Author's Note: Again, sorry about the weeeeird characters last time..maybe
it's the site or maybe my computer's finally hauling back to kick the
bucket (again).
---***---
Seymour drifted in and out of consciousness; when he was lucid, he saw things more as obscure shapes and colors than definite people or objects, heard more in plain noise than in real articulate sound. He saw the fluttering white ovals of the nurse-mages that worked in the infirmary; heard the deep notes of his father's voice but could not understand what they were saying. The other student (Seymour assumed the triangular lumps under the blazing white sheet-shape were their feet) occasionally cried out; people were clustered around him.
He did not know that other student was Aubrey, and that the nurses worried about him because he was in perfect health. The only thing wrong with him was that his eyes had suddenly flooded black, so that when he opened his eyes it appeared as inky as the dead of night underwater during a new moon. In his dreams, Seymour would sink back into that darkness that had overtaken him in his room, perpetually clawing up the sides of the bottomless pit and always failing to regain level footing.
Aubrey twisted the sheets around him; the nurse-mages placed cool hands on his and chanted softly; a bluish glow formed around him and he calmed. They left and hovered over Seymour a bit. Jyscal was sitting next to him, one hand supporting his chin and the other draped over the side of the chair. "Would you like something to drink, Lord Jyscal?" one of them asked.
"No, thank you," he replied, and returned to contemplating his son. Seymour's fingers twitched, and his eyes moved rapidly under the blue- patterned lids. Jyscal watched all this.
"What are you looking at, my son?" he whispered. "What can you see that I cannot?"
---***---
In his mind, Aubrey was pitting his wits against those of a superior being, and was slowly losing.
"How dare you!" he screamed at the wisp of vapor that was the spirit Devali. "Blowing up a dormitory room! Why did you do such a thing?"
The boy, the blue-haired one. He will become an issue in the future.
Aubrey went into a sulking mood. "You could have asked me and I could have had my family hire a mercenary to pick him off."
Devali ignored him. You forget who it is you owe your thanks to for even getting into this miserable school. You are nothing without my help, and I know you are well aware of that. Why else are you the top of your class? Do you honestly think you could do it on your own?
Aubrey shifted (in the real world, he turned over onto his side). "Eliminating potential enemies-"
Future enemies, you brat. The blue-haired one will be a problem in the future, and you must stop him before the destiny he is bound for is too far advanced. Already the hour grows late for us to stop him. It is truly a pity that the spell we used was not strong enough to do more than give him a sound concussion and break some of his bones.
"I want no part in your father's scheming."
Then I will just have to leave and seek a worthier host, will I not? Your family will not be pleased with you, I daresay.
"You presume much, Devali."
I presume nothing. Aubrey felt a psychic blast coming on and tensed up; the blast came, and Aubrey staggered back a pace before glaring back at the spirit now glowing an angry red. Seeing as you are now unconscious in your pathetic plane of existence, I believe I will go and consult my father on our next move. In the meantime, consider where your loyalties lie, Aubrey de Chaim Braeden. Remember, as high as my father and I can put you, that low can we make you fall.
"Don't you run away from me!"
But Devali was already gone. Aubrey closed his mind's eye and opened his real ones - now back to their normal icy blue. The nurse-mages who had come running when he'd twisted from the psychic blast backed away. He sat up.
"Well, I feel all right," he said haughtily. "May I please leave?"
The nurses backed away. One of them nodded tremulously. "Y-yes, Master Aubrey. You m-may."
Aubrey swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood a little shakily, feeling Devali's absence acutely. It was indeed Devali that made him so intelligent and strong, but Aubrey knew he could do things on his own, and was going to go prove that to the (in his opinion) overly confident and arrogant demon.
---***---
Seymour finally woke up for good the next day. He found Yuna and his father at his side, and said hoarsely, "What happened?"
Yuna began talking very fast, and Seymour had her repeat it several times before he got the whole story. Slumping back in the pillows, he muttered, "It was Aubrey."
"Aubrey? Aubrey de Chaim Braeden? Nonsense, he is from a very noble family and he surely would not try to bring trouble to his family."
"But Father," Seymour began earnestly, "It was-"
Jyscal stood, the contemplative mood that had possessed him while his son was unconscious all but gone. "I think you hit your head harder than the nurse-mages thought, Seymour. I suggest you rest a little longer in the infirmary." With that, the Maester swept out of the room, the two guardians that always accompanied him following a pace behind. Seymour smiled weakly at Yuna, who was looking at the door that his father had left through with some trepidation.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "My Father is a Maester. I'm sure he's been under a lot of stress lately."
Yuna climbed up onto the bed, using the chair as a step up. She flopped down next to Seymour, cuddling down into the hollow between his body and the wooden rail on the bed. "Mommy says once you take your exams you can come stay with us until Lord Jyscal tells you where to go."
Seymour nodded in response. "I'd like that."
---***---
Seymour took his exit exams while still in the infirmary. Feeling that he at least managed a passing grade on the worst of them, he packed up what had survived the blast in his room and borrowed one of the chocobos from the Palace's stables.
There seemed to be an awful amount of noise when he reached the city proper. People were dancing in the streets, singing, shouting, laughing, smiling. The whole mood was the opposite of what Seymour had come to know, which could only mean one thing.
"No," he moaned, and tapped the chocobo's sides; the chocobo lunged forward, and plunged through the crowd of people now outside the mansion where Yuna lived. Shoving his way through, Seymour led the chocobo straight into the mansion and closed the door firmly. Running into the formal sitting room reserved for guests, he saw Usoa in tears, watching the sphere monitor that currently displayed the revelry in Bevelle, and all over Spira. A reporter was saying, ".and we owe our eternal thanks to Lord High Summoner Braska. Let us hope that this is the Eternal Calm, ladies and gentlemen!"
Yuna was sitting on one of the cushioned chairs, looking extremely confused. A Ronso with a broken horn stood behind her chair, and his father was across from them. Jyscal looked up as Seymour entered the room. "Seymour-"
Seymour wasn't listening. He ran over to Yuna and gave her a tight hug. She still looked a little confused when he released her. "My daddy...isn't coming home?" Usoa's sobs became more hysterical, and Jyscal patted her on the shoulder.
Seymour, tears in his own eyes, knelt down to eye level and said, "No, Yuna, dear heart. He isn't coming home. He's defeated Sin, given his own life to it."
Yuna started crying; Seymour held her against his chest until his father patted him on the shoulder and said, "Seymour, it's time to go."
He stood, looking indignant. "Aren't we going to stay here and comfort-?"
Jyscal shook his head. "You are going to the Temple. I have...plans for you."
"Father, no!" Seymour looked back at Yuna, crying very quietly on her cushion, and Usoa sobbing her heart out. "Usoa's-"
"It is not our place!" Jyscal's two guardians walked forward, standing behind Seymour. One placed his hand on Seymour's shoulder and pushed him forward. "We have much to do."
Seymour cast a very serious look back at Yuna as he was pushed out of the mansion. "I'll come back, Yuna!" he said. "I promise."
---***---
Seymour drifted in and out of consciousness; when he was lucid, he saw things more as obscure shapes and colors than definite people or objects, heard more in plain noise than in real articulate sound. He saw the fluttering white ovals of the nurse-mages that worked in the infirmary; heard the deep notes of his father's voice but could not understand what they were saying. The other student (Seymour assumed the triangular lumps under the blazing white sheet-shape were their feet) occasionally cried out; people were clustered around him.
He did not know that other student was Aubrey, and that the nurses worried about him because he was in perfect health. The only thing wrong with him was that his eyes had suddenly flooded black, so that when he opened his eyes it appeared as inky as the dead of night underwater during a new moon. In his dreams, Seymour would sink back into that darkness that had overtaken him in his room, perpetually clawing up the sides of the bottomless pit and always failing to regain level footing.
Aubrey twisted the sheets around him; the nurse-mages placed cool hands on his and chanted softly; a bluish glow formed around him and he calmed. They left and hovered over Seymour a bit. Jyscal was sitting next to him, one hand supporting his chin and the other draped over the side of the chair. "Would you like something to drink, Lord Jyscal?" one of them asked.
"No, thank you," he replied, and returned to contemplating his son. Seymour's fingers twitched, and his eyes moved rapidly under the blue- patterned lids. Jyscal watched all this.
"What are you looking at, my son?" he whispered. "What can you see that I cannot?"
---***---
In his mind, Aubrey was pitting his wits against those of a superior being, and was slowly losing.
"How dare you!" he screamed at the wisp of vapor that was the spirit Devali. "Blowing up a dormitory room! Why did you do such a thing?"
The boy, the blue-haired one. He will become an issue in the future.
Aubrey went into a sulking mood. "You could have asked me and I could have had my family hire a mercenary to pick him off."
Devali ignored him. You forget who it is you owe your thanks to for even getting into this miserable school. You are nothing without my help, and I know you are well aware of that. Why else are you the top of your class? Do you honestly think you could do it on your own?
Aubrey shifted (in the real world, he turned over onto his side). "Eliminating potential enemies-"
Future enemies, you brat. The blue-haired one will be a problem in the future, and you must stop him before the destiny he is bound for is too far advanced. Already the hour grows late for us to stop him. It is truly a pity that the spell we used was not strong enough to do more than give him a sound concussion and break some of his bones.
"I want no part in your father's scheming."
Then I will just have to leave and seek a worthier host, will I not? Your family will not be pleased with you, I daresay.
"You presume much, Devali."
I presume nothing. Aubrey felt a psychic blast coming on and tensed up; the blast came, and Aubrey staggered back a pace before glaring back at the spirit now glowing an angry red. Seeing as you are now unconscious in your pathetic plane of existence, I believe I will go and consult my father on our next move. In the meantime, consider where your loyalties lie, Aubrey de Chaim Braeden. Remember, as high as my father and I can put you, that low can we make you fall.
"Don't you run away from me!"
But Devali was already gone. Aubrey closed his mind's eye and opened his real ones - now back to their normal icy blue. The nurse-mages who had come running when he'd twisted from the psychic blast backed away. He sat up.
"Well, I feel all right," he said haughtily. "May I please leave?"
The nurses backed away. One of them nodded tremulously. "Y-yes, Master Aubrey. You m-may."
Aubrey swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood a little shakily, feeling Devali's absence acutely. It was indeed Devali that made him so intelligent and strong, but Aubrey knew he could do things on his own, and was going to go prove that to the (in his opinion) overly confident and arrogant demon.
---***---
Seymour finally woke up for good the next day. He found Yuna and his father at his side, and said hoarsely, "What happened?"
Yuna began talking very fast, and Seymour had her repeat it several times before he got the whole story. Slumping back in the pillows, he muttered, "It was Aubrey."
"Aubrey? Aubrey de Chaim Braeden? Nonsense, he is from a very noble family and he surely would not try to bring trouble to his family."
"But Father," Seymour began earnestly, "It was-"
Jyscal stood, the contemplative mood that had possessed him while his son was unconscious all but gone. "I think you hit your head harder than the nurse-mages thought, Seymour. I suggest you rest a little longer in the infirmary." With that, the Maester swept out of the room, the two guardians that always accompanied him following a pace behind. Seymour smiled weakly at Yuna, who was looking at the door that his father had left through with some trepidation.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "My Father is a Maester. I'm sure he's been under a lot of stress lately."
Yuna climbed up onto the bed, using the chair as a step up. She flopped down next to Seymour, cuddling down into the hollow between his body and the wooden rail on the bed. "Mommy says once you take your exams you can come stay with us until Lord Jyscal tells you where to go."
Seymour nodded in response. "I'd like that."
---***---
Seymour took his exit exams while still in the infirmary. Feeling that he at least managed a passing grade on the worst of them, he packed up what had survived the blast in his room and borrowed one of the chocobos from the Palace's stables.
There seemed to be an awful amount of noise when he reached the city proper. People were dancing in the streets, singing, shouting, laughing, smiling. The whole mood was the opposite of what Seymour had come to know, which could only mean one thing.
"No," he moaned, and tapped the chocobo's sides; the chocobo lunged forward, and plunged through the crowd of people now outside the mansion where Yuna lived. Shoving his way through, Seymour led the chocobo straight into the mansion and closed the door firmly. Running into the formal sitting room reserved for guests, he saw Usoa in tears, watching the sphere monitor that currently displayed the revelry in Bevelle, and all over Spira. A reporter was saying, ".and we owe our eternal thanks to Lord High Summoner Braska. Let us hope that this is the Eternal Calm, ladies and gentlemen!"
Yuna was sitting on one of the cushioned chairs, looking extremely confused. A Ronso with a broken horn stood behind her chair, and his father was across from them. Jyscal looked up as Seymour entered the room. "Seymour-"
Seymour wasn't listening. He ran over to Yuna and gave her a tight hug. She still looked a little confused when he released her. "My daddy...isn't coming home?" Usoa's sobs became more hysterical, and Jyscal patted her on the shoulder.
Seymour, tears in his own eyes, knelt down to eye level and said, "No, Yuna, dear heart. He isn't coming home. He's defeated Sin, given his own life to it."
Yuna started crying; Seymour held her against his chest until his father patted him on the shoulder and said, "Seymour, it's time to go."
He stood, looking indignant. "Aren't we going to stay here and comfort-?"
Jyscal shook his head. "You are going to the Temple. I have...plans for you."
"Father, no!" Seymour looked back at Yuna, crying very quietly on her cushion, and Usoa sobbing her heart out. "Usoa's-"
"It is not our place!" Jyscal's two guardians walked forward, standing behind Seymour. One placed his hand on Seymour's shoulder and pushed him forward. "We have much to do."
Seymour cast a very serious look back at Yuna as he was pushed out of the mansion. "I'll come back, Yuna!" he said. "I promise."