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year 5, quarter 3
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Still being a cute, awkward boy. And occasionally angsty.
Life is but a passing dream but the death that follows is eternal
Yuna agreed that this forest that he’d arrived in was known for its visions and hallucinations. At least that meant he wasn’t entirely crazy, which was a comforting thought. He realized how amazingly lucky he’d been to encounter Yuna so soon after arriving in the unforgiving place. He squinted at her again, but still believed she was real. She looked much more solid than the vision of his mother had. He had to accept that she was actually here, not just another hallucination. He didn’t really have another choice.
Seymour seemed to tower over the woman as he moved and stood before her. She gazed up at him and admitted that he wasn’t exactly what she expected. Well, she thought he was a maester, apparently. He still didn’t entirely understand why or how she thought that, or what strange trickery had brought them together here. She claimed to know him from Spira, but did she know a different version of him? Everything else about their meeting was utterly insane, so why was it crazy to believe she knew a version of himself in the future? Maybe he became a maester eventually. That’s what his father seemed to hint at wanting anyway.
“Well, I’m not a maester,” he argued when she commented that she’d never expected a maester to talk as he did. “At least, I wasn’t when I was taken from Zanarkand and brought here. I was barely a priest and only because my father forced the issue.” He shrugged and looked into the thick foliage past the other summoner. “Yevon never did anything for me, so why should I care for him? He took my mother from me.” He glanced at her sharply. “And your father.”
Yuna smiled slightly at him and asked if he wanted to go to Provo with her. He couldn’t really remain in this forest and risk madness, so he agreed with a nod. She commented that his magic was some of the best she’d ever seen. Was it? He fought off a blush, probably failed, and stared pointedly at his staff. He’d never thought of himself as particularly adept at magic. Sure, he knew white and black magic spells but nothing out of the ordinary. Or so he thought. He supposed he’d had more time to study and learn on Baaj than most other summoners did but it wasn’t like he could cast anything truly powerful like Holy or Ultima.
“The last thing I remember is praying in the Temple of the Fayth in the ruins of Zanarkand. Then I suddenly ended up here.” He glanced behind his shoulder, staring in the direction of his mother’s fayth where it lay hidden in the forest. “I don’t know how much help I will be. But I’ll journey with you.” He gripped his staff and waited for her to lead the way.
Don't mind me. Just forcing Seymour to confront his abusive father.
I will live with my sorrow
Seymour brushed off her comment about him being a maester so abruptly that Yuna had to believe that he found the idea genuinely distasteful. It was hard to reconcile the boy across from her who claimed to be an unwilling priest with the man who had seemed like such a devoted new maester. Had the version that she knew always been wearing a mask? Despite his marriage proposal, Yuna supposed that she really hadn’t known much about him yet.
“Lord Jyscal forced you?” Yuna asked with a frown. She had never gotten a chance to meet the man before he died, and Seymour had no reason to lie, so she believed him immediately. Still, the Guado had held Jyscal in such high respect that she had always assumed he was a great man, but Seymour made him sound so cruel. It was odd.
Yuna sucked in a slight breath when he mentioned that Yevon was the reason her father was gone. People mentioned Braska to her so often that she was normally able to fake a smile quickly enough, but no one had ever said anything like that to her before. Not even Tidus dared to say that much, and she knew how little he cared for any of Spira’s customs.
“Do you...really hate them so? I never knew.” Taking a moment to compose herself, she adjusted her grip on her staff before looking up at him again. “I’m so sorry. About your mother.” Yuna wasn’t sure how the woman had died that Seymour would blame the church of Yevon for it, but she was sure that he’d tell her when he was ready to. “But my father...he chose his path. He wanted Spira’s suffering to go away more than anything. I can’t blame anyone for his death except Sin.”
Yuna was grateful for the subject change, and she gave Seymour a curious look after he explained what he’d been doing directly before this. “You’ve been to Zanarkand?” Had she learned that from the other version of Seymour somewhere in the missing pieces of her pilgrimage? Even if she hadn’t married him, he seemed like he would have been a great help with everything that came later. She hoped that they’d at least spoken about it.
“I think you’ll be plenty of help getting out of here,” she insisted with a slight smile as she waved aside his modesty. “Shiva will get tired of me if I summon for every encounter, and I’ve barely learned any black magic at all. All I really have is my white magic.” Holy was nothing to sneeze at of course, but it ate so much of her magic that she didn’t like to use it unless she had to. It was times like this that she really missed her guardians.
“When I say it like that, I almost feel as if I should call you Sir Seymour,” Yuna said a little teasingly as she started to push aside some branches to lead him back towards the path that she had run from. “But you’re a summoner too of course, so I guess that makes us both guardians today.”
They weren’t terribly far from the path--Seymour had been close enough that Yuna had heard his low crying after all--but the trees grew so closely together on the way that she fell quiet in her task of clearing a way through the thicket for them, her mind once again on Lord Jyscal. Seymour’s distaste for his father hadn’t surprised her as much as it should have, and that made her feel like she was forgetting something important. Had he told her something? Had she learned something in Guadosalam?
There was a sphere. Wasn’t there?
Yuna had just managed to find the dirt clearing of the path, but it wasn’t the sudden memory of Lord Jyscal’s unsent dropping a sphere in her path that made her stop in her tracks. It was the specter of the man himself blocking the trail towards Provo.
Yuna knew enough about the Headstone Forest to not be surprised that she’d get a vision of Jyscal when her mind had been on him, but her eyes darted back towards Seymour anyway. She was a little afraid of what he’d do if he could see it too.
[attr="class","sgoverlap"]Life is but a passing dream.
[attr="class","sgbody"]“Lord Jyscal forced you?” Seymour shrugged in response to her frown and question. “Maybe forced isn’t the correct word. But there wasn’t much else I could do. I’d only just returned from exile in Baaj and my father wanted me to follow in his footsteps.” He didn’t really know why he was pouring out all his problems to Yuna. Maybe it was just because he hoped she’d understand. Maybe he was still emotionally raw from the vision of his mother. Or maybe this was just the way he was, away from the facade of a Priest of Yevon that he’d been forced to cultivate in Spira. [break][break]
Seymour realized that his sacrilegious words had startled and shocked Yuna. He’d probably gone too far, mentioning her father so callously. But to him, Braska had only just sacrificed himself. It was still all too fresh in his mind. Braska did what he could not, would not do years before. “Do you...really hate them so?” [break][break]
Seymour was silent for a moment as the question sunk in. Did he? He’d never truly considered if he hated Yevon. In Spira, Yevon just was. There was no escaping him and his traditions. She went on, apologizing for his mother’s death but arguing that Braska had chosen his path. “I think I hate...that not everyone had a choice,” he finally said in response to her earlier question. “I hate that the Calm isn’t permanent. I hate the cycle and I wish there was a way to end it.” But of course, there wasn’t. None that he knew of. “I hate what Yevon expects of his summoners.” He focused on his long-fingered hands wrapped around his staff, trying not to think about his mother’s sacrifice again. Trying not to think about Lady Yunalesca and what she’d expected of him. [break][break]
Seymour was more than happy to move on and discuss something else. Anything else. “I’ve been twice,” he said though didn’t elaborate as to why. “It’s all ruined. And very dangerous.” Yuna mentioned Shiva the aeon. So she could summon here? Hopefully Anima would still be reachable if he tried to summon her. The thought of being unable to summon the last vestige of his mother sent a wave of anxiety through him but he tried to push it down. He just nodded and agreed with her. They’d certainly manage to make it through together. [break][break]
She commented, somewhat mirthfully, that they were both summoners and guardians today. He supposed that was true, in a way. He’d never made the true summoner’s pilgrimage with guardians, but he knew the importance of the arrangement. “I am uncertain if I can still summon here, so that remains to be seen,” he commented, trying to keep his voice light. “But I can use my magic to help see us out of this forest.” He followed Yuna through the foliage, trusting her to lead him to a path out of the accursed place. [break][break]
And she did. There was a dirt path leading through the trees. But she stopped in her tracks and Seymour nearly ran into her. “What-?” he started to ask, but then he saw the reason for her hesitation. He moved slowly and carefully around the other summoner and stared into the eyes of none other than his father. This is a hallucination. This is just like the one of mom. This isn’t really happening. But even as he told himself that, his body wouldn’t be convinced. His mouth was dry. His breath caught in his chest. His hand trembled. He tried to remain upright. [break][break]
“Seymour, child. Why are you here? Where have you gone? What have you done this time?” The guado’s long, spindly fingers reached for him. “It is time to come home, son. Stop this frivolous journey and return to your duties. There is nothing for you here. You belong with me. Come, now.” [break][break]
“You’re not real,” Seymour said in a breathy, halting voice. “You’re no more real than mom. You can’t be here.” He took a step back. “Leave me alone.” His voice had dropped to a barely audible whisper and he tried to shut his eyes against the image, against the stupid, illogical pull he felt to do as the image asked. To go to him, even when Seymour knew he shouldn’t.
[break]
[attr="class","sginfo"]Sorry for the length! I got carried away. / Yuna
Yuna blanched a little at that, watching his long fingers curl around his staff before she glanced off to the side. “I don’t disagree, but even so. We chose our path,” she murmured quietly before continuing to lead him through the foliage. Part of her wanted to ask Seymour why he’d given up his pilgrimage. She knew him to be an incredibly talented summoner after he’d called an aeon on the fiends attacking Luca, but she couldn’t remember ever hearing why he’d chosen to become a maester instead. The more she spoke with this younger version of Seymour, the more painfully aware she grew of how little she knew about him.
Yuna nodded when he expressed that he wasn’t sure if he could still summon here or not yet. “Shiva is the only one to still answer my call.” It was an embarrassing admission--after travelling so far in her pilgrimage, to lose all but one aeon left her feeling shameful and vulnerable. “I hope that you have better luck. You've been a summoner much longer than I have...”
As they reached the path, Yuna regretted immediately how her thoughts had dwelled on Lord Jyscal, but her eyes were mostly on Seymour as the specter advanced towards them. Jyscal’s words were clearly meant to chastise him, and though they were a little condescending, she couldn’t sense anything cruel about them. Nothing that would suggest why Seymour reacted as if he’d been slapped.
Yuna took in how he flinched backwards, the helpless tone in his voice, the way his eyes slipped shut as if he wanted to turn invisible to escape the thin fingers of the guado reaching towards him. She had seen reactions like that before, particularly in the vulnerable way that Tidus spoke about Sir Jecht, but it still shocked her as she stared at the vision of the dead maester approaching his son. He had always been exalted as the man who had united humans and the guado, but Seymour’s reactions were too honest for her to see anything but abuse when she looked between them.
“Get away from him.” Yuna’s fingers dug into her staff as she stepped in front of Seymour. Twirling to the side, she spun the decorative rod over her head before she brought it down in front of her. “Rest. This time for good,” she murmured as the vision started to dissolve into pyreflies that she wasn’t entirely certain were real. Perhaps the sending didn’t actually work on Zephon, but if it worked on the dead in this forest, then that was good enough for her.
A sphere fell from the man’s sleeve and landed at her feet. She doubted it was any more real than he was, but Yuna still stared at the familiar scene, her memory flashing to the guado approaching her from across the Farplane back on Spira. Sudden memory struck her, and Yuna clapped a hand over her mouth, whirling to face the blue-haired man behind her even though that left her back to Jyscal.
“Listen closely, for I shall tell you the truth about my son, Seymour.”
“He is using Yevon, the guado, and even the summoners. If he is not stopped, he will surely bring destruction and chaos to Spira.”
“I will leave this world soon, killed by my own son.”
Yuna could hear her own heartbeat in her ears as she stared up at the man in a new light. How could she have forgotten what she’d learned in the Thunderplains? Was that why she’d felt uneasy the moment that she’d set eyes on Seymour again? Had she confronted him? She desperately needed to remember how that had ended if she had, but her thoughts were too scattered and panicked to focus.
“You killed him,” Yuna finally managed, staring up at Seymour as though she hoped he’d contradict her. Somehow she'd forgotten about the specter behind her.
[attr="class","sgoverlap"]Life is but a passing dream.
[attr="class","sgbody"]Yuna stepped in front of him, putting herself between Seymour and the vision of his father. He was shocked that she would step forward to protect him. He wouldn’t have expected that of this woman he barely knew. Yet, maybe it was because she somehow knew him. Or at least a version of himself. But Seymour was confused when she told Jyscal to rest for good in a soft murmur. She began to dance, to perform the sending. But Jyscal wasn’t dead, was he? Seymour’s father had been very much alive when he’d last seen him. He stared at her, unable to move or speak, as pyreflies began to flicker and dissolve where the image of his father had once been. And for the second time that day, Seymour watched an illusion of one of his parents drift away slowly into the chill wind of the Headstone Forest. [break][break] He shivered and began to say something, to thank her. But the words died on his lips. He forgot what he was going to say, he forgot everything when a sphere fell from his father’s sleeve before he could dissolve completely. The spectral image of Jyscal was faint and flickering, but the guado approached Yuna and seemed to speak to her. It was ignoring Seymour now, as if his own son didn’t even exist. But what shocked Seymour the most were the words spoken in Jyscal’s raspy voice. He spoke of the truth of his son. Seymour recoiled and tried to move away from the image. He had a dreadful feeling about this, about everything happening here in the Headstone Forest. But he couldn’t escape Yuna’s mismatched stare as she whirled to face him. A hand was clamped to her mouth and she was looking at him like he was the face of evil itself. [break][break] “I will leave this world soon, killed by my own son.” The rest of the spectre’s words were harsh and terrible. But it was its parting line that knocked the wind out of Seymour and left him gasping for air. It was those words that made his eyes fly open in shock and horror. He, kill his own father? Regardless of how low and worthless Jyscal made him feel, regardless of his mess of complicated emotions about maesters, summoners, and Yevon, he’d never thought to commit patricide. He’d only ever craved his father’s love and attention, his admiration and acceptance. He hadn’t hated him. [break][break] Had he?[break][break] Or was there hate already beginning to manifest in his heart? Hate birthed from a lifetime of pain and isolation, of inadequacy and fear. Maybe, if Seymour admitted it, he did hate his father, at least partially. He hated him for bringing a half-breed son into the world, only to exile him and forget about him until it was convenient. He hated him for sacrificing him and his mother. He hated --- [break][break] Seymour’s turmoil of thoughts broke off as noticed Yuna’s panicked expression. The young summoner was looking at him with horror now. Behind her, the spectre of Jyscal finally drifted away. The wind howled through the trees and they were alone. “You killed him,” Yuna condemned him with her words and with the terrible look in her once-gentle eyes. He stepped away from her again, clutching his staff so tight his knuckles were white. “I don’t know what he means. I didn’t kill my own father.” He paused and thought for a moment. “I’ve never killed anyone,” he added, finding that to be a relevant detail. “Until last year, I lived on Baaj Island. I could have never done these things. I am using no one, I have no grand plans of destruction. And no plans to commit patricide and rid myself of both of my parents.”
[break]
[attr="class","sginfo"]Seymour just wanted to be loved and accepted! / Yuna
Seymour looked as shocked by the replay of the sphere as Yuna felt, and even with as panicked as she was, something about that reaction struck her as wrong. Maybe it was because her Seymour back on Spira took everything in such stride that it really cemented how different he was from the teenage version across from her. She somehow couldn’t imagine Maester Seymour responding to her accusation with anything other than a calm refusal or cold acceptance, but that wasn’t how he reacted at all. Any progress that Yuna had made with him in the clearing looked like it had been lost as he took a step back from her, holding onto his staff for dear life as if he expected her to attack at any moment.
Despite everything that she knew to be true, Yuna still felt her stomach clench with pity for the scared boy looking back at her. This wasn’t a jaded Maester, met with respect at every turn. This was someone her age who had been hurt enough to jump at shadows and fear retribution from someone nearly a foot shorter than him. He was legitimately upset by what he’d heard, and that more than anything made her bite her lip and lower her staff a bit warily.
“I believe you. Or at least...I believe that you haven’t yet.” That was the heart of the problem, wasn’t it? How did you punish someone for crimes that they hadn’t committed yet? “But I don’t understand.” That was an understatement. The situation was so overwhelming that Yuna felt tears burning her eyes, though she did her best to not let them fall. “How can we be from different times? And why can’t I remember what happened between us?”
She didn’t expect Seymour to have an answer to those questions. Not when he was so new to Zephon, so maybe it was unfair to have asked. Shaking her head, Yuna looked up at the blue-haired man again, a different question rising to her lips that never had the first time that she’d heard the sphere back in the Thunderplains. Maybe because she’d only ever heard wonderful things about Lord Jyscal until now. “...What did your father do to you that was so bad?” Seymour’s words and actions just didn’t mesh well with the image that the previous Guado leader had presented to the world, and it bothered her. “You said you lived on Baaj, but it’s just a ruin, isn’t it? Why wouldn’t you have been in Guadosalam?”
Something told Yuna that the answer would be hard to hear, but she needed to hear it. There was a piece of the story that she hadn’t had before back on Spira. She was sure of it.
[attr="class","sgoverlap"]Life is but a passing dream.
[attr="class","sgbody"]Seymour continued to clutch his staff like a lifeline as Yuna looked at him with confusion evident in her expression. She lowered her staff and admitted that she believed him. Seymour supposed that was good, but it didn’t explain anything else about what had happened. If Yuna came from Spira’s future, did that mean Seymour was destined to kill Jyscal? [break][break] Yuna seemed just as confused by everything as he was. Her eyes seemed watery. Seymour knew his own were too. Everything that had happened… his mother, then his father. This woman from Spira’s future. It was just too much. “I have no idea,” he said in response to her questions even though she didn’t seem to be looking for answers. “I still don’t know if this is some trick of Sin or of the Fayth. Or whatever magic this world has. I don’t know.” He was lost. [break][break] But then she asked a question that required an actual answer. “What did your father do to you that was so bad?” Seymour’s mouth fell open slightly and he struggled for words. How much to tell her? She seemed completely unaware of his history despite having known an older version of him. He was quiet for a long time, before deciding to tell Yuna the truth. Had he really even had anyone to talk to? Anyone who might understand, at least a little? [break][break] “I assume you know my mother was human?” Surely she knew that much. It wasn’t as if Seymour looked fully Guado either. “My parents thought they’d bring their races together, but it didn’t work. Both sides hated me. So my mother took me away from Guadosalam, that’s why I didn’t grow up there. I lived on Baaj my entire life until recently, with only my mother and a couple retainers at first.” Seymour chewed on his lip and paused, before speaking again. Before saying something else sacrilegious. “Did you always want to be a summoner?” he asked first, staring into her two-toned eyes. [break][break] “I never did. I was forced to become one. I was only ten when my mother and I went to Zanarkand. I didn’t know exactly what it entailed, not at first. We met with Lady Yunalesca and I realized we’d both have to die. Mother sacrificed herself,” Seymour’s voice wavered here and his eyes flickered to a far spot in the trees past Yuna’s head. “Her final aeon has been with me ever since. I was supposed to use her to defeat Sin. But I was only a boy who’d lost his mom. I didn’t do it, I couldn’t. It was my ultimate failure, especially in the eyes of my father. I learned afterwards that Jyskal knew and had encouraged my mother’s plan. He had wanted us to both die in the Final Summoning. I guess it would have made things easier for him.” He wouldn’t cry, not again. He swallowed hard and tried to finish. “After Zanarkand, my father kept me exiled in Baaj, completely alone now. He wouldn’t let me return. Not until your father’s Calm. Almost a year ago, he called me back to Guadosalam suddenly. It was just because Sin was defeated and he was finally willing to look past my failures.”
[break]
[attr="class","sginfo"]She finally knows his #tragicbackstory / Yuna
Seymour didn’t seem to know how to answer her questions about what was going on here, but Yuna hadn’t really expected him to honestly. If she had been here for at least a year and still had no idea how people could be dragged here from separate times, then it would be unfair to expect Seymour to have those answers when he’d only just arrived.
Yuna regretted asking him such a bold question about Lord Jyscal when Seymour looked a little stunned and as if he needed a moment to pull his thoughts back together. She was reminded more than ever that this wasn’t the calm and collected Maester that she had met in Luca. This was a boy around her age who seemed as if he were a little unused to talking to people. What could have happened to him in a decade that he had changed so much? This version of Seymour might not have the answer, but Yuna suspected that it must tie in to Lord Jyscal if Seymour’s evolution had culminated in his murder. Maybe that’s why she was so desperate to hear the truth.
“Yes. I knew,” she murmured briefly when the blue-haired boy across from her asked if she’d known his mother was human. Seymour’s attendant Tromell had told them, but she’d always suspected before then. He just didn’t have the appearance of a full Guado. He was taller than most humans and had slender fingers with sharpened nails, but they weren’t quite the clawed fingers of a Guado. Similarly, his hair was styled a bit unnaturally for a human, but it looked like it had more give than the stiff hair of a full Guado.
“What?” Yuna was shocked to hear that his own father had banished him to Baaj Island when he was a child, just for being part human. “That’s terrible…” Baaj was said to be almost entirely in ruins, and to confine your own son there just for coming from two worlds was impossibly cruel. Yuna’s hands clenched a little tighter around her staff, deciding that she was probably taking it so personally because she herself was only half human. What would her life have been if her father had been as ashamed of her as Lord Jyscal was of Seymour? It hurt to even consider it.
Seymour asked if she had always wanted to be a summoner, and the reason why became clear as he explained to her when he had first become one. Truthfully Yuna had always wondered why he had chosen to give up his pilgrimage. She didn’t blame him for it--many abandoned the journey before the end--but he had been such a powerful summoner that it had always seemed odd to her. Now her eyes widened as he finished up his story. It almost didn’t seem possible that the revered Maester of the Guado could have done those things, but Yuna believed him anyway. Even when their stories were ludicrous, Yuna gave people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that was a fault of hers, but she had no intention of stopping now.
“I didn’t always want to be a summoner, but I did after I saw how happy my father’s calm made everyone.” Yuna looked up to meet his almost purple eyes before continuing. “But it should always be a choice. Ten is...too young to make that decision even if you’d wanted to. I’m so sorry.” Yuna steeled herself to be blasphemous before looking at him determinedly. “Maester or not, your father was a coward.”
Yuna thought that her own confusion could wait in the wake of how distressed the boy was, but parts of his story had struck her like a blitzball. “Her final aeon has been with me ever since. I was supposed to use her to destroy Sin.” That couldn’t really be how the final summoning worked...could it? Yuna had always known that she would die facing Sin, but someone else alongside her…
Biting her lip, Yuna shook her head, deciding that her questions could wait until they were back on the trail. It wasn’t as important as Seymour’s feelings right now.
“If it helps...I do think you bring about change eventually. The Guado seemed to adore you when we visited your manor.” A sudden thought struck her, and she smiled weakly up at Seymour, even if she still wasn’t quite sure how to feel about him. “You were always helping me and my guardians. More than the other summoners. I assumed you picked me because of my father, but...my mother was an Al Bhed, you see.”
Of course, Yuna wasn't entirely sure that his attention had been a good thing between his marriage proposal and the murder of Jyscal, but she kept trying to remind herself that this version hadn't done anything wrong yet.
[attr="class","sgoverlap"]Life is but a passing dream.
[attr="class","sgbody"]As Seymour told the tale of his childhood, Yuna seemed overwhelmed, even shocked at parts. She certainly hadn’t expected the majority of what he had to say. Why had his older self hidden it from her? Had he not divulged any of his history to the young summoner when she’d come to visit him, as she’d claimed? What happened in the next decade of his life in Spira to change him so fundamentally? Did the helplessness, cynicism, and nihilism he was already beginning to feel irreparable change him? It didn’t seem a farfetched assumption. Another decade of feeling like this would change anyone, wouldn’t it? [break][break] The other summoner did say she’d always dreamed of being a summoner. Seymour supposed that wasn’t so shocking, not with a father like Braska, one of the greatest summoners Spira had known. She’d grown up with his memory, no doubt worshipped him as all Yevonites did. He hadn’t known Baska personally, but he assumed the man was a better role-model and father than Jyscal had ever been. [break][break] The mild-mannered woman surprised him when she said with determination that his father was a coward. Her conviction and the way she obviously had to psyche herself up to say something against a Maester of Yevon forced a soft, slightly awkward chuckle from Seymour. “That’s certainly one word for it,” he agreed with an attempt at a smile. It probably came off more like a grimace. “But thank you. It’s nice to hear someone agree for once. Everyone else just told me it was for my own good and I should have been honored.” [break][break] He was shocked when she added that he did seem to eventually bring change to the Guado. He supposed it was nice to hear that the Guado people adored him in some future he’d never witness. But… he was confused. It didn’t line up exactly, not with how Yuna first looked at him. And not with the fact that she knew nothing about him and that future-Seymour had apparently been hiding aspects of his past. He must have completely remade himself because he couldn’t imagine the Guado looking up to the current form of himself. Not by a longshot. [break][break] But he was pulled out of his musings when she dropped that she was half Al Bhed. He looked at her sharply, bristling with curiosity. Human and Al Bhed? That was almost as unheard of as Human and Guado! He looked into her eyes, again noting the two tones. The green was recognizable as a common Al Bhed color, but she didn’t seem to have the strange pupils the desert-dwelling peoples had. He would have never guessed her heritage if she’d never brought it up. But still, it was intriguing. “Your parents, was their union less controversial?” Then he looked at her quizzically. “If my future self thinks anything like my current self, I was probably more interested in the fact that you were another halfbreed. Assuming that was common knowledge. Being Braska’s daughter is certainly noteworthy, but another child of two worlds would have interested me much more.” He tried for a smile again. “I hope I provided some decent help, at least.” He still remembered her strange expressions as she looked at him though. Something had happened in her timeline between them that he couldn’t begin to guess at.
[break]
[attr="class","sginfo"]Seymour senses awkwardness. He does not understand xD / Yuna
Yuna was glad that she was able to get Seymour to laugh a little when she condemned his father. It cut the tension in the air, even if something about his chuckle made her uneasy to the point where she clasped her own hands together behind her back. More had happened between them than just the murder of Lord Jyscal--she was almost sure of it--but even recovering that much had left her fairly drained. She could always try to prod more memories of him another day. Yuna didn’t think there was any rush as long as this younger version was the one who was around. He hadn’t done anything wrong yet after all, and hopefully he never would now that he had a chance to escape Spira.
Seymour looked her over with far more curiosity after she admitted that she was only half-human too, which confirmed her suspicions about why the one from her time had taken an interest in her. Yuna had known that Seymour was only half a guado of course, but she had assumed that like everyone else, he had been inclined to give her special treatment because of who her father was. Knowing how lonely his past was, it was kind of sad to realize that maybe he had just been happy to meet someone like him.
“It was controversial, but my parents stuck by their choice until their deaths,” Yuna admitted. “The church...They pretend otherwise now, but they shunned my father when he was alive. No one thought he would defeat Sin. And when he did, they built statues of him just the same, and they kept my lineage quiet after that. Not many people know anymore, but I assume the maesters would.” It was sad really, thinking about what her life would have been if her father had cast her out like Seymour’s had. In another life, maybe their roles could have been reversed. It was harder to blame his actions when she looked at it like that.
“I hope I provided some decent help at least.”
Yuna was suddenly very interested in a spindly tree just past Seymour’s shoulder as she tried to keep her mind off the blank hole in her memories after the Thunderplains. “Oh, yes.” Everyone always told her that she was a terrible liar, but it wasn’t lying if she thought about everything before Guadosalam, right? “You helped us through closed roads, and you protected me and my guardians during a failed Crusader attack…” Yuna was going to try her best not to tell him about the marriage proposal. If he didn't remember that they'd been engaged, then that sounded like something that would be better to take to the grave.
Feeling her cheeks burn a little hot, Yuna clasped her hands together and took a step backward. “Well. I suppose we should hurry if we want to get to Provo before dark…”
