To Love & Lost

Chapter 4: Between Waking & Dreaming

(Warning(s]: T, dissociation, intense battle]


It was several moments before Yuna was able to calm this time around, shuddering as Seymour held her closely to his chest. Even if he wasn't truly alive, the calming thrum of the Farplane itself was enough to anchor her down again. Simply the strength of him being there, the scent that was so calming, the sensation of someone bodily shielding her from these terrors...even if all she could do was numbly blink and breathe away that night's terror, it was enough. Blearily did Yuna finally and gently extricate herself from Seymour's arms, the man coaxing her back to the softness of the waiting bed roughly tousled from the night, but still better than wheezing roughly while being upright. The former maester did his best to make her comfortable, she watching his face drawn so seriously while doing something tender, of the sort no one else had seen of him before. Almost as if someone else had taken over his body.

"Are you well enough to speak, Yuna?" he asked after her gently, the sheets and quilt having been pulled over her person enough to blanket her from the worst of her own cold, it difficult to recoup without someone so near. When she blearily shook her head, Seymour sighed. "You need water. That much I can do."

As his back retreated towards the small galley adjacent to his bedroom, her gaze shifted out the window where it was still dark, opaque white curtains translucent and bleeding in the outside, colorful lights like ink stains on parchment. It was calming, almost as if pyreflies were drifting past. Yuna still didn't know what to make of the vision. Did Zaon really know of Yunalesca's death? Maybe they'd met in the Farplane. Even after he nearly had tried to kill her, Yuna couldn't bring herself to blame him for it. He loved Yunalesca more than anything. And she'd been the one whom had slain her, alongside her guardians years before.

When Seymour returned, he had both a glass of water and bowl of steaming soup, both set on the nightstand flanking the bed. Yuna motioned for the water, a glass she was able to procure and drink from herself. When she set it aside, her thirst slaked, could she finally speak. "I saw Lord Zaon," she began, sat up and with her hands clasped on her lap. "He tried to kill me by suffocating me to death."

Seymour sat at her bedside in an instant, expression grim but concerned. "Let me see," he ordered firmly, brushing away her mousy brown hair and tilting her neck just enough, Yuna visibly wincing and he frowning deeply. "There are marks, and they will only bruise darker."

When his inspection concluded, Yuna re-affixed her hair. "It's not a dream. It just can't be," she murmured, numbly touching the pads of her fingers against the bruises still tender, skin smarting with a sting enough to bring tears to her eyes. But, what was a reflexive reaction became fueled by her emotions. Her shoulders began to shake, throat closing and her eyes became helplessly blurred and burned with their sensation. "It's real, it's all real! He...he could've killed me," Yuna sobbed brokenly, burying her face in her hands. Everything hurt. Everything was too real… Sin she could fight. This? How on earth was she supposed to fight in her dreams?

"I won't let them. Not when we know what this is. I won't let them harm you," Seymour vowed in a harsh murmur, jaw set and temple throbbing. His long nails dug into his skin as his hands clenched into fists. Yuna heard him, tepidly lifting her gaze enough to look at him through even her choked sobs.

The man softened upon seeing her, cupping her face in his elongated hand, leaning near and swiping away some of her tears with his thumb. Yuna bit her lip to keep the worst of the sobs at bay, but he shook his head. "You can be vulnerable with me, Yuna. Please...do not hold yourself back." She didn't understand. His voice sounded so sincere, even through her pain, she could tell. They were like opposites, but could read each other so well. Was this real, the way he was looking at her? Through the High Summoner's daughter, through High Summoner Yuna, through the Gullwing and priestess—he was looking at her, truly. Not the woman he'd wanted through his obsession. It felt so surreal, like gazing over the edge of that platform in the Farplane back in Guadosalam. Was this just another dream? She couldn't tell. But...this was kindness. This was what her heart had been aching for.

So, she did. Her face crumpled and she sobbed harder than she had in so long into his shoulder. If this was a dream, she'd awaken soon. That much was certain, wasn't it?


When Yuna had finally emerged through the worst of her catharsis, Seymour lent her his bathroom and she scrubbed herself down as much as she could in the shower, changing into a new dress and trappings that made her feel rejuvenated. The soup was lukewarm by the time she got to it, made no doubt by Seymour, but she heartily slurped it down until not even a drop was left. She'd been so preoccupied that she'd underestimated her own hunger, that much was for certain. By the time she was done, the sunrise was just barely peering over the horizon and outcropping of stately edifices crowning the high walls that guarded the city, even though not a wink of sleep had been missed. She'd likely feel the effects later, however.

Seymour was found in the living room pouring over old parchment when he lifted his head in acknowledgment, lowering it and smiling tiredly at her. A rare allowance, but Yuna found herself relaxed enough to proffer a small smile back, sinking next to him on the couch soundlessly.

"It's unmistakable that your night terrors are evidence of your strange new connection to Sin. Of how your consciousness is being channeled into it when you sleep. The question is how this might be assuaged," Seymour stipulated thoughtfully, glancing speculatively at the smaller woman. Yuna looked pensive, staring blankly at the grains within the vibrantly painted coffee table before them.

"Defeating Sin, ultimately," Yuna said softly, gaze remaining unbroken. Seymour regarded her and the heaviness that weighed like an oppressive cloud, but his expression was indiscernible even if it didn't catch Yuna's eye immediately. "What do you think, Seymour?"

"Sir Auron was able to sojourn to Dream Zanarkand as an Unsent and live there for ten years, transported by Sin itself, was he not? Yuna, there stands a possibility that I may be able to journey to your dreams with you, even if only to make sense of them myself. The link should prove to be enough of a bridge to facilitate it," Seymour reasoned, turning an undulating gold sphere distractedly in his hands.

That seemed to garner her attention, hope present in those mismatched eyes. "Do you really think it could work?"

"It's our only theory so far. And Yuna," he trailed off, gazing with unremitting tenderness at her that elicited a faint blush, leaning nearer to her. Enough that her senses became flooded by him, only without the terror that had obfuscated them before. Their eyes were locked, nostrils flooded with his scent, his warmth permeable in waves. Seymour leaned in close enough to kiss, barely inches away from her lips even as Yuna's face heated up even more intensely. "...I will not have you face this alone. If I am to truly be your guardian, I must be willing to make the appropriate self-sacrifices. Even if it means losing myself to Sin."

Oh.

Yuna's face became suddenly very crestfallen, unable to meet his eyes as she became torn apart by her own conflict. If they went through with this, Sin could possibly absorb him? She remembered the last time she'd finally sent him. Not a word had been said, and her heart had already been occupied by Tidus. But, this...she felt so rotten. Like she was betraying her own heart. Seymour was willing to sacrifice himself, and yet, something in her didn't want it to come to that. That he'd filled an important role, one that would be strange to be without. Through the weeks, through these days, things had changed. Even if she couldn't put a name to what it was, she couldn't deny that a small fraction of her needed him.

"...I don't want to lose you," she admitted forlornly, at a loss. Those were words that the rest of her guardians would be scandalized to hear, and that realization her flush sharply in shame. Seymour's eyes widened and he was admittedly taken aback, but he otherwise looked composed, keeping his true sentiments guarded—under a lock and key only he possessed. "As my guardian, you can't to lose to Sin!"

That made him smile enigmatically; the same, frustrating sort that made it impossible to tell what he was truly thinking. "I can only honor your wishes as best I can, Lady Yuna. As a proper guardian ought." Even though her willpower and displays of strength had been what enamored him to her all those years ago, here it only made Yuna feel bitter at the distance it'd placed between them again. Of how that order starkly reminded them of the formal niches they occupied, of the gulfs that spanned between them. Even if he hadn't meant to offend her, she couldn't help but think of what a bitter mistake had been made. That it wasn't him she was concerned about, but the role of a guardian he filled.

Brows furrowing, Yuna rose with a coldness on her shoulders from the couch, the depression she'd made quickly filling as if she hadn't been there at all. "Thank you, Seymour, for what you've done tonight. I'm going to return with the news," Yuna informed him with a meager, but formal intonation. It felt so wrong! Why did this feel so wrong?

She didn't know. Her mind too stressed from two sleepless nights, she wordlessly departed from Seymour's quarters without so much as another word.


The nest few days proceeded like the last. This time, Yuna called for private meetings with the Spiran Council heads—predictably Baralai, Nooj, and Gippal—as they embarked on a day-long conference to discuss their findings. Though Yuna was beyond exhausted, everyone was mindful not to comment on the priestess' condition, of the bags beginning to form beneath her eyes, of the slight redness taken to the coronas. Rikku, especially, had hammered that much into Gippal's skull not to remark on, and so far he hadn't.

"Yunie, you need to slow down. You're stretching yourself way too thin," her cousin ventured with concern, the conference on recess for the next few minutes whilst everything discussed was being furiously recorded by secretaries that had been present.

Yuna could only shake her head weakly despite sinking tiredly into a wooden stool just outside the meeting venue, Rikku hovering protectively nearby in spite of the looks some wandering acolytes exchanged with them, gossip that would likely spread like wildfire. "I can't rest. The people need me, Rikku, and if they still think I'm to blame then I just have to make things right. No matter the cost."

Before Rikku could even think of interjecting, a bell was rung and they were summoned back inside. Yuna flanked Baralai while Nooj took the head of the circular table, Gippal to his left while sphere recorders and transcribers were at the ready. Just as all had been seated, a mighty tremor shook the conference room, lambasting them with a disorienting vibration that rocked them all. "Baralai, go see what this is! There's something attacking Bevelle Palace!" Nooj bellowed above the cacophony, standing sharply and grabbing for his cane before it could be displaced. However, another barrage and he tripped and collapsed to the ground.

"Hey, hang on there, Nooj! Can't die on us yet," Gippal swore beneath his breath as he gathered Nooj up to dangle an arm over his shoulder, hefting the prone man enough to use his younger friend as a crutch. "Lady Yuna, Rikku, I think we all know what this is!"

"Sin!" Yuna and Rikku said in unison, exchanging resolved, grim looks.

"We have to find the others. Then, we have to go to Saint Bevelle's," Yuna said, hastily checking her equipment, equipping her Heart Reborn garment grid with the Floral Fallal inevitably linked. They would need their strongest trump cards, she knew. The floor at their feet vibrated, displacing their steps and causing dizziness, but Yuna wouldn't allow it to disorient her.

"Yunie, there's no time! They're just gonna have to find us," Rikku replied urgently as Yuna took her by the arm and they located a mechanized stairwell that was disabled from the assault, rushing headlong up it.

They suddenly screamed in tandem as the platform that would've been situated in the portal at the epicenter of the conical stairwell plunged downwards, clipping off an enormous chunk of the stone platform that Yuna happened to be standing on. The priestess yelped out in shock as she fell back, only to be caught by the hand by Rikku who hauled her up. Dousing her in one of her alchemic medleys, she felt much better than before. "Thank you," Yuna thanked in exasperation, glancing back into the fathomless hole that gaped in their wake. Swallowing thickly, they resumed their mad dash upwards again.

The open air of Bevelle greeted them with a deceptive zephyr, the horizon to the east completely consumed by the silhouette of Sin, its enormous snout blotting out the sun like it was a solar edifice itself. The sun had long since set, lingering pastels on the horizon, and was cloudless. It made the sight of the airborne tyranny all the more stark. From the city below did terrified cries fill the twilight with horror, Yuna swallowing down deeply. She brandished her Nirvana, Rikku taking her own battle stance and poised to shift between her dresspheres.

However, just before Yuna could think to activate her own grid's nodes, Seymour emerged from an opposite egress and sprinted towards them with surprising alacrity, alighting to Yuna's side. "Yuna, come! You are not strong enough to face it this way. There is another!" Though she gaped at him in surprise, Yuna's hand was taken and she was jerked back, Rikku following in suit only out of the split decision.

Once sheltered past the portico and near the spiral staircase they'd exited from, Seymour released Yuna and gravely addressed both women. "The only hope we have in staggering it is through that link, Yuna. You must fall asleep and I must accompany you in order for us to face it," Seymour explained over the roars of Sin, almost as if it were indignant at them for absconding temporarily from the battle.

"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what that could do to her?" Rikku railed, glancing furtively back outside.

"We have no choice!" Seymour snapped, causing Rikku to balk defensively. "If you wish to be useful, guard the entrance against sinspawn. Yuna will need you to while she sleeps." Hurriedly, he removed his cloak and motioned for Yuna to lay on her back, which she obediently did. For once, he was right. They couldn't fend off Sin alone, and as last time had proved, the only way would be to hit it from the inside. Without an aeon to host Yu Yevon, they couldn't fall back on former tactics. There really was no other way.

A spell to induce sleep was cast, and as it befell her, she could swear Seymour murmured that he would join her soon after. With the connection made, the terrain was different. A shade of Zanarkand sprawled before them; Dream Zanarkand in pristine condition, like it had been. Even though part of her belatedly wondered if Tidus had been absorbed with Sin, she knew it was foolish to search, and even more foolish to hope. If the aeons hadn't returned, who's to say he had? Though her heart twisted, she suddenly felt more alone than she ever had. As if a wintry coldness held her in its unforgiving clutches.

However, Seymour's manifestation suddenly lifted that pall as he materialized just paces away, a disjointed look settling on his visage before he sighted Yuna and strode protectively near. "I see this has been your dream state? ...How terribly real it is." Yuna could only nod absently before he began walking in tow of her, neither knowing where to go except forwards. "Do you know what we should be looking for?"

"I...don't know," Yuna confessed, glancing at Seymour in confusion. "The dreams always changed. People came and left, some at the time of death, thinking they were still alive. I saw Luzzu several nights before, and..." She sighed heavily, the encounter still having rent a deep mark in her heart. One of failure, of how many souls died because of Sin and continued to be tortured because of how directionless they were. Seymour nodded and guided her by the small of her back, she listlessly going along with it. Being in Sin reminded her of how alone she really was.

The scenery began to oscillate and change, both pausing as the worn path at their feet became a vibrant pool of myriad lights, Yuna agape in wonder before she looked up, remembering the initial scenery from the sphere Seymour had shown her in their first true meeting. Highways crossed above, arches of water scintillating higher still whilst interminable buildings like tiered saucers soared over them, boxing them in among the throngs of people that canvassed the thoroughfares. Yuna's chest tightened when she remembered that Tidus had promised to take her here, even if it was all just a dream that deserved to be put to rest. Her hand clutched at her breast, glancing down. Seymour noticed, brows furrowing in concern.

"Let's try the stadium. I think we might find something there," Yuna suggested automatically, heart thundering in her chest. If this was really Tidus' Zanarkand, then maybe he'd be here. If not… No. She didn't want to think that far ahead.

Seymour never objected, following in silent retinue.

The journey there was boisterous and loud, Seymour and Yuna passing through like ghosts in spite of the people that clamored bodily around them. All she could think about was Tidus, of the anxiety that tightened in her chest. She couldn't tell if it was induced by delirium, but here she clung tighter than ever to his memory, fervently hoping. Once or twice, Seymour almost lost her. But, he didn't. When they came to the stately facade of the stadium, the rabble pushed harder through, the blare of announcers and horns from initial games played sounded loudly, making her head throb.

"You gotta ticket, lady? Cuz we ain't got much seats left," the man manning the box office lazily said to her as they came to it, Yuna looking desperate even for her.

"East block, in the front row, fifth from the right. Please—do you have it? I have to sit there, I just have to! I'll pay anything!" she pleaded, tears bubbling in her eyes as she fished through her pockets, pouring out more Gil than it honestly cost, but the man's shocked expression at her emotive display and outpouring of Gil caused him to glance furiously around to make sure others wouldn't see.

"Alright, alright! You got the seat. Tickets for two?" he amended, glancing offhandedly at Seymour. "Sheesh, crazy-ass fangirls." Printing and passing along the tickets, Yuna snatched them and dashed inside the stadium, not even bothering to wait for Seymour.

Hastily did she find her seat, wincing as the wave of light washed over them from the jolt of electricity, reflecting brightly from her face and causing her heart to race faster—but not from excitement. More of a nauseating mix of dread and anticipation, terrible enough on their own. As the sphere of water became steadily filled, the holographic field alighted in the water, much to the fans' zeal. Yuna stopped short when she saw the Zanarkand Abes' symbol on the scoreboard, heart hammering into her throat by now.

Both teams entered the field with great fanfare, Yuna's hands clammy as they wrung together and her mismatched eyes were practically unblinking as she scanned every person she could find, Seymour seated dully beside her and watching her intently instead. Suddenly, and totally by surprise, a familiar head of spiky hair and tanned skin, in black shorts and boots, shot into view with the alacrity of a hypello. Yuna gasped sharply and felt her legs practically wobble into jello. With shuddering hands she tucked her forefinger and thumb in a familiar motion against her teeth, tearing up and feeling those tears cascade warmly down her cheeks. She blew, hard, sputtering at first and quiet before it gathered strength, as loud as it could be.

Through her tears, the blond slowly pivoted towards her in the water, and she could almost collapse to her knees. They locked eyes and Yuna's breath hitched in her throat, scrubbing away the tears that congested her vision.

"It's not him. I'm sorry, Yuna," Seymour apologized, no look of crowing triumph on his features to speak of.

Her fingers trembled as they left her lips, knees knocking together. Some within the crowd murmured speculatively, spreading with mentions of Lenne resounding loudest of all. But, Yuna didn't care. She didn't care about resembling the past songstress and any other connotations they could attach to her. That wasn't Tidus. It was Shuyin, and it broke her heart knowing he was so impossibly far from her. Almost like before.

"Yuna!" came Seymour's authoritative demand to attention, breaking her from her mournful rapture. Through her tears, Yuna fell silent. All activity within the stadium ceased, everyone except them frozen. She, Seymour, and Shuyin. The man had become enshrouded in a hazy pall of fog, his teammates and opponents swimming past obliviously, even if none of them could really see him. Her Nirvana manifested, true and thrumming energetically. Seymour's own staff manifested, just in time as Shuyin began to twist and contort. His shadowy form extended outwards, taking upon a twisted appearance. An echo of Vegnagun, growing taller and higher until it consumed the volume of the very stadium itself.

As Seymour had been able to, the souls trapped in time became absorbed in an enormous, wailing morass of pyreflies. Seymour pulled Yuna protectively behind him, the priestess unable to mourn any longer. Though her face was streaked red from tears, eyes puffy and red, it wouldn't stop her from fighting. "He looks like Vegnagun!" Yuna shouted above the whirlpool of chaos, the blitzball arena shattering like glass and dousing them with water.

Nodding tersely, Seymour wasted no time in a preemptive strike, casting a Thundaga Fury, five successions of the spell cast upon the machina—thankfully far less to scale with the original. Fruitful, each blow critically barraged Shuyin, causing him to cry out in a robotic burst of static, likely pain. "It seems weak to the electric element!" he called over the chaos towards Yuna, as its animatronic limbs tore apart several struts that brought a shower of debris and fatal rubble raining upon them. "We must leave! To continue the battle here would imperil us!"

"Right!" Yuna affirmed strongly. Rapidly did they navigate through the base of the stadium, emerging through the other side which promised to lead away from its confines, a large space even like that claustrophobic when compared to the sheer enormity of their foe. Yuna was panting by the time they'd finally paused, enough to see the stadium loom over them from a widely projected pier, study enough for them but far enough away from the treacherous battle. However, steel groaned and screamed as Shuyin punched through the exterior, the superstructure bowed as more supports were blown clean into the enormous lake the machina city was situated upon. From afar, the city was so idyllic and almost heavenly, a nocturnal cityscape that shone starry from afar. The paradise they still only dreamed of.

"Ready yourself!" Seymour called as the walled embankment and archaic superstructure collapsed in a calamitous wave of water, surging towards them and just barely avoiding a harsh brunt of that which was trapped in the wave. Shuyin roared guttural and long, emerging with vengeful direction towards them. Yuna set herself a few paces away as the Floral Fallal was invoked. Whilst the enormous, violet hibiscus bloomed with her inside, Seymour smiled grimly.

From the waters did Mortiorchis emerge, the construct like the anatomy of an ear's innards whilst Seymour hovered in the air, electricity spanning between him and the seeming destructive vehicle. Rapidly did his features petrify, like an exoskeleton that hardened on his skin and made him stony and his form like an impregnable fortress. From Yuna's memory, she knew that Seymour Flux had been one of the most difficult of his forms, if not the most of them all. Thankfully, he wasn't on the side of Sin and showed no signs of betrayal—yet.

The multiple limbs Mortiorchis wielded in conjunction with Seymour himself made for an imposing enemy, one Shuyin regarded with haughty indifference. "Here you shall die!" the former maester snarled telepathically, the enormous mecha responding with an ionic beam, sizzling the water and causing Yuna to flinch as it strafed one of the pistols. Though she cried out in pain, she responded with an Electric Whirl, successive electric attacks electrocuting the menace even from afar. Seymour followed suit with the Lance of Atrophy.

Rapidly, Yuna cast Scan upon Shuyin, surveying the mecha and seeing trace parallels that crossed with that of the original battles with Vegnagun. "Seymour! We have to attack each limb before hitting his torso and head! That way he can't recover as easily," Yuna instructed, readying another Electric Whirl. It was unleashed almost superfluously, but not before Shuyin lambasted Seymour with a counterattack from the left arm, the half-Guado grunting in pain. Yuna knew better than to think a single attack would be enough, but between the two of them, they already seemed to know how to execute their attacks.

Yuna focused hers on the right arm and leg, she at Seymour's right to begin with. The Right Stigma was unleashed upon the right arm, the Ash Floralysis upon the leg. Though the paralysis failed to inset, it was still enough damage to be considered deadly. Seymour Cross Cleaved through both the arm and leg on his half, only for Flare to be cast in rebuttal causing significant damage to the Mortiorchis.

Yuna gasped as Shuyin suddenly pinned her to the pier with his clawed appendage, alike a tail while casting Silence in succession upon her Pistols, then Paralysis that rendered her immobile. Seymour roared wrathfully, levitating towards the mecha that held her there fiendishly, then crushing the hibiscus and forcefully deactivating the Floral Fallal.

"You truly believed you could steal Lenne from me? Just who do you think you are?" the Zanarkand man demanded incredulously, laughing in shocked disbelief. Both their voices were equally bastardized by their present forms, making Seymour's growl all the more menacing—especially when Yuna finally passed out from the stress.

"To think, we share that much in common!" Seymour rebutted, all before Total Annihilation became the next course of attack. Mortiorchis' lance was brandished to a deadly sheen, all before it rushed Shuyin and plunged the sharpened tip straight through the mecha's breast. A contusion of metal and screeching steel sounded from the blow, Shuyin agape in disbelief as he stared listlessly down, jaw working but unable to enunciate words.

Pyreflies bled from unknown orifices, small explosions ricocheting the listless air and causing the illusion to gradually enfold in upon itself. Limbs writhed and twitched, all before the eyes lost their light and caved in upon itself, cleaving the pier from the enormity of its weight and visually being consumed by the churning waves. Seymour rushed to extricate Yuna before she could be wrenched into those very waters, transferring her from Mortiorchis' arms to his own, the expressionless face of the man still sighing, the waters of the lake slowly recomposing their pristine still as Shunyin's mecha became lost to the waves. Though the impact had been harsh, it was nothing that couldn't heal in the waking world.

Irregardless, they had lingered too long as it was.


Yuna awoke with a strangled gasp, a small whimper escaping as she clutched at her skull. Rikku was still heavily engaged in combat outside, her cousin just barely aware of reality itself. Seymour gradually manifested in turn, panting harshly from the efforts their battle had extolled. When he'd recovered, pointedly did he check Yuna over and quietly cast Cura that dealt away the worst of the injuries she'd sustained.

"Whew, I'm bushed! Those sinspawn were sure tough this time around!" Rikku exclaimed, collapsing in n exhausted heap. Yuna's hand was on Seymour's arm in a steadying gesture before she reflexively withdrew, all before Rikku could see. Still lain upon her back, her very spine was sore from the hard tile that was painful against her frame. "Oh, Yunie, you're awake! How did it go?"

Yuna blearily sat up, blinking owlishly, still clearly exhausted. "It's...better. The theory is true, at least," she supplied, still drained and exhausted from the sleepless nights. "Is Sin still here?"

Rikku sighed, still very much concerned. "Mmmm, nope! It disappeared a bit ago, but—Yunie, are you sure you're okay? You don't look so good."

And it was true. Yuna looked somewhat haggard compared to before, skin taking on an ashen pallor. Though she hadn't awoken screaming or thrashing or even choking, it had done nothing alleviate the complete lack of sleep she'd been experiencing. The priestess sighed deeply, leaning against Seymour heavily, the man gladly accommodating her weight in spite of worry clouding his undoubtedly dispassionate features. "I don't know. Only time will tell, won't it?" Her smile was tired, but it was all she could manage.

Forgoing usual travel, Seymour hoisted her in his arms bridal style, Yuna compliant without complaint in spite of the protests Rikku was prepared to lodge, though forcefully silent as long as she wasn't against it. With Yuna's state as it was, she was too weak to walk. To anyone else, this was a guardian enacting on his duty in spite of the deeper feelings that were running between them of late, of the late argument that had riven them away from one another.

Though her eyes welled with threatening tears, she couldn't help it. Tidus was truly gone this time, wasn't he? For that wasn't Dream Zanarkand. Like a sphere's reconstruction based on memories, it had been an extraction, the remnants of someone's dream. But not of the fayth, because they were truly gone. They flowed noiselessly, Yuna too exhausted to even sob. Seymour glanced down at her, worry tugging at his lips that wished to console her, but it was difficult; there had been no friendliness shared between him and the son of Jecht. The boy had been no more than a gnat in his way, vying for Yuna's affections even when she'd fallen hopelessly in love with the blitzer. It was a guilty jealousy that consumed him, if only on Yuna's behalf for how selfish it was to feel.

As they lapsed into the spiral staircase and away from the chill of the outside air, Yuna managed to allow her eyes to sink closed, not daring to do more than doze in Seymour's arms. He was a strong man, that much was a given. Despite all the conflicted looks Rikku openly cast her cousin, she knew she had to trust Yuna's judgment. No matter how many times he defended the priestess, it was evident to everyone in the party why he did what he did. Hell, he'd explained it himself! It was for Yuna and none else. No wonder she and the others could barely trust him.

But now, their bulwark needed them. Downstairs, turmoil had been evident. Sin had caused enormous damage to the city for the first time in years. Just a few years ago, Sin had been felled on the outer shoals away from the city, almost harmlessly so. People ran amok as medical provisions were being secured, Spiran Council agents being dispatched alongside Yevoners and loyalists to the other factions. Even though Yuna stirred and mentioned wishing to help, Seymour dissuaded her, and for the first time Rikku agreed with him.

The trio departed for the infirmaries, the whitewashed walls being an acute relief. Yuna had been settled upon a gurney and taken away to be healed, Seymour waiting pensively.

"What happened to the Lady Yuna? We became concerned when she suddenly disappeared," Baralai interjected as they waited outside Yuna's room, Seymour regarding the younger man with a sense of indifference.

"We battled Sin, however, it was unlike how it was conducted in Lucca. It was through a psychic connection Yuna shares with Sin that I journeyed into its realm with her. We fought a sinspawn. That is all," Seymour reiterated dismissively, eyes narrowing as he gazed into Yuna's room, eyes stubbornly affixed to the priestess.

"...I see. Thank you for informing me, Seymour. Lady Rikku," he nodded in acknowledgment to the younger guardian, then taking off at a brisk walk down the corridor, Seymour not so much as sparing a glance to the Spiran Council head. His jaw was set, hands clasped behind his back almost with impatience; even it predominantly served to disguise his worry for Yuna.

Rikku bit her lip, feeling the air become uncomfortably stagnant. Seymour's airs had always felt so oppressive to her, but here and now she wasn't sure if she could remain. Not when there was still so much to be done! Yuna wouldn't want her to wait around, either.

"Alright, bucko, you'd better keep a good eye on her, y'hear? I'm gonna go find the others," Rikku informed him assertively, hands on her hips. However, if Seymour had heard her, he gave no indication. The man remained stubbornly statuesque, keeping vigil over Yuna.

Part of her doubted he'd respond until Yuna came to. Pursing her lips, the Al Bhed simply sighed and took off at a sprint, not bothering to even look back.


Last thoughts: I know back to back chapters might feel like a bit much, but this isn't without reason.

Happy holidays, everyone! Hope you're all having wonderful holidays so far!

~Peace, G