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Post by Seymour Guado on Dec 23, 2009 19:21:19 GMT
The sea was calm and tranquil, shimmering in the pale light of the moon. Small, white-crested waves rhythmically lapped gently against the boat as it cut smoothly through the glass-like water. A tiny breeze blew past, weaving through his permanently ruffled and wild, blue hair. With the wind, his royal and extravagant robe flowed freely and his well-muscled chest was partially revealed. The moon shone down gloriously, hitting him with ethereal light that made him look nigh godly. His intelligent, brown eyes pierced the dark settings before him. It was not an utterly black night; however, only general shapes could be discern, nothing of detail. As his thoughtful and acute brown eyes scanned the scenery, a hint of nostalgia hit the Maester of Yevon, Seymour, as he gazed upon his past home, his destination for his night venture.
Golden rays of radiant light that rained down from the blazing and kingly sun seemed to make the grand structure of Baaj Temple sparkle extraordinarily. The intricate masonry of the building was a splendor to behold. The sheer complex and magnificent architecture was a symbol of what the luxurious edifice would house in the near future: an Aeon, one of unbelievable power. For the time being, what resided in the Temple was a lone and forsaken child. A small boy lived, secluded from a world that apparently despised his existence, in this grand temple, though he was equipped to take care of himself. Even at a young age, it was evident that Seymour was an anomaly when it came to magic, both white and black, as well as physical combat. He was very prolific in both arts and was an overwhelming force to handle.
His days at the private sanctuary were many. He spent all these days wandering the mystical halls, indulging himself in the knowledge of what he appeared destined to become a Summoner. Consequently, he spent the major part of his life, eighteen years to be exact, exiled to this dreamy island, gaining more information on lore and such. He would visit the sandy beach and swim, carefree, in the waters.
Further reminiscing was interrupted as a rough voice from behind him spoke out. ”Sorry to disturb you, Your Grace, but we have arrived.”
Did the simple sailor assume him to be blind? He could clearly see they had arrived. He may have been daydreaming, yet he was always alert. Of all that was just and fair in this world, why was he plagued by idiots? Soon, they would be no concern, nonetheless, because once he attained what he came to acquire from the Temple, he would be on his way to becoming the next Sin and ultimately destroy the miserable lives of the citizens of Spira.
Putting a kind face on – his typical “good guy” act -, he turned to face the burly-looking sailor and regarded him with his serene, chocolate-brown eyes. His voice rang out in a compassionate tone as he said, ”Do not apologize; I was just absorbed in my thoughts. Thank you for informing me.” With that said, he dismissed the man. His voice had been cool and sincere – he was the perfect actor –, the sailor turned to go drop the anchor.
The ship anchored just outside of the Baaj Temple. As his dark brown eyes stared up at the colossal building, he had to admit he was somewhat saddened by the fact that the place he had once called home was now desolated, and by none other than Sin itself. The grand spires had crumbled and lay ruined after the vicious attack. The ceiling lay collapsed and impaired. The grandeur and brilliance the Temple once possessed was long gone. Without a doubt, it certainly stirred some mixed emotions in Seymour. He had grown up in this building and now to see it wasted was disheartening.
Despite the devastated building, he was not here for the sights. He was here for something greater, something that would aid him, something that he was offered a long time ago but threw aside. He was here for the Aeon, Anima, or when he was young, he knew it as… his mother.
”Mother, is something wrong?” He asked rather worriedly as he heard a noticeably harsh cough come from her petit core. ”No, everything is all right, dear. Do not worry yourself.” She gazed lovingly and caringly at him, thinking his was unknowing and unaware, too young to comprehend that she was dying. Seymour’s mother knew very well that her life was coming to an end that is why she made a drastic, but noble sacrifice.
With only a few hours left, his mother gave her life to Yunalesca to become the fayth of the Aeon, Anima. She did this in hopes that aiding the world in their quest to destroy Sin would allow them to accept her son, Seymour, back into society. However, her son did not see her offer to the world the same way she did.
Once she became a fayth, she presented her powers as Anima to Seymour, eager to make him happy and help him on his way to becoming a Summoner. Seymour did not take this offer too kindly as it was because of the sacrifice she made that caused him to be alone in this world. Horrified by the gift she was about to give to him, he ran away.
The purpose of Seymour’s travels was to make amends for his rejection of his mother gift and finally, receive it. However, once he claimed his mother’s Aeon, she would naively serve his dark purpose, as well: she would assist him in becoming Sin.
A secret, insane smile curled his lips when thinking this; nevertheless, he was quick to hide the maniacal grin. Luckily no one had seen him. It was humorous to think that all these people were blissfully ignorant about his true nature, though they lack of knowledge benefitted his cause. The population of Spira would never know his true chaotic side until he revealed it to them when he would become the next Sin.
He quickly glanced around the ship; all the sailors looked back at him, waiting for him to say something. It was entertaining how simple folk obeyed him without hesitation. Good thing he was ‘virtuous,’ or they may have been in trouble.
He made no speech; in fact, he did not say a thing. He simply disrobed so he was left in nothing but his cloth pants. He handed his robes to a nearby sailor as the crew watched him, in a stunned fashion. He knew there was no other way inside the temple, other than underwater means; thus, he had to swim. He stood on the edge of the boat and just before he leapt in, he confidently looked back at the crew and said in a strong voice, ”Be ready to leave once I return, I will not take long.” Saying that, he dove straight into the black waters and he could hear several gasps before he entered the icy domain.
The water was quite refreshing, maybe a bit cold, but he did not mind. He began to swim swiftly through under the water. He knew roughly where he was going; however, he did not some help in terms of light. A simple thought sufficed his need as three glowing and bright spheres of white light materialized around him. With their help, he successfully made his way to one of the entrances. He was good at conserving his breath, but it was almost up, he needed to get going or he would be in trouble.
It did not take long before he finally surfaced, gasping for air. He crawled out of the water onto a rocky ledge. He took deep breaths, trying to get his normal respiration back steadily. Though he was temporary out of breath, he was still alert. He knew that after the temple was ravaged, fiends had taken a liking to it. Fortunately, he had not run into any yet, but all that could change.
It took about a minute to resume his normal state of breathing and once he was ready, he stood up from the ground. He looked around, his stance was firm and unwavering, and three white orbs surrounded him. Another thought and two of the three began to fly around the vast open space of the temple, lighting every area up so he may inspect it.
He did not doubt that it would be, but the interior of the temple was in a worse state than the exterior. Piles upon piles of rubble and debris lay scattered all over. Ancient tapestries were strewn in pieces across the ground. It was all depressing; however, this was his past: shattered and damaged, much like he is now, his mind at least. Yet, he was not here to breakdown with sadness, he was here to become stronger, and so he would.
Word Count: 1521 XP Count: 152.1
Total Word Count: 1521 Total XP Count: 152.1
Last Edit: Dec 23, 2009 22:56:45 GMT by Seymour Guado
The floating spheres illuminated the walls of the open cavern in wide circles of light. The room was wide and filled with rocks and debris. Water poured from cracks in the ceiling and the edges of the room were flooded. In this wide chamber there are two exits, one of which must be the entrance to the temple proper, the other likely holding back the millions of gallons of water pressing down on the temple. You have a choice before you as to which door to open, open the right door and you enter the Chamber of the Fayth, open the wrong door and you risk flooding the entire place.
Before you get the chance to get a good look at either door, however, something catches your eye. Motion. Movement. You are not alone. No sooner had you made the realization than the beast attacked.
Klikk Hiding in the dark dank places of the world, these extremely fast creatures lurk in the dark, striking out whenever something gets too close, devouring it's prey before it even knows that it's there. 1500 words to defeat. (one word per hitpoint the boss had in the game.)
Post by Seymour Guado on Dec 30, 2009 21:57:24 GMT
He stood, wrapped in a handsome glow from his three spheres as they scanned the room. His deep, wise and calculating brown eyes scrutinized the room, examining every nook and cranny his orbs probed. The most significant thing noticeable – though sight was not necessary to detect this concern – was the considerable amount of water leakage. The sound of constant water dropping from high levels assailed his eyes relentlessly; the noise was only increased by the sheer size of the cavernous, underwater building.
He did his best coping with the perpetual resonance of crashing water as he inspected the interior of the structure further. It was rather intriguing that even after laying in miserable ruin for so many years, the grand temple of Baaj still retained some of its aspects that he could recall from his childhood spent here. What truly caught Seymour’s attention, and fascinated him, was the presence of a single statue. This individual statue was quite special and quite distinct from all the rest because it was the only stone figure that remained completely intact. Naturally, various moulds, plants and fungi encased it and grew on it; however, it stood tall without as much as a small chunk missing. The carving itself could still be discerned as it was of a female Yevon discipline making the sign of Yevon. It was, without a doubt, a beautiful and immaculate sight to behold and perhaps, the green coat enveloping it did some good as it added a mystical look to it. This artefact of his past made his cold and twisted heart move with some warmth... but not enough to derail him from going through with his plans of the mass destruction of Spira.
His ruffled blue hair tossed around as he whipped his head to face one of his glowing spheres. It had mentally tore him away – thankfully – from his disdainful reminiscing and brought to his attention two rusted looking doors. He moved passed the statue of old to further his exploration through the shadowy bowels of the temple by studying the doors in better depth. Nevertheless, his mind was quickly drawn to a small, but swift movement in the corner of his eye. He was not alone. He knew that after the abandonment of this divine temple, it would only be a matter of time before it became infested with pestilent creatures and horrors untold. Also, he knew he would not go long before he would run into said creatures; this was why he came prepared. He grabbed his staff that he kept attached to his back by a rope. Though he had taken off his robes before diving into the water, he made sure to fasten his staff to his back for this very reason. His staff was slightly larger than him, maybe six feet and two inches. It was made from wood found in Guado and affixed to the top was a fist-sized sphere that contained pyreflies – phenomenon that are closely linked to the concepts of life force and spiritual energy. Additionally, it is adorned with various inscriptions and flowery decorations to represent peace and harmony.
In this situation, however, it was not going to be used for peace, it was going to be used to protect, and possibly, kill. In an instant, his three orbs were by his side, furiously floating around him, ready to defend their master from any harm. His alert brown eyes surveyed his surroundings. Water continued to drip around him as he looked for the source of what he saw a moment before. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another rapid movement; however, this time, it came at him, striking.
As soon as it came within range of his orbs shimmering light, he could immediately make out what it was. He had never seen a creature like this before; however, it was brown and purple, moving around on four legs with a giant appendage prodding from its back. It made strange, insect-like noises as it attacked. It was certainly fast as it stabbed at Seymour, he barely had time to react, shooting his staff to parry the limb away. His orbs retaliated without delay, circling the beast’s head until its formed a magnificent, illuminating circle that shone brightly – even Seymour had to cover his eyes partially, so he would not get blinded. The creature emitted a horrid screech as it lashed out violently at the air around it; nonetheless, it managed to make contact with Seymour. A sharp extremity of the beast produced a large gash from Seymour’s left shoulder and down his arm slightly. Grunting in pain, Seymour backed away from the beast as his orbs continued to assault it while it persisted in trying to damage the orbs of light in some way.
Fire seemed to burn him, or so it felt. From the hefty wound seeped a great deal of blood. As the red, warm liquid flowed down his arm, staining his skin, a definite scent of iron hit his nostrils. It was nauseating, yet Seymour had to control himself. He felt light-headed and dizzy, a natural effect of blood loss. His breaths were shallow and ragged. Annoyance welled in his inner being: if he could not handle a simple monster, how could he manage destroying all of Spira? Anger surged through his veins at his own inferiority. He needed to get stronger. He needed to get better. He needed to become the strongest and the best.
Adrenaline was successfully pumping through his veins, and though he was wounded, he was not out of the fight yet. He returned his full concentration to the enraged beast before him. His orbs had done quite some damage on the beast, regardless, it was still going strong. The white spheres returned to his immediate presence as he observed the monster from a distance. The orbs had been victorious in blinding the beast as it now thrashed around viciously, but without aim. However, Seymour assumed that even though its sense of sight was taken from it, its other senses were quite well tuned. His assumption was correct. The beast was able to lock onto Seymour through sense of hearing and smell. It began a rampant charge forward and Seymour did not have a lot of time to respond, but he managed.
The air began to crackle with power and magic. Raw, untainted and pure magic surrounded him like a powerful aura. His muscular physique rippled as the fierce atmosphere of mana swathed his figure. His eyes fixed themselves upon the oncoming beast with a deathly focus. His magic precedence was astounding. From a young age, he had been born and prepared to become a Summoner of Yevon. He became prolific in many arts of physical combat and efficient and devastating in terms of magical prowess. His mother believed that if he devoted himself to the life of a Summoner, he would one day be accepted into the gracious arms of society, instead of thrust away and banished to a solitary island because of his interracial birth. Despite his childhood and teenage years, he threw away his chance at becoming a Summoner when his mother sacrificed herself to become the fayth of the Aeon, Anima. Naturally, that was why he found himself at this sunken temple in the first place, to attain what he had been presented so long ago as a gift of love, but did not accept: the powers and protection of his mother, or Anima.
He swiftly raised his arms and extended both hands towards the rushing beast as if to embrace it; however, he began to cast his most reliable and favoured spell, Water. Out of all the elements, he found water most intriguing. It was a force of unparalleled strength and it possessed the ability to drown other beings. Its natural forms caused many disasters, like flooding, tsunamis, and tidal waves. In his opinion, it was the most detrimental and should not be underestimated.
As he began to conjure up Water, the normal water that leaked into the room also began to converge with the increasing body of water he was summoning. Soon enough, a massive sphere of swirling, dark water was now under his control. A cruel smirk played on his lips. Thankfully, no one was present to see him in such a sadistic manner, or it may have been harmful to his apparently stainless reputation.
He raised his hands and the churning mass formed a large wave in front of him, therefore he could not see. Helpfully, one of his orbs watched the beast and mentally informed Seymour of where it was. He was about to send the wave crashing down of the monster; however, it quickly dashed to the side. Smart creature; however, still dead. He gracefully changed the direction of the wave so it came down upon the speedy beast; nevertheless, it was not speedy enough as the gigantic force came down. A piercing cry was heard, as well as some crunching, but Seymour was not done yet. Once the water settled on the ground, a broken lump of beast still stirred – unlucky for it, it was still alive, but not for long.
His mana shot all around the room as it collected all the water together once again. This time, it began to form a giant, airless casing around the creature. Its tries to squirm away were futile and nearly made Seymour laugh maniacally. Once in was completely entrapped in the sphere, a cold smile curled on the corner of his lips as he closed his hands. With that motion, the water sphere became smaller, as well, in a blink of an eye. The monster stopped writhing around as all its bones were broken and it was probably dead.
Seymour did not take the time to relish his success, instead he turned away to check over the two exits. He did not know what presence was behind the door, but he could assume two things: one was obviously the way to his Aeon, and the other was a deathtrap that was set by the initial sinking of the temple. Consequently, one door held what he desired and the second held a swift death by being compressed and drowning. For those reasons, he needed to be absolutely and utterly careful because he preferred his career and ambitions not to end here.
Though in the face of a live-or-die circumstance, Seymour remained relatively cool-headed and tranquil, still he was affected by blood loss, but it had stopped a short time ago, so he need not worry about it anymore. He moved to the one door and his eyes skimmed over it before advancing to the next. There was no definite way to be certain which one safe and which was not merely by looking at it. Thus, he went up to each door and lightly tapped on it. Different sounds resonated from both; however, only one sounded empty while the other sounded like it held a vast amount of water. With this in mind, Seymour moved to the door he thought was empty and cautiously and slowly opened it.
The door creaks open. This fact alone shows that you made the right decision; if the door were sumerged, the water pressure would have prevented you from pushing it open. This new room is drier than the main hall, and filled with dust, dirt, and foul smelling air. This room was the Cloister of Trials. Most temples had a series of puzzles as their Cloister, but not Baaj. There are six glyphs lining the walls, each representing one of the temples of Spira. They remain dark, only to shine once one obtains each respective Aeon. The only way to obtain Anima is to first obtain the Aeons from every other temple in Spira.
That's how it normally works, anyway. This time, however, the Fayth felt you coming. The Fayth, feeling your presence, decides to allow you an audience. The room is dark for a moment, the dark glyphs unchanging on the walls. After a moment though, the door on the other end of the room opens, and the Antechamber of the Fayth reveals itself, and behind it the Chamber of the Fayth itself.
---Fun Exp Earning Time! I, as an admin, cannot go any further without taking control of your character, something I'd rather not do. And so, I am affording you the opportunity for some extra Exp. RP your way across the room, feel free to be as descriptive or as straight forward as you want, this is just an opportunity for you to get more words in. Have fun.---
A symphony of cacophony greeted his ears, more or less, pleasantly that he would have hoped. The rusted metal door opened with a screech and much resistance, but with some effort, it was manageable. Not only was his ears assailed by his attempts at opening the door, but his nose and ears were assaulted by aged air that had been undisturbed for many years. It was stale and unmoving air, or at least, it was until he forced open the door. Dust was laced thick in the air and all around the room. Cobwebs scattered all over the place. He took one step into the room and looked around, his orbs of light accompanying him faithfully.
A simple, mental command and the spheres shot all around the room, lighting it up. Seymour knew this room very well, perhaps maybe not this room specifically, but in general, this room was a part of the Cloister of Trials. Trials set down to test the abilities of a Summoner and their Guardians. That was this room was used for; however, it was unlike most Trials as in where you had to complete a task related to the temple. The only way to access the powerful force of the Aeon, Anima, you were required to obtain all of the other Aeons before you even had a chance to enter here. Nonetheless, he was a special case. He assumed the Fayth had sensed his arrival and being who the Fayth was – his mother – she had let him pass and given him admission freely. Or at least that is what he presumed considered on the other side of the room, the door to the Antechamber of the Fayth opened up without him meeting the prerequisite of acquiring all other Aeons.
With little worry, Seymour began his trek across the grimy and dusty room. Dust irritatingly tickled his nose causing it to twitch now and then. The walls outside his orbs perimeter remained dark as he passed. The glyphs along the walls remained static, as the doubtlessly would stay for quite some time. Rarely did anyone venture to the forsaken halls of Baaj, thanks to the attack and laying waste of it by Sin. Very few people challenged the beasts that haunted the halls since its ruin; thus, it shall linger on, aging and not a soul will ever know what beauty it possessed in its prime years. It was disheartening, but it also was a thought that only made him feel nostalgic. Subsequently, he pushed the thought from his mind. The past is past and thankfully for that. He rather not experience his lonesome childhood over again, even in his memories. He did not enjoy the painful thoughts that accompanied them.
Dust floated up from the ground as he now took cautious steps towards the door. He did not imagine he would be in any danger, but being careful was better than being dead. As he got closer, he noticed a particularly magnificent glow emit from the room in which he was heading. Upon finally reaching it, he felt the need to bask in it as he pushed open the door so now it stood completely open. Taking a step inside the room, a golden, majestic light consumed him as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the setting.
The sudden change in light was disorienting, slowly but surely your eyes began to adjust and instantly you knew that something was wrong, normally the Fayth of an Aeon would begin speaking to those whom had entered immediately, however, you were not greeted with such a kindness. No, when your eye had finally adjusted stood before you was not the Fayth of the Aeon, but an unknown man entirely.
"wElCOme!" His voice was strained, it sounded almost as if he was in a state of half-madness, which would only be backed up by what he was wearing. The long dark coat with collar ending just at his jaw line, and covering his face, a white featureless mask with pure black eyes boring through it. The mask itself covered half of his head, leaving long black hair to flow freely down the man’s back; he stood in silence for a long while, those black eyes tearing straight through your very being.
"MaeSTer SEYMOUR gUadO" He took a step forward, the sound of his footfall echoing loudly throughout the large empty room, those black eyes still looking straight through you, it felt almost horrifying, as if this man's mere glance were inducing some kind of primal fear within you, suddenly questions would begin to arise, many of them, the most prominent one, however, was how he had managed to get in here.
"miND BoGglInG, iS It NOT?" He took a step forward, a strange kind of raspy, enforced laughter echoing unnervingly in the almost absolute silence of this ruined temple. A second step forward and you found yourself looking into the eyes of... Yourself. The featureless mask was gone, replaced with the exact image of your face, voices began to fill your mind, voices that were both familiar to you and alien to you, a single blink later you were stood in the deserted streets of Bevelle, this man still stood before you, your face gone, the featureless mask had returned.
"I knOW WHY yOu ArE heRe!" He raised a single hand into the air before him, a small glyph appearing just before his outstretched palm, there was a second of absolute stillness as what he was doing became obvious and then. A large hooked chain struck the ground and then plunged straight through it, seconds later the chain slackened and then became taught as it slowly pulled what it had caught upwards. Before you was the monstrous yet, recognisable form you had ventured to this place for yourself. Anima looked down at you, the intent within its eyes obvious, looking back at the man you would notice those black eyes sparking with glee as he took a step away from the Aeon and snapped his fingers.
Within a mere second the streets of Bevelle had changed, buildings had mysteriously toppled over, or had completely collapsed, fissures, both wide and deep made the once grand streets look ravaged and ugly, that would be when it would hit you. A large platform of the ground was raised above the rest of the city, defying physics. The drop was high enough to ensure that if you fell it would be to your death, you were trapped on a relatively small arena with an incredibly powerful Aeon.
"KILL HIM mY pEt!"
-[Boss Encounter: Anima]- (Image Borrowed from Final Fantasy X) Info: The great Aeon Anima, the object of your journey here and now you must fight it as it follows the orders of the strange man whom has summoned it. The man himself is out of your reach, walking around on the air high above you, try to end this fight quickly! -[1,500 words to defeat]-
His steps were light and cautious. Even outside the room, he could sense there was an error in protocol. He walked into the brightly illuminated room. It was dizzying, to say the least, and he partially stumbled in. The change in brightness forced Seymour’s eyes to adjust and it took him a moment to become accustom to the luminous environment of this room compared to the murky room he just came from. None the less, he did not need to see instantly to sense that something was wrong. The events that should have taken place (the voice of the Fayth speaking and inquiring the Summoner in question) did not occur, in fact, there was no sound at all for the most part. It was not until his eye altered that he could distinguish the obvious error and the hazard that stand before him.
Instead of the shimmering Fayth of Anima, his mother, there to greet him, there was an unidentified and mysterious man that addressed Seymour. The man’s voice was unusual. It gave the odd impression of some lunacy and some psychosis. His attire was just as peculiar and further inflated the man’s blatant insane nature. He bore a long, black cape that grazed the ground, agitating the thick layer of dust and grime. The cape had a collar that covered his neck and stopped just below his chin, for the most part, the other’s body was concealed. A rather eerie, white mask was adorned on his face. It was stark white, possessed no facial features and had two holes where two black, piercing eyes could madly gaze from. The man’s sinister and unnatural eyes were haunting as they perforated his exterior and seemed to look directly at his inner being.
Taking a step forward, the man spoke his name, which resonated through the vast, devastated sanctuary. His tread forward reverberated through the massive and empty room. How did this man know his name? Did he know this man? Was the figure striding towards him real or an apparition of his warped imagination? Those questions floated around inside his mind as he tried to speculate what the man was and how he got in here. The whole time, the man’s frightening, black eyes never left his chocolate brown ones, not even for a second. It was daunting and alarming, this man’s supernatural presence was.
The man spoke once more and he was correct, this was a certainly perplexing situation and something that Seymour did not expect. Another step forward, the man took, and it was no longer the lunatic stranger that stood before him, but himself. Or, his face, at least. It was a perfect replica of his visage and soon, eccentric voices began to assail his mind. What manner of illusion or trickery is this? The circumstance was truly vexing. He would have preferred to get what he wished and then be gone from this forsaken place, but it would appear things would not work out as he planned.
The voices stopped and the setting around him whirled and modified to the streets of Bevelle. The boulevard was empty, not a soul in sight, but Seymour and the irritating man before him. The other no longer retained the image of Seymour’s face and it had returned to the uncanny, bleached mask. The man’s voice rang out, tauntingly, once more and it was becoming rather irksome. In a harsh and cold tone that echoed in the barren streets, Seymour spoke deadly words. ”Be silent, you pestilent man. Your presence is a particularly aggravate one and I must say, if you proceed in impeding my efforts to obtain Anima, I will kill you. His words were true and honest. There were no witnesses to his unlawful deeds in this place, if he so committed them. No one would be the wiser if he slew this man.
A moment later, the other lifted his hand into the air and from his extended palm, a small, magical symbol burned into the air. As it twinkled away, an unnatural tranquillity saturated the air and Seymour knew something was about to happen, so he waited eagerly. He assumed correctly because all of a sudden, a large, metal chained materialize and plummeted deep into the earth. After a few moments of becoming slack and then taunt, it had attached to something and was now pulling it to the surface. A moment later, a large cage burst forth from the stone ground.
It took a few moments for dust and debris to settle before Seymour could distinguish what this chained entity was. He should have known, but he did not think of it immediately. Standing before him was the powerful and awe-inspiring Aeon of the Baaj Temple, Anima. To him personally, he knew it as... his mother. Seymour honestly stood there gapping for a few seconds. It was a shock to see the thing his mother had sacrificed herself for. He had denied the gift of this wondrous creature when his mother had first offered, but now as he regarded it with wide and enthralled eyes, he did not know why he had been foolish enough to reject this breathtaking and magnificent power in his early years. She would have certainly been very useful to him as he faced the numerous trials that he did. Perhaps, if he had accepted this present in his earlier and younger years, he may have been well on his way to a powerful and renowned Summoner. No matter, the past was the past and he needed to concentrate on the present and the vexing stranger who delayed him.
The man broke Seymour’s daydreaming as he snapped his fingers. The scenery around him changed drastically. The beautiful city that had previously surrounded him began to cave in and crumble. Dangerous crevices opened up and structures toppled into the black chasms and were consumed in darkness. It was a disheartening sight; none the less, he thought about it for a moment and surely that is what Spira would look like after he became Sin and ravaged the land completely. So, this illusionary version of Bevelle was a close representation of what he would unleash upon the land once he acquired the awesome control of Sin.
Suddenly, a circular, arena-like stage rose high above the ruined city below him. A quick glance over the edge confirmed his assumption that a single, wrong move would end up in him plunging to his rather untimely and unfortunate demise. Against all scientific theories, the masked man strolled around above him in the air, watching him intently. Soon, his order rang out. ”Kill him, my pet!” Forced to oblige, Anima glared at Seymour with tortured, glowing blue eyes. In that instant, Seymour grew extremely enraged with the veiled man. Anima was Seymour’s and Seymour’s alone. Anima’s gaze said everything. He knew his mother was in there; none the less, in order to liberate her, he needed to defeat her.
In a solemn tone, Seymour bowed his head and said, ”Forgive me, mother.” For the first time in his life since his corruption, the words he spoke were sincere. He missed his mother terribly and the only reason he denied Anima when he was young was because he loved his mother dearly and did not want her to die. Nevertheless, he ran away and entered a life of seclusion for some time and his mother did the – then – unthinkable. Now, he was grateful for her sacrifice because she would assist him in becoming the most powerful in order to destroy everything.
Consequently, he stood there, bare chested, staff in hand, surrounded by three mystical orbs prepared to defend and attack for him, and ready to attack his mother and what she stood for. It would only break him further, but it was something he had to do.
He closed his eyes, breathed deep. He required all the energy he had left to conquer this trial. His body tingled as he tapped into the mana pools within him. Raw magic crackled around his body. As he channelled his magic, the veins in his forehead became more prominent. These veins were a Guado trait that he had acquired because of his father. They always became more distinguishable when he utilized his mana. In an instant, his eyes snapped open and he was running forward. His three orbs followed spiralled along side him as he proceeded forward. His staff twirled expertly in his right hand. He ability to wield a staff or blade was awe-striking. Even though he was a Maester, he was not limited to no combat policies. No, he was born a Summoner and trained to be a formidable. He would not let years of training go to waste by simply doing administrative Maester duties.
Two of his three orbs launched ahead of him at Anima’s head. The shone fiercely and with a blinding light as they assaulted Anima’s head, partially distracting her. Seymour closed the distance between him and the Aeon quickly. He was swift and agile, he body was a perfect fighting device. It was a rare fact most did not know. His assailed the great Aeon with his staff. Raining down blow after blow on the beast. How much good it was doing, he did not know, but the Aeon was emitting a terrible shriek that was potentially detrimental to Seymour’s ears.
Though he just began the fight, he wanted to end it. He had been halted long enough and this man was a nuisance that he was dying to kill. Standing back, the third orb joined the other two as they attempted to deal damage to the beast. Seymour took a few steps back and was about to finish off this battle; however, he was sent flying back. At first he did not know what hit him, but the sharp pain his felt and the burns he know had on his chest, he knew that Anima had launched a Thunder spell at him. He grunted through the pain. The burn marks on his chest looked bad, but he disregarded them. This would be over shortly.
Once again diverted by the plaguing, white orbs, Seymour had a chance to focus and pool his mana into once last devastating assault. Closing his eyes, the veins in his forehead pulsated. Reaching down into his great mana pool to accumulate it into one last, ruinous attack. He felt goose bumps shiver along his arms and his hairs stand on end. His eyes remained shut as he swept his arms behind him as if he was about to throw something at Anima. That was close to what he was about to do. Releasing the vast amount of mana welled up, he unleashed a terrifying tidal wave of power and water. It was at that point he opened his eyes and watched as his finishing attack crashed down on the sidetracked monster. The attack had been powerful enough to dislodge Anima from her prior spot. Now, what he hoped was that it might drive her into submission. He would just have to see what happened.
There was a rush of wind and a sudden flash of blinding light, you heard a strange hissing sound as the light steadily grew brighter and then suddenly you found yourself back in the large open chamber, the Chamber of the Fayth. There was a loud thump as the masked man hit the wall opposite you and fell to the ground in a heap, a long silence passed as the Fayth took form before you. A further moment of silence passed as you heard the same hissing sound you had heard only moments previously, slowly the masked man started getting back to his feet. However, it was not his continued existence that was shocking, no, what was shocked was the fact that he had started standing up by bending his legs the wrong way and then using his hands to push himself back to his feet.
"sOn oF A BITCH!" Suddenly his body separated into two separate and identical beings, seemed to rapidly hover around the Fayth, stop and reform directly before you. He stood there in silence for only a moment and then he was gone, leaving you, face-to-face with the Fayth of Anima. Your Mother. Pyreflies slowly began to drift their way into the room, causing flashes of by-gone days to pass before your eyes, in this place, stood face-to-face with your mother the most prominent memory was the day she had become a Fayth, and your grief at it.
"Seymour. I know why you have come; I opened the way for you."
"I know that everything you do, you do for the best interests of Spira, you do to make a brighter future for those living in fear. Words cannot explain how proud of you I am, keep going, and if times should become rough just remember that I will always be there to guide you through them. I love you my son." Another flash of light and the Fayth was gone, but you were no longer alone, you could feel the immense power of the Aeon Anima coursing through your very being. It was almost intoxicating, such unforgiving power toward your enemies, yet a kind of gentle sense of security and reinforcing toward yourself. Your journey here was complete; however, you still had to get out before you could enjoy this power.
The change was sudden. The world around him dissolved and transformed. A large gust of wind whirled around him and visible was a blinding, white light that shone brilliantly all around. A strange hissing sound was audible; however, the source was unknown. The platform beneath Seymour disappeared entirely, but he did not fall. Instead, he found his placing back on the hard ground of the Chamber of the Fayth. All seemed calm before a fairly loud thump was heard as the mysterious man that had opposed him hit the wall on the other side of the room and fell to the ground in a pile. As the room became silent once again, Seymour believed the irritating man to be dead, but he was wrong. Again, he heard the peculiar hissing once more and this time, he knew it was coming from the other. He watched, stunned and disgusted, as the enigmatic man stood up. Although, he did not get up in a normal, human way, rather his limbs twisted as if no ligaments were present. The sight was relatively disturbing, yet Seymour merely shrugged it off. This was most likely only a sample of what disconcerting events he would see in his future.
Seymour nearly laughed as the man shouted only expletively and angrily. The man was defeated and now he was done for. His departure was strange, but it was given for what Seymour had seen from him this whole time. The man dissipated into Pyreflies and floated off, being replaced by the Fayth of Anima. His Mother. The mother he had left and the mother who had giving her life to become what she was to this day. The very sight of his mother, shimmering and gazing kindly at him, nearly brought tears to his eyes. A flashback played, the one of him running away from his mother as she told him what she was planning on doing. That day, his world collapsed entirely and his mind fell into chaos and despair. Seeing her again conjured those painful recollections of his lonely days.
Regardless, here she was, his mother, before him, speaking tenderly to him. Oh, what he would give to hold her. He knew he was older and held a position where he had to be composed at all times. Yet, he dearly wished to throw everything away in that instant, and accept his mother’s love fully. None the less, he remembered, in the back of his mind, his true purpose. Destruction. Ruin. Sin. He had to keep himself together, he could not lose it – or at least, more than he already had over the years.
His mother’s reassuring words seemed to warm even his cold and sinister heart. Before he could say a word, she dematerialized and he was left alone. Once again. Nevertheless, this time was different. He felt odd. He could feel a new strength within him. A powerful and devastating one, fully under his control. Anima. The joy of his success made his laugh with dark victory. He now possessed an overwhelming power. Very few would be able to stand before him now and survive, if they opposed him.
Now that this matter was settled, it was time to leave this dismal place of horrid remembrances and sad symbolism behind. Consequently, he left the now-dimly lit room of the Chamber of Fayth in his wake. His steps echoed through the empty cavity which was the unused Cloister of Trials. Once he was gone from this place, he had no idea who else would come here to claim a prize. Now that he had what he had come for, he could not care less about this place. It was a place of sore memories and gloomy ruin. An symbol of his unfortunate past. However, he was beyond it now, he had become stronger and he would not fail his personal mission. He would become Sin and lay waste to the continent that so deserved death and ‘peace’.
His feet had carried all the way to the great cavern in which he had entered initially. He could hear the sound of movement echo through around the hollow room, yet nothing seemed threatening anymore. He had Anima on his side and with her, nothing would be a challenge for him.
Making sure his staff was securely strapped to his back, he dove into the cool and refreshing waters that led out of the Baaj Temple. The water calmed and soothed him. He felt it was his element. He could hold his breath for a unusually long time, but he would not need to hold it too long before he reached the surface of the waters surrounding the Temple. As he emerged from the water, his ship had pulled alongside him. He felt several arms help pull him up and out of the dark waters.
”Were you successful, Maester?” One man had asked.
”Yes. I have acquired what I came to get. Gentlemen, we may head home.” The group of sailors that had formed around him departed, though someone handed him his Maester robe. Putting it on, he moved to the front of the ship to stare at the course ahead of them. He had conquered a grand power, now he was dying to use it.
-[ATE Event]- The man in the white mask slowly made his way up a long winding staircase, his long black hair flowing out behind him, his long coat strangely motionless. In his hand he held a small orb, dark purple in colour it seemed to constantly emit a strange, almost ethereal glow. The top of the winding staircase opened up into a large antechamber around its edges were eight pedestals. Quietly he placed the orb on the pedestal with a large "VII" etched into it, he looked around the chamber at the other pedestals, each of them had their own small differently coloured orbs resting on their tops.
