#lady yunalesca

[guardiansgalore]

hey

here's a.... group

I was not ready for any of these characters even if i picked them myself

so much hair... so much difficult hair...

you can very clearly tell that i haven't drawn two of the three beings on this image ((and i've barely drawn the other)

Today we have: ms. kill your faves, god, will marry your teenage daughter

[edgemis]

Hello ladies

[starkwillendurestone]

There’s not going to be a final summoning you stupid slut! —Lady Yunalesca

[connectionxterminated]

okay so Jecht became Sin to lead his son, Tidus, into becoming a Guardian for Yuna to defeat Sin who was himself, Jecht, to save the world. While Auron on the other hand, died to Lady Yunalesca after trying to avenge Lord Braska, Kimari found Auron seconds before he died, Auron then became an unsent because he made a promise to Jecht and Braska that he'd help Tidus become a Guardian for Yuna alongside himself, Auron, and because he made those promises, he wasn't allowed jnto the afterlife until he fulfilled those promises, and when he did, he was finally sent off by Yuna herself and practically told everyone that their fates are their own to choose and to not dwell on the past. Okay. Okay this is fine. Okay. -Willow

[digeethegenie]

Last Meal Before Leaving Earth

Takes place between lv89: Freinds Gathered and lv89: Unto The Heavens

In the week that it will take to get the Ragnarok ready for the voyage to beyond the furthest stars, Yujo has invited her friends to her home. The islands of Spira. But now, on the eve of the final battle, she and her mother have one last Tête-à-tête

No CWs

The fading sun bathed the horizon in hues of orange and gold, the rolling waves shimmering like liquid fire as Yujo stood framed by the doorway of her childhood home. The salty breeze whispered memories of simpler times, of laughter and warm embraces, but her gaze was distant, shadowed by the weight of the path she’d chosen. Spira was still beautiful, its evenings a symphony of color and life—but how much longer would it remain so?

The fiery rain of falling stars, the chaotic red that had stolen so much already, seemed to hover just beyond the horizon of her mind, a dark promise. She clenched her fists. That was why they pressed forward, why no one faltered even when the odds laughed in their faces. Certain death wasn’t an end—it was merely a challenge. But even with that conviction, even with her determination solidifying like stone within her, the fear lingered.

She turned back inside, ready to say goodnight to her mother. She didn’t get the chance.

Yujo’s world tilted as she was suddenly tackled, her breath catching as warm, familiar arms wrapped around her in a desperate embrace. Her mother’s face buried itself against her shoulder, and the trembling of her frame shattered something deep within the young Lalafell woman.

“M-Ma?” she stammered, the words coming out small and hesitant.

“Come back to me, Yuyujo.” Her mother’s voice was a mix of fierce resolve and raw vulnerability, trembling as though pulled in two directions. “I mean it. I am not going to dance for you, and so help me, I swear to the Aeons and Lady Yunalesca, I will absolutely not dance for an empty coffin. So you better come back to me. Even if you have to leave the star to its fate. You come back to me. Understand, Yuyujo?”

There was a silence—an admission between the two of them that such a possibility wasn’t even conceivable. Yujo had left for Spira. She had upended her whole life for her home. She was not going to abandon the star to its fate.

The words broke, fractured by sobs, and Rorose clutched her daughter tighter, as if the strength of her grip alone could hold Yujo safely at home. Tears glistened on her cheeks, stark against her tan skin, and her fear—the fear of a mother watching her child walk into a war beyond the ken of all men—poured into every syllable.

Yujo’s throat tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. She could only hold her mother in return, her own tears falling freely now as she tried to keep her voice steady, tried to hold her determination together in the face of such raw love.

“I’ll come back, Ma,” she whispered, though the words sounded fragile. But in her heart, she repeated it, a mantra she would carry with her into every battle, every impossible moment. “I will come back.”

[fangsded]

So far, FFX is WAYYYYY better than XIII story writing wise. I actually fully understand everything that's happening the first time it happens lmao. X might just be a better game over all imo. And yet, XIII is still my favorite. Haven't quite beat X yet, just beat lady Yunalesca. X is definitely in my top five now though, it's right under XIII, it took IX's place.

[kamalahq]

benevolent gay faggotry: kefka god form, yuna, noctis, lunafreya, vanille, lightning, snow, aerith, cloud, squall, rinoa, wakka, bahamut, mr shuu, lenne, koda kumi, jade from sweetbox, leona lewis, regis caelum, nyx, serah, cosmos, terra, kupo, yuel, nobuo uematsu, curaja

malicious gay faggotry: kefka, ardyn, shiva, seymour, hope, quistiss, oaka the XXIII, rikku, yojinbo, ultimecia, the magus sisters, ixion, lady belgemine, lady yunalesca, cindy, somnus, dona, scarlet, lightning, queen brahne, cactuars, malboros, adel, yoko shimomura, fran, kuja, yevon, new yevon, etro, the astrals, the fal'cie, bhunivelze, vegnagun, master mika

malevolent gay faggotry: sephiroth, safer sephiroth, shuyin, ifrit, chaos, ardyn, kuja, ultimecia, kefka, sin, yu yevon, the astrals, the fal'cie, bhunivelze, vegnagun, trema, vayne

vexatious gay faggotry: tidus, zidane, vaan, penelope, paine, yuna, rikku, mr shuu, noctis, prompto, gladio, ignis, cindy, iris, vanille, fang, lightning, snow, hope, sazh, noel, isaaru, sephiroth, caius, seifer, lenne

salacious gay faggotry: noctis, tidus, ardyn, snow, wakka, sazh, ifrit, shuyin, prompto, auron, zack, gladio, the luca goers, jecht, nyx, caius, noel, barthelo, squall, seifer, cid, baash, balthier, baralai, gippal

[soartfullydone]

@editoress asked: A kiss to prove a point for Yuna and Seymour. 

Yuna’s return to Bevelle was no homecoming. The holy city of Yevon had stopped being home the moment her father, Lord Braska, left for his pilgrimage to defeat Sin. Her father, who she loved but knew better through other’s stories and memories than her own. A father who had brought the Calm but never returned.

A father whose footsteps she tried walking alongside rather than step-for-step. Yuna wanted to defeat Sin forever, to bring the Eternal Calm, one where no more summoners and their guardians had to die for a hollow victory. She wanted to end the spiral of suffering in Spira.

She felt farther away from achieving that future than she’d ever been. She couldn’t see her father’s steps. He had never walked this path before.

“Bevelle has never known such a lovely bride,” said a deceptively soft voice as its owner entered the room. “Nor will it again.”

Yuna’s attendants scattered, fleeing the room wordlessly as Maester Seymour approached. The train on Yuna’s wedding dress swept across the dark, marbled floor as she turned to find him in striking black robes, his chest covered and a white cravat at his throat. Her groom. “Please,” she said, with all the kindness and authority she had as a summoner, “let me send you.”

“There is no need for that.” As Seymour raised his hand, the sleeve of his robe exposed how his fingers were a little too long to be fully human, his nails talon-like but well-kempt. “I don’t plan on remaining as an unsent for much longer.”

If she had her staff, Yuna would begin her dance, fruitless though it would be. Defiance rose like a pyrefly’s glow within her, but the only show of it she could make was to ball her fists. The silk gloves she wore didn’t even give her the satisfaction of friction. “Nor will our marriage last. So why…?”

Why go through with this farce? Why abduct her from the heart of the Bikanel Desert, from her guardians? Why dress her like a blushing bride, in pure white with wings of freedom upon her back, if what she would marry was a patricide and undead malice personified? 

“I told you,” Seymour responded. “To give the people of Spira hope.”

Yuna might’ve trusted the answer more if he’d displayed any hints of irritation, but he was as serene as when he’d first proposed to her. Her heels clacked too loud against the stone floor. “How will you give them hope,” she asked, soft but firm, “when you have none yourself?”

Seymour’s eyes met hers, and it took everything Yuna had not to recoil. Was it because he was unsent that his eyes appeared so devoid of life, of feeling? Had that spark she’d seen when he’d talked of Lady Yunalesca and Lord Zaon in Guadosalam been real, or had he always feigned at life? “You have enough,” he replied bluntly, “for us all.”

“No,” Yuna replied, on the cusp of hopelessness herself. “This isn’t about hope. Not for you.”

“If I tell you I love you, will that make it easier?”

“Only the truth will do that.” Yuna squared her shoulders, the action built of a quiet but dogged resolve she had always possessed. For a long time, she believed it had come from her father. Now, she believed it was born from the tenacity of her mother’s people, the heretical Al Bhed. “Why did you murder Lord Jyscal?”

Seymour’s mouth slanted into a mockery of a smile. “Didn’t his sphere tell you? You killed me over it, as I recall.”

“Yes.” What did you call an emotion that was neither all pity nor all rage? Yuna didn’t know. “But I’m asking you.”

“Yuna.” He said her name so wistfully, so futilely. “What does it matter?”

“He said he couldn’t protect you or your—”

“Protect me?” Seymour’s soft tenor dropped dangerously low. “What a curious interpretation, considering he never once tried to.”

There was no mistaking his eyes for being lifeless now. Their purple depths gleamed with an unholy wrath, a mixture of pain, hatred, and bitter amusement. But his face… The skin had gone so pale it was close to translucent. The Guado veins arching down from his forehead were to blame. They were so shockingly blue against his bloodless skin, Yuna almost believed if she were to reach out and touch one, they’d prick her finger. 

“He confessed to his failing, and—”

“No,” interrupted Seymour, advancing a step. Then another, gliding ever closer. “No, Yuna, I do not believe he confessed to anything.”

Forgetting her surroundings, Yuna’s back collided with the floor-length mirror behind her, crushing the tiny angel’s wings sewn into her dress. The glass was shockingly cold against her skin, but at least it was a natural cold. Yuna went very still as Seymour loomed over her, giving off no warmth. His hand cupped her cheek, sending a chill down her spine.

“My father foolishly brought a child into the world that no one wanted. An abomination.” Seymour brushed his thumb along Yuna’s cheek to soften the cruel worlds, but Yuna was all too aware of the sharp tip of his nail. “Instead of condemning the people’s hatred, he succumbed to it. I grew up in exile with my mother, whose only crime was bringing that abomination into the world. Both of us shunned because he chose them over those he should’ve loved.”

His breath was a cool mist as he leaned his face toward hers. For a wild, frightening moment, Yuna thought he’d kiss her. “It was my mother who took me to Zanarkand. My mother, who made a sacrifice of herself for my sake. She became a fayth, so I would use her as an aeon. So that when I defeated Sin, the people would finally love me.” 

“An aeon,” Yuna breathed, shocked. “You don’t mean—!”

“Anima, yes. In a way, you and I have upheld a long-standing marriage tradition. You’ve gotten to meet my mother.”

Yuna shook her head, unable to process the events at Macalania Temple all over again. Of what was happening now. The maester seized her, his touch becoming biting in keeping her still. “Surely, Lord Jyscal didn’t—”

Seymour’s haunted, grief-stricken expression hardened into deepest loathing. “My father knew of the whole affair, and still he did nothing. He let her die, let her take part in the world’s endless suffering. And still, still, I could not go home, remaining at Baaj alone. So tell me, Yuna. To a summoner who fights to give all for Spira’s sake, does that sound like protection to you?”

Yuna didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The images Seymour painted were too horrific to contemplate, and yet she did. The events played out in her mind, and she saw what a child would see and felt what a child would feel at watching the only parent he knew sacrifice herself. Yuna didn’t know when it happened, but at some point, she didn’t see the child Seymour had been and his human mother anymore. In their place was Yuna, as she’d been at seven years old, and Braska, his broad back the last thing of him she’d ever see.

Seymour brushed away Yuna’s tears, his touch tender and his voice a soothing coo.  

“Yes, a part of you understands,” Seymour continued, a hair above a whisper. “I see it there, shadowed in your beautiful eyes. You don’t want to acknowledge it, but you do.” His mouth curled ruefully. “In another life—no, in another world, perhaps, we would have been a good match. We might have learned to be happy.”

“We still can,” Yuna tried, “if my pilgrimage continues.”

“Your pilgrimage ends here, my love. Be grateful. Nothing awaits you in Zanarkand but death. I’ve seen it firsthand. Even if you survived it, it would never let you go.”

Seymour did, but it was only long enough to reach for the gossamer fabric that would serve as her veil. He worked with sure, gentle hands to pin the veil to the tiara fashioned on the crown of her head, the rest of her hair pinned in an elaborate up-do. It was all gone, the emotion that had shattered his tranquil expression and inflamed his speech. Now, he was a groom breaking the most sacred of traditions, seeing his bride before the wedding. Worse, he was adding the finishing touch himself without the slightest hint of joy, anticipation, or lust.

Yuna would take lust if it meant being free of this sudden lifelessness.

He’d taken the edges of her veil to pull over her face when she stopped him, her hands catching each of his wrists. “Is this,” she challenged, “to save Spira?”

“There is no saving Spira,” Seymour answered at last. “Its spiral of suffering will continue unless someone brings it to an end. Not just Sin, but life. The world. Everything.”

“You truly believe that’s the only way?”

“I know it is. And which is more merciful? Letting the world’s pain continue, or bringing it to a peaceful end?”

Yuna’s eyes, one Al Bhed green and one blue like her father’s, flashed. “I cannot accept those choices.”

“I know that, too. But your fire, as beautiful as it is, is why you suffer.”

“And yours,” she rebutted, “is because you can’t see why any of it matters. Why we fight. Why, even now, my friends are coming for me. Seymour, life is about so much more than suffering.”

Yuna let go of his wrists, burying her hands instead into his robes and the fabric of his cravat. She pulled him down fast, closing her eyes. Seymour gave no resistance as her mouth found his. Yuna kissed him, tentative and scared at first, but he was right. Her fire was never far, and she reached for it now. Finding her nerve, she slid her mouth deliberately against his, her tongue darting out to brush his lips.

It changed everything. Seymour moaned into her mouth, sending a deep vibration straight through her. Defenses broke down and their lips moved together, an unspoken question meeting its forbidden answer. Seymour’s hand clutched the back of her head over the veil while his other found the curve of her waist, bringing her flush against him. It didn’t matter anymore that his body gave off no warmth when his mouth was so hot. The kiss—the need it had uncovered in them both—turned desperate. Yuna found herself willing to succumb to its sweet poison if she could just—  

With a surge of strength that would make Kimahri proud, Yuna broke the kiss and shoved herself away from Seymour. “No!” 

They both stumbled back, Yuna out of breath but with Seymour fairing no better. His eyes were wild with want, but all too soon, they narrowed with suspicion and resentment. Seymour looked alive, felt it, and that realization brought him to his full height, a hand upon his mouth. He was torn between wiping Yuna’s kiss away or pressing the remnants of it there to immortalize forever. Instead, he did neither, remaining frozen to watch Yuna’s next move, the summoner proving she was less prey than predator, one biding its time for a day like today. 

But where the flush of desire clouded his face and caused him to hesitate, righteous anger hardened her features and strengthened her resolve. 

“It’s only suffering, remember?” Yuna said coldly into the quiet space between them. “That’s all life is. You don’t get to have more. You don’t want to have more.”

Outside, Bevelle’s temple sounded the hour, signaling that it was time for the wedding to proceed.

[toggle1-mrfipp]

Opera Omnia Burst Theme 4/?

In the first three posts I covered all the songs that were used for characters tht were able to receive their respective BTs, as well as put up my own suggestions for ones that had not gotten them. The rest of these posts will be more or less self-indulgence on my part as I list characters that could have gotten into the game, as well as songs that might have been used for them.

Final Fantasy I Matoya: Matoya's Cave

Final Fantasy II Gordon: Dungeon Josef: Escape! Ricard Highwind: Ancient Castle

Final Fantasy III Sara Altney: Jinn, the Fire Cid Haze: Sailing Enterprise Aria Bennet: Aria, Maiden of the Water Doga: Let Me Know the Truth Unnei: Let Me Know the Truth (Remake) Luneth: Boss 2 (Remake) Arc: Dungeon (Remake) Refia: Battle 1 (Remake) Ingus: Forbidden Land Eureka

Final Fantasy IV Tellah: Tower of Zot Cid Pollendina: Hey, Cid! Zemus: Final Battle (Pixel Remaster) Scarmiglione: Battle with the Four Fiends (Pixel Remaster) Cagnazzo: Battle with the Four Fiends (Dissidia) Barbariccia: Battle with the Four Fiends (FFXIV) Luca: Dancing Calcabrina Harley: Edward's Harp Gekkou: Battle 1 (Pixel Remaster) Izayoi: Mount Ordeals Tsukinowa: Into the Darkness (Pixel Remaster) Zangetsu: Battle 2 (Pixel Remaster) Maenad: The Eidolons Shackled

Final Fantasy V Ghido: Library of the Ancients Boko: Go, Boko Go! Enuo: The Decisive Battle Final Fantasy VI Umaro: Umaro's Theme Gogo: Gogo's Theme Banon: The Returners Ultros: Grand Finale Ghost: Phantom Train

Final Fantasy VII Red XIII: Red XIII's Theme Tseng: Shinra's Full Scale Assault Elena: Hurry Up! Hojo: J-E-N-O-V-A Loz: Beyond the Wasteland Yazoo: Battle in the Forgotten City Genesis Rhapsody: The SOLDIER Way Nero the Sable: Fight Tune: Messenger of the Dark Rosso the Crimson: Fight Tune: Crimson Impact Azul the Cerulean: Fight Tune: Killing One Another Elfe: Theme of Elfe Roche: Ignition Flame

Final Fantasy VIII Ward Zabac: Silence and Motion Kiros Seagill: Ride On Edea Kramer: FITHOS LUSEC WECOS VINOSEC Adel: Lunatic Pandora

Final Fantasy IX: Blank: Vamo'alla Flamenco Marcus: Sword of Fury Lani: Battle 1 Mikoto: Bran Bal, The Soulless Village Black Waltz No 3: Battle 2 Thorn and Zorn: Jesters of the Moon Garland: Master of Time

Final Fantasy X Rikku: Start or YRP, Fight No. 1 depending how her kit is built Gunner Yuna: YRP, Fight No. 3 Yunalesca: Challenge Leblanc: Let Me Blow You A Kiss Logos: Infiltration! Leblanc's Hideout! Ormi: Anything Goes For Leblanc! Baralai: New Yevon Gippal: Machima Faction Nooj: Youth League Lenne: 1000 Words (FFX2 Mix) Shuyin: Their Resting Place

Final Fantasy XI Zeid: Fury Volker: Battle Theme Star Sibyl: Heaven's Tower Semih Lafihna: Battle 2 Ajido-Marujido: Battle in the Dungeon 2 Trion I d'Oraguille: Battle in the Dungeon Curilla V Mercu: Ronfaure Maat: Tough Battle Shadow Lord: Awakening Aldo: Battle 3 Gilgamesh: Battle in the Dungeon 3 Ulmia: Onslaught Tenzen: Isle of the Gods Naja Salaheem: Mercenaries' Delight Luzaf: Black Coffin Razfhad: Hellriders Cait Sith: On This Blade Lady Lilith: Goddess Divine Larzos: Kindred Cry Morimor: Steel Sings, Blades Dance Teodor: Monstrosity Balamor: Clouds Over Ulbuka

Previous Entry Next Entry

[braskide]

i know in the game it is barely highlighted if not in very specific situations that also have the weight of the plotline on it, but when you think about it truly, tidus has always had endless devotion towards yuna. it's caught early on, and it is not casuality he is later seen ( although never completely and openly addressed ) as the true guardian. what yuna and tidus share is the pure essence of what traditional yevon is based on: what zaon and yunalesca had, pure sacrifice in the face of endless devotion. in my head i see them as a symbol of delivering justice. tidus the silver sword, the vessel and the shield and yuna as pure personification of justice, lady justice in mythology if you will, always depicted with her sword and blind. the connection is kinda accurate as well: yuna has been blind to the truth, unwillingly removed from it at many times, and tidus has always been the one to bring her back to the path to make it so that she would deliver.

and in the end, deliver she will. without false hope, as she says herself.

it is iconic how seymour will make sure to tell yuna that lady yunalesca has not defeated sin alone. seymour wanted to be that same silver sword, but in a way that would make lady justice not guided in truth, but in blood and self realization. i doubt seymour has ever wanted to see a world in which he could live as himself, naked of the power necessary to make himself valuable in the eyes of yevon ( and his father, but that's another story ) and thus an end in destruction seems the only possible solution, and if not that then turning himself into his own justice through yuna.

it has been said before but i always like to repeat it: seymour, tidus and yuna are always connected in a form of triforce ( of doom, if you will ), and the game never fails to work in triple symbols: jecht, braska and auron for example. they're interconnected through the entirety of the game and even after seymour's and tidus' death they continue to live on, i fail to find irrelevance in the legacy of both of them, even though in the sequel we only focus on tidus, it's kinda impossible to avoid the memory of seymour.

[ofmoonlily]

Spira's Archives

Maechen: Shall I tell you about the Spira of days long past, eh?

Maechen: There is a legend, you know. Just before the horrible Sin appeared…a terrible war raged between Bevelle and Zanarkand. When the armies of Bevelle attacked Mount Gagazet, they heard a song echoing across the snowy slopes. “‘Tis a song from an otherworld,” they said. The soldiers panicked and ran. And then, as if to pursue the retreating armies, Sin appeared! Some time later, scouts from Bevelle braved the mountain. On the other side, they witnessed the ruins that had been Zanarkand. The city destroyed. Not a single soul left standing. Gone! In its place, a multitude of the fayth had gathered on Gagazet. They were singing a song. It’s the song we now call the “Hymn of the Fayth.” And that, as they say, is that. Well…maybe not all of it.

¬Maechen: Would you like to hear the rest?

Maechen: Rumors flew in Bevelle about Sin’s sudden appearance. They said that the people of Zanarkand became the fayth, that they had called Sin. And that the man responsible…was none other than the summoner Yevon, ruler of Zanarkand! Yes, the lord father of Lady Yunalesca. On the eve of Zanarkand’s destruction, Lady Yunalesca… had fled to safety with her husband, Zaon. Later, the two used the Final Summoning to defeat Sin. Yet the people of Bevelle still feared Yu Yevon. It was to quell his wrath that they revered him, and first spread his teachings. And so were born the temples of Yevon. I suppose it’s possible Yunalesca had planned it that way from the start! A fair trade, she defeats Sin in exchange for her lord father’s honor. Of course, there’s no proof. No, the facts are lost in the mists of time. And who’d admit Yevon was an enemy of Bevelle? You can bet the temples had a hand in covering that one up! And that, as they say, is that.

¬Maechen: Like to hear more, would you?

Maechen: Let me tell you about the Hymn of the Fayth. It was once a Zanarkand song, sung in defiance of Bevelle! Of course, the Yevon clergy of Bevelle forbade it. Then, as these things often go, those who disliked Yevon began to sing it. The Al Bhed, for instance. The Hymn of the Fayth became the symbol of defiance against Yevon. Yevon could do nothing but capitulate. They lifted the ban on the song, and spread a new story. They said the hymn was a song sung to soothe the souls of the dead. And so saying, they took the song and made it scripture. That’s why today, the hymn is sung all over Spira. You could say that, though Zanarkand is gone from this world, it lives on in the song. Aaaah, but look at the time. I’ve rambled on again. I do love stories, you see. Well, I owe you my gratitude for hearing this old scholar out.

[codeviolations]

we are attempting the lady yunalesca boss fight again today

[wine-to-living-gold]

FF10s truest and best boss fights had something like this, Seymour and Lady Yunalesca. Not only was it heavily emotional story wise, but then you had this new debuff to deal with and you would have to shuffle through dispelling to heal or keeping it to not get insta-deathed. Zombie would proceed to be like, never important again, but boy oh boy did it make for some truly fun bosses.

So help me, I love JRPG bosses with stupid meta strategies that exploit some quirk of the mechanics to ruin your day. Like, yeah, cast a spell that changes my primary damage-dealer's damage type to an element the boss is healed by, and I can't even remove it because it's technically a buff and all of the condition-removing effects specifically don't remove buffs. Give me a boss whose passive aura grants spell reflection to the opposing party, which in practice prevents me from healing myself but doesn't hinder the boss at all because literally all of their attacks are physical type. Go on, make it weird.

[miss-midnightt]

Okay, but, how would Freyja react coming across old recordings of Auron when he was about 25 and travelling with Braska and Jecht, seeing how reckless, selfless and chaotic he had been compared to how calm, cold and distant he is now? How would she react to the recording of him trying to avenge his friends from Lady Yunalesca but instead being killed in the process?

Oh, she’d CONSTANTLY egg him on, telling him to “go back to his roots” and to “be the bitch you wish to see in the world”. Lmao.

[digeethegenie]

Pages of History

Spoilers up to Lv 80 - Shadowbringers

Another Time, Another Place : In a timeline where- instead of G'raha Tia- The Warrior of Light sealed themselves into the Crystal Tower and thus he had to take on the role of hero, The Crystal Exarch is brought before the Don of Eulmore to explain their City-State's affairs to him.

Threats of Graphic Violence, Gendered Slurs

The Crystal Exarch, Lady Yunalesca's nose wrinkled. She genuinely hoped that she was smelling the odor of the run-down shanty town outside the elegant walls of Eulmore.

Turning to see the two jester-clad women beside her, she could only notice how they stood smiling as she and they stood at the large double doors leading to The Don of Eulmore's abode. The only reason she could come to was that they had mentally blocked out the smell from long term exposure.

The doors opened and she approached.

Vauthry of Eulmore was, in many senses, eminence.

A Man- and he made sport of violently correcting anyone who called him otherwise- who towered over the tallest gladjent in height, and was ten times the volume of all of Eulmore's obese free-men.

He sat on his throne, an extended kline which sat him, his harem of forgiven obscenities- angelic, women-formed sin eaters who placidly lay at his side, and a Forgiven Cruelty, a lion type sin eater doing much the same.

That he was able to bring even the ferocious Cruelty to kneel was proof of his power.

The two jesters bowed and gave way for the two city leaders to have their parlay.

A completely insincere smile crossed Yunalesca's face. "Lord Vauthry. How pleasant it is to have you summon me to your wonderful city once gain. How long has it been since our last meeting? Too long, I'd reckon. May I say how humbled I am to not only be invited to Eulmore, but to have yet another chance to parlay with the razor sharp wit of its leader once again."

As if something was jabbed in the jowls of his many-fold blotches of fat, Vauthry shifted as he sneered. "Spare me my well deserved adulation, Exarch. Your disingenuous mummery is an exercise of futility. Let us dispense with pleasantries. This merry band of heretics people are calling the 'Warriors of Darkness' has put a number of sin eaters to the sword."

Yunalesca slowly lowered her head. "I am aware."

"As well you should be. By all accounts, The Crystarium is complicit in their villainy. I even hear reports that your people are obstructing my soldiers."

Yunalesca's hooded head lifted up. "I wouldn't suppose that report came from General Ran'jit, by any chance?" She tilted her head. "Oh, do excuse me, I believe that the last I heard, he had been stripped of rank and honor. I have to ask, I wonder how that came to be?"

Vauthry didn't respond.

"Incidentally, Vauthry. How is Minfilia doing?"

"That is irrelevant." Vauthry hissed out and made a point to stare at the Exarch. "I am asking you. What do you, and yours in that hovel you call a city state, think you are doing interfering in my affairs?"

Her grip on her staff tightened.

"Your affairs, is it? Well I suppose it would be. I would hope that it would be clear- to even you- that the defeat and sending of a lightwarden represents the world's only hope for survival. I know for a fact that the people of Lakeland and Il Mheg- which are not part of your protectorate, indecently- rejoice at the return of the natural night. After a century of fear and seeing their lands and people being consumed by a cancerous blight, they have a means to fight back. And yet, you choose indolence. Why is that?"

"Why?" Vauthry asked, lifting one of his bloated, bejeweled, hands up. "Simple. This is a hollow victory. A fever dream in service to futility. This world is dead, sin eaters or no. It is beyond salvation."

He didn't hear Yunalesca clenching her teeth at the suggestion.

"With all but one small continent with little in the way of land and resources. All the people would be 'free' to do is starve, and then go at each other's throats. All you win with the end of the sin eaters is a slow, painful death for Man."

Her hood hid the fact that the Exarch could see the copious amounts of food, both prepared and picked that littered the place.

"They require not the hand of the other, which would stab them and they in turn would do the same. But the firm hand of a shepherd. The hand of a king- no, a god! As long as they remain under me, I shall see to their lives fulfilled and them never left wanting for bliss. Mine is the dominion of order, one without Man's fickle and vague ideals- which they yearn for not knowing their cost, but one that guides them but with the tiny speck of fear that is required, Exarch."

As his grand speech came to an end, he didn't notice Yunalesca's free hand clench as she realized what Vauthry was saying, and what he had accepted of himself.

"My dominion is sanctuary. And they shall find none in this world bar what I afford them. That is why the sin eaters exist. They are my agents, those who unite all under my dominion."

"A puppet king to usher in the Eighth Umbral Era…" Yunalesca uttered to herself

"What was that?"

"No, nothing. Just a minor epiphany of no note."

Yunalesca took a breath. Weathered the malice that ran rampant in its infested air, and sighed.

Then she struck the ground with her staff.

"You have never wanted for dominion over others, Vauthry. Those who defy you ether come to submit at your heels, or die. What I see before me is a child, twisted into a bloated monster of privilege and unchecked power. A hopeless Don of Dons. He who has no faith in Man."

Vauthry squinted.

"That lack of faith is misguided. Yes, history is littered with achievements born only by conquest, but that bloody book has in it gilded pages, each telling stories of compassion and understanding. History has no end. This calamity of cancerous light is but another crisis to overcome. And that will happen with the elimination of the light-wardens."

A smirk came to Vauthry's face. "I thought you better than a deluded old woman. The people only care for the now. They have no care for a paradise only given after a millennia of toil. Ask even a century of work and they will tear you limb from limb."

"You are wrong. Vauthry. I have seen it. People who have shed blood, sweat and tears to sacrifice everything for a future they will never know. One that even their children might never see. I have seen it in the lands, the peoples, and cities. It is our duty to defend those hopes and dreams, so they can be bequeathed to the those who come after. So history's pages may turn."

Vauthry's tone made it clear he was bored. "So to surmise, my dear Exarch. You give your support to these heretics?"

"And more, yes. Nothing ever ends, and I have faith in the future they would build, unbound by the chains of your hopeless paradise."

"Oh, why did I even bother?" Vauthry uttered to himself. "Well, Exarch. We will agree on one thing. That you are hopeless." He threw himself forward. "You pathetic, foolish, old woman! Do you really think I didn't know your alliances before? As you prattled on, my armies march to the defense of the light wardens. I will see the heretics beheaded. Their skulls on pikes. They will forevermore make my point clear. That insurrection will not be tolerated!"

His bloated hand glowed with magics unnatural.

"The people of this world are mine! Mine to rule. Mine to command…"

Yunalesca readied herself, knowing full well what Vauthry meant to do.

"… AND YOU, MY DEAR YUNALESCA, ARE NO EXCEPTION!"

With a level of force that his body made seem impossible, he threw the ill shaped wave of magic out. The aether tearing at the gilded marble floor and blowing the door off its hinges. His smile was of unending glee as he saw the figure of the Crystal Exarch melt in the purple light, only to hear the tell tale swizzle and pop of a return spell.

"What!? When did she-?"

Yunalesca's parting words hung in the air. "We will meet one last time, Lord Vauthry. And when we do, I hope that I can convince you of the error of your ways."

"INSOLANT BITCH!" Vauthry cried out, slamming his hands onto the cushion of his kline. The sin eaters lying around him screeching as if in sync with their master.

"I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS! YOU AND YOUR CITY WILL ROT ON A PIKE LIKE THE DOGS YOU ARE, YUNALESCA! DO YOU HEAR ME!?". His long, impotent cry rang out throughout Norvrandt like the childish temper tantrum it was.

= = =

Yunalesca re-appeared in the Ocular and stumbled. Lyna was quick to catch her. Gasping out of exhaustion, The Exarch's form melted away to leave a small, pointy-eared, child like being- what this world would call a 'dwarf'- in the arms of the viis woman.

"I'm sorry." she said, opening her eyes to reveal the shining pools of aether blue within, and explained the events of her parlay with Vauthry. "I tried, but there was no reasoning with him anymore. I can only hope that 'Raha and the Scions will have better luck with the remaining light wardens than I did."

Lyna nodded and took Yunalesca into the Umblicus to sit her down on one of the free chairs. She then motioned a salute to the child-sized woman. "I will dispatch a party to warn them of-"

"No, don't." Yunalesca said, holding her partly crystallized hand out. "Vauthry all but declared a strike on The Crystarium. We need as many people on hand here as possible."

The rabbit eared woman nodded solemnly as Yunalesca leaned back on her chair, sighing with exhaustion.

"I am sorry to ask, Lyna, but…?"

The viis nodded, "Of course, Gran." She picked up the dwarven woman in her arms and took a hidden exit to allow her to take Yunalesca in secret to her chambers.

She, and her forces, would need all the strength they could gather for the coming battle.

[sevi007]

random thought: Braska named Yuna after Yunalesca. The irony that the woman he named his child after is the one who not only sentences him to death, but also one of his friends, must have been crushing. When you name your kid after someone famous, it's partly to inspire the kid to follow by example. He was taught that Yunalesca was kind and generous and saved lives. And now he finds out that he named his kid after a monster. What a fucking hit huh?

I seriously thought about this when they stood facing each other and Yuna refused to take the path Yunalesca wanted her to go. I think Seymour kind of dropped the fact that Yuna was named after Yunalesca when he proposed to her and somehow likened his and Yuna’s possible marriage to Yunalesca and her husband (who’s name I forgot again; sorry man)

And somehow that suddenly came back to me in that moment because:

Here was Yunalesca, sacrificing her husband, her people, and the generations afterwards for... I don’t even fully know anymore for what, because it was not peace, it was a life of fear and sacrifices and Sin. She did not save anyone, imo, she doomed everyone. If she had ever loved, anyone, then it was long, long gone.

And then there was Yuna, refusing to lose anyone ever again, refusing to stand down in the face of someone she had been taught to worship and follow without question, because of love.

I just really liked this parallel-opposite kind of thing that was going on in that very second.

They both had a very similar decision to make in a relatively similar situation, and each one choose the complete opposite of the spectrum. It was, just, really amazing.

(Als Braska’s Yuna is like ten thousand times better than her name giver. Suck it, Lady Yunalesca. XD)