Year I

Caius held the small girl in his arms, letting her chubby fingers tug and pull at his hair. Her round face smiled up at him, giggling. He smiled, reveling in her liveliness, ignoring the fact that the tugging was beginning to hurt. He gently brushed a strand of blue hair from her face, which fell right back into place as it always had. The familiarity of the gesture sent a wave of emotion through Caius's heart.

As deeply as he cared for the child, he lacked the natural motherly qualities that so often soothed her. He could only mimic what he had witnessed in the past. This Yeul's mother had been a lonely, sickly woman, and before she had died, she entrusted her ill-fated daughter to the man who was all at once a stranger and a familiar sight. It was not often that Caius had to take charge of Yeul as a baby, but he had always been there to watch over her through her earliest years. He knew her antics, her mannerisms, the ways in which she moved. It was all so familiar, and yet with each incarnation came new emotions, both joyful and grief-filled.

Yeul seemed to sense Caius's melancholy, and she threatened to cry. Caius hushed her, rocking her in his arms and humming gently. Soon, her green eyes began getting drowsy, and gradually the crying subsided and she drifted off to sleep in his arms. Caius held her close, shielding her from the wind, and headed back towards their shelter, something pricking at his eyes.

Year V

Yeul carefully took the package from Caius's hands, her childish face curious. The package appeared to be no more than a box with holes poked into the top, but when a mewling sound came from inside, her face split into such a wide grin that Caius smiled, too. She lifted the lid of the box, and the grin grew wider. "Ooh," she cooed, marveling at the two small kittens that peered up at her, their eyes the same color as her own. Yeul eagerly lifted them onto her lap. One was a silky black, the other a milky white. She stroked them for a moment and then looked back up at Caius, and said with such sincere enthusiasm that it hurt his heart, "Thank you."

Gently placing the kittens back into the box, she stood and hugged Caius with all her might. His perpetually lingering sadness remained, but for a moment he could say that he was happy. Seeing his Yeul smile was one of the few things that could bring light to his darkened heart, seeing her happy. She deserved happiness. She deserved it more than anyone.

Kneeling, Caius examined the kittens alongside Yeul. "What will you call them?" he asked. The young girl appeared to think for a moment, then decided.

"I'll name them after you," she said thoughtfully, watching as the kittens lay protectively by one another. "Caius and Ballad." She smiled, pleased with her choices, and began to pet the black one's ears.

"Thank you," said Caius, smiling at her thoughtfulness, "I am flattered." The girl seemed satisfied, and gave him another look of happiness and thanks. Drowsily, the white kitten batted his paws at her fingertips.

Almost every Yeul whom Caius had met had had a kind heart, but this incarnation was particularly tender. Ever since she was small, it had been evident that she loved nothing more than to go into the plains under Caius's watchful eye, watching the life around her. Ever since she could speak she had asked for a pet, and Caius had finally found the perfect candidates for her birthday gift. As she gently stroked the sleeping kittens, smiling absently, Caius felt a familiar wave of emotion: a bittersweet concoction of sorrow and happiness. He had to save her, someday, somehow.

Year VII

They were out in the plains again, and Yeul was stroking the neck of a chocobo. Even the wildest animals seemed to sense her gentleness and instantly took a liking to her. Her two cats, now grown, playfully pounced on one another in the grass, making her laugh at their antics. She gestured for her guardian, excited about her new friend. As the dark-clad man neared the chocobo it shied away, but after a few calming words from Yeul, it allowed Caius to stroke its neck, too. Tentatively, she asked, "Do you think we could ride him now?"

"Perhaps," said Caius, having predicted that she would ask. For years she had asked, and he had always replied, "When you're a bit older." But she was a bit older, he couldn't deny, and her life was already almost half over.

"I suppose you're old enough now," he decided, blinking. "What does the chocobo think?"

"Oh, I'm sure he would be fine," she said, beaming. Caius nodded and carefully lifted her onto the back of the bird, then climbed on himself. The chocobo uttered a squawk of protest at the sudden weight, but with a reassuring pat from the seeress, took off with a start. Caius worried that Yeul would fall off, and he kept a firm grip on her. In front of him, Yeul was laughing merrily. It was her first ride on one of the large birds, after all.

After some time, the chocobo finally slowed to a halt near where they began, and the seeress and her guardian slipped to the ground. The cats were still there, and gave them both slightly offended looks before returning to hunting beetles. Yeul, breathless with laughter, doubled over and began to cough. Worried, Caius held her steady, and with horror saw the symbol of Etro in her emerald eyes. She was having a vision, and Caius held her carefully, feeling tremendous guilt. Had he brought it on by causing her too much excitement?

"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly after the vision subsided. Yeul nodded, still gasping for breath.

"I'm alright," she managed. "It was short. I'm okay." Caius nodded. It appeared to have been at least a fairly simple vision, though he felt a blade of sorrow pierce his heart at the thought of the life it had just cost her.

"Let's get you home," he said softly, seeing how weak she was. The vision had evidently not been short, after all. He lifted her up with ease, as he had done so many times. The cats looked up from the grass concernedly, as though they could tell that something had happened. Clicking his tongue for them to follow, Caius headed back towards the village, his young charge in his arms and his eyes stinging.

Year XI

Caius was reclining in the grass, his mind wandering as his namesakes prowled around about him, pouncing at anything they saw move. More than once, that something had been Caius's boot. A few yards away, Yeul was doing something, though he couldn't see what. Deep in thought, and somewhat in a daze, he started when her face suddenly appeared in front of him.

"I have something for you," she said, her soft tones full of excitement. She was holding her hands behind her back, smiling shyly.

"You know I do not need gifts," said Caius, smiling slightly.

"Yes, but I like giving them to you," Yeul replied. "Close your eyes!" Caius did as she asked, amused by her antics. He felt a few tugs on three or four strands of hair, and something soft wrapped around his forehead. After he felt her tighten something behind his head, Yeul told him that he could open his eyes. She ushered him over to one of the multiple ponds that were scattered about the area, and said happily, "Look!"

There was a thin, purple and black bandanna tied around his forehead, slightly tidying his wild hair, which was now adorned with a few reddish feathers. It made him look different somehow. "It looks good! Do you like it?" Yeul said pleasantly. "If you don't, you can take it off," she added, concerned. Caius shook his head.

"No, it's wonderful," he assured her, gently pulling on a strand of her silvery blue hair. "And I would never toss aside a gift from you." Yeul seemed content, and flopped down beside him.

"I'm glad," she said, Ballad climbing onto her lap and purring.

Year XV

Caius grew more apprehensive with each passing day. He knew that it was going to happen soon, and despite the number of times he had seen it, the sadness never lessened. In contrast, it grew sharper, deeper, and more consuming with each loss. Yeul, too, was aware of her impending fate, but with maturity and wisdom far beyond her numbered years, she kept smiling. She knew the events exactly that would lead up to her death, but she wasn't afraid. She just kept smiling.

Often, when she witnessed her guardian's sorrow, she would do her best to console him, telling him stories and giving him little gifts. She knew that one day, in another body, she would see him again, that she would always be with him—but she knew how heavily it all weighed on his heart. She wished it didn't, and felt sorry for the pain it caused him. There was nothing she could do but to be happy, to be strong for him.

Year XVI

The sun hung low over the distant mountains, its last rays warming the faces of the two people standing on the ridge. The sky was tinted the color of peaches, with reds and oranges and pinks. Yeul sighed. "It's beautiful," she said. Caius nodded. "You know, I'm happy," she said after a pause. Caius looked at her, the lines of sadness particularly evident upon his face.

"Good," he said, and he meant it. He believed that she was telling the truth, though he wished with all his heart that her happiness could last a full lifetime. There they stood, looking out over the horizon, filled with memories of times long passed. The sun had almost slipped completely out of sight when Caius said, "Are you ready to go home?" Yeul nodded.

At first, Yeul was trailing just behind him, limping slightly as she always had. It seemed normal. But then, Caius heard her breathing grow shallow and accelerated, and he turned. "No," he whispered softly.

There was Etro's sigil, all too familiar, as was the tragedy it brought with it. And familiarity did not change the horror of it. Yeul swayed, her expression far away as it always was when she was having a vision. Caius caught his slender charge in his arms, keeping her from collapsing completely. He knelt, lying her across his knees. "Yeul, please..." he said, his voice catching in his throat. The girl, with effort, looked up at him, and managed a weak smile.

"Thank you, Caius," she said, her breathing labored. "For everything." Caius held her close, feeling his heart break as it had so many times before. One would think the pain would lessen after so many encounters. Ah, were it so.

Yeul, mustering her strength, reached up and wiped away the few tears that had fallen from Caius's eyes. "I'll... see you again," she whispered, smiling once more, and fell limp in her guardian's arms. Caius pulled her body close, feeling sadness pervade his soul. He felt the loss as a deep, dull ache that felt like a heavy weight on his chest, one that grew heavier with each passing.

Caius closed his eyes. "She is only a child," he said, his voice empty and husky. "Why must you curse her so?"

Caius was not sure how long he had been kneeling there until he felt a nudge on his leg. He looked down to see Yeul's cats curled up beside them, Ballad softly licking Yeul's limp hand. They seemed to realize that something had happened, and were trying to comfort their owners. Caius willed himself to stand, carrying Yeul's small body in his arms. He looked up at the sky, now black as ink.

"I will save her."