Title: Ouroboros
Summary: As Yulia seals Lorelei for the first and last time, she wonders why he's here at all. [Yulia centric.]
AN: This piece's reasoning is based on Lorelei's "possession" of Tear's body in the core and the implications of his referring to that ability [to be possessed] as "the power of Yulia". I figure that was the way he "communicated" the score, since he can obviously appear (even if metaphysically). I was thinking that, since one of this game's major themes is the idea of "becoming your enemy", it would make sense that Van, in his attempts to destroy Lorelei, ends up taking in that conscience (as Lorelei did to Yulia thousands of years before) in hopes of creating "a better future". (Hence taking on Lorelei's own mindset, particularly if Lorelei actually doesn't believe that humanity is capable of change, as hinted towards via his surprise that Luke actually accomplishes anything in the ending animation sequence.)
. . . Yeah. Sorry it's so all over the place. XD;
"And you don't believe people can change?" There was a lapse in his music, and she assumed Lorelei was considering; he was an observer, and a bringer of fate.
". . . I do not," he chimed, voice a collection of shifting melody. Yulia had been an atheist, the brand that found logic was much more beautiful in an improbable reality than a god who turned haphazardly dials. It was as if he knew everything, and all his knowledge scared her. The future made her wonder if she wrong and she understood why Francis had been haunted by her. To think, omnipotent knowledge was the creation of mankind, because fontech had "birthed" Lorelei deep in the core, and Auldrant had built technology for the sake of industrialization and a commitment to the future. The fonon came first-- and she wondered who made all the other six kinds, and what chemistry they applied-- and the sentience came afterwards. Consciousness couldn't survive without a body.
People-- cults and otherwise-- arose to worship "Yulia Jue", because that was the prophet and the body of Lorelei; as long as anything said it knew the future, and the outcome was "prosperity", as claimed, they would adhere to being left blind and deaf, because they were told that they were protected. The idea and the prediction was kind at best, but given without thought. Lorelei knew all, but understood nothing.
He wanted genuinely to help, and Yulia wasn't angry with him for that; she accepted assistance when she needed it, and that was why the earth was being lifted, once again at Lorelei's discretion. (Thinking back on the mountains, a more conservative communication form would have sufficed, but he told her that, while he had the letters engraved into him, technology was foreign to him and he had not considered its value.)
In reflection, as an unbiased woman no longer afraid of being completely over-taken or losing her mind to it (whatever fear "it" might have been), he was honest about refusing to intervene. The future he had worked to prevent came about because he gave it to the world.
It was a strange feeling, and she swore that he may have been watching her silently, as he had never quite forgiven himself for leaving her with the blame for that score. (Although Yulia told him that was fine-- human beings had a hand in its coming, and thus she took responsibility. She just hoped the consequences were not what he'd saw. Man could change, in the best of circumstances. Most men follow the law, and they could be capable of managing a correct decision every now and then. Yes, sometimes it was fine, and others she hated him for it, but it wasn't his fault he was born with knowledge. Yulia noticed she didn't know what his misuse of it constituted, and felt sick in the pit of her gut.)
". . ." She wondered if he learned anything when he looked at her. Was she something new? Did he have any thoughts on her at all?
Lorelei stirred, fire spiraling across the array of colors and the horizon, "I think I will be sad, Yulia."
Her laugh was broken, "What? Sadness-- that doesn't sound like you at all." Talking about her death was morbid, and something useless.
"When you die Yulia, I will be sad," but time went on forever. She couldn't understand why he would care at all, as everything died, and he was more aware of that than anyone or anything, ". . . I will. . . miss you, even within the core."
The gylph was phosphorescent, aglow with wisps of color. "Isn't this what you wanted?" Yulia realized that he had hoped disappearing would make them forget, but that was very unlikely. (Perhaps the only thing in the world that was.)
". . . Yet, I will continue to hope you live Yulia; I want to see you, at least, survive." It was selfish, and she thanked him for it.
"Say you had power over time-- would you keep me alive?" Silence draped over them, and shadow played in the sky ahead.
". . . I would," it was a strange confirmation, because Yulia was already living forever as a prophet of a god, ". . . Do you hate me, Yulia?"
She was quiet, "No--" and yes. Not completely, just sometimes.
AN: Reasoning can be found on the Tales of the Abyss community on livejournal. D: I just can't have it cluttering up my narrative anymore.