, and his bare midriff. She doubted even the airship could be flown here, with the sky in such a state. It would be too dangerous. She laughed a little at that as well, somewhat morbidly.

The towers that protected travelers from the violent flashes of lightning were in view, but some distance off. The lush wooded area had become barren, rocky, and drowned. The mud squelched unsatisfyingly under their feet as they wandered the landscape, huddled together to keep from losing the group.

The thunder meant it was rare to see a chocobo as well. There had been sightings of wild chocobos on the plains before, but the birds were too jittery to be tamed, and were usually lost somewhere between the Calmlands and the Highroad. Traveling on foot was the only way to get through the watery desert, and naturally the only place to stop and rest was the Travel Agency halfway through.

The heaviness of the rain varied between times of the year, but it had become so thick it was difficult to see very far ahead of them. Wren was grateful for the markers that helped them stay on the road, or else there would be no other indicator of the well traveled path, since any footprints or wear would be washed away immediately by the storm. With the many fiends on the trail, it was too easy to get turned around.

Twill had been right to try to show Wren the basic lightning spells they knew, because her fire would have been understandably useless in the rain. The fiends in the area were a mixed bag of clashing elements, both those that thrived off of electricity, and the mucky environment created by the waters itself. Wren picked the spells up more quickly than she thought she would, and the two mages were driving the monsters away from the group with ease.

They had traveled in silence until the Agency was in sight.

Merris peered at something he could only barely make out, his whole face scrunched up as he tried to see through the rain.

“I think I see someone lying on the ground,” he said, raising his voice so he was audible.

Without any further explanation, he sprinted ahead of them, splashing through the mud to reach a crumpled heap Wren could now make out as well. She dashed after him.

There appeared to be an old man lying in the mud. He was lucky that he had landed so that his face was propped up by his arm, a mere few centimeters from the water, but he appeared to be breathing.

Merris shook him gently, but there was no response.

“We have to get him inside,” he said.

He turned the man over, then scooped him up in his arms. The mud flecked against his skin and clothes now didn't bother him as he made his way to the Travel Agency, shielding the old man from the rain as best as he could. The other two put the pieces together and followed behind them, eager to get out of the rain as well.

It was dangerous to stray very far from the path when the storms got heavy like this, as they created uneven ground and pitfalls. The water would sometimes appear more shallow than it really was, and it was unadvised at any time for anyone to travel alone. What had the old man been doing? He was close to the Agency, but hadn't been facing it at all, and wasn't far off the trail. Perhaps he had slipped, or tripped over hidden debris in the mud… As long as he was breathing, they had to help him.

When they entered the Agency, the Al Bhed woman behind the counter shouted at first, alarmed by the collapsed man in Merris’ strong arms. She jumped over the counter to meet them, then directed the group to a back room that seemed to be dedicated to first aid, in case of emergencies like this.

There was a cot in the room for them to stretch the old man out on, which they did so at once.

Wren could see his chest was still rising and falling, if shallowly. Was he coming to?

Twill sat beside the cot, making a strange face. Their hands were outstretched, as if preparing to heal the man, but they seemed uncertain about something.

“This man is Unsent,” they said, frowning.

“Wait… really?” asked Tana, blinking as she looked at him. “He's still breathing… Do Unsent need to breathe?”

“I don't know, I've only met one once before,” said Twill, shaking their head. “We were right to be concerned for his safety either way, but I don't think it's very likely he was in any real danger.”

“He didn't feel any different from a regular person,” said Merris, in awe. “How can you tell?”

“It's, um… Hard to explain,” said Twill. “I don't think Unsent are really very different from the living, except that they don't exactly feel right. It's almost like they have this… smell? The Farplane has a unique feeling to it. I sense it on Wren, but this man exudes it. If we had left him lying where he was, or we reached him too late… I bet he would have found a way back from the Farplane again. Something must be keeping him from moving on, for him to be here in the first place.”

“That's kind of scary…” said Wren, though she somehow didn't feel surprised. “Should we do something? You can perform a sending, can't you, Twill?”

Twill thought for a moment. “I don't know if it's right to send someone who doesn't want to be sent. He isn't like the souls we send before their negative feelings can create fiends. I would like to at least wait until he wakes up to understand the situation.”

“What? Isn't the point of the sending to prevent people from ending up like him?” asked Tana. “Things from the Farplane don't belong in Spira. Just like the living don't belong in the Farplane. It will do things to your mind…”

“I would normally agree with you, but… to be honest, I'm sort of curious. The only Unsent I've met before was Seymour Guado, and I can imagine the reasons for which a corrupt person in a high position of power might stay behind,” said Twill. “But this man, I don't recognize. I don't think he's anyone so famous, or infamous, as the case might be. I would like to talk to him first.”

“Then you'll send him?” asked Tana.

“I might,” they said.

The man started to stir.

Wren felt a chill, almost, though she didn't feel threatened. It was strange knowing this man was not among the living… but not surprising.

He opened his eyes, which darted around the room, as if confused. He was squinting, Wren realized, and she wondered if his eyes weren't very good. Could a ghost need glasses? She guessed he wasn't really a ghost.

“Where am I?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

He had kind eyes that were almost vacant, and he wore long robes that were no doubt going to chill him to the bone if they weren't removed quickly. His hair was quite thin on top, and short, but his beard was quite long. By his face Wren could tell he was very, very old.

“It's the Travel Agency, in the Thunder Plains,” she said.

He made a small sound as if lamenting something. “I suppose I must have collapsed again?” he asked.

Merris and Tana shared an expression that seemed like they wanted to ask “again?” but neither of them wanted to say it out loud.

Twill nodded. “It seems that way. We found you and brought you here. I was going to try to heal you, if you were injured, but given your current status I wasn't sure if I should…”

“My what…?” started the old man, confused for a moment. He cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. I sometimes forget that my body is slightly different from most denizens of the living world. It must sound unsettling for me to say it that way, but when you've walked the planet for as long as I have, the difference is difficult to notice after some time. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“You didn't do anything wrong,” assured Twill. “I would rather have realized it now than left you behind. I don't make it a habit to condemn people to death.”

“Even if their day came so long ago,” offered the old man, chuckling warmly. “What are your names? I'm quite forgetful these days, but I make it a point to remember every face I've ever known, especially when I owe them quite a debt.”

“I'm Tana, and this is my brother, Merris, who carried you here.” Tana seemed wary still, but she was willing to be polite. He did seem pretty harmless.

“My name is Twill.”

“I'm Wren.”

Her voice was almost timid, but it was only because of what Twill said. The man was definitely Unsent, and somehow she felt it was well. Maybe Tana could feel it too; it certainly explained her nervousness.

The man smiled from where he was lying on the cot. He seemed to be about to say something, but he paused after a moment, then looked between them.

“This is a bit embarrassing to ask, but could one of you possibly help me sit up? These clothes are quite heavy when wet, and I must admit I still feel a bit weak,” he said.

Wren moved forward, helping him as best as she could while he tried to support himself. He patted her hand on his shoulder once he was upright, smiling, and at once seemed reminded of something.

“My name is Maechen,” he said finally, nodding proudly. “I'm a wandering scholar, as it were. An amateur collector of stories, theses, and factoids.”

“A scholar?” asked Wren, blinking. “That's perfect, actually. Maybe you can help me with my research?”

“What research?” asked Maechen. He reached to the top of his head for something that didn't appear to be there, to his dissatisfaction. Had he been wearing a hat before?

“Yes, you see, I'm making a sphere movie that I want to put together to showcase some of Spira's history. It's about the lives of summoners as they traveled across Spira on their pilgrimage. You must know a lot about that, right?”

Maechen beamed suddenly, as if he had been waiting for such an opportunity his whole long life. “Of course! I have seen countless summoners to their various destinations. Of course, you must know most pilgrimages end prematurely, for one reason or another, but it isn't all bad. I have made it a point to shake hands with every journeying party over the years as I've met them… I even had the privilege of meeting a couple of our high summoners, including Lady Yuna.”

Tana looked down at her wet clothes, then at Wren, and smiled politely to Maechen. She apologized, but she really wanted to get out of those clothes, and they still hadn't yet checked into the Agency. She excused herself from the room. Merris followed after her. Wren couldn't blame them for not being interested in the subject of conversation, but she was enthralled. Twill seemed to be taking it all in slowly as well.

“You met Lady Yuna?” asked Wren, blinking. “Who else? Another high summoner? Was it Lord Braska?”

“No, no. Well, yes, actually, I did meet young Braska, as well as his two accompanying guardians,” said Maechen, thinking. “But my memory goes far beyond that. I believe I had the honor of meeting Lord Gandof, long, long ago…”

“The very first High Summoner? That was over four hundred years ago,” said Twill, frowning. “Wasn't it?”

“Um, I think so,” said Wren. “It took almost half a millennium before anyone defeated Sin after Lady Yunalesca, so… If he was the first after her, that is a very long time.”

Maechen nodded once again. “It was more than a lifetime ago. I consider myself very lucky to have witnessed so much of Spira's incredible history.”

“I'm sorry if this is rude, but… how long have you been Unsent?” asked Twill.

“Ah…” said Maechen, frowning. “You know? I can't recall. It's been far longer than that. I mentioned my memory is quite spotty. A side effect for remaining in this world for so long, perhaps. I don't… recall how it is that I died. It's just as likely that I passed in my sleep as in my travels. I can't seem to remember which came first… But I can tell you that I am originally from Zanarkand, if that gives you any idea of the frame of time in which I lived.”

Wren's breath hitched. The city lights flashed through her head as if spanning it from one side to the other in only a matter of seconds. “Zanarkand?”

“Yes, indeed. The ancient civilization of the most powerful summoners in all of history… though I am not one myself. My interest in the practice was purely academic. I didn't really have a knack for it.”

“Still, that’s incredible,” she said. “You have a firsthand account of… pretty much all of recorded history!”

“Well, thank you. I am rather proud of my collection myself, but as I mentioned, my memory isn’t what it once was…” he said, humming to himself. “I don’t know how useful I could truly be to you.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Maybe I could go over some questions with you before we leave,” said Wren. “I’ll try to keep them short.”

He stroked his beard for a moment, thinking. “Yes, perhaps if you had any specific questions, it could jog my memory. As far as my wellbeing goes, I am quite well. It’s just that I’ve misplaced my glasses, and my hat. I must have lost them in the rain…”

“I can find them for you,” said Twill, getting to their feet. “If you had them on when you were outside, I’ll look around the place where we found you.”

“Thank you,” said Maechen, nodding his head appreciatively. “You’ve done more than enough for me already. I am truly grateful to you all.”

Twill bowed their head, then turned to head back outside to retrieve Maechen’s belongings.

Wren watched as the other left her alone with the old scholar. Tana actually poked her head in the doorway to check on them, then nodded when Twill passed her, turning away as well. It seemed they were going to go search together. Probably for the better. Wren knew Twill could take care of themself, but it was certainly safer not to be alone.

“And you, young lady…” said Maechen, pulling Wren out of her nervous thoughts. “You have something special too, don’t you? I only realized a moment ago… but you feel familiar, somehow.”

“Familiar…?” asked Wren, blinking. “I don’t know… Have we met before?”

“Perhaps. I’ve been nearly everywhere at some point or another,” he said, thinking. “Perhaps, when you were younger?”

“Um… I did move to Luca from Bevelle when I was about ten or eleven. My mother was a recorder for the warrior monks at Operation Mi’ihen,” she said. But something was bothering her too.

“Oh… A sphere recorder in Bevelle?” asked Maechen. “There must be many… but your mother… what was her name?”

“Oma.”

“Oma… Yes, that sounds right. I recall a young mother and her little daughter, clinging to her leg when a stranger approached. This was on the road from Djose… There was no town then, so it must have been… at least six years ago,” he said, thinking.

“Really?” asked Wren, giving an embarrassed laugh. “I’m afraid I don’t remember, I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite alright. I only spoke to your mother for a moment, she asked me how long it was until the Travel Agency,” he hummed. “But you said she was at Mi’ihen, did you…?”

Wren’s expression fell, and she nodded, shrugging a little. “Yeah, she was. Um… it’s alright. It’s just me now.”

“I should apologize,” he said. “I didn’t realize.”

She shrugged again. Then she paused, thinking of something else, anything else. There was something that had been on her mind, she realized, as she stared at the dull colored fabric of the cot Maechen was seated on.

“Actually, I have a question,” she said as she looked up. “It’s not really about my research, though… I, um… Something strange happened to me recently. You must know a lot about Pyreflies, right?”

“I suppose I should,” he answered, nodding. “It’s not as though life’s secrets have been opened to me, through death, but I know enough. What is it?”

“Well…” Wren started, glancing to the side. She started to recount her story to him, as well as Tana, and the state they had found her in. She left out the details of Mobius’ involvement, apart from the strange dreams he seemed to share with her. She also neglected to mention the apparent nature of the Pyreflies, and the reason they were looking for more of them in addition to completing her film.

Maechen sat back for a moment while he thought.

His pensive silence made her feel uncomfortable, and she started to stare around the corners of the room to avoid it. She counted the empty cots in the room, of which there were three. There were no windows, as it was already grey outside and they probably feared the gloom outside would only depress their guests, particularly if they were unwell. Instead, the room was brightly colored, and on the walls were decorated plates depicting floral designs. It was tactically comforting.

“These dreams… The city,” he said finally. “I think you must already know where it is. It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, so I can’t say I blame you for seeking a different answer.”

“Yeah, I think so,” admitted Wren. “You think it’s Zanarkand, too?”

“Based on your description… No other such city exists in Spira anymore,” he said, nodding. “If it were Luca, or Bevelle, you lived in both places for a short time, I would think you would be able to identify them if it was either one. But there aren’t any other cities that could possibly fit that description. I can see it so clearly in my mind… I don’t have any doubt that you’re witnessing someone else’s memories.”

“Memories of a whole city?” she asked.

“Well, you did say it was a dream,” said Maechen, waving his hand. “I don’t think anyone who has ever lived could have a perfect memory, but if someone was familiar enough, it would be easy to create such a replica in a vision. And anywhere they might not be so familiar with, you might be filling in with your own imagination.”

“Maybe so,” she agreed. Maybe…

“Or, perhaps it is that these Pyreflies, if there are really a great deal of them similar to each other, the memories belong to more than one person,” he said, thinking. “I suppose that would make sense, given the erratic nature of their souls.”

“If that’s true, that’s pretty scary,” said Wren, frowning. “I feel like I should feel lucky to be able to see the ancient city of pre-war Zanarkand with my own eyes, but… One person’s memories are bad enough.”

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” he said, looking apologetic. “I’m only offering suggestions based on my own experience, but… Perhaps opening up to your friends might help, in this situation. There will be time to figure out what it is that’s happening to you.”

Wren nodded in agreement. “Yeah… And there’s Tana, but to be honest? I don’t… feel the same pull from her as I do from Mobius. Does she really have the same thing as me?”

“You might ask your Guado friend. It’s easy for Unsent to identify each other, but I’m afraid I don’t know very much about your situation. They, however, seem to be able to identify your Pyreflies as well, even if they don’t realize that that is what they sense.”

She paused her nodding for a moment to think. “And… that spirit I mentioned, in my dream while I was in the Farplane? What do you make of that?”

Maechen inhaled deeply through his nose, then sighed. His eyes tilted up towards the ceiling while he thought it over. This time, his answer came a little quickly than before.

“Have you asked her yourself?” he asked.

“I haven’t… I didn’t have any strange dreams last night, so I haven’t spoken to her since Djose.”

“That’s a starting point, at least. But aside from that… You mentioned that the dreams started shortly after your incident in Kilika Port, but the spirit only appeared to you after your arrival in the Farplane. Is it, perhaps, a coincidence? Or is that the two aren’t connected at all?”

Now that she thought of it, he was right. She had assumed that the spirit was somehow the cause of her dreams, and that her appearance was related to the increasing intensity of the dreams, but that was entirely new. Was the spirit just something else she had picked up?

“Speak to her, the next time you get a chance,” said Maechen, nodding his head slowly. “I’m sure she will have more answers for you than I.”

“I will,” said Wren, frowning.

At that moment, Twill and Tana returned together, carrying Maechen’s misplaced items. Twill placed the glasses and his hat beside him on the cot.

“It took a few minutes to track down your hat,” they said. “I hope it isn’t ruined.”

“Truthfully, I’ve had it for a long time,” he said, placing his scraggly old hand on the hat. “I doubt it will be any worse for the wear. But thank you for finding it for me. I am truly grateful for everything you all have done.”

“I should be thanking you,” said Wren, bowing her head. “You gave me a lot to think about.”

“As a scholar, there is no higher praise,” he said, chuckling. “And I thank you for keeping an old man company.”

Tana looked at Wren curiously, then back at Maechen. The distrust was gone from her eyes, but she seemed skeptical. Wren would definitely have to answer for that.

The three of them said some brief wellwishing words to the old man before Tana showed them to their own room for the night. She didn’t say anything about what had happened, simply getting comfortable in the room. She set up her toolkit at the small table in the corner of the room, affixing a promised gem to one of Merris’ gauntlets.

Wren waved to get Twill’s attention, calling them over to where Tana was seated. She had some doubts about Tana’s situation, though she wasn’t at all distrustful of the woman. The strange situation with the dead city and the souls of its inhabitants wasn’t well understood by any of them, and she had many questions. She sat across from Tana at her workspace, prompting a raised eyebrow and a strange look in her bottomless eyes.

Twill stood next to the two of them at the table, tilting their head. “What is it?”

“I don’t mean to sound… strange,” started Wren. Her words were slow and thoughtful. Timid. “But I… feel like I have to be honest about something I’ve been curious about for a little while.”

“Yeah?” asked Tana, blinking. She set her jeweler’s tools down to listen. “What are you saying?”

“Okay, um… You said that you were one of the first people to explore Djose temple when the Machine Faction moved in, right? So… you have the errant Pyreflies?” She hesitated a little. “And that’s why Mobius did what he did to you?”

Tana’s eyes flashed for a moment, but she nodded. “Yeah. I have them. But I haven’t ever had any other weird symptoms, like you and him both described. As far as I know, they’ve just been leaving me alone.”

Twill tilted their head back, looking between the two of them for a moment. And then they paused. Their eyes glanced back to Wren, waiting for the reason she had called them over.

Wren nodded her head, gears slowly turning. “After we met in the Farplane, my dreams got weirder. And… I met that spirit, I mentioned, who spoke to me in my dream. And you said you’ve never felt anything like that.”

“Right,” she said, though she didn’t sound sure of what Wren was trying to ask. “I don’t mess with spirits and the Farplane. Even before I was stuck down there. I’m not really interested in the dead, especially after what a bunch of dead people have done to the world.”

“Okay, this is going to sound weird too,” said Wren, grimacing. “Um, after I was attacked, when I met Mobius again, I could feel this kind of pull towards him? Like, I can kind of feel his presence... But I don’t think it’s him that I felt, after thinking about it. I think it was the Pyreflies. And… I haven’t felt that from you, during or since we met.”

Tana drummed her fingers for a moment, frowning deeply. Did she understand? “You know what…? I know I felt the same thing from Mobius when I first met him. Kind of faint, though. But now that you mention it, I haven’t felt the same thing from you at all either. I guess it could be that the Farplane kind of… cancels its own energy out, or something? I don’t know anything about that, but I should feel it from you now.”

Wren nodded vigorously, then looked up at Twill. “Right, I thought so too! So what I wanted to ask, Twill, was do you feel the same thing coming from me as her? Does she still smell like the Farplane?”

“It’s not exactly a ‘smell,’” said Twill, shaking their head. “It’s more like a sense, like a feeling? It feels like something that’s sort of stuck to you--so it’s kind of like a smell, but it’s not the same, it doesn’t have a scent . Inside the Farplane, it’s everywhere, so it’s impossible to find its source, but outside...”

Tana waved her hand, huffing to hide a soft laugh from them. “Come on, answer the question. If this is important, I want to know too.”

Twill tilted their head to the side, leaning towards Wren, then the other direction, leaning towards Tana. They pursed their lip into a line.

“...No, I don’t sense the Farplane on you.”