#gardenoftruth

@gardenoftruth

Matron...where once she'd been a source of comfort during his tragic formative years, her presence now gave way to a maelstrom of feelings in him: confusion, anger, sadness, happiness. But, most of all, he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt so deep that it created a well inside him that overflowed and seemingly went down and down forever into the farthest corners of the planet.

His actions had caused so many people so much pain, and only she knew about his secret. Squall hadn't dared tell another soul how, after Ultimecia's defeat, he'd travelled back in time during Time Compression and triggered the idea for SeeD and Garden in Edea's head. The implications of his actions hadn't been a thought at the time, maybe because part of him wondered whether the event happened at all. But once he'd physically recovered from the ordeal of Time Compression, it sank in heavily.

Sure, in the end, they'd won. It was for the greater good, he recognised that. Many more people would've died without the aid of B-Garden. But the people he cared about suffered the most, Ellone, Seifer, Rinoa, and, of course, Edea. Now, he reaped the rewards of their suffering. People called him a hero; they looked at him and spoke to him with such reverence that it choked him. No one knew what really happened. What would Seifer or Rinoa think if they knew? He imagined neither would want to look at him again, and he wouldn't blame them for it.

He didn't, couldn't look, at the only mother he'd ever know as she spoke, nearly begged. He hovered by the front door of the place once called home. In the background, he could hear the wind and the sea that lapped on the sandy shores. Sounds which felt all too familiar now that he remembered them. They contained a second well, one full of memories, some still hazy, but they were coming back and weighing down further on his conscience when he pondered on them.

"I don't know why I came here..." Squall admitted quietly, his voice carried back to her on those same winds from forever ago. "No, that's not true...I meant to say sorry to you, for putting all that pain on your shoulders. For leading Ultimecia to your doorstep. I...I didn't know." Deep down he knew that Edea taking on Ultimecia's powers was a better outcome than Quistis or Selphie. Yet, that still didn't make it any easier to face up to. His actions alone, for that greater good, had great consequences, and he couldn't run away from them forever as much as part of him wanted to. "I hope you can find some peace now Matron, truly."

their brief respite comes with squaring his shoulders against the rock laden surface at his back, easing against it while y’shtola sets about her work, insistent they set him straight before advancing on ahead. the residual of their battle looks worse than it feels and actually is, but somehow she'd been able to discern a certain extent of it through his leather jacket. even though he had said nothing to the effect of injury, nor had he given any inclination of being bothered by it, knowing well what he could and couldn’t manage.  she somehow knew, anyways. so his jacket is half-removed, exposing the arm she deems fit to mend. the grey-blue of his gaze observes the glowing aura of her healing magic that douses the deep ache of muscle and sinew, removing the visual evidence of bloody scrapes and bruises collected from more than just their most recent bout. her brand of magic removes any trace of his afflictions, but leaves behind all of the faint marks of long-since healed scars that existed before ever being summoned here. he accommodates where applicable and does his best to keep the muscle loose so that it doesn’t seize up with soreness later. keeping his fingers from curling into the fist they instinctively want to assume is a mental task, too.

up this close and without much else to do, it’s hard to not take in some of the more defining features that set y'shtola apart: the ears atop her head, the markings that reach inward of her expression—then her eyes, which haven’t once met his directly throughout this entire ordeal. subsequently, he looks back out at the mostly barren expanse stretched ahead of them before he can be perceived with intention he doesn’t actually carry ... the matter decidedly none of his business.

"Oh.." Rikku didn't move yet though, watching the back of Tidus's head. People weren't glass and she couldn't see through him to try to get a good read on his expression. "Is that a .. you want some air to clear your head alone? Or you came out here to clear your head as why you're out there but you don't mind if you're not alone?"

Every moment could change in a second. One second you could almost forget ( almost ) the impending future - confronting Sin, and Yuna's fate if she became a High Summoner - and the next, all that reality hit like a wave. Rikku felt like an executioner, even if she wanted nothing more than to scoop Yuna up and lock her away until someone else defeated Sin. Anyone but her.