The entire place was dark. Seymour was surprised he’d made it this far without tripping — however far it happened to be, he couldn’t judge.
If he wasn’t already crazy — or far more than Yuna thought — this was going to make him so.
He could hear a voice, but he couldn’t make out the words. They didn’t matter; it was the owner of the voice that concerned him. He could swear there was a shape, something solid, forming in the darkness. It would come closer, then disappear when he swiped at it with his knife or ran away from it.
Sometimes the voice laughed at him, sometimes it insulted him — he was always insulting him unless he wanted to keep the people oblivious — but he shouldn’t be able to hear it. His panting and heartbeat should have drowned it out. Why could he hear it? Why couldn’t it leave him alone?
Why didn’t it take revenge? Why did it have to play with him?
He was right, he should be deaf to noises, deafened by his own heart and by his own breathing; he failed to hear the footsteps down the hall, and the door creak open.
He slashed at the air as another shape started to form. He wanted to scream. He wanted the lights on. He wanted someone else.
He couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk being found terrified by delusions. He couldn’t risk the people knowing how terrified, how weak he really was. He couldn’t risk anyone else knowing what he was afraid of.
And yet, what if what he was running from was real?
What if he came back?
What if his terrors were manifesting themselves into something more metaphysical, something he couldn’t escape or fight back?
"Seymour," someone said.
He didn’t think. He had no time to think. Someone gasped. Only as the knife hit the wall did he realize who had been speaking.
"What happened?" Yuna’s voice.
It was gone. He was about to cry, he was still scared and there was nothing he could do about it, nothing to fight against.
"Seymour, it’s okay," Anzi said, grabbing his arm. He dropped the knife. "It’s okay," she said, letting him fall to his knees and hide his face against her.
The lights came on. He knew Yuna was in the hallway, possibly even a few guards. They wouldn’t help him if it manifested fully.
He wondered if any of them could see him crying. Damnit, why did he have to be so weak? Why did he have to be so afraid?
What did she think of him, terrified and crying and panting at shadows, being held by someone he could legitimately order around?
"Anzi," he said, starting to ask her what he should do.
"Hush," she whispered. That was it. Let them think what they wanted, the guards included. Just sit here. Cry if he needed to, but be quiet. If he didn’t talk, no one would ask him questions. They would leave. He would wait until morning for anything else, but for now he’d hush.
…………………………………………………………………………………….
"Nnngh," Seymour managed, leaning against a wall for support. He needed a hairbrush. He needed a shower. He needed sleep. He needed a vacation, a very long vacation. He’d settle for being dead again.
"Seymour?" Yuna asked.
"Mnng," he greeted her.
"Did you get any sleep last night?" she asked. How long had she stood there watching him?
"I can’t remember," he said, closing his eyes against the spinning room and the moving walls. "I think I tried to read a book … but the words kept moving. And then … I think I tried to write something down … about Djose. Forgot what I came up with halfway through the first word … couldn’t remember what word I was trying for."
"Why don’t you go to bed?"
"NO."
"Maybe you should take it easy, at least," Yuna said.
He looked at her to see if she was being serious or considerate or condescending. He wished she’d hold still and stop wobbling all over the place first. "I can’t … I have to …um … talk with … that place."
"Kilika or Luca."
"Sure, why not?"
"Seymour, I think —" she said, reaching for him.
"I know what I’m doing!" he said, shoving her away and approaching the stairs. "I just need —"
Even if he could see straight, Seymour would have missed all the steps.
"Seymour!" Yuna yelled, grabbing his hand as he went tumbling. If only she had any clue of physics, she wouldn’t have grabbed his hand. They both crashed down the stairs.
Yuna managed to grab the banister and cling to it. Seymour’s hand was torn from hers. She stayed against the banister, waiting for the dizziness to go away.
She heard Anzi scream. Hands grabbed her under her arms and yanked her up. She had to let go of the banister or lose her arms trying to take them with her as she was hefted up.
She saw Anzi fretting over Seymour who lay unconscious at the bottom of the stairs; blood was welling from under his hair and dripping down his face.
"Let me go!" Yuna yelled, struggling against the guard who carried her up the stairs. "I didn’t do anything! Let me go! I can help him!"
The guard set her on her feet, and he and his partner each took a shoulder and dragged her down the hallway.
"You are in no trouble," his partner said. "What concerns us now, is your safety. Lord Seymour feared if such things began happening, that you might get hurt as well getting into the middle of it."
"But —" Yuna said. "What’s going on?"
"We are not allowed to tell you."
………………………………………………………………………………………
The guards stood straight and alert, waiting nervously for something to happen. No more cards, no more laughing, no more ignoring the human.
Yuna had been ordered to pack her things, ‘just in case.’ Anzi hadn’t come to help her.
Now, an hour after having finished packing while being kept in her room, the more talkative of the guards said something. He’d said the most throughout the entire time Yuna had packed, and it had been "Do you think —?" That was it.
"We have orders to escort you out of the city."
"But —" Yuna protested, as the guard took her hand and the other took her luggage.
"This will do nothing to the negotiations, Yuna," the guards said, leading her out. "Lord Seymour’s orders have been rescinded. Everything is to go back to the way it was. We recommend you return to Besaid."
"How am I supposed to get there? Swim?" she asked.
"We have full confidence in whatever you choose to do. You were not so bad for a human. Loud, though."
"Can’t I speak to Seymour?"
"He is still unconscious and he no longer has any power."
"I can heal him, at least," Yuna said, trying to stall them. It failed.
"His father said no one but Anzi was to tend to him. He will be fine."
"His father?"
The guard nodded. "Lord Jyscal has returned."
……………………………………………………………………..
"…Ow," Seymour said, waking up.
"How do you feel?" he heard Anzi ask. He didn’t feel like turning to look at her.
"Nauseated. Dizzy. I’m fine. Where’s Yuna?"
"Gone."
"One down," Seymour said.
"Seymour, this isn’t a good idea. You’re just going to get into more trouble. You know he’s already mad about —"
"Why wouldn’t he be mad about being killed? I was."
"Seymour, how can you act like this?"
"I’ve been knocked down the stairs before, just not by metaphysical coincidences. It’s only a matter of time before he learns you were involved. You know he’s not above murder himself. He’s just better at getting away with it."
"What if your father finds out what you’re planning?" Anzi whispered.
"I’ll have to think up a plan first. Yuna would have said no to this anyway, I know that now."
"Seymour —"
"Anzi, neither of us can stay here. I’ll find a way to get you out. I wish I could go with you, but it’d be too suspicious."
"You can’t stay here after that!"
"I don’t plan to. And I’m not stupid enough to repeat the same mistake twice. Besides, he’s too smart for that. Speaking of him, where is he? I expected to be yelled at and locked up by now."
"He’s dealing with an ambassador from Djose."
"Shit."
"Seymour. Concentrate on getting better before risking anything against your father."
Seymour nodded. "I’ll think of something, I promise."