This is a piece of fan-fiction, comprised of 12 chapters, but you need not understand all the intricacies of its fictional world to enjoy. While there are no sexual bits in this chapter, don't fret. There will be.
Frozen Lake, Macalania
It's finally happening,
Auron thought, as the first of many Pyreflies drifted from his body. They wafted without direction into the fog, glints of color peeking through the gloom. Soon, more appeared, shooting an abortive leak, like bubbles blown forcibly from a wand. He didn't fight it. There was nothing left to fight for.
But before that, when he had something to fight for, when the Pyreflies were still locked inside him, there was only the vibrating hum of energy in Auron's head, the tedious drone of machina turned on high. The Pyreflies were anxious now that he was back in Spira. Peeking tentatively with his one good eye, Auron braced for the portal's searing light, near white and intense as a nova, which he was still seeing on the back of his only functional retina.
But there was only the snow, freshly fallen and perfectly smooth.
Shaking the flakes off his shoulder, he shoved to his feet and took a moment to stretch his back, still out of sorts from the portal trip. His black katana was half buried in the snow nearby and the leather ito cord wrapped around the grip was dark from melted snow. He picked it up, brushed the ice off and hefted it onto his shoulder, gazing across the snowy landscape through the sepia filter of his sunglasses to search for the rest of his lost items.
When he spotted a tab of yellow in the snow, he plotted a path and ambled over, new snow creaking under the pressure of his boots. Lying prone in the snow, Raine was camouflaged in her sheath wedding dress, fashioned simply from satins and silks. Only her golden hair stood out against the pale scenery, the frozen dreads fanning over the side of her face to her jaw. Auron stopped by one of her heels sticking out of the snow, a glittery silver pump that had slid off when she was thrown from the portal, and threw down his sword down next to it.
Auron shrugged his arm free of his cloak sleeve, releasing the front buckle on his red cloak, so he could take it off. Underneath, he wore a black leather cuirass with the traditional high-collar of Bevellian monks, but the collar had been unclasped, spread down flat against his shoulders, permitting the cold fingers of winter to curl around his throat. Popping his collar back up, he deftly secured the leather snaps.
Waking, Raine gasped from the cold. On the other side of the portal, the weather had been a breezy 82 degrees, but as she kneeled up, shaking slush off her bluish fingers, her teeth began to chatter. The front of her sleeveless, V-neck wedding dress was wet and clung to her body, leaving almost nothing for the imagination, and Auron handed her his cloak.
She wrestled into it immediately, saying, "At least we weren't separated."
"We have a lot of work to do," he said, squatting down to loosen the laces of his boots.
He couldn't tell if she was nodding or shivering and as she pulled the lavender moon-lily adornment out of her icy hair, Auron caught the glint of her wedding band on her hand. She glanced at the flower vacantly before tossing it into the snow.
"Where do we start?" she asked.
"I need to prepare the Summoner."
Auron hopped out of his boots with only his old socks to protect his feet from the elements and grabbed Raine's outstretched hand to help her to her feet. Crouching, he let her brace herself against his shoulder as he assisted her bare feet into his large boots, and she cinched the laces so they wouldn't slip off.
"Who's the Summoner?"
Auron straightened, sliding his katana out of the snow, adjusting its weight on his shoulder. "You are."
Rin's Travel Agency, Macalania
After an hour's trachle across the snow fields, Auron and Raine arrived at the Travel Agency in Macalania. Ornamented with colorful, arched promotional signs written in Al Behd, the inn was embedded in the foot of an icy crag, with nothing but a narrow, slick road between the main entrance and a dark frozen gorge. In the chasm, the wuthering of wind through the hollows and cavities of uncharted caves was interrupted only by the occasional shatter of brittle ice under his boots on Raine's feet, as she shuffled on the icy road next to him. Fortunately, their silence was an easy one.
The walkway up to the door had been recently shoveled and salted, tiny alkaline pellets cutting into the cold soles of his feet, and Auron halted at the door. Raine lingered behind, tugging his cloak tighter around her as she gazed across the indigo rift. Glaring yellow off the distant mirror of dense frozen lake, the mid-morning sun was brilliant and clear against the pale sky and it seemed to hypnotize her. Gently clearing his throat, Auron broke her focus, but her eyes continued to meander around the landscape until she craned her neck to read the Travel Agency signs, glossing over the writing she didn't understand.
Raine's nose scrunched. "The air smells bad here."
"You'll get used to it," Auron said, although she never would.
Auron didn't know Raine's first day in Spira would also be her last. Turns out, he wasn't the Guardian the legends made him out to be.
A bell jangled above Auron's head as he ushered her inside by the small of her back. Ten years ago, he would have never touched her like that, but lately he did it without thinking, casual slips that generally went by unnoticed. Just inside, Raine stopped short to examine the store front and Auron had to sidle around her to get the door shut. It charmed him the way she timidly soaked in her new surroundings.
At the back of the sphere-shaped apothecary, a horseshoe counter acted as a barrier to the more expensive displays of phoenix downs and ethers and Rin was perched up on a stool, a feather in his hand as he updated his ledger. Tearing his concentration from his work, Rin removed the bifocals balanced on the end of his tan nose to better see his new patrons and his eyes widened slightly.
"Sir Auron," he greeted in a light Al Behd accent, tossing his reading glasses to the open accounting books. Even in his frigid Macalania branch, Rin was dressed for the desert. His midriff jacket was as yellow as his shoulder-length hair and he wore it open to reveal his brown chest and red choker with a dangling round charm. The old sand goggles propped on his forehead were scratched from years of exposure to Bikinel sandstorms. Sliding his attention to Raine, who was clomping warily around the white hide of a polar bear rug, Rin couldn't seem to decide if he wanted to talk or smile, his open mouth contorted, amused.
Auron's socks left sloppy wet prints on the stone tile mosaic floor as he headed for the strip of carpeting leading up to the register. "Room key."
Blinking, Rin shook his head to come to his senses, twisting to the peg board behind him, taking one of the last remaining keys. Auron came forward to collect the key, but Rin took the liberty of coming around the counter.
"When you specified a room with one bed, naturally I assumed you would be alone," Rin said to Auron, extending his hand fondly to Raine with a warm smile. "I don't believe we've met."
Raine's eyes flicked to Auron uncertainly and he offered a single reassuring nod from behind his collar. The only danger Rin posed was overcharging her for a room.
"I'm Raine," she said and her posture straightened, untangling her hand from the long, cumbersome sleeve of Auron's cloak so they could shake.
"Raine. What a pretty name," Rin said softly, and immediately turned her hand to his lips and planted an innocent kiss across her knuckles.
Auron rolled his eye, shifting in his sodden socks. He felt shorter without his boots and he didn't like it.
Raine blushed, but took the reception in stride. "I'm a Summoner."
"Apprentice Summoner," Auron interjected, prudently supervising their meeting. She hadn't attained an aeon yet, but he didn't want to shake her confidence. Just hearing her declare it made him feel light and heavy at the same time.
"Interesting," Rin said, the slightest wrinkle appearing over his eyebrows, a micro-emotion of suspicion. "Here I thought I knew all the Summoners."