Andrew Slayn
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Chapter 3: Two Summoners
🕑 Added 2025-04-27 10:00:34 +0000 UTCEvening had settled over Besaid Village, transforming it into a landscape of firelight and shadows. Torches lined the central gathering area, where villagers had assembled to celebrate their summoner's departure. Children darted between adults, playing games and sampling food from communal platters. Musicians played traditional Besaid melodies on drums and flutes, creating a festive atmosphere despite the bittersweet nature of the occasion.
Andrew sat slightly apart from the crowd, watching the proceedings with keen interest. Everything was familiar yet different—like revisiting a childhood home after years away. The colors were more vibrant, the scents more pungent, the sounds more layered than the game had ever conveyed.
"It's really something, ya?" Wakka said, dropping down beside him and offering a wooden cup filled with a sweet-smelling beverage.
Andrew accepted it gratefully. "It's beautiful. I didn't expect..." He trailed off, unsure how to explain that he hadn't expected this world to feel so real.
"Village doesn't celebrate like this often," Wakka explained, misinterpreting Andrew's awe. "Only when a summoner completes their training. Been ten years since the last one."
Across the gathering, Andrew spotted Yuna surrounded by admirers—children tugging at her sleeves, elders offering blessings, young men watching her with barely concealed admiration. She handled it all with a gentle grace that seemed both natural and practiced.
His attention shifted to Tidus, who stood awkwardly at the edge of Yuna's circle, clearly wanting to approach her again but unsure how. Their first meeting had likely already happened—the one from the game where she thanked him for his help in the temple.
"So what's your story, brudda?" Wakka asked, interrupting Andrew's observations. "Where'd you train to become a summoner? Don't think I've seen your fighting style before."
Before Andrew could formulate a response, a cold voice cut in from behind them.
"I was wondering the same thing."
They turned to find a woman dressed in an elaborate black dress adorned with belts and fur trim. Her dark hair was styled in a complex arrangement, with braids hanging down her back, and her crimson eyes regarded Andrew with undisguised suspicion.
"Lulu," Wakka greeted her, his tone immediately shifting to something more cautious. "This is Andrew. He's, uh, also a summoner now."
"So I've heard," Lulu said, her gaze never leaving Andrew's face. "Rather unusual, wouldn't you say? No training, no pilgrimage preparation, not even a guardian. Yet somehow, the fayth accepted you."
Andrew met her scrutiny steadily. He'd always liked Lulu's character—her protectiveness, her sharp intelligence, her no-nonsense attitude. Experiencing it firsthand was intimidating but also oddly reassuring. Some things in Spira were exactly as he'd expected.
"I can't explain it," he said truthfully. "It surprised me as much as anyone."
"Did it?" Lulu's tone made it clear she didn't believe him. "Where are you from, Andrew? You dress strangely, carry unusual weapons, and appear on the same day another outsider washes ashore claiming to be from Zanarkand." She crossed her arms. "Quite the coincidence."
Wakka shifted uncomfortably. "Come on, Lu, give the guy a break. The fayth chose him—that's good enough for me."
"The fayth's wisdom is not in question," Lulu replied coolly. "His story is."
Andrew understood her suspicion. With her history of losing summoners and loved ones, Lulu had every reason to be wary of strangers who might pose a threat to Yuna.
"I don't blame you for being cautious," he said carefully. "In your position, I would be too."
Something flickered in Lulu's expression—surprise at his understanding, perhaps. Before she could respond, a hush fell over the gathering as Yuna approached their small group.
Seeing her up close for the first time sent a strange chill through Andrew. This was Yuna—not a collection of pixels on a screen, but a living, breathing person with hopes and dreams and a terrible fate that he intended to change.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, her voice soft yet clear, "but I wanted to meet our other summoner." Her heterochromatic eyes—one blue, one green—studied Andrew with open curiosity rather than Lulu's suspicion.
Andrew rose to his feet and bowed slightly, mimicking the prayer gesture he'd seen villagers use. "Lady Yuna. It's an honor."
A hint of a smile touched Yuna's lips. "Please, just Yuna is fine. I'm told you received the blessing of the fayth today as well."
"Yes, though I suspect my experience was different from yours."
"Oh?" Interest sparked in her eyes. "How so?"
Before Andrew could answer, an elder called out from the crowd, "Let us see the aeons! Both summoners, showing Besaid's power before one leaves us!"
The suggestion was quickly taken up by others, and soon the crowd was buzzing with excitement at the prospect of witnessing not one but two summoners demonstrate their abilities.
Yuna looked to Andrew. "Would you mind? It's tradition before a summoner departs."
Andrew hesitated. His method of summoning was untested, and he knew it would appear strange compared to Yuna's traditional approach. But refusing would only heighten suspicions.
"Of course," he said. "Though I should warn you, my technique may be... unconventional."
Lulu narrowed her eyes at this admission, but Yuna only looked more intrigued.
"You should go first," Andrew offered. "This is your celebration, after all."
Yuna nodded and moved to the center of the gathering space. The villagers formed a wide circle around her, faces expectant. Andrew watched closely, comparing what he was about to witness with what he remembered from the game.
Yuna raised her staff, twirling it in a precise, practiced motion. Her body moved through a series of graceful positions—part dance, part prayer. There was nothing hurried about her movements; each gesture flowed seamlessly into the next with a reverence that spoke of years of training.
The air around her began to shimmer as she completed her ritual, and a glowing glyph appeared on the ground beneath her feet. She knelt briefly, touching her staff to the symbol, then rose and stepped back.
The sky above them rippled, and a piercing cry echoed across the village. Valefor descended, massive wings spread wide, her avian form exactly as Andrew remembered from the game—but so much more magnificent in reality. The aeon landed gracefully before Yuna, lowering her head in a gesture of respect.
Yuna approached her aeon without fear, reaching up to gently stroke the side of Valefor's face. There was affection in the gesture, but also a clear hierarchy—summoner and servant, not equals.
The villagers applauded, though many had likely seen this before. When Yuna completed a brief demonstration of Valefor's abilities—a controlled Energy Ray that lit up the night sky—and dismissed the aeon, she turned to Andrew with an encouraging smile.
"Your turn," she said.
Andrew stepped forward, acutely aware of all eyes upon him. The space that had just held Yuna's aeon now awaited his demonstration. He took a deep breath, centering himself as he reached over his shoulders to draw his twin swords.
Lulu's voice carried clearly from the side: "Summoners use staves, not weapons."
"Lu," Wakka hissed, but the damage was done. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Andrew didn't allow himself to be distracted. He closed his eyes, focusing on the warm presence he had felt since leaving the Chamber of the Fayth—that sense of Valefor's essence lingering at the edge of his consciousness.
Valefor, he called mentally, not with command but with invitation. Will you join me?
Rather than executing a series of ritualistic movements, Andrew simply held his blades crossed before him, channeling his energy and concentration through them. The metal began to glow with a faint amber light—the same color that had infused his Resonant Arc during his trial.
He felt rather than saw the change in the air around him—a shift in pressure, a warming of the atmosphere. When he opened his eyes, he saw that a summoning glyph had indeed formed beneath his feet, but it was different from Yuna's—the symbols more angular, with patterns that resembled the etchings on his blades.
The connection snapped into place with an almost audible click, and Andrew felt a surge of energy flow through him. Instead of looking to the sky as everyone expected, he brought his swords down in a swift, precise arc, the glowing metal leaving trails of light in their wake.
Where the arcs crossed, reality seemed to fold inward. Rather than descending from above, Valefor emerged directly from this rift, as if stepping through a doorway between worlds. She appeared with wings already spread, eyes gleaming with intelligence.
The gasps from the villagers confirmed how unusual this method was. Even Yuna's composed expression gave way to astonishment.
Most telling was what happened next. When Valefor fully materialized, she didn't immediately bow her head to Andrew as she had to Yuna. Instead, their eyes met in mutual acknowledgment—equals entering a partnership rather than master and servant. Only after this moment of recognition did the aeon lower her head slightly, a gesture Andrew returned with a respectful nod.
"They acknowledge each other," someone whispered in the crowd. "Have you ever seen an aeon behave this way?"
Andrew approached Valefor, placing a hand on her neck in a familiar gesture that seemed to surprise the onlookers further. The aeon responded by nudging him gently with her beak.
"Would you mind showing them what you can do?" Andrew asked aloud, his voice carrying in the sudden silence.
Valefor's eyes gleamed with what Andrew could have sworn was amusement. She turned her gaze skyward and released a controlled burst of energy—similar to what she had demonstrated for Yuna, but with a distinctive amber tinge that matched the glow that had surrounded Andrew's swords.
When the demonstration was complete, Andrew didn't dismiss Valefor as Yuna had done. Instead, he simply nodded to the aeon, who spread her wings and dissolved not into pyreflies, but into motes of light that briefly swirled around Andrew before fading.
The silence that followed was profound. Andrew sheathed his swords, suddenly self-conscious about the spectacle he'd created.
Lulu was the first to speak, her voice tight with suspicion. "What manner of summoning was that?"
Before Andrew could answer, Yuna stepped forward, her expression not wary but fascinated. "It was beautiful," she said. "Different from anything I've seen, but... beautiful."
Her genuine response seemed to temper some of the unease in the crowd, though Lulu remained visibly unconvinced.
"How did you learn to summon that way?" Yuna asked.
Andrew chose his words carefully. "I didn't learn it. It just... felt right. The fayth and I have an understanding."
"An understanding," Lulu repeated skeptically. "With no training or guidance."
"The fayth provides what is needed," Andrew said, echoing the priest's earlier words. It wasn't a complete explanation, but it was the best he could offer without revealing too much.
The celebration gradually resumed, though Andrew noticed many villagers now kept a respectful—or wary—distance from him. He didn't mind; he'd expected his differences to create some separation.
What he hadn't expected was Yuna's reaction. As the evening progressed, she sought him out again, finding him at the edge of the gathering where he'd retreated to collect his thoughts.
"May I join you?" she asked, gesturing to the log where he sat.
"Of course."
She settled beside him, arranging her skirts with practiced grace. "I wanted to apologize for any discomfort earlier. Your summoning was unexpected, but that doesn't make it wrong."
"Thank you," Andrew said, genuinely touched by her open-mindedness. "I know it must seem strange."
"Strange isn't always bad," Yuna replied with a small smile. "Sometimes it's just... new."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the celebration from a distance. Andrew could see Tidus trying to learn a local dance, with Wakka laughing good-naturedly at his attempts. Lulu stood apart, her gaze frequently returning to where Andrew and Yuna sat.
"I leave tomorrow," Yuna said finally. "To begin my pilgrimage."
Andrew nodded, feeling a weight settle in his chest. In the game, this was just the beginning of her journey—a journey that eventually led to heartbreak despite the victory over Sin.
"What about you?" she asked. "Will you also undertake the pilgrimage?"
"I think I must," Andrew replied. It was the only way he could implement the changes he hoped to make. "Though I'm not sure I'll follow the traditional path."
Yuna studied him curiously. "What path will you follow then?"
"I'm still figuring that out," he admitted. "But I believe there might be... alternatives to the usual way of doing things."
Something flickered in Yuna's eyes—not suspicion, but a cautious hope. "Alternatives?" she repeated softly.
Andrew realized he needed to be careful. Revealing too much too soon could cause more harm than good. "Just different approaches to the same goal," he said vaguely. "Defeating Sin is what matters, right?"
"Of course," Yuna agreed, though something in her tone suggested she wasn't entirely convinced by his deflection. She was more perceptive than the game had sometimes portrayed her.
Before their conversation could continue, Lulu approached, her expression making it clear that she thought Yuna had spent enough time with the mysterious newcomer.
"Yuna, you should rest," she said firmly. "Tomorrow will be a long day."
Yuna rose obediently, though not without a hint of reluctance. "Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked Andrew.
"Count on it," he replied with a smile.
As Yuna walked away with Lulu, the black mage cast a final warning glance over her shoulder. The message was clear: I'm watching you.
Andrew didn't take it personally. He understood Lulu's protectiveness—and honestly, her suspicion was warranted. He was hiding things, and he did have ulterior motives, even if they were ultimately aimed at saving those she cared about.
He remained by the fire long after most villagers had retired for the night, thinking about the day ahead. The flames had died down to glowing embers, casting just enough light to illuminate the empty gathering space. The celebration had ended, leaving only scattered evidence of the festivities—forgotten cups, trampled flowers, and the lingering scent of food and incense.
"You should know that I don't trust you."
Andrew didn't startle at Lulu's voice emerging from the shadows behind him. Somehow, he'd been expecting her return. He turned to find her standing several paces away, her arms crossed, her posture rigid with restrained suspicion.
"I'd be disappointed if you did," he replied honestly. "You barely know me."
Lulu's eyes narrowed slightly, perhaps surprised by his candor. She approached slowly, the beads in her braids clicking softly with each step, and stopped on the opposite side of the dying fire. The embers cast her face in stark contrast—half illuminated, half in shadow.
"Yuna sees the best in people," she said. "It's her strength, but also her vulnerability."
"And you protect her from those who might take advantage of that," Andrew observed.
"Someone must." Her gaze was unflinching. "She has lost enough already."
Andrew nodded, understanding the layers of meaning in her words. Yuna had lost her father to the Final Summoning and her mother to Sin's attack on Bevelle. Lulu had lost her former summoner and the man she loved. Loss was woven into the fabric of their lives—into the fabric of Spira itself.
"I have no intention of causing Yuna harm," he said carefully.
"Intentions and outcomes are not always aligned." Lulu gestured toward the temple, barely visible in the darkness. "Your... performance earlier. That is not how summoning works."
"Not traditionally, no."
"There is no 'traditionally' about it," Lulu countered. "There is the way of Yevon, the way summoners have called aeons for a thousand years, and then there is whatever it is you did." She leaned forward slightly. "The fayth do not 'partner' with humans. They grant power to those who prove worthy through prayer and devotion."
Andrew met her gaze steadily. "Maybe they've been waiting for someone to ask differently."
A flash of anger crossed Lulu's face. "Do not presume to understand the fayth better than those who have devoted their lives to Yevon's teachings."
"I'm not claiming greater understanding," Andrew said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Only a different perspective."
"And what exactly is your perspective?" Lulu pressed. "Who are you, Andrew? Where did you train? What temple molded your... unique approach to the sacred arts?"
He considered how much to reveal. Complete honesty wasn't an option, but perhaps a partial truth would satisfy her enough to establish some trust.
"I come from very far away," he began slowly. "Somewhere Sin hasn't touched. My understanding of the fayth comes from... a different tradition than Yevon's."
Lulu's expression remained skeptical. "There is nowhere in Spira untouched by Sin."
"I didn't say I was from Spira."
The words hung in the air between them. Lulu's eyes widened almost imperceptibly—the first genuine surprise he'd seen break through her composed exterior.
"You expect me to believe you're from... where? The Farplane? Another world entirely?" Her tone was scathing, but there was a hint of uncertainty beneath it.
"I expect you to believe what you choose to believe," Andrew replied calmly. "But I'm telling you that I'm here to help, not harm. My methods may be different, but my goal is the same as Yuna's—to end the suffering Sin causes."
Lulu studied him for a long moment, the firelight reflecting in her crimson eyes. "If you truly wish to help, then stay away from Yuna's pilgrimage. She has trained her entire life for this journey. She doesn't need... complications."
Andrew knew he couldn't make that promise. His entire purpose in Spira was to change the outcome of Yuna's pilgrimage. But arguing now would only deepen Lulu's distrust.
"I understand your concern," he said instead. "But I think our paths are meant to cross. The fayth brought me here for a reason."
"The fayth," Lulu repeated, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "Always the fayth and their mysterious ways. Their wisdom that costs us everything we love."
For a moment, her guard dropped, and Andrew glimpsed the grief that lived beneath her stern exterior—grief for Chappu, for Lady Ginnem, for all those lost to Sin and the cycle of death that defined Spira.
"What if it didn't have to cost so much?" Andrew asked quietly.
Lulu's expression hardened again. "False hope is crueler than honest despair. Whatever you're suggesting—whatever 'alternative' you hinted at to Yuna—I advise caution. Many have thought they could change Spira's fate. All have failed."
"Perhaps they didn't have the right perspective," Andrew suggested. "Sometimes it takes an outsider to see a different path."
"Or an outsider brings chaos where there was once order," Lulu countered. She straightened, gathering her dignity around her like a cloak. "I will be watching you, Andrew. If your actions threaten Yuna's pilgrimage in any way..."
She let the threat hang unfinished, but her meaning was clear.
"I would expect nothing less," Andrew said with genuine respect.
Lulu gave him one final, measuring look before turning to leave. "Get some rest. Tomorrow comes whether we are prepared or not."
As she walked away, her silhouette gradually merging with the darkness, Andrew turned back to the embers of the fire.
"Tomorrow comes," he repeated softly to himself. "But it doesn't have to be the same tomorrow they've seen a thousand times before."
Somewhere in the depths of his consciousness, he felt a whisper of acknowledgment—from Valefor, from Bahamut, or perhaps from the dream itself. Whatever the source, it strengthened his resolve.
The spiral of death that had defined Spira for a thousand years would not claim another summoner or guardian. Not if Andrew Slayn had anything to say about it.
