Ramza nodded. "Yes. Have you heard of Ivalice? I did not think anyone else from my world had been brought here."

The bartender slid a flagon of ale his way, and Ramza took a greatful sip. It burned on its way down, a welcome relief to the icy cold dread that spread across him as he realized Ashelia would not heed his warning.

"They are more than tools," he insisted. "They have wills of their own, and they will never cease seeking to free themselves from the bonds that hold them. My sister escaped Ultima's clutches, but only after the demon had drained her power to form a body of its own. If my allies had not been there to slay the Seraph, she would have taken Alma back." He had to pause a moment at the thought of that. Alma was safe now, he reminded himself.

"The other Lucavi...your 'Dark Scions'... if you must have power, use them instead of the High Seraph," he pleaded. "They at least have the capacity for to be used for good. Their power can be shaped by the user. I have seen it happen. Ultima has no such potential. She uses the elements of Light, but there is only darkness within her."