"How else does one train a chocobo, but to catch it first?" He snorted. "Besides, it's half for their own good. There's nasties on the Highroad who like to eat a bird if they can get one." He trailed off as she went through some kind of clearly upsetting memory and even looked away as she continued to wrestle with it. No... Amal wasn't going to come with him. She was a capable and deeply talented magician, but she hadn't signed up for a trip as harrowing as the Pilgrimage. For some reason the idea made him sad, and he realized all at once that he'd become quite fond of the little spellcaster in their brief time together.<br/><br/>Ethan looked back up when the other mage and the young woman approached. With a jolt he realized he'd almost forgotten his entire reason for even rushing as he had. The Sending. "I don't require any healing, thank you," he said quickly. Ethan stood and brushed himself off, tugging his robes and layers all back in proper order and line. "Thank you for your kindness, Yuna. And I'm sorry to have lapsed in my duties. I'll take care of it right away." He glanced at Amal and offered her another tired smile. "Try to keep Chiron and Harris from eating my share. No hard feelings if you can't... the Blitzer's like a hurricane, isn't she?"<br/><br/>He picked up his weapon, which had lay next to him as he rested, and slung it over his shoulder as he made his way from the temple's awning where they'd sat resting to the center of the town, where a large round stone sat clear and smooth. The dead had already been laid there, wrapped in sailcloth and decorated with bright blue flowers native to the island. He drew his weapon again, but kept the bladed end aimed downward. He closed his eyes and focused his energy into the sphere at the end, head bowing.<i>O restless and grieving dead, hear my voice,</i>he implored with his heart and his mind, and slowly began to move.<br/><br/><i>Release thy envy and thy pain, discard your attachment. Find peace, find contentment, and step unto the Farplane.</i>He spun the staff around his body, eyes closed, wielding it more like a net than a weapon. Glowing lines trailed behind the staff as he moved, spinning and turning in the center of the circle, at the center of the dead.<i>The dead guiding the dead. The blind leading the blind, </i>he thought briefly, but focused hard on his prayers again. Slowly at first, then more thickly, pyreflies began to rise from the dead. He spun and stepped and prayed, easing into a graceful dance amid clouds of glowing energy, the sun sinking red and deep on the horizon beyond.<br/><br/>Chiron frowned as he watched. He watched Ethan dance, he watched the survivors pray. He watched the dead rise curling and rainbow-like into the air, forming into a great pillar that soared high into the darkening sky, twisting away until it faded as they dispersed. "Harris," he said softly, frowning as he watched. "This cannot continue." He turned away, walking back to Amal with his two helpings of rations. He sat down next to her and handed one to her, a simple portion of bread, fruit, dried meat, and water in a bowl. He settled his own in his lap and looked out at the sunset, scowling against the beauty of it all.<br/><br/>He couldn't understand it. Not the Sending--he was familiar enough with the rules of this strange land to know what Ethan was doing and why. What disturbed him was the sorrow of it all. Ethan had smiled often and freely before this, his eyes graced by smile lines and his bearing easy and careless. From the moment the titan known as Sin had appeared, though, Ethan's smiles had never cross his face to his eyes. He had been full of tension, even at rest. More than that even, Amal had been full of fear, even more timid than she usually was. Spirans in general had seemed like such a friendly, warm, inviting lot--sans the priests of Bevelle, but he had been told they lodged sticks within their posteriors, which would sour anyone's temperament. But everyone on Besaid had been terrified, or angry, or both. Maybe in the wake of the attack, once life had settled, they would be more full of cheer, but somehow he doubted it.<br/><br/>Just like that he knew what he would do. Harris had explained it to the best of her ability in the food line, what it meant to be a Guardian. He had thought it over, but now? Now he knew what he had to do. Ethan returned before much longer, and Chiron looked up at him, his jaw set. "E'tan," he said quietly but firmly so the other man would meet his eye. "I will walk this road with you. As Guardian. I pledge my blade, that we might bring... the joy back." He held his gaze for another serious moment before he took hold of the chunk of bread on his tray and ripped a huge mouthful free.<br/><br/>Ethan blinked in mild surprise, but nodded. "Thank you, Chiron. I'm glad to accept you as a companion on the road ahead." He took the second tray that Harris had brought and began to eat without another word, his eyes heavy all of a sudden. He could understand why when he put some thought into it, mind churning as he nibbled at the jerky. Running, fighting, summoning, sending--he'd done more in one day than he'd done in all the years since becoming a priest. A good sleep on a proper sort of bed would do him wonders, though he feared that sort of rest would be rare and uncommon on the road ahead.