Path of a Summoner

Chia slowly spun around in the cockpit of the Hyacinth while she thought about everything that had been relayed to her. 

The sun was rising higher in the sky as it neared midday. When everyone returned to tell her the news the night before, she had already turned in, and it was decided that it was for the best. The original plan had been to spend the night in Besaid anyway, so it only made sense. The best course of action would be to get some rest before heading to their next destination.

Chia finally stopped turning, then scuttled back around so that she was facing them once again. She drummed her fingers on the armrest of her seat. “Okay, so I have no idea what the terrain is like in Zanarkand. I’m not sure how close I’ll be able to take you to the temple there. I’ve heard a lot of it is open sea, but it’s right past the mountains, right?”

“What I’ve seen in my dreams is an island in the middle of the sea… but I don’t know anything about what the real Zanarkand is like,” admitted Wren. “The only people who would know that are the summoners who made it to the end of the pilgrimage. I guess Lady Yuna would know.”

Chia made a face at that, and Wren guessed that her reaction was because she didn’t trust the information based on a dream. She could hardly fault her for that. “As long as it’s better than Djose, where I can’t get into the town because it’s carved out of the cliffs, I should be able to get you pretty close. We’ll see when we get there.”

The trip from one side of the world to the other would take a couple of days, but it was suggested that the company stop in the Calm Lands, to investigate this missing temple. This turned out to be a much more agreeable rest stop than Zanarkand, because apparently Chia knew exactly where it was rumored to be.

“I’ve heard from the people at the Gold Saucer that there’s some kind of holy site nearby in the mountains, but no one knows where exactly,” she said, pointing out the window as they approached. “There’s lots of open space here, so I bring the ship over on test flights a lot.”

“Are you sure you don’t bring it over here so you can go to the park?” asked Merris, ribbing her.

“Uhh, sure, I do that too,” she said, snorting. “The entire park is built around the old Travel Agency. There’s usually no rooms open because a lot of people from outside Bevelle stay there when they visit, but it’s a great place to refuel.”

“Anyway, there’s a few people, the old owners from when the Gold Saucer was still two separate businesses, who know a thing or two about it. We might be able to find it from the air, and then you guys can get there on chocobo-back,” she added.

The Hyacinth landed outside of the fairgrounds, and Chia was quick to shoo everyone from the ship, telling them to meet up later (much later) and to wait around at the Travel Agency if she wasn’t there when they got back. This did little to reassure them, but they parted ways anyway, Chia running off to enjoy the festivities, and them finding themselves in the company of four chocobos once again. 

They did ask questions of the fair’s staff, trying to find any information they could, but there were few answers to be given. It really wouldn’t be much of a secret temple if just anyone knew about it.

“I’ll have to rely on my senses,” said Wren, sighing. “We know it will be towards the mountains, but beyond that… I wish Yuna could have given me more clear directions.”

“I’ll try to help a little,” said Twill. “If there is an entrance to the Farplane at this temple as well, I’ll find it.”

Together, they made their way through difficult terrain, circling the mountains that towered over the fairgrounds, then following their senses to the temple. It was well hidden by rocky terrain and many layers of ancient foliage growing around it’s spiraling foundation. The vines covered the path and the outside of the temple, which was crumbling, but it shared the same basic structure of the familiar temples closer to civilization. 

Wren felt nervous, approaching the temple. Its many spires towered over the group like ornately-dressed stone figures. Its aura imposed a great deal of pressure on her, to the point that it was almost suffocating as she reached its entrance. 

“I’m not ready for this,” she said, shaking her head.

“What do you mean? We’re already here,” said Merris. “We can’t just turn back.”

“I know, it’s just… if I’m getting a bad vibe from this place, Zanarkand is going to be a million times worse,” she said, rubbing her cheek. They were climbing the long ramp from the foundation to the great doors of the temple, and she was feeling jittery. “But maybe it’s just that this place feels empty. No one has been here in years even though it’s right outside a popular attraction during the off season for blitzball.”

“It’s alright,” said Tana, patting her shoulder just a little. “Once we get out of here, if we get to Zanarkand, you’ll have more of those pyreflies than him. We’re going to have everything we need to beat him already.”

That did put her fears a little at ease, making her think that her anxiety might have been self-imposed. “That’s true… I just hope I’ll be ready then.” 

Unfortunately, the intimidating feeling didn’t go away as they stood in the high, arched doorway, and got even worse as the door was pried open, with much more ease than anticipated.

Mobius was already inside. 

He was standing in the back of the room, in front of a small door the size of a cupboard, studying the structure as if he himself had not been there for very long. He had been using the soft blue glow of his trident to see, but once the light from outside spilled into the room, he turned to face them.

“There are statues here honoring the high summoners, even though this place has been abandoned for nearly four hundred years. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?” he asked.

Wren didn’t care about whatever he was saying, readying herself for conflict. She held her staff in front of her, waving it in the grand gesture Yuna had shown her, attempting one more time to call forth her Aeon.

“It’s because Bevelle has tried to reestablish this place to the public in the recent past, but ultimately decided it took away too much attention from their capital,” he continued. “Apart from that, nature itself seemed to be at odds with the decision. They came here, fixed what they could, installed these statues… They had plans to renovate the outside as well, but you’ve seen the same thing they saw when they came back to work each day. Every day, the temple was as overgrown as before they cleared away the vines, it happened overnight each time.”

“At least, that’s what the rumors are, in the circles of Bevelle’s higher echelons,” he said, smiling softly. 

“Why are you talking to me?” asked Wren, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not here to make friends with you. I’m here to collect the pyreflies and stop you from summoning Sin.”

Mobius still didn’t move, despite the four fully armed people in front of him, each in position and ready to fight. 

“I don’t need to fight you,” he said, shaking his head. “But it seems you’ve picked up something interesting since the last time we met. Are you trying to summon? Where did you get an Aeon, exactly?”

Wren bit her tongue, her expression fierce as she stood her ground. 

“I haven’t taken the pyreflies from here yet, in case you were wondering. If you wanted, you could walk right in and take them from me. There is no Cloister of Trials here. Just an empty hole, missing its Fayth.” He gestured to the door behind him, as if inviting her in.

“If that’s true, why would you let her take them?” asked Tana, waving her sword at him. “How do we know you won’t just push her into the Farplane, the second she tries to get to them?”

He turned his eyes to her, composing himself, but only barely. “I already know she can find her way back out. Trying to trap her down there wouldn’t hold her, and besides that, it wouldn’t benefit either of us. The most it would do is inconvenience you. Right now I need her at her strongest.”

Wren started to ask what he meant, but he stepped forward before she could speak. 

“You lack guidance,” said Mobius, focusing on Wren alone once more. “I can teach you how to summon your Aeon.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded, her mouth pressed into a doubtful line. “What do you mean, ‘you can teach me?’ Why should I listen to you?”

“As I said, I don’t need to fight you,” he said, shaking his head, his long, dark hair bobbing somehow gracefully with the motion. “And you need to learn, don’t you? I am a former summoner of Bevelle; I learned from trained masters how to make use of an Aeon myself. There are no teachers left, so I will show you. Perhaps then you can one day pass on your skills as well.”

The implication that she would even need to teach others put a tremendous weight on her chest. He fully expected to succeed. And he expected her to be an accomplice to his crimes when she failed.

“She doesn’t need lessons from you ,” hissed Tana. “And she won’t need to teach anyone. We don’t need summoners anymore--all of that is in the past.”

“I don’t expect you to understand me,” said Mobius, lifting his eyes to meet hers. “But Spira has lost its way. Difficult as it may be to believe, the former leader of New Yevon, Trema, once thought that the only way for its people to return to a normal life was to remove all traces of our history. I spent a great deal of time helping him erase it myself.”

“But we can’t afford that,” he continued. “The records are gone, but you can’t erase a culture created on a stable cycle. Sin rises, the summoners train to defeat Sin, many lose their nerves or their lives, and then the cycle begins again once a summoner manages to defeat Sin, ending their life despite their success. Except for Yuna. Spira’s cycle of death is a constant, and our ephemeral culture was built upon that notion--it can’t be allowed to end.”

Wren shook her head, her hands trembling. She didn’t want to speak to tell him he was wrong. Where could she even start? He should know better than that, without having to be told. How could she teach him that ending lives was a bad thing, if he didn’t understand that already?

But she did need a teacher. Badly. Yuna’s help had given her a clue, but she felt she wasn’t grasping something with her approach.

“...If you want to teach me, you can tell me what you know now,” said Wren, almost too softly to hear. “I won’t come any closer. But I won’t let you leave with the pyreflies either.”

Mobius tilted his head towards her again, considering her response to his offer. His eyes looked empty, she realized, and they had ever since she met him. He was in a lot of pain, but that didn’t excuse him for what he was doing.

“Consider them a gift,” he said, not moving as her friends looked at her incredulously. “If you see the sense in hearing me out, I will let you have them without any trouble.”

Wren stayed silent. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, and she turned to look at Twill’s expression, hoping to find comfort in their serene gaze. 

Twill pursed their lips for a moment, then gave a small nod. “I’m right here with you.”

She nodded in return as the others murmured in begrudging agreement, then looked back to Mobius. She showed him her staff, holding it in both hands carefully. 

He stepped closer, hesitantly, raising his hands in submission so that the three people behind Wren wouldn’t attack him the moment he stood beside her. He extended one hand out to touch the middle stretch of the staff, inspecting it. “This must conduct your magic very well. The crystal reminds me of formations found in Macalania. You had this when we first met, didn’t you?”

Wren’s lips remained in a tight line, uncomfortable. “It was a gift, from Twill.”

“I bet you hardly need it anymore,” he commented, glancing only briefly at the Guado as he drew back his hand. “But for summoning… I would definitely recommend having a conduit. Your friend has both good sense and taste.”

She didn’t want to admit that the rate at which her powers were growing alarmed her. If it was the fault of the pyreflies, if that was what was making her stronger, then where did her own abilities end? If it wasn’t for Mobius, she wouldn’t need to hone her abilities at all, but she hated wondering what she would be without them.

“For my advice… I suspect everyone’s approach is a little bit different. I myself learned from someone with particularly rigid discipline, so his way of instruction is all I really know,” said Mobius, thinking, distant. 

Wren’s mind briefly flickered to the man she had seen in Amalthea’s memories, the cruel instructor. 

He returned to her again, continuing. “But if permission to use the Aeon has already been granted, you should have no trouble calling its power forth.”

As she held the staff upright again, she couldn’t help but wince, forced to reflect on how much trouble she was having. “Should I try again?”

Mobius nodded firmly. “Absolutely. My own training was frankly worthless, but the ability to apply what you’ve learned is more valuable than any advice I could give you.”

Desperate to learn, that was all the confirmation Wren needed. She took a step back, breathing in through her mouth, and out through her nose as she started to concentrate.

“Imagine that your Aeon is already here beside you,” he instructed, his voice serene as ever. “Feel its presence within you, and allow it to make itself known. Let it take a form at your own pace.”

Wren knew she should have ignored his offer, and though his voice made her stomach twist itself in knots, his words incited something in her. She and Amalthea didn’t quite see eye to eye on how to handle Mobius, but they were both working together now regardless. It was a partnership that both of them could only benefit from. As she dwelled on these feelings, something was finally taking form.

Just like before, a faint glow started to appear, and it seemed like a draft had been let in from outside that tousled her hair and clothes, chilling her skin. The form was solidifying much more than the last time she tried, and now at last there was a translucent, but discernible figure in front of her.

A woman taller than even Twill stood before her, brandishing dual swords in both hands. Her skin was a dusty cerulean, and her three eyes were all blank, emitting a golden light. Thick navy hair curled wildly around four twisted horns and down her back, and in the absence of being fully formed, it almost seemed to fade into the long-draping dress that wrapped around her frame. Wrapped across her lower back and arms was an intricately-woven scarf nearly twice as long as she was, shimmering like the sea.

Mobius could only gape for a few moments, his eyes haunted with recognition. “Amalthea…! My Amalthea!”

It was the first time Wren had ever heard him raise his voice, a fact that prevented her from celebrating, or doing anything else, to stare in awe at what was happening between them now.

He didn’t say anything else as Amalthea’s Aeon moved, honing in with hateful eyes on him. His own eyes were filled with a warmth Wren had never seen, even in Amalthea’s memories of him. He almost looked proud, but not of himself.

“You did this to me!” spoke Amalthea, her voice crackling like a recording from an ancient sphere. The Aeon’s long ears flattened against her head as she stanced herself, both etherial swords drawn. “Don’t you dare act like you can feel regret for what you’ve done!”

Despite her flowing tunic dress, her movements were swift and precise, almost like a dance. 

At once, Wren realized what was about to happen. She held out her staff again, waving it wildly through the air as she tried to dismiss the Aeon. 

Just as a seemingly supernatural wind caressed Mobius’ hair, Wren managed to banish her back within her, falling to the floor with relief when he was still standing.

Mobius hadn’t flinched even a little, but all of his muscles seemed to relax at once, and he stepped forward from having his back directly against the wall of the temple.

He walked towards Wren and offered his hand to help her to her feet. “It was only an image, this time. She couldn’t have harmed me.” He almost seemed to be talking to himself.

Her friends were already standing beside her, and she refused his hand as she stood up on shaky legs, gripping Tana’s arm. 

“That was good,” he said to her, putting his hand back at his side. “I think the only thing holding you back, at this point, is stress. You seemed very tense. If you can overcome that, you should be able to form a complete Aeon.”

“You’re the reason she’s so stressed out!” said Tana, refusing to let go of Wren as she supported her. “If you suddenly feel like being helpful, then get lost.”

Mobius took her cue, and started past them in polite cooperation.

Standing in the doorway, casting a mile long shadow towards the group, he paused for only a moment. “As I promised. The Chamber of the Fayth awaits, and I will meet you in Zanarkand to join the souls we’ve amassed together.”

Light from outside filled the room once more as he disappeared. 

Wren got her footing, but as she stood on her own she was still trembling. She wasn’t prepared for what could have happened, even if Mobius was in no real danger. 

“Why are they making me do this?” she asked, permitting herself to place some of the blame on Amalthea as well. “I know what he did to her, but I don’t want to be responsible for this. I wish she didn’t need me.”

She didn’t want to say it, but the alternative was still worse. She shouldn’t have let him get away, she should have at least allowed her friends to go after him, even if she couldn’t attack with only a ghost of an Aeon. 

“This is only a difficult decision because taking a life doesn’t come naturally,” said Twill, softly. “It’s not bad to be afraid of it, even in his case. If you could distance yourself enough to take a life without any hesitation at all, you would be just like him. I promise, it’s a good thing that you aren’t.”

“I know,” sighed Wren, finally releasing the tension in her shoulders. “But still, next time, I’ll have to make up my mind a lot quicker.”

She started towards the door, looking outside at the overgrown path leading away from the temple. Mobius was already out of sight, only the four chocobos they’d brought with them and occasionally rustling foliage the only sign of life. She didn’t have time to think about that, instead too focused on his parting words. 

“All I know is that we’re going to get to Zanarkand before him. If he doesn’t need me for the summoning, then we’ll have to wait for him to get there, to stop him,” she said, frowning. 

“We have to find Chia,” she said, looking back at them with a weary expression. "After I come back with the pyreflies, we have to refuel and get to Zanarkand as quickly as possible. “

There was no other choice.