Chapter 8

After having successfully avoided Yuna and her friends in the Macalania Woods, Seymour was completely at a loss as to where to go and what to do now. It was something he was doing his best to try and hide from Melody, though he suspected she already knew. After a day or two away from the settlement, he heard the massive airship take off. They would probably be back before long, but this would hopefully give them a few days' peace.

"Where are we going now?" Melody asked, tugging her skirt free from yet another branch, "you've been awfully quiet lately—more than usual, I mean. It's a different kind of quiet. You're not sick, are you?"

"Just come on."

She gave a resigned sigh, deciding that he was dead set on not telling her. All she could do was follow his back. The woods were getting thicker and thicker and he was having to exert more effort to move the tree branches out of the way. Melody watched the intentness of his movements, the sheer determination. He wasn't wandering around—this was something specific. There was somewhere he wanted to get to for a reason. After several minutes of almost running to keep up with him, he had stopped.

"What?" she asked, appearing at his elbow, "Is there something ahead of us?"

He stepped out of the way and let her through. As predicted, her eyes grew huge and round as she admired the spring.

"Oh! It's beautiful!"

"At one time, you wanted to know how to create spheres," Seymour said, "they are created by infusing water with Pyreflies. But this is where to get the water from. It has a particular affinity for them."

Melody dipped her hands in it. Almost immediately, the water appeared to respond to her touch and she was left holding a ball of it as it contracted in her palms. She tossed it up and down for a few moments, laughing like a child.

I dearly wish I could be so easily amused…he thought, watching her.

"I keep expecting it to fall apart, but it never does," Melody pointed out.

"And it never will unless it is returned to the spring," he told her. She gazed at the blank sphere in her hand for a long time, noticing that it felt more solid now than liquid.

"Press it against your temple," he told her, "and remember something in all its detail. Force it into the sphere and you'll have made your own."

She did so, her eyes shutting in concentration. She wanted to show him Earth. She wanted to show him Father if she could. Seymour watched as the sphere began to glow brightly in her hands. It shone brilliantly with swirling colors and he got the impression that more than one memory was being put in. He left her to it, debating on whether or not he wanted to create his own sphere. He found his own imagination woefully lacking—there was nothing good he could show her. Even so, he created one though it was left blank for the time being. Placing it carefully inside the pack, he wanted until she was finished. Her face had reddened with the concentration as if the memories had been physical things that she'd had to push.

"Whooh…I never realized I still had so many memories," she said, "like I said, I don't remember much from my own life, but you'll see a lot of Earth stuff in general."

She started to hand it to him, but he said, "I prefer to view it when we're going to be uninterrupted…preferably in a closed area. The last thing I want is a pack of fiends sneaking up on us. Or worse…"

"Okay."

The sphere she held in her hand seemed almost alive. The colors were whirling more brightly now and it almost seemed to be moving. She stuck it in a side pouch of the bag and they started to leave when Seymour heard a wet squishing sound.

"What's that noise?" Melody asked, for the woods had gone very quiet.

"I see that it's still here," Seymour replied, his voice barely above a whisper, "stay close and don't let it touch you."

"Don't let what—HOLY FUDGECAKES, WHAT IS THAT?!"

An enormous globular form was coming towards them. It looked vaguely like a flan, but it didn't have any of the facial features. Despite its formless shape, a great deal of negative presence was coming from it. While Melody had been putting her memories into the sphere, Seymour had been watching for it. The creature was entirely too smart for a fiend—waiting until its victims had gotten what they wanted and were about to leave was a good way to lure them into a sense of false security. Despite Melody's Protect spell, they were almost frozen solid by the blast of icy air.

"Hit it with fire!" Seymour yelled as the creature loomed over them. He hurled several fireballs into the creature's underbelly. Melody was trying, but her flame spells were still very weak. She tried to get out of the way of it, but he saw her disappearing under the gelatinous skin of the creature.

Melody was no stranger to being killed, but being suffocated was still terrifying. The creature's jelly-like exterior oozed into her mouth, her nose, and stayed there. Simultaneously, it crushed the breath out of her lungs. Just as she felt like she was going to pass out for sure, it lost interest in her and went after Seymour. Gasping and coughing, she had blue goo dripping from her nose and mouth for several seconds.

Seymour felt the signature vibration that always happened, but this time, he welcomed it.

"Change! Change!" he yelled just as he disappeared underneath the creature. Melody's eyes began to glow. Digging both fingers into it, she hauled it backwards and Seymour emerged coughing gel out of his lungs. While hacking at it with her sword didn't do very much, she distracted it. It sent a tsunami after her, so Seymour struck it with several bolts of lightning in quick succession. Every time it cast a spell now, Melody's wings would wrap around her body like a protective shell and block out the magic somewhat. It took several more spells to get rid of the creature, but it dispelled after a while. Seymour breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against a nearby tree for support. Melody landed next to him. Still in her seraphim form, she began to heal his wounds one by one.

"The creature you just got the misfortune of meeting is known as Spherimorph," he said through gritted teeth, having to endure the sting of being touched before it could go away, "it guards this spring, though no one really knows why. There is a rumor that in life, it was a Guado who couldn't tolerate humans being around it for fear that they would somehow contaminate the spring…"

His explanation trailed off into a gasp of pain as she moved to treat a particularly large burn on his leg. It shone white and the wound was as good as erased from history. Melody's seraphim form melted away and she was left sweating and shaking.

"And the fact that people do still keep coming and always have to clobber him probably confirms what he thought all along," Melody said, flopping into the grass, "…I know we gotta get out of here, but I'm wiped…"

"Here," he said, handing her one of the potions, "if we were anywhere else, I'd suggest you rest, but I don't want to risk it coming back either."

He helped her up and they hurried away from the spring. As hard as chimeras were, she was glad that there was only one Spherimorph. The idea of something killing her simply by smothering her was worse than the idea of being stabbed. She gulped the potion along the way and felt the strength return to her somewhat. They followed the road they had been taking originally. It led past the Macalania Temple and to the Calm Lands, but Seymour told her to wait in the woods.

"There is something I want to check," he said, drawing up his hood.

When he was gone for more than twenty minutes, Melody began to pace and worry. She wished she could have gone with him, but it was clear that he wanted to do whatever it was by himself. When he returned, he seemed empty handed.

"Well?" she asked.

"I thought I had a spare staff left here," he sighed, "but it's gone now. I wouldn't be surprised if someone destroyed it."

"You seem to be doing pretty good with magic," Melody said, "and you've got a pretty good right hook, too."

Seymour's old smile, the cocky one, was back. Before his first real death, the one that had landed him in the Via Infinito, he had received them regularly from Tromell and the others. He had taken so much for granted. This one definitely stroked his ego—he actually felt as if he had earned it.

"Thank you. But I would feel much more comfortable with something to hold—something at the very least to put between the enemy's teeth and my limbs."

"I don't blame you. I'll ask Father."

He stared.

"You didn't do that before?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

"I did, actually," Melody said, "but He felt it wasn't time yet."

Seymour shook his head, not understanding. He was getting used to this cryptic explanation, however, so he simply continued on his way. They emerged from the Macalania Woods in late afternoon.

"Where are we now?" she asked, pausing beside him.

"Good question…"

He watched the various machina chasing down the fiends that were along the road.

"The area before us is the Calm Lands—a very big misnomer," he said, "the area has some of the most powerful fiends in Spira and many of the Summoners gave up their pilgrimages in these plains. And now there are machina all over the place, which I'm sure will not be the least bit of help. After that incident in Djose, they will probably come after us."

"So….no road, huh?"

"Correct."

She watched the machina go after the fiends over and over with deadly accuracy whenever they went near the road. She and Seymour moved away from the road. Holding her sketchbook open to a crude map that she and Seymour had been filling out, she traced her finger along the page, thinking. A noise caught her attention.

"What was that?"

Something orange and yellow was laying in the grass. Blood stained its feathers and it was struggling to get up and couldn't. Melody, of course, walked over to it to examine it.

"Is it a fiend?" she asked warily.

"No. This is a Chocobo. We used to ride them for transportation before all the machina airships…I'm surprised we haven't run into one until now."

"So they're big horsey-birds?"

The Chocobo stared at them warily, its clawed talon giving a little warning swipe.

"Careful," Seymour warned, "their talons are quite sharp."

Melody moved up to its head where she'd be safe from the Chocobo's claws.

"Easy there," she whispered, "you've had a rough day, haven't you."

She yelped in surprise when it tried to bite her.

"Goodness….a very rough day by the sounds of it," she observed, "don't bite. It's okay, I'm going to help you."

She began to sing to it. Seymour leaned against an enormous rock wondering how he'd gotten himself into this situation. The sheer absurdity made him smile—they were in the middle of nowhere singing to an animal. Melody's voice seemed to calm the creature down, however, and she gradually inched in closer where she could touch it. Placing her hands over the wound, she sealed it closed, stroking its feathers and whispering reassurances. Seymour watched the formerly done-for gigantic bird rise to its feet.

"There, see? All done!" Melody told it. She frowned as if concentrating on something, then patted the Chocobo's belly.

"What is it? Still wounded?" Seymour asked.

"No…" Melody's face lit up, "she's going to be a mommy! She's all huge because the baby's going to be here soon…probably a matter of days."

The Chocobo clicked its beak and trilled, a sign of friendliness. It—she—no longer seemed frightened of Melody.

"Let's take her with us!" Melody suggested.

Seymour face-palmed.

"Melody, we've already got people looking for us," he warned, "and having a very pregnant bright yellow-orange animal that looks as if it's on the rare side now is going to attract more attention and more trouble."

"Aw, come on, Seymour! If it was your mom, you wouldn't leave her, would you?"

The dark look he gave her said that she'd overstepped her bounds.

"Sorry," Melody hastily apologized, "but please? Just until the baby's born? Then we can turn them loose."

They started to walk again, still arguing about the issue. The Chocobo that they'd saved followed them.

"See? She likes the idea," Melody pointed out, stroking her beak.

"Stop petting her," Seymour ground out, "you're only going to get her more attached to you and then she really won't go away!"

Melody climbed up on a rock and swung onto the Chocobo's back. Not being trained to ride, she shot forward like a bullet at the sudden weight. Melody hung on for dear life.

"WHEEEEEEEEE!" she shrieked. Seymour sighed heavily and sprinted after them. The Chocobo seemed to think it was a game, for she put on an extra burst of speed.

I'm getting too old for this… Seymour thought as he started to pant. After a few minutes of not being able to catch up, he was forced to stop. Leaning against a giant boulder, he struggled to draw air into his burning lungs. He watched the pair run for a few moments, but then the animal suddenly put on the brakes. Clearly distressed by something, it spread its stumpy wings and began to flap them, sending golden feathers everywhere.

"Easy, girl, what's wrong?" Melody was hanging on for dear life, but she was pitched into the grass when the Chocobo bucked. She ran off, leaving Melody there gasping for pain. Before Seymour could reach her, they saw why. A pack of wolf-like fiends was heading straight for them. Melody drew her sword and shakily got to her feet just as Seymour caught up with her. The blood on the wolves' muzzles wasn't the least bit comforting. She slashed at them, but her sword didn't appear to be doing much damage. Seymour's magic was only slightly better and he was running low already. They stood back to back as the creatures formed a ring around them.

"Father, please help us!" Melody begged. She just barely dodged a wolf's mouth and Seymour yanked her the other way to keep her from getting a bunch of teeth in her leg.

"KWEH! KWEH!"

Melody saw the Chocobo lunge at the wolves, striking at them with her talons and beak. The wolves took advantage of this distraction by jumping on all three of them. Seymour was struggling to pry one of them off, its detestable foul breath grazing his exposed neck, when there was an earth-shattering roar.

The wolf turned its head and Seymour dislodged it with a firm hook to the jaw. It yelped and fell over, rolled, and circled back around. A blur of white streaked past—a BIG blur. That same smell that Melody carried—like the Farplane and not the Farplane all at once—filled his nostrils. The white creature resembled an enormous lion, not that anyone in Spira would know what a lion was. It was easily the size of a fully-grown Chocobo and had a faint glow to its fur. Seymour was so stunned that all he could do was sit there in the grass clutching his wounds while he watched. The wolves all turned on the lion, now an obviously bigger threat. The lion didn't seem affected in the least, however, as it easily threw them off into the grass. It let out another roar and the wolves took off, deciding that this meal wasn't worth it. Then, it turned that intense gaze on them. As it slowly padded over to where they were, Seymour noticed that its eyes were a mosaic of colors and that its fur wasn't exactly white—each strand seemed to be a different color tint. He reached around, grabbed Melody's sword, and was poised to attack it when the creature merely sat down, continuing to study him. Seymour's hand trembled slightly, but he held the sword as steadily as he could. A badly injured Melody crawled towards him.

"Seymour…" she spat out a mouthful of blood, "don't hurt him…"

"What do you suggest I do, then?" Seymour asked acidly. Out here it was kill or be killed.

"Let go of my sword," Melody insisted, her voice starting to slur.

"Why? You're in no condition to fight right now."

"Just do it…" she drew in a ragged breath. It sounded very wet, which worried him. He released his grip on the hilt and she put it back in its sheath on her belt. Then, very slowly, she crawled towards the enormous feline creature.

"Melody, what are you doing?" he asked, hoping she hadn't been Confused.

She ignored him and placed her hand over the massive creature's paw. That was when Seymour saw his first miracle.

There was no magic to it, no flashing light, no scent of magic in the air whatsoever. The minute she made contact with the white beast, her wounds were simply gone. Her complexion became pink again and all the matted blood in her hair vanished. The scars from earlier fiend attacks also vanished. It was as if she'd never been in a fight at all. She threw her arms around the lion suddenly and Seymour braced himself to watch her die only to see that the lion had draped one paw around her back as if it were returning the hug. Now he was very confused.

"Come here, Seymour," Melody called, "it's okay—you have nothing to be scared of."

He limped towards them, his blood spraying the ground from a wound in his leg. Every step was agonizing and he only had to take six or seven of them. His strength gave out as soon as he reached the lion and the girl and he dropped into the grass.

"Seymour," Melody said lovingly, "this is Father."

Seymour could only stare uncomprehendingly.

"Of course, He doesn't always look like this," Melody said, "but it's one of his visiting-places forms. The kind that regular people can see."

Again, silence. The lion raised one of his massive paws and Seymour was sure it was going to strike him, but it didn't. It stayed there in the air only six inches from his face. He felt the presence of the mysterious shape-shifting creature in his mind—awe-inspiring and powerful, yet very kind. Seymour pressed his palm into the thick, rubbery pad of the lion's paw and felt something like electricity jolt through his body. The pain, the blood, and the exhaustion vanished instantly.

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

The lion continued to study them. The Chocobo trotted over, chirping. For such a skittish mount, even she didn't seem to fear this creature.

What do I say to him? It seems wrong to just sit here and stare…but I can't think of what to say…

He felt the presence touch his mind once more. Then, he knew what to say: "Thank you for sending Melody."

The lion almost seemed to smile.

"She has been…a great help to me…" he continued awkwardly, "…and a great companion."

An affectionate rumble came from the lion's throat. Then, he was gone. No Pyreflies, no fading, just gone.

"Where did he go?" Seymour asked, puzzled, and even touching the thin air.

"He's still here," Melody informed him, "we just can't see Him. Oh, look! He left you a present!"

In the hollow of grass that had been pressed down where the lion had been sitting was a staff. It resembled Seymour's old one very closely except that the ornate top was white instead of red.

"It's about time!" Seymour said, grabbing it, "I was beginning to wonder if He would ever trust me with a weapon again."

Melody was grinning ear to ear.

"What?" Seymour asked, mildly annoyed.

"The way you said that…it was like you were starting to believe me."

Seymour looked down at the shining staff in his hands.

"We have the ability to sense deception in some cases," Seymour finally said, "out of my entire existence, I can only name one instance in which I was tricked. Ordinarily, we can smell guilt, fear, dishonesty. I never scented it from you. Of course, that didn't necessarily mean what you said was true to everyone—it was very likely only true to you."

"Can anybody really make something like this up?" Melody asked.

"You would be surprised," Seymour said darkly, "especially when it came to Yu Yevon."

"Who's Yu Yevon?"

"That's a long story for another time. Let's get out of the sun."

She followed him. A few paces away was the Chocobo.

"I'm so glad you're still here! You need a name, don't you?" she asked. The Chocobo had noticed a patch of greens nearby and was munching away.

"You should call her 'Pain-In-The-"

"—Kevin!" Melody exclaimed, cutting Seymour's terrible joke off, "I'll call her Kevin."

"Are you sure? That's an awfully masculine-sounding name," Seymour remarked, then shrugged, "…not that it matters since we aren't keeping her."

"I played with a big bird like this when I was still really young," she said, ignoring Seymour's statement of not keeping 'Kevin', "except that one was kind of a bluish color. She was a mommy, too."

She walked over to the newly christened "Kevin" and hugged her as if the two had grown up together.

"How can he say no to this face, right?" Melody asked, looking into the Chocobo's big, dark, liquid eyes, "I mean, come on…he's not that heartless…he did save my butt numerous times even if he didn't like me very much at first. I think I've grown on him. And you will, too."

Rolling his eyes, Seymour wandered off to find some water even though he certainly could have used something stronger after the day he'd had.