Author's Notes: Depending on how well this is received, I'll keep at it.
Maybe I will anyway; Priestess is starting to creep me out a little.
Methinks me needs a little break, and new music to type by. Don't worry, I
won't drop it completely, I have the next few chapters written, so when it
does update, expect at least two chapters to be up.
---***---
Seymour sat in the Headmaster's office, sulking and gingerly touching the bruises on his face. He was in for fighting, and the Headmaster was now rifling through Seymour's teacher's reports on his conduct in class and trying to look important. Seymour hated this man with a passion, and it was partly due to that fact that he was in here today. He had come up with the perfect plan to give the Headmaster his comeuppance. He just hoped that they did everything on schedule.
Headmaster Brody finally lowered the papers, folded his hands on top of them fastidiously, and looked condescendingly at Seymour, who glared right back. As Headmaster Brody was one to flaunt that his family was pure human, with no taint or tinge of Al Bhed or Guado blood, the fact that Seymour was here at his school irked him endlessly. Seymour had left the school only once, in fact, in the three years that he'd been here, to see Braska and Usoa's second child, a daughter named Ariane. Their five-year- old daughter Yuna had been there, as well.
-*- Flashback -*-
More than a little irritated at being pulled away from the thing he found he was moderatly gifted at, Seymour walked beside his father down the long hallway in Braska's mansion in Bevelle. Outside the door to the older man's room, Jyscal paused and placed a hand on Seymour's shoulder.
"Let me go in first, Seymour," he said. "There is something that I must speak to Braska about."
So Seymour trudged back to the formal sitting room, flopping gracelessly on one of the comfortable overstuffed pieces of furniture and tilting his head back. Hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep, something had had been precious to him after coming to school, Seymour closed his eyes.
A very small, dainty sniffling noise caused him to reopen his eyes. And look right into a pair of mismatched, teary-red eyes- one green, one blue.
Seymour sat up and turned around on the couch, folding his arms and placing his chin on them, at eye level with the little brunette girl whom was very prettily crying behind the couch. "Hullo," he said. "Who're you?"
To his surprise, she glared at him. "Come to fawn over my little sister?" she snapped.
Seymour blinked; he hadn't expected such harsh tones out of such a fairylike little girl. She was wearing a blue dress embroidered with flowers and soft-looking shoes of the same color. "I'm sorry," he said. "My father, Lord Jyscal, wanted to go in and speak with Braska alone. I'm Seymour Guado."
The little girl warily came around and sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. "I'm Yuna."
Seymour smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "You must be unhappy with all the attention going to your sister."
Yuna sniffled again and wiped her eyes. "Yes."
He felt curiously gentle; moving down along the couch, Seymour reached out with a hand tipped with long nails and hugged little Yuna. "I'm sorry. You need to cry, you can cry all you want. I don't mind."
"I'll get your robes all wet."
Seymour smiled. "I don't mind."
-*-End Flashback -*-
Headmaster Brody was clearly remembering Seymour's parentage as well, because he said, "Seymour, here at the Palace School of St. Bevelle, we do not consider one's parents to be of any importance. We place more levity on academia and conduct." And he stressed 'conduct.'
Of course you don't consider my Maester father of any importance, Seymour thought sarcastically. "Really, Headmaster."
"Yes. And as you are well aware, Seymour, we do not allow fighting at our school. Detention for a week, Seymour, and let this firmly imprint upon you that your behavior here is always - bloody hell!"
The papers on his desk had burst into flame. Glancing up, Seymour saw his friend Lulu Konane crawling swiftly back through the system that brought heat in the winter. Since it was summer now, the ducts were unused, but perfect to Seymour's plan. Using a bit of the magic he'd learned while in isolation on Baaj, Seymour cast a Watera spell and put out the flames. Headmaster Brody looked at him with an expression that was a mix of thankfulness, anger, and fear.
"Thank you, Seymour. For that I might find it in my heart to shave off a few days from your punishment.."
Seymour smiled icily. "Thank you, Headmaster."
---***---
At the end of the official school year, when everyone was packing to scatter to their homes across the high-end neighborhoods of Spira's great cities, Seymour stood amist his packed bags, wondering where he would go. His roommate, a humor-loving boy named Felix, had already left earlier that day.
Someone knocked on the door of his dormitory, and Seymour moved over his bags to the door with the grace of a ballet dancer, and opened it. Braska stood there; he was dressed for a journey, long robes belted with a wide belt over a muscled body. Little known was it that Braska had once played for the Besaid Aurochs, early in his teenage years. Now into his early thirties, he was an official summoner and, apparently ready to go on his own pilgrimage.
"Hello, Seymour," he said cheerfully. Seymour had always liked Braska because he was such a counterpoint to Seymour's own father. The older man briefly embraced Seymour, then stepped back. "If you don't mind, Seymour.I want you to stay with Usoa, Yuna, and Ariane. Usoa could use the help, and Yuna hasn't stopped talking about you." Braska's eyes glinted. "I think she's besotted." Seymour laughed - Yuna was eleven years younger than he, from what he'd last heard a sturdy-but-dainty eight year old, and yet he felt something the same towards her. He was sure that she would grow to be a great woman someday.
Braska's mansion was only a little way down the street from the Palace; as he preferred not to put on airs, Braska himself drove the chocobo-drawn town cart to the comfortable-looking residence. Just inside the gate, away from the small courtyard, the gardens grew emerald-green and bright. Braska jumped agilely out of the cart and opened the door, grabbing one of Seymour's bags on the way there. "Usoa!" he called. "We're here!"
Usoa, carrying baby Ariane (who was sucking on the corner of her blanket) greeted her husband with a kiss, and smiled at Seymour, peering up at his face. "You've grown in the past three years. Great Yevon, but you're sky- high! You'll be as tall as Braska I'll wager, and probably taller. I 'spect you're all bones right now?" Usoa spoke in her Kilika-accented speech when important company was not present, and Seymour found it much more comfortable that way. Fetching the rest of his bags, Seymour suppressed a laugh as Usoa admonished three-year-old Ariane for chewing on that nasty blanket.
Declining offers of help, Seymour took his things up to the room he'd be staying in and, ever an organized soul, put things neatly away while pretending not to notice to pair of eyes gleaming at him from behind the en- suite wash room door. Finally, when she could no longer stand it, Yuna popped out from behind the door. "Boo!"
Seymour made a big show of jumping in surprise. "Yuna! You scared me."
She grinned playfully up at him; she was missing two teeth, and had obviously taken some pains with her appearance. She was wearing a pretty pink dress, and had washed and braided her hair, tying it with a pink ribbon. "Hi, Seymour!"
He bent down and accepted the half-stranglehold, half-bear hug that she gave him. "You've grown up, Yuna."
Bouncing back down, she grinned wider, if that was possible. "You're tall."
Seymour laughed and held his hand out for her to take, if she wished. "I know. But I smell dinner, and I'm hun-gry." They went down to dinner together, and Seymour ended up spending the evening playing with Yuna and Ariane, who found it immensely fun to pull on the little tail of hair that hung down his back. Finally, long after the sun had set, Usoa announced to everyone that it was time for bed, and nagged Braska until he did get up and take Ariane to her room and then headed him off to theirs. Seymour was left to get a sleeping Yuna upstairs and into her own bed, carefully tucking the small girl in and kissing her on the forehead. "Good night, Yuna," he said softly, then made his way to his own room and collapsed onto his bed, asleep within seconds.
---***---
Seymour sat in the Headmaster's office, sulking and gingerly touching the bruises on his face. He was in for fighting, and the Headmaster was now rifling through Seymour's teacher's reports on his conduct in class and trying to look important. Seymour hated this man with a passion, and it was partly due to that fact that he was in here today. He had come up with the perfect plan to give the Headmaster his comeuppance. He just hoped that they did everything on schedule.
Headmaster Brody finally lowered the papers, folded his hands on top of them fastidiously, and looked condescendingly at Seymour, who glared right back. As Headmaster Brody was one to flaunt that his family was pure human, with no taint or tinge of Al Bhed or Guado blood, the fact that Seymour was here at his school irked him endlessly. Seymour had left the school only once, in fact, in the three years that he'd been here, to see Braska and Usoa's second child, a daughter named Ariane. Their five-year- old daughter Yuna had been there, as well.
-*- Flashback -*-
More than a little irritated at being pulled away from the thing he found he was moderatly gifted at, Seymour walked beside his father down the long hallway in Braska's mansion in Bevelle. Outside the door to the older man's room, Jyscal paused and placed a hand on Seymour's shoulder.
"Let me go in first, Seymour," he said. "There is something that I must speak to Braska about."
So Seymour trudged back to the formal sitting room, flopping gracelessly on one of the comfortable overstuffed pieces of furniture and tilting his head back. Hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep, something had had been precious to him after coming to school, Seymour closed his eyes.
A very small, dainty sniffling noise caused him to reopen his eyes. And look right into a pair of mismatched, teary-red eyes- one green, one blue.
Seymour sat up and turned around on the couch, folding his arms and placing his chin on them, at eye level with the little brunette girl whom was very prettily crying behind the couch. "Hullo," he said. "Who're you?"
To his surprise, she glared at him. "Come to fawn over my little sister?" she snapped.
Seymour blinked; he hadn't expected such harsh tones out of such a fairylike little girl. She was wearing a blue dress embroidered with flowers and soft-looking shoes of the same color. "I'm sorry," he said. "My father, Lord Jyscal, wanted to go in and speak with Braska alone. I'm Seymour Guado."
The little girl warily came around and sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. "I'm Yuna."
Seymour smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "You must be unhappy with all the attention going to your sister."
Yuna sniffled again and wiped her eyes. "Yes."
He felt curiously gentle; moving down along the couch, Seymour reached out with a hand tipped with long nails and hugged little Yuna. "I'm sorry. You need to cry, you can cry all you want. I don't mind."
"I'll get your robes all wet."
Seymour smiled. "I don't mind."
-*-End Flashback -*-
Headmaster Brody was clearly remembering Seymour's parentage as well, because he said, "Seymour, here at the Palace School of St. Bevelle, we do not consider one's parents to be of any importance. We place more levity on academia and conduct." And he stressed 'conduct.'
Of course you don't consider my Maester father of any importance, Seymour thought sarcastically. "Really, Headmaster."
"Yes. And as you are well aware, Seymour, we do not allow fighting at our school. Detention for a week, Seymour, and let this firmly imprint upon you that your behavior here is always - bloody hell!"
The papers on his desk had burst into flame. Glancing up, Seymour saw his friend Lulu Konane crawling swiftly back through the system that brought heat in the winter. Since it was summer now, the ducts were unused, but perfect to Seymour's plan. Using a bit of the magic he'd learned while in isolation on Baaj, Seymour cast a Watera spell and put out the flames. Headmaster Brody looked at him with an expression that was a mix of thankfulness, anger, and fear.
"Thank you, Seymour. For that I might find it in my heart to shave off a few days from your punishment.."
Seymour smiled icily. "Thank you, Headmaster."
---***---
At the end of the official school year, when everyone was packing to scatter to their homes across the high-end neighborhoods of Spira's great cities, Seymour stood amist his packed bags, wondering where he would go. His roommate, a humor-loving boy named Felix, had already left earlier that day.
Someone knocked on the door of his dormitory, and Seymour moved over his bags to the door with the grace of a ballet dancer, and opened it. Braska stood there; he was dressed for a journey, long robes belted with a wide belt over a muscled body. Little known was it that Braska had once played for the Besaid Aurochs, early in his teenage years. Now into his early thirties, he was an official summoner and, apparently ready to go on his own pilgrimage.
"Hello, Seymour," he said cheerfully. Seymour had always liked Braska because he was such a counterpoint to Seymour's own father. The older man briefly embraced Seymour, then stepped back. "If you don't mind, Seymour.I want you to stay with Usoa, Yuna, and Ariane. Usoa could use the help, and Yuna hasn't stopped talking about you." Braska's eyes glinted. "I think she's besotted." Seymour laughed - Yuna was eleven years younger than he, from what he'd last heard a sturdy-but-dainty eight year old, and yet he felt something the same towards her. He was sure that she would grow to be a great woman someday.
Braska's mansion was only a little way down the street from the Palace; as he preferred not to put on airs, Braska himself drove the chocobo-drawn town cart to the comfortable-looking residence. Just inside the gate, away from the small courtyard, the gardens grew emerald-green and bright. Braska jumped agilely out of the cart and opened the door, grabbing one of Seymour's bags on the way there. "Usoa!" he called. "We're here!"
Usoa, carrying baby Ariane (who was sucking on the corner of her blanket) greeted her husband with a kiss, and smiled at Seymour, peering up at his face. "You've grown in the past three years. Great Yevon, but you're sky- high! You'll be as tall as Braska I'll wager, and probably taller. I 'spect you're all bones right now?" Usoa spoke in her Kilika-accented speech when important company was not present, and Seymour found it much more comfortable that way. Fetching the rest of his bags, Seymour suppressed a laugh as Usoa admonished three-year-old Ariane for chewing on that nasty blanket.
Declining offers of help, Seymour took his things up to the room he'd be staying in and, ever an organized soul, put things neatly away while pretending not to notice to pair of eyes gleaming at him from behind the en- suite wash room door. Finally, when she could no longer stand it, Yuna popped out from behind the door. "Boo!"
Seymour made a big show of jumping in surprise. "Yuna! You scared me."
She grinned playfully up at him; she was missing two teeth, and had obviously taken some pains with her appearance. She was wearing a pretty pink dress, and had washed and braided her hair, tying it with a pink ribbon. "Hi, Seymour!"
He bent down and accepted the half-stranglehold, half-bear hug that she gave him. "You've grown up, Yuna."
Bouncing back down, she grinned wider, if that was possible. "You're tall."
Seymour laughed and held his hand out for her to take, if she wished. "I know. But I smell dinner, and I'm hun-gry." They went down to dinner together, and Seymour ended up spending the evening playing with Yuna and Ariane, who found it immensely fun to pull on the little tail of hair that hung down his back. Finally, long after the sun had set, Usoa announced to everyone that it was time for bed, and nagged Braska until he did get up and take Ariane to her room and then headed him off to theirs. Seymour was left to get a sleeping Yuna upstairs and into her own bed, carefully tucking the small girl in and kissing her on the forehead. "Good night, Yuna," he said softly, then made his way to his own room and collapsed onto his bed, asleep within seconds.