Aten shifts forms, into a more birdlike form, and swoops to Zveran's hand.

"Such power should not be hidden."

"It will be hidden. It will remain hidden. I will take that secret to my grave, and Yevon help the man who tries to get it out of me. You'll find me short on patience and very good with knives."

"Having an aeon of that power would grant the summoners strength beyond what they can-"

A knife flew past the priest's ear, and embedded itself in the wall. 

"Next one is going through your eye," Zveran spat, then kept walking.

"Besides. The summoners are supposed to prove themselves," Masque comments blithely, apparently to Zveran, but volume just loud enough that it'll carry back to the priests.

"They- the pilgrimmage-"

Zveran keeps walking, going back the way they came. 

"The- the absolute arrogance," he mutters, and brings Aten closer to his chest. "Absolutely no way. They are not getting their hands on you."

Aten relaxes some at that.

Zveran strokes his thumb through Aten's flames. "I'm going to need to punch something very, very hard."

"I'm sure we can find something," Masque says with confidence.

"Priest-shaped would be best."

"Not going to argue."

Zveran was quiet as they made their way out of the temple, the guards now just not paying attention to them, rather than actively blocking them. 

He clenched his jaw, and held Aten closer. "Do you think we can get out of the city before night fall?"

"I'm fairly sure we can manage it, yes."

As they passed an inn, patrons turned suspicious eyes on the group.

"I don't think we'd be welcome anywhere."

Masque laughs. "Fools. But the open sky is more a friend."

"I'd much rather the open sky any day," he agreed. 

"You and me both..."

Zveran wraps a hand in Masque's elbow. "Stay close. We don't want to get ganged up on."

"I think we can take them."

"I love your confidence, I do, but I am running on fumes," Zveran says, grinning.

Masque nods.

It does take them the rest of the day, and into the sunset, to emerge on the other side of Bevelle city. 

After that, it's another few minutes walk to find a secluded, protected spot, hopefully far enough from the road that any enterprising Yevonites looking to spill Al Bhed blood shouldn't spot them. 

"Get some rest," Masque says firmly.