Amal raised an eyebrow at Ethan's desire for her to try saving his food from Harris.  If the Blitzer set her mind-or her desire-to something, the mage considered there was probably very little in this world to keep her from it.  Fortunately, for as boisterous and, at times, egotistical as the other woman could come off, Amal knew there was empathy in her heart.  She wouldn't take something so important as a proper meal from the priest, especially after everything they'd been through together that day.<br/><br/>Watching with a heavy heart as the priest began to raise a storm of pyerflies into the darkening sky, she thought of what a stark contrast it was something so beautiful could be so heartbreaking at the same time.  When she closed her eyes, she let the sound of waves and palm fronds in the breeze drown out the muffled sobs of Besaid's few survivors.  If she'd been the sort to pray, Amal knew she would have been unable to find the words she'd raise to Yevon… for some situations in life, there were no words.<br/><br/>Sensing motion beside her, she turned to find Chiron offering her a tray of food, which she quietly placed aside.  In case Harris wasn't feeling inclined to share her second portion with Ethan when he returned, Amal would give the priest hers.  Something about everything she'd witnessed had left her without much of an appetite.<br/><br/>Reaching for the grimoire strapped to her waist, the mage opened the book to her unfinished portrait of Harris and shook her head.  Paging a few places forward, she settled on a blank page and began illustrating what she could remember of Ethan's sending.  It wasn't the first she'd ever witnessed, unfortunately, and she knew it wouldn't be the last.  For Amal, the only way she knew to cope with… feelings she was too afraid to acknowledge was to put them down on paper.<br/><br/>Her pencil moved quickly at first, finding the basic outlines of both priest and corpses without demanding too much of the woman's concentration.  As she began working in the first hints of shading and those haunting, terrible pyerflies, the priest returned to their small circle.  Looking over the top of her journal, Amal noticed Harris hand Ethan his food and she quietly moved her own tray backwards to hide it away from any member of her group who might look to point out she hadn't eaten.<br/><br/>With half an ear, she listened to Chiron pledge his sword to Ethan's pilgrimage.  Feeling her heart start hammering a rapid pace in her chest when Harris added, "And you've my lance, Ethan.  For whatever it's worth to you," Amal ran her thumb over the largest orb she'd captured in her hasty sketch, beginning the slow process of softening the lines.  She took a deep breath, silently pleading this conversation wouldn't shift to her.<br/><br/>"What about you, Amal?" Harris barked across the circle.<br/><br/>The movement of her pencil halted abruptly and she left the point to rest gently against the page.  Admittedly, the mage had not been adding anything of consequence to her illustration for a while but she supposed she'd seemed occupied enough with her task.  Slowly she looked up at the woman seated across from her and asked innocently, "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"<br/><br/>Slapping her forehead with her open hand, the Blitzer slouched forward and made an irritated groan before she looked back at the mage.  Frowning, she exaggerated how slowly she spoke like the action could help Amal understand her better, "Are you going to become one of Ethan's Guardians or not?"<br/><br/>'Harris is always so direct,' Amal sighed to herself.<br/><br/>Her eyes drifted back to the book she had propped up against her knees but as soon as the other woman noticed her intent, she interrupted, "Hey, attention here, please.  We're having a serious conversation.  You can't just ignore the question."<br/><br/>"I'm considering my response," Amal replied cooly, letting her eyes fall back to the page where her illustration was nearly complete.  As she began to consider all of her possible responses, no option to delay or worm around the question seemed available to her.  Harris had been so direct in the way she'd asked it felt intentional.  Amal felt trapped, cornered into being a coward to deny them by returning home or having her mind made up by the social pressure alone.  It wasn't fair what Harris had done… but it wasn't fair for her to dodge the question, either.<br/><br/>Thinking back to the way she'd felt when she'd seen Sin attack the island earlier that day, Amal considered how many citizens of Spira took no action at all.  There were thousands who would never consider laying down their lives to protect a Summoner, much less become one; could she be faulted for being one of them?<br/><br/>Was she one of them?<br/><br/>Thinking about her brother, Amal knew immediately and with certainty he would never have pledged his life to become a Summoner.  Agustin had spent every breath of his existence since Sin had taken their parents doing anything he could to avoid ever seeing the creature again.  He was selfish.  He was a coward.  And he was her brother.  How much of his character was woven into the fibers of her own being?<br/><br/>Was she like Agustin?  Or was she entirely the opposite?<br/><br/>The decision to travel with Ethan and protect him on his pilgrimage wasn't to be taken lightly and she wouldn't do him the dishonor of answering on a whim.<br/><br/>For Chiron the decision had been easy, it had made sense, and it had been so entirely, utterly reflective of his character.  He was a warrior before anything else; he'd already fought for so many causes that were bigger than he was.  Protecting his friend was a noble cause, perhaps the first he'd chosen for himself, and a natural next step.<br/><br/>Harris, on the other hand, was a Blitzball player who was probably no more experienced in battle than Wakka.  If she wasn't careful, she'd be making herself a liability to the two men she sought to travel with.<br/><br/>Amal wasn't inclined to make hasty decisions, especially when they carried so much weight.  Sure, she'd been moved by what she'd seen that day; Ethan's selfless decision to make himself a Summoner, the tears of those left behind in Besaid as their loved ones passed on to the Farplane… she knew something needed to be done.<br/><br/>Studying the figure of the newly born Summoner, of her friend Ethan, she'd managed to portray across the thick pages of her grimoire, she pressed her index finger over the place his heart would have been and turned to look across the circle at Harris.  She could feel the fire burning behind her eyes as she replied with conviction, "I'll answer you in the morning.  There's much more to consider than simply will I or won't I.  I need to sleep on it."<br/><br/>With that, she closed her journal with a harsh snap and hastily left the circle before any of her companions could stop her.  She was in such a rush to be away and have a moment to herself, she left her Moogle sleeping at Chiron's feet.  Hurrying towards the temple, she frowned when she heard a familiar voice call out to her, "Hey, mage!  Amal, yeah?"<br/><br/>Stopping with her right palm pressed against the heavy doorway, she softened her expression and turned around to see Wakka standing behind her.  She met him with an even stare, crossing her arms over her chest and waiting for him to speak again.<br/><br/>"About earlier, I'm sorry for, well, for leavin' you behind, yeah?" he scratched the back of his head nervously, looking at her with an anxious expression in his dark brown eyes.  When she didn't speak, he filled the silence, "I can get a little carried away sometimes."<br/><br/>"I'm sorry I couldn't keep up," she replied with a polite but curt nod of her head.<br/><br/>As she turned around towards the temple again, he grabbed her wrist to stop her, adding, “Hey, don't say that.  I shoulda been more careful.”<br/><br/>Pulling her wrist out of his grasp, she narrowed her eyes and stared at him.  When he seemed to have felt enough of the perceived tension her irritation with him had caused, he looked away nervously.<br/><br/>She’d never met such an irritating stranger.<br/><br/>He'd really sought her out to revisit the subject of her inadequacy again?  How long had he waited from… somewhere around the ruined village to have these words with her?  Was he trying to get under her skin?<br/><br/>If a complete stranger could find her weak, maybe she wasn't cut out to be a Guardian after all.  Deciding she'd tortured this man enough with her silence and hard stare, Amal turned back to the temple.<br/><br/>She had her palm pressed against the heavy doorway when Wakka said, “He’s lucky to have you as a Guardian, you know.  I don't doubt you woulda stood there alone and faced down that Sinspawn to buy your Summoner as much time as he needed in da temple to pray.”<br/><br/>Amal grit her teeth, feeling an uncomfortable lump rise to her throat.<br/><br/>“You’re da first to start the journey, yeah?” Wakka pointed out, she could hear him shift his weight to his opposite foot.  “Yevon protect you and keep you safe.”<br/><br/>When Amal turned to glance at him over her shoulder, Wakka had already turned around to walk away.  She could hear the sound of Chappu’s lecture over the crashing of the waves on the beach below, though she couldn't make out the exact words.  Shaking her head in disbelief, Amal entered the temple.<br/><br/>She'd traveled halfway across Spira to see this place.  Yevon be damned if she was going to leave before seeing the inside.