Setting: FFX ending
Theme + Number: Cold Shoulder (41)
Summary: Auron's last scene from his perspective.
"It's been...long enough."
Long enough. Too long, maybe. It's easy enough to step past the bewildered blitz captain and raise a fist to thump the Ronso warrior's chest, silent thanks for an old promise kept so well. Easy to meet the gaze of a reluctant young Summoner who knows what must be done. Tidus isn't arguing either; he understands and will have to face his own fate soon. The Al Bhed girl seems shaken, but to her I was more of an obstacle than a friend.
The mage half-turns, the icy reserve I saw behind her eyes when we first met settling back into place like a woman smoothing out her skirts in the morning. Lulu knew what she was doing when she reached for a dying fire. I'll make no apologies. She makes no reproach.
Should I be afraid? Should I regret? Steps away from them, from her, help me savor my limbs' freedom as pyreflies begin to peel me away piecemeal, memory by memory. That was my first sword. This was Braska's unexpected laughter. There was my first glimpse of a drunken sod in a cell who turned out to be the best man in two worlds. That was the taste of her lips wet with tears. A few steps more. This is your world now is meant for Lulu as much as for all of them, but I can't even tell if she's heard me.
One white shoulder and the line of her back turned towards me gleam like the crescent moon in my fading sight. My spirit leaps free untethered, leaving every ache behind.
Cold silence was her forté. Others saw it as unkindness. There is no better gift, when letting go.