Inside the Zanarkand Dome, Uma was kneeling at the centre of the temple prayer hall, with a long strand of black pearls hanging in between her clasping hands as she hummed orisons that she learned by heart from a range of sacred texts. Dancing in her eyes were a collection of colourful lights that formed a hieroglyph, brightening the shrine that was dedicated to those Worshipped from the sea and sky. When words no longer rolled out from her tongue, she placed the strand around her neck and stood up, never breaking her gaze away from the shrine. She gathered as much air as possible from deep within her lungs and dispelled it with unsteady breath as though she was purging a kind of impurity out of her.
The lights at the shrine changed colour, and so did the hieroglyph. Uma had both of her eyes closed and her legs parted slightly away from one another. A chanting started playing in her head, making her swing her arms gently to the left and then to the right recurrently, while twirling her wrists so her hands would wave with grace. Sporadically, she would skip from one place to another and the tiled floors would scintillate a varied combination of vibrant lights at the touch of her feet.
In due course, she began whirling her body, mildly at first before moving faster and faster when she felt herself becoming lighter. Along with the chanting came the screams of agony in her head for the longevity of her city, for the safety of her husband and her daughter... and for her mental strength that was constantly threatening to crumble. Overburdened by the cloying sensations, her bodily movements abruptly ceased, throwing her against the floor in fits of tears and desperation to clear the heaviness that was pummelling her chest. She wept until she no longer could; until rationality gusted clouds of grief and fury away from inside her head, and until she had resurfaced into reality from drowning under the sea of fatalism.
With eyes dry and sticky from traces of tears, Uma left the temple to navigate through the grand hallways of the Dome, murmuring greetings to passers-by who upheld her presence with courteous nods. Sometimes she saw scribes dashing from one chamber to another, toting stacks of papers in their hands while grumbling about their increasing workload. When the sight picked up her concerns, she hurriedly squashed them by reminding herself that for her sake, her early morning routine should not include meddling in state affairs.
She arrived at her favourite parlour where an attendant was waiting with a tea set and sat onto one of the couches. Here, her eyes would often drift along the walls, staring at a mural of the celestial man with Juggernaut horns on his head dancing with another celestial man who was holding a clay ewer of liquor. As a child, she used to play in this parlour while her father had his regular state meetings with Khal Kharanesh and she would wonder about the excessive bliss that both celestial beings seemed to be in. She would ask, what made them so happy?
The burbling sound of water pulled her back to the attendant who stood in front of her, pouring a drink from the teapot into a cup. "Lady Gilal had this delivered an hour ago. It's tea made of winter cherries harvested from the Sanubia sands. She said it'll be good in calming your nerves, especially during these cold months," the attendant said, handing the cup and its saucer to Uma with utmost care, so as to prevent her hands from touching the hot surface.
Uma drank and felt the warm tingling in her throat and nose, then her head started to spin, not to a point of causing her nausea but strong enough for her to forget where she was. Suddenly she knew what the answer would be to the question that she had frequently asked as a child in the parlour. Her new morning routines that she had been practicing since three months ago brought a sense of stability – a kind of happiness that she craved after years of inner turmoil. After an episode of a massive mental collapse, she sought the services of Gilal, an accomplished White Mage from Besaid, who became like a shrink to her – listening to her grievances and counselling her on how best to maintain her wellbeing. She was told by Gilal to do what she loved best, which was dancing in worship and drinking tea that would drain her from all her anxieties.
"Take better care of yourself. When's the last time you listen to your needs and not of others?" Gilal had admonished her, impressing her mind with words that she needed to hear.
She had seen what it was like for Yaj Yeshe and knew that her state of mind was deteriorating like he once did – Gilal's words helped her realize this. Her new morning routines and side practices made fulfilling her duties in apt periods of time bearable. She could run the day-to-day affairs of the Dome, teach the arts of Summoning to her pupils and Yunalesca, and perform important social roles to the public like she always did again without feeling like she could be swallowed by the earth.
Nonetheless, not all things turned out fine. There was one trouble left that she found most difficult to deal with: she had not spoken to Yevon for three months ever since her alarming psychosis… mostly out of fear that a conversation would hurt both of them – him with guilt, and her with another wave of sorrow and resentment. But the frantic scribes she saw some while ago proved to be too hard to ignore and seemed like a fitting pretext to start confronting her problem with her husband, even if it meant disrupting her usual morning routine.
"I've been witnessing some form of panic going on outside. What's the commotion all about?"
The attendant sighed and sat on an armchair across Uma with eyes downcast. "Lord Yevon has returned with Lord Zaon and Lady Sonam from the Thunder Plains," she said but not with an ecstatic mood one would imagine when there is good news about the safe return of the city's leader and his officials.
"Did our negotiations during the congregation fail?"
"No, my lady… they had been mostly successful," the attendant answered, holding her hands together and taking a huge gulp in her throat. "But there's a problem…"
From outside the parlour, Uma heard the pitter-patter of feet against the concrete floors of the hallway. There were raucous voices speaking, mentioning Yevon's name now and then before they faded away into some faraway chamber.
Uma made her way to the conference hall where she assumed Yevon would be and found him seated at the table with Zaon and Michewah, browsing through sets of papers with scowls on their faces. While everywhere else in the Dome were bustling in a state of frenzy as scribes and attendants scuttled around, running the rumour mill as they worked, the trio sat in terrifying silence as if speaking a word would send them buried alive. But Uma was not one of them… and she had something to say.
"Mind telling me what's happening?" she questioned, closing the door behind her as she walked in.
Yevon looked up from his paper and gaped at her as he spoke, "Uma…" There was a discernible tremble in his voice, perhaps from relief that they were talking again or from worry that a similar unwanted incident from three months ago would occur. "You shouldn't be here…"
"No, I want to be here and I want to know what has happened since the congregation in Thunder Plains," she maintained, moving closer to him so no distance would impede their honesty from each other. Uma understood too well that her health had always been one of his main priorities, which she learned from his habit of keeping things secret from her, lest they invite her wrath. But she knew nothing would be resolved if this goes on between them.
"Very well…" He appeared non-combative and resigned, but managed to meet her intensity with his own. "Zako found out about our plans to combine magic with Machina."
His words struck her like lightning would on a tree. She felt blood rushing to her head and heard the violent crash of sea waves on the shore. Fighting the lump forming in her throat, her words came out of her as though she had been strangled, "Your plans to… what?"
Yevon would not repeat what he said but his gaze on her remained still. She knew then that she did not misheard him – it was true, word by word. Within her, a fire was burning… when dispelled, it came as an almost inhuman growl. Her sanity was unravelling with each passing time. Yevon stretched his arm to try and hold her, but she jolted away, clutching her head in both hands.
Zaon and Michewah were rising from their seats, all set to leave before they were caught in what they saw as an incoming marital dispute, but Uma barred them, shrieking at them to stay. "Bring Yunalesca here," she demanded from Zaon. "She has to be here to discuss this with all of us."
Uma's wrath returned to Yevon and she wanted gravely to pound him with all her might. But something inside her was holding her back, an ounce of reasonableness that was clinging onto the last few threads of her consciousness. It took all her strength and silent meditative chanting of prayers in her head to regain her composure.
"Why are you planning to combine magic with Machina?" Uma eventually probed, struggling to understand the intention behind such a bizarre and dangerous plan even with a head slightly cleared from the steam of anger. "Why do we need all these… weapons and rituals? Are you going to wage wars against the rest of Spira, is that it?"
What have ambitions turned him into? She wanted to ask but afraid to, for she was unprepared to hear what his reasons might be.
Yevon smiled ruefully, "No… we have no such plans, my pearl." He reached out again but this time she let him hold her hands in his. "It's Bevelle who does."
"Bevelle? I know Zako has often overstepped some boundaries but… are you sure this isn't you speaking from your own delusions about him?"
"No… I wish it was," Yevon replied, caressing his fingertips along her palms. She could feel the slight tremors in his touch; the poise he was striving to hold in front of Michewah was breaking for her to see and feel.
Uma tightened her grip around his hands to remind him that she was there. Her husband needed her support as much as she needed his. "Who revealed the news to you?"
"An informant… my lady," Michewah said in his stead. "We'd sent Tashi to infiltrate Bevelle's armed forces."
"Tashi found out that Zako is building a weapon in Bevelle's underground facility with the help of an Al-Bhed… who I suspect to be Seth, the chieftain of the Thunder Plains tribe," Yevon disclosed, glowering at the memory of his recent setback. "There are already talks about planned invasions to put the entire Spira under their control and reforming cities according to their ideals."
Tashi. The name circulated in Uma's mind… until she remembered meeting an enigmatic young man some five years ago who Yevon hired as a scribe, an attendant and also as a member of the armed forces. Finding it peculiar that he held three different roles within the Dome and the Base, something unheard of, she had asked for an explanation from Yevon. He pitched to her about Tashi's abilities and integrity, convincing her that he was fit for all his assigned roles. But just as suddenly as he appeared, he disappeared suddenly too without a trace. Search efforts on his whereabouts conducted under her command turned out fruitless.
"This has been going on for… quite a few years, isn't it? And you knew about it all along. Why didn't you tell me?"
Yevon casted down his eyes. "I didn't want to cause more torture to you, Uma."
"Zako introducing Seth to the rest of Spira means that they're nearing the end of their preparations for the invasion…" she remarked. When their eyes met one another again, she stole a few seconds to mouth to him her gratitude. Beyond the apprehension reflected from his eyes, he managed to return her a smile.
The doors to the hall opened wide, giving entry to both Zaon and Yunalesca; the latter appeared as distressed as her progenitors. "Mother, father… I've heard from Zaon. What are we to do now?"
Uma and Yevon broke their hold and settled at the table with the rest of those who were in the hall. As all eyes fell onto Yevon, he said to them, "I'll appeal to the Guados for support. We need their armed forces to help ours, as well as their access to the Farplane to boost our Machinas. Zaon, Sonam and I will go to Guadosalam before our scheduled visit to Luca."
"That would be a wise move, my lord," Zaon agreed, nodding with Uma who shared similar sentiments.
"But it would be futile, father," Yunalesca demurred. "The Guados are known for their disposition to side with those they considered more powerful."
"I am with Lady Yunalesca," echoed Michewah, enfolding her hands together on the table. Her hooded eyes stared coolly at Yevon as she added, "Besides, if you fail to gain their support, they would still have your admission that we are harnessing Machinas with magic, which could potentially expedite Bevelle's plans and assault."
Yevon squared his shoulders, growing tense over clashing views at the table that he must all deliberate… Still, he only had one answer, "I understand your concerns, daughter and Lady Michewah. But securing the support of the Guados is vital if we want to win against Bevelle."
"If that is your wish, my lord… then I'll say no more," Michewah concurred.
"Have you spoken to Gul about this?" Uma asked, leading thoughts at the table to solutions that can be derived from arrangements with the Al-Bheds.
"I did and she assured me that she'll speak to the other Al-Bhed tribes," Yevon said but his demeanour was nowhere optimistic. "But to tell you the truth, I hold the least faith in the success of their dialogue, if there is to be one…"
No one spoke afterwards, for his statement could not be disputed. Zaon intruded the silence with a scheme of his own, "We should arrange for a meeting with other cities too as soon as we return from Luca. If we fail at Guadosalam, at least we'll have support from other cities… if we succeed, then there'll be more advantages for us."
Yevon leaned his back against his chair and briefly shut his eyes, "Yes, I think so too." When he reopened them, he was now looking at the map of Spira that his mind had drawn on the ceiling. "We'll need to convene with Besaid and Kilika… but we need to be discreet."
"I think… I know who to talk to," Uma said as a profile came up in her thoughts. She turned to look at Yunalesca with a smile, "Rest assured. We'll arrange the meetings."