As part of his plan to become Sin, Seymour needed a summoner to choose him as the fayth for her Final Aeon. He set his sights on Yuna and proposed to her in order to forge the bond required for that sacrifice.
But did Seymour truly see Yuna as nothing more than a tool for his ambitions? Let us take a closer look.
Yes, Seymour intended to use Yuna for his plan. That much is undeniable. However, Seymour is not made of stone. There is genuine fascination, admiration, and even love in the way he looks at her.
The tragedy is that, in his case, those feelings are completely poisoned by loss, trauma, control, and his unresolved attachment to his mother.
In other words, Seymour does feel love — but he does not know how to express it in a healthy way.
To Seymour, Yuna is like a light. Her determination, her kindness, and her willingness to sacrifice herself all echo the image of his mother. Yuna becomes, in his eyes, a potential “holy” partner in his ideology of death: someone who could give meaning to his tragedy.
There are also clear parallels between them. Both Seymour and Yuna are of mixed heritage. Both lost their mothers at a young age. Both carry the expectations of Spira on their shoulders. The crucial difference is that Yuna does not fall into despair.
Perhaps that is why Seymour is drawn to her.
The Kabuki version makes this even more painful. Near the end, Seymour says that Yuna is strong, just like his mother. That line says so much to me.
This shows that Yuna is not only useful for his plan. She also touches the part of him that still longs for his mother, for release, and for peace. Seymour does not look at Yuna in one simple way. His feelings for her are tangled together with grief, admiration, projection, and his broken idea of salvation.
That line makes his attachment to Yuna even more tragic to me. He does not only see Yuna as herself. He sees his mother, release, peace, death, love, and hope all tangled together in her. That is why the way he looks at her feels so sad to me.
There is something beautiful in the fact that he can still recognize light in someone else, but it is also deeply unhealthy. Seymour turns Yuna into the answer to everything he lost, and no person can carry that.
Dissidia Final Fantasy Opera Omnia makes this connection even more painful. Seymour admits to Yuna that he admired her. They were born in similar circumstances, but Yuna shined in a very different environment.
That line says so much about Seymour’s sorrow, his envy, and the part of him that still understood beauty and light, even when he could no longer reach it.
Yuna is not only useful to his plan. She also represents a life he never had: someone who was loved, guided, and able to choose hope instead of despair.
Yuna is everything he is not. She is gentle where he has become cold. She accepts sorrow without surrendering to it. She walks toward death, yet still chooses hope.
Seymour, who has built his entire worldview around suffering and release, cannot help but be fascinated by someone who carries pain without letting it consume her.
After becoming an Unsent, Seymour’s feelings for Yuna spiral even further out of control. His admiration becomes obsession. His desire to possess her becomes twisted and desperate. In the end, he is even willing to kill her.
The Final Fantasy X Ultimania Omega basically says what I already felt: Seymour’s feelings for Yuna became a twisted love. He did need her for his plan, but that was not the only thing happening. Yuna was never just a tool to him. After becoming an Unsent, everything inside him spiraled out of control.
That is what makes his attachment to Yuna so tragic and dangerous to me. There is admiration there, but it is poisoned by grief, control, obsession, and his broken idea of salvation.
And yet, it is Yuna who finally sends him.
At the end of his path, Seymour is sent to the Farplane by Lady Yuna, allowing him to rest in peace. Perhaps, beneath all his ambition and cruelty, that was what he truly wanted all along.
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