Seymour Guado sat reclined against one of the decaying walls of the Baaj
Temple, his eyes half closed. Every day was the same. Each day was agony.
Over a year he had stayed in his destroyed childhood home, every day he
could do nothing but wait, wait for the death that did not come. He had
attempted to take his own life, yet he could not die. But then why had the
sending not worked?
Sin had been defeated. He knew of it. He had heard it from the shadows, as he had moved from place to place until he finally reached the temple. It was funny how things turned out... how your life could suddenly change. How you could go from being one of the most well known persons in Spira to being a spectre without a name. It was his own fault, and there was nothing he could do to make amends. He could not change the past, nor could he clear his name. He had sinned terribly. He was obsessed with death, taking lives one by one as if it was a game. And yet now, in an ironic turn of fate, he was the one who longed for death, a death that had slipped through his fingers.
No one knew that he was still on Spira. Everyone knew Lady Yuna had performed a sending, and he had disappeared into the pyreflies. Due to his new hated reputation, no one had bothered to pray on the Farplane to his image. He was alone, and it was driving him mad. He longed to talk to someone, but there was no one left. Even the spirit of his mother was sent. Sometimes he would travel down to the Chamber of the Fayth, kneel and pray to her, wishing for her to forgive him. For even she had regarded him as the enemy, joining forces with the Summoner and her guardians.
Thinking about this all was a routine he painstakingly went through every day. What else was there to do... but think? He closed his eyes, wishing that the darkness would envelop him, returning him to nothingness. In his concentration, he barely noticed a the faint sound of footsteps that weaved their way into his eardrum.
He paused for a moment, then opened his eyes. When his vision came to, he saw a cluster of belts buckled together for a skirt, leading up to a gray dress and corset. Her pale, bare shoulders were hunched forward, a sneer glaring at him through beautifully molded features. He recognized the face. But why was she here...?
"What are you doing here?" he asked softly, closing his eyes again. There was no point in opening them. Yevon must have found him. He would be captured, and probably killed. That is, if he was capable of death.
"What am I doing here?" she asked coldly. "You're supposed to be on the Farplane."
"There are some things no one can explain, milady." He tilted his head back, his eyes still closed. "Tell your superiors to kill me quickly. Try to, at least."
"What are you talking about? I came alone," she snapped.
Seymour opened his eyes. "Then why are you here?" he asked. "How did you find me?"
"Do you even know who I am?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"One of Lady Yuna's guardians. The black mage. Such powerful magic from such a delicate individual."
She ignored his comment and instead answered his question, her snide undertone returning. "You didn't appear on the Farplane. I knew you were somewhere in Spira. I figured you would be here. I came alone, in case I was wrong. But right now, I want to know WHY you're here. If you're planning on trying to destroy-"
"Please, I do not wish anyone harm. I am a broken man. There is nothing I can do for myself, there is nothing I wish to do to anyone else."
He thought he saw her grimace slightly soften. He wasn't sure if she believed him or not. Even if she did, there was no way he could gain her trust, or make her no longer hate him. It was too late for that. It was too late for anyone to cease hatred of him.
But the black mage did something unexpected. She sank down, sitting across from him, still keeping quite a distance. "So..." she began, tilting her head condescendingly. "Tell me your story."
Sin had been defeated. He knew of it. He had heard it from the shadows, as he had moved from place to place until he finally reached the temple. It was funny how things turned out... how your life could suddenly change. How you could go from being one of the most well known persons in Spira to being a spectre without a name. It was his own fault, and there was nothing he could do to make amends. He could not change the past, nor could he clear his name. He had sinned terribly. He was obsessed with death, taking lives one by one as if it was a game. And yet now, in an ironic turn of fate, he was the one who longed for death, a death that had slipped through his fingers.
No one knew that he was still on Spira. Everyone knew Lady Yuna had performed a sending, and he had disappeared into the pyreflies. Due to his new hated reputation, no one had bothered to pray on the Farplane to his image. He was alone, and it was driving him mad. He longed to talk to someone, but there was no one left. Even the spirit of his mother was sent. Sometimes he would travel down to the Chamber of the Fayth, kneel and pray to her, wishing for her to forgive him. For even she had regarded him as the enemy, joining forces with the Summoner and her guardians.
Thinking about this all was a routine he painstakingly went through every day. What else was there to do... but think? He closed his eyes, wishing that the darkness would envelop him, returning him to nothingness. In his concentration, he barely noticed a the faint sound of footsteps that weaved their way into his eardrum.
He paused for a moment, then opened his eyes. When his vision came to, he saw a cluster of belts buckled together for a skirt, leading up to a gray dress and corset. Her pale, bare shoulders were hunched forward, a sneer glaring at him through beautifully molded features. He recognized the face. But why was she here...?
"What are you doing here?" he asked softly, closing his eyes again. There was no point in opening them. Yevon must have found him. He would be captured, and probably killed. That is, if he was capable of death.
"What am I doing here?" she asked coldly. "You're supposed to be on the Farplane."
"There are some things no one can explain, milady." He tilted his head back, his eyes still closed. "Tell your superiors to kill me quickly. Try to, at least."
"What are you talking about? I came alone," she snapped.
Seymour opened his eyes. "Then why are you here?" he asked. "How did you find me?"
"Do you even know who I am?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"One of Lady Yuna's guardians. The black mage. Such powerful magic from such a delicate individual."
She ignored his comment and instead answered his question, her snide undertone returning. "You didn't appear on the Farplane. I knew you were somewhere in Spira. I figured you would be here. I came alone, in case I was wrong. But right now, I want to know WHY you're here. If you're planning on trying to destroy-"
"Please, I do not wish anyone harm. I am a broken man. There is nothing I can do for myself, there is nothing I wish to do to anyone else."
He thought he saw her grimace slightly soften. He wasn't sure if she believed him or not. Even if she did, there was no way he could gain her trust, or make her no longer hate him. It was too late for that. It was too late for anyone to cease hatred of him.
But the black mage did something unexpected. She sank down, sitting across from him, still keeping quite a distance. "So..." she began, tilting her head condescendingly. "Tell me your story."