(I suggest listening to the Song of Prayer whist reading this- don't ask why)

She was dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead…

No matter how many times he told himself he could not believe it.

They had recovered Averus. He was badly wounded, and his family had been sent word in Luca of his impending death. Even now, Luca Goer's fans were lighting candles outside Jyscal's mansion where he lay - the symbol of a hero. When he was finally sent, they would be extinguished.

So much death…

He could not think of a single reason that they deserved to die. Touka, a simple fisherman; loyal, honest and caring… The Lady Belgemine, who was simply beautiful… Kind, courageous, helpful and strong… yet no match for Sin… and Behelkhia. Behel was dead… the only person who could ever understand, gone… and unsent, also. Someone like Behel could not have accepted death no matter how much she wanted to… she would have become a fiend.

He could feel the tears start to fall down his face. What could Zanarkand have done all those years back to deserve this? Slowly, the world was being destroyed… and the lives of those who survived were made unbearable by sorrow.

He walked up to the entrance of the Farplane and looked at it wistfully. How many in there had died at the hand of Sin? Hundreds of thousands at least. And what for? So the cycle could begin again… and again…

"Excuse me Sir, but who do you remember?"

He looked behind him to see a beautiful young woman clad all in white. Although he was slightly taken aback at her question, he decided to tell her. "I remember many people, Lady" he said softly, turning back to the entrance. "My mother, Lady Belgemine, Touka… but mostly her…"

"Who is 'her'?"

He smiled softly as the name formed on his lips. "Behelkhia." He savoured it, remembering how beautiful it had sounded when she first uttered it…

"Tell me more about this 'Behelkhia'"

He bit his lip. Softly, slowly, he started to tell the woman.

"She… was a half-Ronso. She hated it. Many people have great reasons to want to face Sin, but not her… she just couldn't stand being what she was…I believe she thought nobody cared for her. She was wrong, though. I cared so much… She taught me so much about myself. I had been afraid of the world for so long, but she took me by the hand and showed me there was nothing to fear. I just… wish she were here so I could tell her how I felt… how I feel…"

The woman came before him, a single tear falling down her face. She pushed her long black hair away from her, revealing her face… so familiar…

"I once knew a man. He never knew how much I cared for him, because I could never say it… in life, I did not realise how I cared… only in death did I realise I had so much to lose..."

He looked again at her… her eyes… darkest blue, like the moonflow at midnight…

"Behel? It… can't be…"

The woman lay one finger over his mouth as the tears ran down onto her hand. "Don't talk. Not now… let me tell you why I'm here…

You are probably wondering why I look like this. When I died, I chose the form I would take for the rest of eternity…"

Seymour looked into her eyes. They were the same dark blue, only now they were framed in soft black lashes, accented by pure snow skin. "You are more beautiful than ever, Behelkhia"

She let out a small cry as the tears ran faster down her face. "I was never beautiful, Seymour. I was ugly, beyond ugly. Hideous. Deformed. Nothing more than a freak…"

Those thoughts reverberated through his head… was it merely a few days since those thoughts had haunted him?

"I… I used to think that about myself, Behel. But then you came and I felt for the first time that I meant something! Don't you see? When we have each other we are never alone…"

He stopped as soon as he saw the pained look on her face. He knew why she looked so pained.

"You… you're going to leave me, aren't you?"

"No!" she cried, holding him in a close embrace. "I will never leave you. You are part of me, Seymour, and I hope I am part of you. We must… part for now, that is all."

He squeezed her tightly, choking on the words as he said them. "My father can send you, if that is what you want"

She pulled away and looked into his eyes. "I need to be sent Seymour. You understand, don't you?"

"Why can't you stay here with me? You can remain unsent; no one need know it's you-"

"Seymour! Let me go! You have so much left to give to this world. I do not. It's really that simple. However, there are… things which need to be said …"

She handed him a small blue orb. "This is my sphere" she said smiling. "I hope you can treasure it, like I treasured our time together."

Seymour looked into her eyes. He couldn't think straight. "You… why do you want to leave, Behel?"

She smiled slightly at his innocence. "It's not like that, Seymour. When you're in limbo you feel… exhausted, tired. I need to rest. And I need to stop haunting you"

She stood away from him and stared at the seal of the Farplane. "Let me rest, Seymour."

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his father's calm and soothing eyes. "It is alright son. I know what I must do."

Seymour looked round to see every Guado in the town standing, holding candles.

He did not have the words to say what it meant to him.

He gently touched Behel's shoulder. "We are ready, Behel. Are you?"

She turned and smiled at him. "I am ready. Thank you. Thank you all."

Seymour stepped away into the crowds of Guado's. He spotted little Lombardi in the front, mesmerised at his candle… so young an innocent about the harshness of the world. He lifted the tearful child onto his shoulder and then began to sing.

"Ieyui

Nobomeno

Renmiri

Yojuyogo

Hasatekanae

Kutamae"

Gradually, all of the Guado's joined him, and his father began the sending. He continued to watch her as the pyreflies gradually increased in number, drowning her.

Finally she faded into nothingness. At that moment, a hundred candles all burned out.