And it still feels like home..

''Sir? We have arrived at Besaid Island.''

Slowly, Garet opened his left eye and spotted the one who spoke to him. It was one of the sailors of the ship. Although he had been awake most of the trip back, he had asked to be told when the ship would arrive. The personnel of the S.S. Liki were no stranger to this request, and they kindly obliged to do just that.

''I will be departing shortly. It was an excellent voyage, I thank you and the rest of the crew and captain.''

The young man nodded with a moderate smile before leaving the seasoned veteran's room, closing the wooden door silently behind him. Garet huffed as he slowly but steadily sat up. He had been very tired after his little adventure on the premise of Bevelle. With that, and the sight of his old ways and family, he had longed to get back to the pristine beaches, the wooden houses and the kind people of Besaid Island. In this regard, Garet Arthur Markus had shown many similarities to the High Summoner Braska

Another huf and the tall swordsman was up. His sword had been resting against the back of his bed, standing tall as if guarding the elderly man. This thought brought a smile to Garet's face. Were anyone out for his life on this ship, they would not have much trouble achieving it. This world held many marvels and heroes he could not keep up with anymore. Yet it never disappointed him. His life had been a clear one, a good one, and an adventurous one. He had met many miracles, people and had seen all there was to Spira...and more beyond.

Twisting the doorknob and swinging it open, Garet stepped out of his room with his sword on his side and small belongings on his back. He had more, but had arranged that to be brought back to the goof village. A small crate holding seeds for his sowing fields, several materials to be reproduced into the well-known rugs Besaid produces, and flowers for the village girls. Besaid had a wealth of lovely flora, but these ones were not seen on the Island. Furthermore, it had come to his attention that the village's girls love creating all kinds of things with them. From flower arrangements to wreaths, they'd go all out with these lovely creations of nature.

Garet Arthur had already planned on creating a small stroke of land next to his produce to grow these flowers in. For that purpose he had also kept some flower seeds for himself, just to make sure they'd survive those energetic children.

As he stepped up one set of wooden stairs, he entered the main deck. Raising his hand to shield his eyes from the bright sun, he blinked twice and looked to view the premise of his most beloved island. He did hardly ever go to Bikanel, enjoyed the close-knit community of Kilika, but nothing could top Besaid. He almost regretted not being born here, but such thoughts were useless in every sense. As he walked down the wooden scaffolding, he noticed his crate was already underway. Very good.

Bending down, Garet removed his footwear, and tied them together to carry them next to his trusty blade. One could not enjoy the beaches with shoes on, it'd be much more of a hassle to remove all the sand while walking through the forest part. The day had not progressed much, so the sands were not too hot for his tastes just yet. Much like a child retrieving his beloved blanket, Garet reveled in the feeling of sand in between his toes and the sole of his feet. Slowly he mulled through and walked for the hardened road.

The village, his field of produce and his wooden home were waiting...in a figure of speech. He'd enjoy the campfires tonight!

A small stroll through the sands and up the forested hills towards the village. Slowly but surely, Garet made his way over to the grassy areas of the island. However, before he would go to the village, he would have to stop by his crops. It wasn't far off from here, a little sideway from the main path.

As he walked on, he felt the air cool a little. It always did here, as he passed those large waterfalls you would pass. The air would be more moist and cooler then the rest of the island. Always a pleasant surprise. Yet he could not linger for long, he'd rather do all he had planned for the day and rest from his voyage. As he passed through a small extension of the main road, he saw his fields. His produce had grown considerably. He had one of the townsmen to look after it, and so they did.

Suddenly, Arthur's eyebrows tinged and his sight focused on the middle of the field. He thought he had seen something move, if only a little. After closer inspection, he was sure he was not alone. It wasn't human, it was a fiend! One of the bird-type fiends was scouring his fields!

''Fortune is not with the fiend today..''

Slowly, trying to remain unnoticed, Garet took his crossbow from his back and carefully aimed for the fiend. After a few seconds, just to make sure he had pinpointed the small airborne enemy, he pulled the trigger and his arrow zoomed through the clear sky. With a small shriek, Garet knew he had struck his enemy, and with the dissolving of pyreflies, he knew he was safe. He placed his crossbow back on his back and walked on, after one last inspection.

Minutes later, Garet ascended the large hill overlooking the village. At the praying spire, he had the all familiar gesture of Yevon, moving his arms from wide to a small orb in front of his torso, bowing his head shortly. Although the Order of Yevon was not what it had been in the past, Garet was never one to disapprove of the hope it gave people. Had the top not betrayed it's followers, it might have still been around. Alas, if if...

Garet made his way to the village, and before he had even set his foot at the gates, was met with the children running towards him. Recognizably, some of the girls already had made several hair-ornaments with the flowers he had passed on alongside his other goods. To meet them eye to eye, the old man knelled down and prominently was hugged by some of them. They did not seem to care he was armored and caped.

''So...I assume you liked the flowers children? They look gorgeous on all of you..''

After talking to a few of the children, Garet had holstered one boy up on his shoulder, and moved towards the gates with them. Not much further, he wouldn't be able to keep the boy up that long. As he was accompanied by his own platoon of infants, some of the grown-ups took notice their local swordsman was back as well. At the gates he was greeted by the one who was looking after his crops. He seemed to be a bit nervous. Garet beat him to the punch.

''I guess we need some more anti-fiend measures on my fields? Don't worry, you did fine, the crops looks great. It will be a great feast when we harvest. I owe you much.''

Garet then proceeded to talk to almost everyone. He had brought raw materials for the Besaid rugs, some special spices and various other goods which he gladly hared with all of the villagers. Most of them noticed the old man was getting a bit tired though, walking around in that armor.

As he excuses himself to his quarters, Garet took off the protective gear and left only his Besaidian robe, a comfortable light robe which wouldn't get too warm due to the bright sun. He placed his sack on the ground, and laid down on his bed with a jug of fresh water and a leftover apple from his travels.

A long and slow sigh before he closed his eyes. Garet has had a bit too much intermissions between sleep and traveling. Were he somewhat younger, he would have been able to cope, but his body was not what it had used to be. Had he lived less fulfilling, he might also have enjoyed things more now, but this was how it was supposed to be. He had no regrets.

It did not take long or people would hear rumbling in his close proximity. He had dowsed off in the comfortable temperature and his more comfortable gear. His sword stood vigilant against his bed, and his crossbow hung on a small hook attached to the wall. He almost heard the beaches being flooded by the sea, moving back and forth. There hardly was a more soothing way to cradle someone into a sleeping state.

Before he knew it, Garet was so deep in sleep that he wouldn't recognize one from the other. His dreams were warped, and full of things he had seen along the way, real or partially real. He was sure Bevelle's vast walls did not have this omnious looking spikes....then again, he would never see his family, including his dreadful parents, walk the walls.

However, as he looked around, he saw a bridge of pyreflies. It would lead him straight to the walls, and leave him on top of them. Without a moment consideration, he could hear his footsteps clatter hollow but still, he ascended the walls with the use of pyreflies. As he watches his parents and they watched him, silence struck both. Whilst Arthur muttered half-random words, his parents seemed to be made from stone. Their eerie eyes looked at him, cold, diminishing, calculative. Yet Garet smiled. As he tried to grab and unsheathe his trusty katana, he found out he had none. Never had with him. Trying his crossbow, he noticed it was stuck on his back. No way to retrieve it, but absolutely clueless on his to get it loose. Then again, as he reconsidered, why would he raise arms against his parents?

Slowly, he walked over to them, and saw them looking at him, but they did not do anything more. More and more realizing his situation, Garet understood his parents had not seen him for a long time. They must have proclaimed him dead, killed by Sin or something alike. As he took his mother's body, he picked her up effortlessly, and placed her on a bed, conveniently placed a few feet away. He placed her on the bed, and knew this was his last moment. His father had suddenly disappeared, and he had only his mother to look at.

''Goodbye, mother. Have peace in all your ordeals.''

A wind blew over the Bevelle walls, and in it's whisperings, he thought he heard ''thank you''. He was not sure, as he had not seen his mother's lips move, but he wasn't able to look at her completely. What was once the form of his mother now seemed to lose all human traits, turn to parchment, and slowly, pieces of it flew off, revealing empty insides. More and more pieces flew off, until his mother was gone with the wind. All that remained was silence...anf weirdly, Garet had felt more at ease.

It was until then that he realized this was all a dream, as new voices were echoing through Bevelle's skies. With a small shock, Garet sat up, only to notice Loeka had tried to wake him up. The small girl was his favorite, and she also knew Garet would always be quite quick when woken up. It had not startled her anymore.

''Oh, Loeka...What is it, my dear?''

Garet pieces it all together. It was the dream he had for so long. It was recycled from time to time, but it always was something alike. The dream that marked the ending of his violent thoughts toward his old family, his old kin. The realization of forgiveness, and the idea of moving on. The idea that old bitterness would never aid one in it's adventures, but only hinder it to the point of blindness.

How he would most probably never see his mother again, nor be able to recognise her instantly...A considerable price to pay, but it was a well thought-out price. He would much rather watch Loake grow up as he had, then watch his rigid mother grow even older and condemn him at every turn. She might already have passed on, Garet did not know.

Loeka did not look happy. The little girl, tanned like all the others, had created a beautiful wreath with the flowers Garet had imported into the village. However, a sad face below those flowers didn't grant any serenity at all. Garet sat up from his bed and placed his hand below her chin, slowly raising her little face up. She was sobbing a bit. He decided to lower herself to his level, sitting with his back leaning against the wooden bed.

''Well? You know I'm your friend. What's wrong?''

The sobs became louder until she simply threw herself into his unarmored arms with much fervor, causing Garet to issue a small ''oof''! Loeka cried, and she needed comfort. Garet tried to calm her down, but it didn't really seem to work much. As he patted her back he came to a stark realization. Where was Loeka's Moogle doll? She always had it with her. At times, Garet had wondered who would win the race toward decomposing, but that animal was ahead in that game. Loake loved it so much, she would drag it to the beach, have it swim in the sea, play with it in the town and cuddle it to sleep, almost every day. She was getting a little older now, but still inseparable from her doll.

''Where's our stuffed friend?''

Garet had learned a lesson not to ask from that moment on. The cried intensified until they were deafening. It took Garet all his willpower not to succumb to this siren of wails and sobs. In between her sadness, Loeka tried to form a coherent sentence, but sobbing and wailing tended to thwart such plans. After minutes, Garet got her to utter enough words to actually make sense. She would always be strengthened by watching the old man in the eyes.

''Te...meh me...took it. Te...they took...Muffin. Scary ff..ff..fiends.''

''Oh dear...well...''

Garet picked Loeka up and lifted her up, making her look him straigh in the eyes while he was standing up.

''Guess your friend Garet has to get Muffin back then?''

Loeka's eyes shimmered with sadness, but a glimmer of hope was all Garet needed. Sure, he had rather not be troubled, but he would never neglect one of his youngest friends. After asking her softly, Loeka told Garet Arthur that she was walking on the village premise but wolf fiends had scared her. She had dropped Muffin, and in that one moment, the fiends snatched it away. She couldn't even get it back...Now Loeka wasn’t supposed to walk away from the village without someone watching over here, but it was odd they would take her doll. Maybe they saw a chance but weren't fast enough to get to the kid. No matter, Garet would happily dispose them of their twisted pyreflies.

After bringin Loeka to her mother, Garet assured her again he was going to get Muffin and bring him back. Loeka's mother was especially grateful. She didn't like Loeka barging in Garet's house, but the old man was the last to mind. She had done that since birth, before she could hardly walk. Why change a rather interesting and harmless habit? Others would always say she was drawn towards Garet's posture, friendly attitude and he did stand out a little from regular Besaidian villagers.

''So..The quest for Muffin begins..''