On considering maskormenace in the new year...

[maestermind]

You would send me?

[I remember someone saying once that the actors must play their parts! You didn't think you were exempt, did you?]

Ah...so that is your plan. The stage shall be a world without the Farplane? Very well, then. You have my consent.

[There's no Sin, either. So don't go getting any ideas!]

I think that is where you are mistaken. A story without sin? A world? Surely such a place cannot exist.

[Hey, you know that's not what I—]

Truly, it will be a wonder to behold. Not just a city of machina, but a great and vast planet full of possibilities. And one I shall see for myself, not just through mere glimpses of reconstructed memories in a sphere...

[—um, are you even listening???]

Take me there.

Comments

[thunderangel]

A lot of interesting places like that exist!

What's the Farplane? { And why is he concerned about sin? }

[maestermind]

[What nonsense you speak, Serah.]

A place removed from sin? An entire world untouched by evil? Surely you jest. As light cannot exist without dark, right cannot exist without wrong.

[A patient shake of his head. Children.]

But as for the Farplane, that is the final resting place of the dead in Spira, and the place my people, the Guado, serve as keepers to protect.

[thunderangel]

{ Is it nonsense or optimism? }

It's...possible? My Mun tells me anything can happen, though the darkness we bring ourselves would upset such a world.

{ It's a little sad that they can't enter a world like that without tainting it. She crosses her arms behind her back. }

That's pretty honorable. Can you speak to the dead?

[maestermind]

[Nonsense. Optimism. In the end, they're indistinguishable from each other, aren't they?]

Possible, perhaps, but not very likely. Such a world would be bereft of intelligent life, for its mere presence would upset such a delicate balance.

[Such faith he has in people.]

Why...a world such as that would resemble the Farplane. Beautiful, but desolate. There the living can travel, and there they may visit the spirits of those they have lost, but they cannot speak with the dead, not truly.

[Curiously, Seymour tilts his head and studies Serah.]

Have you lost someone you long to speak with once more?

[thunderangel]

{ No, not really, and she will argue with him on that point! }

You can't say that for sure. You might find it boring or mundane, but not all intelligence comes from conflict.

{ She looks as if she has a lot to say on that point, but she stops herself, biting her lip. }

My sister...she serves Etro. Her place is in Valhalla - which doesn't seem that different from your Farplane. She isn't dead, but I -

{ Selfishly, she misses her. }

[maestermind]

[Her and everyone else, it would seem!]

Boring? Mundane?

[Seymour shakes his head.]

I find life to be neither—but it is a beginning, to which an end must inevitably come. Intelligence simply accelerates that process.

[How callous that must sound, so cruel and unforgiving. Such is life, but this girl...her spirit reminds him of the Lady Yuna. Perhaps he can afford to be a little less insensitive? If only for interest's sake.]

Ah...forgive me. Often a Maester is required to be less himself and more a platform from which the teachings of Yevon may be shared. I sometimes forget...that not everyone sees the world from as harsh a perspective as ours.

But your sister...if she is not dead, you may well see her again. [Foolishly, but perhaps not in vain—] You must hope.

[thunderangel]

{ She is trying to understand him; to meet him halfway. His view on life - on good and evil - must stem from somewhere. Very few have had a life like hers - where time crosses itself and her world must be renewed. }

A Maester acquires their knowledge from the Farplane, then? { Serah and Yuna would be fast friends if she knew her. } I have known those who have died and I will be like them soon enough.

{ The Eyes of Etro are more curse than blessing. }

Hopefully not forever. I want to be a teacher to future generations. I want...my sister to be herself. She has fought so hard for me. I have no right to ask anything of her, but I know she wants to live to see the new world...when the time is right.

[maestermind]

Not from the Farplane, but from the teachings of Yevon and the natural order in Spira. The living expire; summoners send their spirits to rest; and those that remain unsent in turn prey on the living. This cycle is known as the spiral of death.

[A cycle he has become intimately acquainted with. But that's a story for another time.]

That is our harsh reality—and a cause that unites Maesters and summoners. Together, we work in tandem to shield the people of Spira from that sorrowful truth and all its repercussions, to give them a chance at peace, however temporary.

[And it is temporary, for nothing in life is truly eternal...]

I pray that you will not wait forever to find your peace. [He bows his head, hands cupping the air before him in a spherical shape.] Your dream is noble and deserving of realization.

[thunderangel]

I wish I could learn more about Yevon and Spira. Our paths might cross again or they might not. Time can be altered in all worlds - I have seen that for myself. No place is untouchable - especially here - which means we can't trust in natural cycles either.

{ Even so, what he speaks of gives her chills. She rubs one of her arms idly. }

I feel...sorry for the people of Spira. Can their temporary peace be...extended?

{ Maybe not eternal, but long enough so they can live a good life. }

I will not wait. I will seek her myself until I find her. { She tilts her head, bending slightly to see his hands. } What does that mean? Is that...a cycle? A spiral?

[maestermind]

If you truly believe that, why not ask and have all your questions answered?

[After all, Seymour likes to talk as much as he likes the sound of his own voice. He'll oblige Serah's curiosity. And why shouldn't he? There is some truth to her words.

Time...he has seen himself how alterable it is.]

Your compassion...there are many in Spira who would be grateful. And that is why it pains me to say no, the Calm...it cannot be prolonged. Summoners defeat Sin, and peace blankets Spira...until Sin is reborn again. Thus, the cycle continues. If there is some other way, I should think someone would have thought of it in the last thousand years, don't you? For that is how long we have been fighting Sin.

[Well, to be fair, he has thought of another way. By becoming Sin himself, he can extend the Calm. He can save Spira—by destroying it.

...Seymour glances from his hands—much larger than a human's, with longer fingers and sharpened nails—back to her, and he smiles. Polite, but there is something skirting along the edges of his expression, something almost self-satisfied.]

This? It is a prayer, one practiced by followers of Yevon. It means that I wish you success in finding your sister, and that your quest be a safe and expeditious one.

*blows the dust off of this account* FINALLY! XD

[mothers_ghost]

Take care that your lust for power doesn't override your common sense, my son. Worlds such as these play host to many different kinds of people, not all of whom will be swayed by your gift with words and your father's charisma.

This is a welcome surprise!

[maestermind]

[Seymour's gift with words briefly eludes him, surprise at the presence of his mother's ghost prevailing in its stead. Too much time has passed since he has seen her face or heard her voice...

...and these are the words she chooses to bestow upon him?

He masks his bitterness with cool indifference, but just barely manages to succeed.]

Your concern is overwhelming...and unnecessary.

[Not to mention being eighteen years overdue, besides.]

I've been waiting for a chance to troll a Seymour with this account for aaaaages

[mothers_ghost]

[Anima's face remains impassive as ever. If she gained nothing else from her time married to Jyscal and raising Seymour, it was a tough hide and a keen sense for when she was being lied to.]

Is it? I remember well what you chose to do with the power I gave you, Seymour. Had I known then how you would use the power of my Aeon, I would have had my soul Sent from that cursed statue.

[Yeah that's right, she went there.]

Let's be honest, he deserves it.

[maestermind]

Of course you would have.

[Seymour had begged his mother to stay with him, but in his mind his words had fallen upon deaf ears. Had she not left him alone, he might not have thought to obtain power enough to make all of Spira feel his pain! He would not have needed to...

But what ifs have no place here. The past has already been written and it cannot be changed.]

And now you can do nothing...

[Nothing, that is, except abandon him again—by opposing him.]