Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Deadly Game ❯ Real Dream ( Chapter 4 )

Deadly Game

by Maya Brisa

 

Chapter 4: Real Dream

 

"Mother, watch me dive!" little Seymour called, floating about 10 feet in the water. He kicked his small legs as he readied himself for the deep blue.

 

"Seymour, be careful. I don't want you hurting yourself." Anima chided gently. She was sitting on a small blanket with a picnic basket.

 

"I'll be okay!" Seymour yelled giggling before taking a giant gulp of air and plunging down into the water. Anima watched intently, not of interest, but of concern. Minutes and minutes passed and Anima didn't see her son surface... Little did she know, her son had come up on the other side of a rock pass and was already crawling across the sand to get behind her.

 

"Seymour!" she called, worry in her voice, "Seymour?" Anima stood up and stepped off of the blanket, making a move to approach the water. Seymour was crouched down and sneaking up on her fast.

 

"Rar!" he yelled, wrapping his little arms around his mother's waist. Anima's shoulders jumped as she turned on one heel to look down at her son.

 

"Seymour Guado, you scared me!" She scolded him, looking very serious. With a swift and stern motion she unlatched her son and squatted down to face him, holding his shoulders.

 

"Don't you ever do that again, young man." she sobbed a little, "You nearly frightened the life out of me." Seymour's face was turning pink as large tears began to well up in his eyes and that plump lower lip started to tremble.

 

"Mamma..." he whimpered, clumsily rubbing his fist over his eye. Anima softened up real fast as she gathered her child into her arms, squeezing him tightly. She let him go after a moment and wiped his tears, "Honey, don't do that again, okay?" she said in her normal, sweet voice.

 

"Okay." he choked between a hiccup still rubbing his eye.

 

"Do you want another sandwich?" she asked, nodding for him. He nodded too.

 

"I have to go up and make some more. Sit down on the blanket here and drink your juice." she said, patting his head and guiding him to the blanket. He sniffled loudly as he plopped down on the soft fabric.

 

"I'll be right back, dear." she reassured him walking toward the rock ridge.

 

Seymour sat blowing bubbles through the straw as his bright eyes playfully scanned over the water. He knew his mother would return so he had no shred of worry. Lost in his bubble sounds he went cross-eyed, trying to stare down at the straw. He continued to do so until he heard a faint cry. His pale indigo irises darted up at the water, focusing.

 

"Hello?" he called staring at the surface. The cry sounded again; almost sad. Seymour set his juice box down and stood up to amble away from the blanket. The cry made him forget anything his mother had said to him not ten minutes before.

 

"Hello?" he called again, his little feet at the water's edge. He dared to take a step in with little to no fear. Moments later he saw someone in the water. Smiling widely he trudged into the waves wagging a chubby hand in the air.

 

"Hello!" he chirped swimming toward what he thought he saw. It wasn't long before Seymour's feet were no where near ground... Pretty soon he could barely keep his head above the water, his own weight tiring his arms. He yelled out as he watched the person he saw disappear. Fear struck every nerve in his body as he strained to choke for air as an undertow caught hold.

 

"Mother!?" Seymour screamed before going under completely...

 

"Help!?" Seymour yelled sitting up swiftly. He panted heavily as he looked around realizing he was still on the beach and not 5 years-old.

 

"It was... a dream...?" he asked aloud, running his hand over his head, "It seemed so real..." he trailed off staring at the water. He couldn't remember that far back so it was amazing that his dream was so crystal clear. Of course he was unaware of this. He shook his head and stood up placing his hands on his hips.

 

"What was I doing...?" he asked himself, focusing on the sand. He furrowed his brows while he thought on it.

 

He tapped his lips a second, "I came out here for something..." he paused, "That seagull!" he exclaimed turning around, "No... it flew off... it hit me... I..." his eyes went to the wall, "I hit my head..." he mumbled touching the back of his skull. To his surprise, there was nothing there. Not a bump, not a scratch, not even so much as a trace of pain.

 

"What... happened...?" he spoke, quite perplexed about the whole situation. He tongued his cheek before looking down at his shirt. It was soaked in the front and so were parts of his pants. His hands fumbled clumsily over the damp fabric, each finger questioning the fiber.

 

"How in Spira did I get wet...?" He was completely vexed. He'd been laying in the same place for what seemed like hours, never once going to the water--How was it that he became wet? Out of the silence and soft crashes of waves, his stomach made itself heard.

 

"I guess I should go eat..." he said, biting into his lip. He scanned the ocean once more, then the sand around; Nothing. With a sigh he ambled his way back to the beach house.

 

*****************

 

“I don't know, Mom. I think someone else is on this Island too.” Seymour said into the sphere. Anima was sitting in her kitchen in Besaid.

 

“Maybe there is someone else living on the other side. It's a large place, you never know.” She assured her son, smiling as she sipped her tea. Seymour had a cup as well, but he wasn't really paying any attention to it.

 

“I hit my head pretty hard, but I'm perfectly fine. I guess it's just a little weird. I know I saw someone... at least I think I did.”

 

“Well, when you get the chance, have your Al Bhed friends take you around the Island and see. You should thank whomever it was, they saved my baby after all.” she chirped, sipping her tea again.

 

“I suppose...” he started, picking up his own cup of tea, “So... how have things been. I know it's only been a few days...”

 

“Just fine, dear. Don't worry. You can come home when you want. I think the break is doing you some good.” Anima smiled, tapping the sphere, “You stay as long as you like.”

 

“Thanks, Mom. Mm, I had a dream while I was out.” he began, rimming his tea cup with his finger.

 

“You did? What about?” she asked, interested as always.

 

“I was five years-old and I was swimming while you watched over me on the beach here at Baaj. It seemed more than a dream--I remember the picnic... but after that it's very fuzzy--I guess it wasn't a dream.” he muttered. There was a long and thick silence. Seymour watched as his mother's face became plain; her lips a thin line.

 

“I have to go, Seymour...” Anima said solemnly reaching her hand over to press her fingers onto the sphere's tab.

 

“Mom? What's wrong?” he asked quickly leaning toward the sphere.

 

“I don't expect you to understand... I'll see you soon, sweetie. Love you.” And with that... the sphere conversation was terminated.

 

“Mom...?” Seymour echoed, staring at the empty static. He punched her number in again... the sphere only gliched--Anima had turned it off completely. Seymour shook his head and sighed heavily, getting up from his seat at the dinner table. Right now, the kitchen was his least favorite room.

 

“What did I say wrong?” He asked himself going up to his room. Breakfast had been short and sweet, but now his stomach was sour with what his mother had said. He didn't feel up to reading or walking on the beach. The sky was overcast and feeding his melancholy. Napping sounded like his best bet, and so he did.