Preaching to the Choir

By: Windchild Sevaji

Rating: R

Warning(s): Yaoi/Shonen-ai, swearing, and angst. Lots and lots of angst.

Summary: Semi-AU. Seymour Guado has always been reviled by the other Guado as a freak, a half breed. That will not change. Fearing what might happen to his son should things get out of hand, Jyscal Guado offers out a position of guardianship for his son, and gets more than he ever bargained for.

A/N: Please note, that this will be Seymour/OC, but it won't be a female OC, and no, it won't be a Gary Stu (I first read that phrase in a Chevira Lowe fanfic, and a Gary Stu is basically the male equivalent of a Mary Sue.) Now, on to my least favorite part…

Disclaimer: As much as I would love to announce to the universe that I own the Final Fantasy series, that would make me a horrid liar and a worse fangirl. So, bugger it all, I don't own it… at least, not yet.

Prologue: Hellish Choir

There was a low hum in Guadosalam. There had been for the past five years. It wasn't coming from the entrance to the Farplane, where the souls of the Sent resided. Nor did it come from the not-too-distant Thunder Plains, which were caught in the heavy embrace of a never-ending storm. No, the hum came from its residents, and the cause was a small boy, of about four years, with resplendently Morning Glory-blue hair and even more startling, almost electric, blue-violet eyes. The boy's name was Seymour, and he was the half-Guado, half-Human son of Maester Jyscal Guado, current leader of the Guado people. And at the moment, he was being cornered by three larger children who, despite their parent's warnings, did not fear the small boy they were accosting.

And there was no reason why they should. Seymour was physically and mentally incapable of hurting them back. He was currently much too small to do them all much damage, and did not want to, being somewhat of a pacifist in his own right. Besides, his mother had always taught him not to let what the others said get to him, and he listened. He knew how the other Guado women envied his mother, all having wanted to be the one to bear his father's children. Of course, that part he didn't understand entirely just yet, and he wouldn't for a long time to come. Now these boys, they were drawing ever-closer to young Seymour, a manic, almost murderous intent in their large, bright eyes, and Seymour flattened himself against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut for the blows. They never came, and he opened his eyes to see his mother's flaring skirts in front of him, looking down at the other children with a look that could only be described as deadly.

"Go home," she said simply to them, voice low, commanding, and yet still gentle. "You shall not harm my son…" They cast her a wary look, and when her eyes narrowed, lightning crackling at her fingertips, they scattered and his mother turned and scooped him up, carrying him back toward their home.

"Mother…" Seymour's voice was quiet against her neck, but she heard him despite that. "Why do they hate us so..?" His mother stopped walking and shook her head.

"They are ignorant. They fear what they do not understand, and they dislike the unfamiliar. But worry not my child. They will not lay so much as a harmful breath upon you while I live…"

"How long will that be Mother..?"

"As long as you need me my child, as long as you need me…"

…Seymour awoke with a start, shaking his head to clear it and then burying his face in his arms. From there, he lifted his head the barest bit and turned to give the photograph at his bedside a pained, hateful glance. His mother's smiling face was contorted into a frightening grimace by the lack of light in his room and his head dropped back into his arms and he merely murmured:

"Liar…"

:End Transmission: