Author's Note: This is my first serious fanfic... I doubt I'll ever finish it, but oh well. This is based after the events of Final Fantasy 10. 10-2 is evil, so we'll pretend it never happened. All characters, places, etc. copyright of Square Enix. Enjoy.
Edit: Attempted to fix the formatting...
"Most benevolent Lord Jyscal, and most wise Lord Seymour..."
Tromell's words echoed in Lulu's head as she stood overlooking the Farplane. She couldn't help but remember that day... the day Spira had changed forever. Upon entering Sin, they had encountered Maester Seymour Guado, the young leader of Yevon who had descended into madness, trying to become Sin. They had defeated him, and Yuna danced. She danced as he fell to the ground, clutching at his wounds. "So... it is you after all who will send me. But even after I am gone, Spira's sorrow will prevail." He sounded so calm, yet so sad, as if he truly wanted to end the suffering of the planet. He would never get a chance to, because Yuna continued to dance. His existence faded away into pyreflies, swirls of blue and green, floating into Sin's gray sky.
No one spoke of it, not even Yuna. A burden seemed to have been lifted off her shoulders, yet she still spoke softly and forlorn, as if she knew she was still going to loose something important to her.
Before confronting Yevon himself, the group journeyed together one last time. They returned to the Calm Lands and stood there, overlooking the green plains. They returned to Zanarkand and sat around a campfire again, saying nothing. They traveled back to Guadosalam, and walked slowly to the Farplane, staring at the pink and gold waterfalls... the field of flowers, the never-ending sunset stretching out into oblivion. It was there they encountered Tromell, who was staring at an illusion of an elderly man with a blue beard and wrinkled skin. It was Lord Jyscal, the previous leader of the Guado and Seymour's father. Tromell addressed him formally, and continued to talk to him as if he didn't even notice of the group's presence. He talked about many things, including of Jyscal's son. But Maester Seymour never appeared beside his father. He was sent. By all rights he should have appeared as a projection of pyreflies. But he never did.
Lulu thought she was the only one who caught it. She didn't mention it to anyone, figuring it was a happenstance. But today, less than a year later, the thought crossed her mind again. She had to know the truth. She spun around, her long braids swinging and falling around her shoulders. No one else was on the Farplane. Sighing, she focused her eyes on the never-ending horizon and thought of him.
The pyreflies made no response. Bringing one hand up to rest on her shoulder, she closed her eyes and concentrated. She remembered Luca, the Mi'hen Highroad, and Mushroom Rock. She saw him bow gracefully to her summoner, benign smile on his face. She remembered Macalania, Mount Gagazet... and Bevelle. She saw him reach out with a long-nailed hand, resting it on Yuna's shoulder as he leaned in to kiss her. She remembered Sin and Guadosalam. She saw his mysterious violet eyes, the unnatural shade of his hair, the veins protruding from his forehead, the ebony dragons snaking around his shoulders. She opened her eyes and gasped.
She could see pyreflies dancing in the slight breeze, the crescent shaped waterfall splashing into the green and pink abyss. Yet there was no illusion, no figure, no ghost of him. It could only mean one thing. He was still somewhere in Spira.