Hythlodaeus had been wandering Amaurot... the re-creation of Amaurot, everything filled with familiar colours wrapped up in the all-permeating, familiar hue of Emet-Selch's aether, and he would claim his heart was breaking at the finality of the ghostliness of it all, but he knew that his own form was ghostly, as well.
He did not have a heart. Merely the memory of it.
Still, it was sad, and sadder yet, to consider his friend, and all the pain he must have been to create all of this.
His steps paused, catching something different with his aethersight. Not Emet-Selch, but material all the same, even if with aether much thinner than he would have expected, and he directed his steps in that direction. Oh... Someone was here. And he was hurt, but alive.
Hythlodaeus stepped into the room where the person was, sitting quietly. The wound, if he looked carefully, had the barest traces of the colour of Emet-Selch's aether. The presence was not happenstance, then. He must have brought the slight, scarlet-clad figure here himself.
G'raha sat against a wall, head leaning back and staring at the room's high ceilings like they might present some sort of escape. They hadn't so far, but maybe if he kept staring.
He trusted the warrior of darkness, the other scions, he knew that somewhere they were probably working tirelessly to defeat Emet-selch, and that they'd probably rescue him in the process because that's what they do - if they've forgiven him for lying to them, that is.
It frustrated him, though, to be stuck here and unable to help them, help himself. There might have been something more he could have done, but battered and bruised and cut off from the tower as he was, there was little to do but wait.
He startled at the approach of another figure, tried to push himself to his feet but found his trembling legs didn't want to support his weight and he just slipped back down the wall again with a muffled yelp of pain. Then he looked up at the figure in front of him and huffed a laugh at his own stupidity - this wasn't Emet-selch or an enemy come to do him further harm, just another of this city's echoes going about its remembered life.
"Please excuse my presence." He said wryly "I hope it is not an intrusion, but I fear I have nowhere else to go." Whatever this room was supposed to be for, he could be fairly certain that storing prisoners wasn't it.
"Easy, now. I am sorry, I cannot support you, should you falter, nor provide much aid - immaterial as I am. You would be best served to rest, for now."
Hythlodaeus was aware his speech sounded different, but he had understood the diminutive figure well enough, and so he hoped he would be understood, as well.
"It is we, I believe, who do not belong here, nor now. You need not apologize."
He hesitated, then added, "and, for all I know he usually has his reasons for doing what he does, I must apologize for the injury that was inflicted on you by Emet-Selch."
One made with a projectile that Emet-Selch had created, rather than the - demonstrably - nigh immeasurable magical abilities of the man. He must have had a reason to keep him alive, too.
Hythlodaeus wished he could properly speak with the man itself, but, other than being tasked with some things, that had not been permitted.
He was aware of the phenomenon of his ears hearing unfamiliar words but his mind understanding them anyway, but that didn't make it any less strange to encounter. The response, too, was unexpected - from his minimal understanding of the shades populating this memory city, they were none of them so.... self aware as this one seemed to be.
Aware of not only itself, but the situation they were in, it seemed. G'raha was curious and grateful for the kindness in equal measure.
"You needn't apologise for somebody else's actions." He said with a shake of his head, then laughed slightly at the overflowing politeness they were both showing.
"Now that we have established that neither of us are required to offer apologies," he started, deciding to let the curiosity win out - he hadn't anything else to do while he was here, after all "I can't help but notice you seem... different to your fellows."
"Heh, heh, heh. It is more complicated, in this case - Emet-Selch and I were good friends, once." He was rather used to apologizing for him. Even more so to speaking up when Emet-Selch could not find the words, especially with people he had not known long.
"I assume that, when he was re-creating Amaurot, he may have had a stray thought - Hythlodaeus would realize the truth, or something to that effect." Or he had wished for it... he knew better than to hope for things like that, but he could hardly help himself.
"Ah, how remiss of me. My name is Hythlodaeus, and I - used to be, a long time ago now, Chief of the Bureau of the Architect. I can hardly do much but keep company, but if you wish it, it is on offer."
G'raha listens with obvious interest - he was tired, and worried, and injured, but he was still curious.
A friend of Emet-Selch... it was not completely unsurprising, the man was obviously charismatic and he thought he was doing the right thing - once upon a time, when this Hythlodaeus was living and knew him, he was doing the right thing, as far as he was concerned. He acted to save his people - still was, G'raha knew, he just couldn't condone such efforts when they resulted in the deaths of so, so many.
"Company would be welcome." he admitted, since he was driving himself slightly crazy on his own and perhaps this conversation would be useful "I am known as the crystal exarch... but you may call me G'raha." There wasn't much point in still keeping the secret, now.
Once Hythlodaeus knew more about the situation - and, especially, the one that was now the Warrior of Darkness - he could chime in with some opinions that might at the very least amuse, and certainly both satisfy and pique curiosity. As it was, his own curiosity was rearing its head.
"Well met, G'raha, and, though your introduction to it must have been far from pleasant, welcome to Amaurot, the seat of the Convocation of Fourteen - Thirteen, lately, really - and where they used to guide the course of the star."
He raised his masked face, though he knew there were possibly malms of water between them and the sky. "Back when there was but one, that is."
No, he wasn't zealously claiming that the will of the Convocation was to guide everyone now. Not at all.
"Crystal exarch. Was that title given as a reason for what is happening to you, a result of it, or unrelated entirely?"
G'raha inclined his head in agreement to the comment about his introduction being less than pleasant - it was something of an understatement, but he wasn't about to dwell on it particularly.
So, this had been the seat of government back when there was only one star... interesting that the number of shards echoed the number of this Convocation. He filed that away for later consideration, and turned his attention instead to the question asked of him.
"They are related, but not cause and effect," he explained, lifting his crystalline arm a little, curling the fingers into his palm as he studied it for a moment before dropping it back into his lap.
"The title is a result of my stewardship over the crystal tower, the tower is a source upon which I can call to engage in great magics... but they are not without their price. Without the tower I would have neither title nor this physical affliction...but nor would this star have its saviour."
There was a reason, to Hythlodaeus's knowledge, why that connection - multi-layered, really, as far as he used to know the person responsible - but as the question is not asked, he doesn't know that particular tidbit of information is of interest, so he doesn't volunteer.
At the response, he tilts his head slightly, considering, then inclines it, accepting the answer. Well he knows the dismay of lacking sufficient power to do what he sees needs to be done. And now, in this form, even more so than ever.
"You have found a way to augment your strength to do what needs to be done." The masked face looks up. "I can understand that it can be a price one pays willingly."
There was a lot on everyone's minds upon the return from Fanow. Emet-Selch's claims were still floating about in the back of everyone's minds. Y'shtola being retrieved by a snap of fingers. Yet they returned with another Light Warden down and with just as many questions as answers. In reality, they had set out to do what they had intended to. Perpetual light ceased to be, opening up the skies for the true night to bless the trees; the people can now look up through that canopy and see the stars winking and blinking down at them. A sight that had not occurred in nigh a century.
Now it was a time for rest, for regrouping. While Theo and the rest of the Scions didn't hesitate to return to the Crystal Exarch to inform him of what all had transpired, at one point Theo dismissed himself. A soft smile, albeit tired, was given to the twins before he he left them all to further discuss, if needed. The Viera simply reassured them that he merely needed rest. Nothing more.
Upon return to the room, Theo pushed open the windows and continued to sit on the ledge proper. Just aquamarine eyes gazing out into the darkness of night. Theo wasn't unaware of the Light within him wanting to burst forth. Every now and then when he coughed, a disturbing white color would appear. It was a sign that the Viera now recognized, but he continued to hold himself together. Theo would hold himself together for the First. For the star. His friends. Yet seeing the Viis of the First as a bit much. It was alarming to note how many differences there were yet how many things were the same. For a moment, Theo felt as though he was staring back at his own home.
He missed them, his brothers and sisters. Missed his blood sisters more now than what he had when he first left. This is where Theo's mind wanders for the evening - thoughts about them. How were they fairing? How would things have been different he was still there instead of here. It wasn't something that he really allowed for himself to think, to reflect upon. Only because of where he had just come from do the thoughts seem to linger.
Another sharp pain made itself known in that moment. Theo felt his vision swimming, unfocused. It brought on another series of sharp, painful coughs. They were painful and wet as he pulled himself away from the window. No one needed to see Theo like this. Thus did he stumble his way towards where he could wash his face. Noticing the white on his shirt, he peeled the layers off and tossed them aside for the time being.
And Theo would try to get the taste - or lack there of - out of his mouth and soothe the ache.
The twins weren't entirely reassured that he only needed rest, and neither was the Exarch when they told him how tired Theo had looked when he'd made his excuses.
It isn't that G'raha doesn't trust that Theo knows what he's doing, or that he can't look after himself, but he's responsible for bringing the warrior here and the last thing he wants is for him to come to any harm - whether that harm be physical or emotional.
(It's not that anybody knows how Theo was affected by the visit to the Viis, just that they can tell something is wrong and they're not sure what that something might be - or if it isn't anything at all and he really is just tired)
G'raha second guesses himself half a dozen times before deciding there really isn't any harm in checking, so he makes his way to the Pendants and the room that has been given to Theo. Before he can talk himself out of it (again) he knocks.
Later, he would blame the pounding in his head being the reason why he didn't hear footsteps approach his door. His ear twitched towards the knocking and slowly Theo's gaze followed. Naturally someone would check up on him. Theo was hardly surprised that his companions would think to do so. The Viera considered sending whoever it was about their business, but that would only invite more questions and would do nothing to alleviate concerns. Besides, it was only because they were worried. Nothing more than that and, truthfully, Theo would likely do the same.
"One moment," he breathed, pushing himself away from the little sink-like space in the room. The red mage picked up the discarded shirt and set it aside and snatched up a different one before making his way towards the door.
Ears perked up and forward upon seeing the Crystal Exarch before him, the only expression of surprise. This was not who he anticipated the moment he opened that door. That shirt was still in one of his hands.
"A surprise indeed," Theo mused, taking a step back to allow the other access.
G'raha's eyes sweep over the Viera's exposed chest - checking for obvious wounds, of course, and no other reason - before landing on his face. There's a sheepish smile on his face below the hood.
"I apologise, I'm interrupting." He says, but since Theo is stepping back to allow him entry he steps in anyway - he's determined to properly check up on the man and if he isn't going to be stopped he'll take the opportunity he can get. He glances around the room as if checking for anything amiss before he turns back towards Theo.
"I shan't intrude long, I simply wanted to see how you fared. Alisaie mentioned you didn't quite seem yourself when you all returned from Fanow, is aught amiss?"
The other wouldn't find anything, save for a couple of bruises here and there. It was the only real evidence from the battles that they had fought - proof that Theo utilizes the enchantments placed upon his rapier to proper use. Given that the Exarch hid under that hood, Theo had little idea that the gaze was a wandering one. He shook his head in response, shutting the door.
"Little wonder she did not march up here herself," Theo replied. "Did you convince her to refrain from coming here or did her brother?"
Deflection, somewhat. A shifting of the focus from the reason that others would be worried and concerned to Theo being concerned with them. He walked away from the door, deeper into the room and proceeded to slip on the shirt he had selected, exposing the expanse of his back as he did so. Theo preferred to wear clothing that didn't hinder his movements when outside, but to sleep in? He was someone that liked baggier attire.
"I told her I would come in her stead, that's the only thing that stopped her." He admits with a faint huff of laughter, his eyes following Theo as he moved deeper into the room, still studying for any sign that he isn't simply tired from yet another battle "Don't think I didn't notice the way...you..."
The sentence trails off into nothing, G'raha's eyes widening beneath his hood as he stares at an all-too-familiar mark between Theo's shoulderblades. It is, admittedly, a mark that he has previously only ever seen in an awkward, twisted way - the perils of looking at one's own back in the mirror - but still it is one he would recognise anywhere. He had studied it often enough, in the hope of finding its twin.
To find it here, now, when his own had long since disappeared beneath the crystalline sheen that covered so much of his body, he's stunned into silence, unsure what to say, what to do.
Theo's lip quirks at the thought. "Aye, that sounds like something that would need done."
Since that was her way. Theo had long grown accustomed to the twins and their own unique brands of fussing. The Viera turned, gaze fixed on the Exarch now that he had stopped speaking. Don't think I didn't notice... Notice what? Theo was certain he never informed anyone of what the Light was doing to him. No one needed to worry about that, lest they think Theo unable to see this through. Which he would.
His head tilted to the side a bit, an ear dropping with it. "The way I...?"
The words snap him out of his shock, and even without the tell-tale twitch of his ears, tucked as they are neatly beneath his hood, it's obvious that he starts slightly at the sound of them.
"You avoided the question." He finishes smoothly - he knows he can't hide the way he flinched, but he hopes that by pressing on he can at least make Theo forget about it and not ask too many questions of his own.
"Are you well, my friend? If I report back to Mistress Alisaie that you refused to answer for your current state, she will return here herself."
He's not above using the fear of Alisaie to keep the conversation on the right track, even as his mind races at this new revelation.
Would Theo believe him, if G'raha told him without evidence? Would he be angry to learn the identity that G'raha has hid from him, since he can't very well reveal such information and still keep it hidden, can he?
More importantly, is it fair to tell him when G'raha still has every expectation of sacrificing himself for their cause?
There’s never enough time. From the First to the Source, one adventure to the next without pause, without rest, without time to process or say good-bye.
They've told him he’s fine — better than fine, even. More than he had been before. Purged of his excess light. Cleansed. And utterly unharmed (at least, physically).
He doesn’t argue. Doesn't mention that, weeks on, his nervous system, forehead to fingertips, still roils in quiet moments, the whole-body churning of a bad hangover. Doesn't ask about the strange green life that sprouts from his skin or whether the color will ever come back to his hair. Doesn’t tell anyone that fine feels far away now.
Because there are so many already lost, and too many more he can yet save. Because a smile better suits a hero. Because, well, there's just not enough time. Too much else to worry over. Like this Allag business, and the mess that’s come along with it.
Truth be told, Viktor doesn’t quite get it. Maybe he would’ve if he’d paid attention, but that debriefing had gone on and on without so much as a snack break. All political theater and over-delicate diplomacy. Not nearly enough actionable planning or meat miq’abobs. And, oh—Shtola had been there, too, and in his estimation, her presence was a free ticket to turn off his own brain. Details, remembering, that's her wheelhouse.
But, Allag. Weird, right? They’re back. Or…revealed? Something like that. Hopefully better behaved than they had been a few eras ago. Ostensibly eager to peacefully rejoin the world stage — after an obligatory diplomatic tour of the Allied Nations, of course.
Of course. And that’s why Viktor is here. Home. Vesper Bay. Standing so near to the former headquarters of the Scions — a proximity that is thankfully only fleetingly painful. Who better to escort the crown prince of Allag across Eorzea than the Warrior of Light, himself?
Having grown tired of waiting for the procession of diplomats and guards to disembark, Viktor steals a glance at himself reflected in a nearby window. He’s just getting over the shock of his still unfamiliar pearly gray hair when his gaze settles on the reflection of the ship and the outline of a familiar form setting foot on land. Viktor thinks passingly that the line of his mouth, perfectly reflected by the glass, is so achingly right that it might make him sick. Entirely undignified, he whips around, heart and head fighting over who it is exactly he expects to see.
His head wins out. A miqo’te, yes, but a whole one. No blue crystal skin, no walking staff, no wise, mysterious smile. Viktor does his best to school his disappointment. His voice cracks all the same when he chirrups, "Well met…er, your highness?"
Edited (i promise my other tags won't be this long dfjha) Date: 2024-03-12 03:16 am (UTC)
Waking up from his little jaunt to the first had been... jarring, to say the least. His consciousness had stretched back near a century and he'd lived through it all, only to find that barely a few weeks had passed here in the source. A hundred years of ruling the Crystarium, of guiding its people, of growing close with its people. If it were only that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad - a little stifling, perhaps, to go back to the low pressure life of being Allag's prince, but at least it would prepare him for the day he was expected to take the throne.
But it hadn't been only that.
His heart aches for him, for his 'warrior of darkness', for the saviour of the First that G'raha had grown so close to. The other scions, too, of course he counted them as his friends and he dearly missed all of them, but Viktor...
The final moment haunts him. He'd felt increasingly guilty, concealing his identity from the viera, concealing a lot of things from him really, and he'd hoped to fix that at the last, but he'd moved too slow. He'd almost reached for his hood when the crystal stilled his arm and suddenly the moment had passed, he could only look upon Viktor's stricken face as the rest of his body was overtaken and his mind was hurled back to the source without a chance to say what he really wanted.
He didn't even really have time to process any of it, for no sooner had he returned that he was being dragged into meetings about Allag finally (finally) taking its place on the world stage. There had been too many threats in recent memory, and their agents abroad had brought back reports about the Eorzean alliance and their increasing move towards peace - about the scions, and their tempering influence on proceedings.
(That, he knew, and now he had seen it in action he could only agree)
The world, it had been decided, may be ready for them. It was at least ready to learn that Allag persisted, ready for a diplomatic visitor to get a closer look at the state of the world - and G'raha was to be that visitor.
It had been his idea, his whim, really, to suggest that he ought to have some kind of guard against any threat that might befall him, especially from the threat of Garlemald, and that it would be a perfect show of good faith from the Eorzean Alliance to convince their own champion to be that guard.
He hadn't expected anybody to actually agree, and yet the arrangements had been made. He had the voyage to get used to the idea that he was going to see Viktor again. It wasn't enough. At least his entourage were kind enough not to pry too much at their prince's apparent edginess the whole journey.
When he's actually stepping off the ship, he still isn't ready, but his eyes immediately seek out Viktor nonetheless. There's something about the way his head whips round, something about the tone in his voice, that look in his eyes... is there recognition there? Fear and hope swell in equal measure.
"Call me G'raha, please." He says, in defiance of protocol. At least one dignitary within earshot gives him a scandalised look but he ignores it, he's too eager to hear his name from Viktor's mouth. "You must be the famed warrior of light, we have heard many tales of your triumphs even in Allag."
He has to at least pretend at some semblance of a proper introduction, however much he's desperate to ask if Viktor knows, if he realises, how he feels... okay he's a little terrified to know how he feels, unsure if Viktor will hate him for the subterfuge of it all...
It takes a second for Viktor to shuffle himself back together. First body language, loosening from startled to confident. Then expression, that familiar, easy smile settling on his features. His head is the holdout. That posture, that voice...
But he is no stranger to seeing lost faces reflected in strangers or hearing familiar voices long silenced. It never gets easier — he just bulks up to shoulder it better. He reminds himself that he can't muck up such a precarious diplomatic endeavor.
Viktor pulls in a breath, quells the misplaced excitement in the back of his mind, and...there. Somehow taller, somehow sturdier, somehow stronger. He is the Warrior of Light once more.
Recompiled and oblivious to the glowering of onlookers, he finally echoes that name, "G'raha."
Just as with every name on the First, it's as though he tastes the sound. G'raha is soft and warm, honey on fresh bread. Different from Crystal Exarch, a name that, even at that first, tense meeting, had seemed like a strange new candy in his mouth.
"It's nothing. I keep busy." Also familiar: his near total ineptitude as a diplomatic speaker. "Ah! I mean, thank you. A pleasure to meet you. I am eager to learn more about your people, as you learn of ours." Viktor's gaze quickly bobs from head to head in the assembled crowd before settling back on the Allagan prince once more. He is handsome in a way that hurts Viktor's heart, but he doesn't let it show. His head lists to the side, and his smile goes a little silly. "Will I also be guarding your entire entourage?"
It's strange, G'raha thinks, to watch Viktor change in front of his very eyes - he doesn't quite understand what he's seeing, what it means, but in mere moments the man standing in front of him is every inch the Warrior of Light, completely composed, and there's so little hint of the expression that crossed his face before that G'raha almost wonders if he imagined it. Wishful thinking, perhaps, that Viktor might recognise him and he wouldn't need to confess?
He wants to ask, but he daren't - not in front of onlookers, at any rate - so instead he just smiles and nods when Viktor echoes his name and tries not to swoon at the sound of it like some over-eager fan.
Even if that's exactly what he is, in some ways, even after so much time spent with him.
He has to lift a hand to stifle his laugh as Viktor stumbles over his response, earning another disapproving look. He knows he's being too casual, too familiar, but he can't stop himself - he already knows it's a fool's errand, trying to stay aloof and in control as the Crystal Exarch didn't exactly last so there's no point trying it as the Prince of Allag either.
"Indeed," he agrees "I hope we can learn much from one another."
At least that's the proper thing to say, but he ruins it by laughing again - this time he doesn't even try to stifle it, chuckling lightly at the comment and shaking his head with a smile.
"Blessedly, no. Many of those who have come with me are engaging in various talks here in Ul'dah, I will have a much smaller group of attendants travelling with us, but rest assured I am the only one whose safety you need concern yourself with."
He'd wanted to travel with Viktor alone, but that had apparently been unthinkable, so he'd wittled the actual group down as much as he could possbly manage.
Viktor's patented Warrior of Light smile cracks wide, visibly pleased with G'raha's informality, his laughter. He responds with breezy confidence, "You will be safe with me." A pause, Viktor glances past G'raha's shoulder to look upon the crowd of Allagans before returning his attention to the prince. He winks. "Your companions as well. No worries."
It feels like a lie after losing so much so quickly. But his friends had coached him, advised him against showing weakness or being too honest. An unknown nation at their doorstep, one claiming to be Allag, a civilization known mostly for its violent starring role in Hydaelyn's history. Even Viktor had understood right away that confidence and caution would be key.
Still, this Allagan prince laughs and smiles so easily. Like a friend. Viktor turns away to look at the flat-topped stone buildings surrounding them, trying to escape the growing tightness in his chest. "Er--can you get away? From your handl--your party, I mean. For a walk around Vesper Bay." He sweeps a red-sleeved arm out, gesturing toward the marbled square. "I know this place well. A good start to your tour of Thanalan."
"I'm sure I will." G'raha agrees, pleasant and genuine. He has nothing but faith in Viktor's abilities - he's seen them in action. If asked, of course, he can fall back on the Warrior of Light's reputation
The question has him sneaking a glance over to the assembled entourage, realising that they've mostly been drawn into conversations about accommodation and itineraries and transport and therefore are paying less attention to their prince than they probably should be. He glances back at Viktor with a grin.
"If we go now." He says. It isn't that they'd stop him necessarily, but they'd certainly want someone to accompany him, and he'd rather take the opportunity to spend some time alone with Viktor. He isn't sure how often those chances will come along on this trip, so he'll take them where he can.
"An international incident does sound fun," Viktor muses. For another, it might've been tough to tell whether he was being sarcastic or serious. G'raha, though, likely recognizes this glint of honesty in his demeanor: with Viktor, it's always a bit of both. He drops his voice to a stage whisper, knocking his head toward the city proper, ready to play at breaking the rules. "Then, let's be off, G'raha."
The promise of excitement has its usual invigorating effect. Viktor moves like a spring loosely coiled, his paces half-bounding away from the crowded ferry. One, two, three steps away, he pauses and turns back to make sure his new charge is following. Already, that Warrior of Light persona is giving way, and just Viktor shines through. A wiry man, tall as a palm and dressed, as always, in the vibrant red-and-white colors of a healer, even with that ax strapped to his back.
"The way the sea and the karst meet here..." he inhales, the salt, the sea, the earthy smell of damp rock all rushing to greet him. "It makes Vesper Bay feel always like the start of an adventure."
A scholar might, at this point, have launched into a spiel about the history or architecture of Vesper Bay and Horizon. A better tour guide would've pointed out one of the market stalls or talked up the menu at the Pissed Pieste. Viktor is neither of those things. He fixes his attention on G'raha, and tries not to search his fine features for things he knows aren't there.
G'raha stifles another laugh - this time it's not propiety he cares about but about being too loud and drawing attention - and nods.
"Let's indeed." He agrees, glancing over his shoulder once more to make sure he isn't being watched and then scampering after Viktor - between his quick pace and taller stature, G'raha needs to almost run to keep up, but he's certainly not complaining about it.
He catches up easily enough and grins up at Viktor, already feeling the thrill of being around him, of getting to see the real man behind the legend - he's caught glimpses of it enough back on the First, but that doesn't make him any less addicted to seeing it. He, too, is allowing himself to be a little more himself, instead of the serious Crystal Exarch with the weight of the world upon his shoulders.
"Well, perhaps this is the start of an adventure." He says with a smile, catching himself before he says something obvious about wanting to go on an adventure with him.
Catches himself, too, before he answers Viktor's question with you.
"I've read so many stories, I hardly know where to start," he admits "Where is your favourite place?"
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timeasmymeasure
let's go with potentially missing scene; feel free to swap to brackets if preferable
Date: 2024-03-05 02:29 pm (UTC)He did not have a heart. Merely the memory of it.
Still, it was sad, and sadder yet, to consider his friend, and all the pain he must have been to create all of this.
His steps paused, catching something different with his aethersight. Not Emet-Selch, but material all the same, even if with aether much thinner than he would have expected, and he directed his steps in that direction. Oh... Someone was here. And he was hurt, but alive.
Hythlodaeus stepped into the room where the person was, sitting quietly. The wound, if he looked carefully, had the barest traces of the colour of Emet-Selch's aether. The presence was not happenstance, then. He must have brought the slight, scarlet-clad figure here himself.
Re: let's go with potentially missing scene; feel free to swap to brackets if preferable
Date: 2024-03-05 02:52 pm (UTC)G'raha sat against a wall, head leaning back and staring at the room's high ceilings like they might present some sort of escape. They hadn't so far, but maybe if he kept staring.
He trusted the warrior of darkness, the other scions, he knew that somewhere they were probably working tirelessly to defeat Emet-selch, and that they'd probably rescue him in the process because that's what they do - if they've forgiven him for lying to them, that is.
It frustrated him, though, to be stuck here and unable to help them, help himself. There might have been something more he could have done, but battered and bruised and cut off from the tower as he was, there was little to do but wait.
He startled at the approach of another figure, tried to push himself to his feet but found his trembling legs didn't want to support his weight and he just slipped back down the wall again with a muffled yelp of pain. Then he looked up at the figure in front of him and huffed a laugh at his own stupidity - this wasn't Emet-selch or an enemy come to do him further harm, just another of this city's echoes going about its remembered life.
"Please excuse my presence." He said wryly "I hope it is not an intrusion, but I fear I have nowhere else to go." Whatever this room was supposed to be for, he could be fairly certain that storing prisoners wasn't it.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-05 03:39 pm (UTC)Hythlodaeus was aware his speech sounded different, but he had understood the diminutive figure well enough, and so he hoped he would be understood, as well.
"It is we, I believe, who do not belong here, nor now. You need not apologize."
He hesitated, then added, "and, for all I know he usually has his reasons for doing what he does, I must apologize for the injury that was inflicted on you by Emet-Selch."
One made with a projectile that Emet-Selch had created, rather than the - demonstrably - nigh immeasurable magical abilities of the man. He must have had a reason to keep him alive, too.
Hythlodaeus wished he could properly speak with the man itself, but, other than being tasked with some things, that had not been permitted.
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Date: 2024-03-05 03:51 pm (UTC)He was aware of the phenomenon of his ears hearing unfamiliar words but his mind understanding them anyway, but that didn't make it any less strange to encounter. The response, too, was unexpected - from his minimal understanding of the shades populating this memory city, they were none of them so.... self aware as this one seemed to be.
Aware of not only itself, but the situation they were in, it seemed. G'raha was curious and grateful for the kindness in equal measure.
"You needn't apologise for somebody else's actions." He said with a shake of his head, then laughed slightly at the overflowing politeness they were both showing.
"Now that we have established that neither of us are required to offer apologies," he started, deciding to let the curiosity win out - he hadn't anything else to do while he was here, after all "I can't help but notice you seem... different to your fellows."
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Date: 2024-03-06 08:29 am (UTC)"I assume that, when he was re-creating Amaurot, he may have had a stray thought - Hythlodaeus would realize the truth, or something to that effect." Or he had wished for it... he knew better than to hope for things like that, but he could hardly help himself.
"Ah, how remiss of me. My name is Hythlodaeus, and I - used to be, a long time ago now, Chief of the Bureau of the Architect. I can hardly do much but keep company, but if you wish it, it is on offer."
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Date: 2024-03-06 09:57 am (UTC)G'raha listens with obvious interest - he was tired, and worried, and injured, but he was still curious.
A friend of Emet-Selch... it was not completely unsurprising, the man was obviously charismatic and he thought he was doing the right thing - once upon a time, when this Hythlodaeus was living and knew him, he was doing the right thing, as far as he was concerned. He acted to save his people - still was, G'raha knew, he just couldn't condone such efforts when they resulted in the deaths of so, so many.
"Company would be welcome." he admitted, since he was driving himself slightly crazy on his own and perhaps this conversation would be useful "I am known as the crystal exarch... but you may call me G'raha." There wasn't much point in still keeping the secret, now.
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Date: 2024-03-06 10:11 am (UTC)"Well met, G'raha, and, though your introduction to it must have been far from pleasant, welcome to Amaurot, the seat of the Convocation of Fourteen - Thirteen, lately, really - and where they used to guide the course of the star."
He raised his masked face, though he knew there were possibly malms of water between them and the sky. "Back when there was but one, that is."
No, he wasn't zealously claiming that the will of the Convocation was to guide everyone now. Not at all.
"Crystal exarch. Was that title given as a reason for what is happening to you, a result of it, or unrelated entirely?"
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Date: 2024-03-06 11:24 am (UTC)G'raha inclined his head in agreement to the comment about his introduction being less than pleasant - it was something of an understatement, but he wasn't about to dwell on it particularly.
So, this had been the seat of government back when there was only one star... interesting that the number of shards echoed the number of this Convocation. He filed that away for later consideration, and turned his attention instead to the question asked of him.
"They are related, but not cause and effect," he explained, lifting his crystalline arm a little, curling the fingers into his palm as he studied it for a moment before dropping it back into his lap.
"The title is a result of my stewardship over the crystal tower, the tower is a source upon which I can call to engage in great magics... but they are not without their price. Without the tower I would have neither title nor this physical affliction...but nor would this star have its saviour."
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Date: 2024-03-26 02:11 pm (UTC)At the response, he tilts his head slightly, considering, then inclines it, accepting the answer. Well he knows the dismay of lacking sufficient power to do what he sees needs to be done. And now, in this form, even more so than ever.
"You have found a way to augment your strength to do what needs to be done." The masked face looks up. "I can understand that it can be a price one pays willingly."
Hythlodaeus never did.
"This savior. They are worth it?"
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From:soulmate au
Date: 2024-03-10 09:36 pm (UTC)Now it was a time for rest, for regrouping. While Theo and the rest of the Scions didn't hesitate to return to the Crystal Exarch to inform him of what all had transpired, at one point Theo dismissed himself. A soft smile, albeit tired, was given to the twins before he he left them all to further discuss, if needed. The Viera simply reassured them that he merely needed rest. Nothing more.
Upon return to the room, Theo pushed open the windows and continued to sit on the ledge proper. Just aquamarine eyes gazing out into the darkness of night. Theo wasn't unaware of the Light within him wanting to burst forth. Every now and then when he coughed, a disturbing white color would appear. It was a sign that the Viera now recognized, but he continued to hold himself together. Theo would hold himself together for the First. For the star. His friends. Yet seeing the Viis of the First as a bit much. It was alarming to note how many differences there were yet how many things were the same. For a moment, Theo felt as though he was staring back at his own home.
He missed them, his brothers and sisters. Missed his blood sisters more now than what he had when he first left. This is where Theo's mind wanders for the evening - thoughts about them. How were they fairing? How would things have been different he was still there instead of here. It wasn't something that he really allowed for himself to think, to reflect upon. Only because of where he had just come from do the thoughts seem to linger.
Another sharp pain made itself known in that moment. Theo felt his vision swimming, unfocused. It brought on another series of sharp, painful coughs. They were painful and wet as he pulled himself away from the window. No one needed to see Theo like this. Thus did he stumble his way towards where he could wash his face. Noticing the white on his shirt, he peeled the layers off and tossed them aside for the time being.
And Theo would try to get the taste - or lack there of - out of his mouth and soothe the ache.
Re: soulmate au
Date: 2024-03-10 09:55 pm (UTC)It isn't that G'raha doesn't trust that Theo knows what he's doing, or that he can't look after himself, but he's responsible for bringing the warrior here and the last thing he wants is for him to come to any harm - whether that harm be physical or emotional.
(It's not that anybody knows how Theo was affected by the visit to the Viis, just that they can tell something is wrong and they're not sure what that something might be - or if it isn't anything at all and he really is just tired)
G'raha second guesses himself half a dozen times before deciding there really isn't any harm in checking, so he makes his way to the Pendants and the room that has been given to Theo. Before he can talk himself out of it (again) he knocks.
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Date: 2024-03-10 10:43 pm (UTC)"One moment," he breathed, pushing himself away from the little sink-like space in the room. The red mage picked up the discarded shirt and set it aside and snatched up a different one before making his way towards the door.
Ears perked up and forward upon seeing the Crystal Exarch before him, the only expression of surprise. This was not who he anticipated the moment he opened that door. That shirt was still in one of his hands.
"A surprise indeed," Theo mused, taking a step back to allow the other access.
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Date: 2024-03-10 11:04 pm (UTC)G'raha's eyes sweep over the Viera's exposed chest - checking for obvious wounds, of course, and no other reason - before landing on his face. There's a sheepish smile on his face below the hood.
"I apologise, I'm interrupting." He says, but since Theo is stepping back to allow him entry he steps in anyway - he's determined to properly check up on the man and if he isn't going to be stopped he'll take the opportunity he can get. He glances around the room as if checking for anything amiss before he turns back towards Theo.
"I shan't intrude long, I simply wanted to see how you fared. Alisaie mentioned you didn't quite seem yourself when you all returned from Fanow, is aught amiss?"
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Date: 2024-03-10 11:27 pm (UTC)"Little wonder she did not march up here herself," Theo replied. "Did you convince her to refrain from coming here or did her brother?"
Deflection, somewhat. A shifting of the focus from the reason that others would be worried and concerned to Theo being concerned with them. He walked away from the door, deeper into the room and proceeded to slip on the shirt he had selected, exposing the expanse of his back as he did so. Theo preferred to wear clothing that didn't hinder his movements when outside, but to sleep in? He was someone that liked baggier attire.
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Date: 2024-03-10 11:37 pm (UTC)"I told her I would come in her stead, that's the only thing that stopped her." He admits with a faint huff of laughter, his eyes following Theo as he moved deeper into the room, still studying for any sign that he isn't simply tired from yet another battle "Don't think I didn't notice the way...you..."
The sentence trails off into nothing, G'raha's eyes widening beneath his hood as he stares at an all-too-familiar mark between Theo's shoulderblades. It is, admittedly, a mark that he has previously only ever seen in an awkward, twisted way - the perils of looking at one's own back in the mirror - but still it is one he would recognise anywhere. He had studied it often enough, in the hope of finding its twin.
To find it here, now, when his own had long since disappeared beneath the crystalline sheen that covered so much of his body, he's stunned into silence, unsure what to say, what to do.
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Date: 2024-03-11 12:21 am (UTC)Since that was her way. Theo had long grown accustomed to the twins and their own unique brands of fussing. The Viera turned, gaze fixed on the Exarch now that he had stopped speaking. Don't think I didn't notice... Notice what? Theo was certain he never informed anyone of what the Light was doing to him. No one needed to worry about that, lest they think Theo unable to see this through. Which he would.
His head tilted to the side a bit, an ear dropping with it. "The way I...?"
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Date: 2024-03-11 01:19 am (UTC)The words snap him out of his shock, and even without the tell-tale twitch of his ears, tucked as they are neatly beneath his hood, it's obvious that he starts slightly at the sound of them.
"You avoided the question." He finishes smoothly - he knows he can't hide the way he flinched, but he hopes that by pressing on he can at least make Theo forget about it and not ask too many questions of his own.
"Are you well, my friend? If I report back to Mistress Alisaie that you refused to answer for your current state, she will return here herself."
He's not above using the fear of Alisaie to keep the conversation on the right track, even as his mind races at this new revelation.
Would Theo believe him, if G'raha told him without evidence? Would he be angry to learn the identity that G'raha has hid from him, since he can't very well reveal such information and still keep it hidden, can he?
More importantly, is it fair to tell him when G'raha still has every expectation of sacrificing himself for their cause?
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From:wow i'm sorry time go away from me
From:it happens, no worries!
From:/cracks knuckles well i guess it's time
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From:on vacation so weeee
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From:so i have time for tagging
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From:sorry for delay; work has had me traveling a lot
From:no worries!
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From:now that dawntrail doesn't have me in a vice grip...
From:ahaha. I've barely had a chance to play! Stupid real life!
From:real life is definitely stupid
From:Re: real life is definitely stupid
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From:allagan prince au
Date: 2024-03-12 03:15 am (UTC)They've told him he’s fine — better than fine, even. More than he had been before. Purged of his excess light. Cleansed. And utterly unharmed (at least, physically).
He doesn’t argue. Doesn't mention that, weeks on, his nervous system, forehead to fingertips, still roils in quiet moments, the whole-body churning of a bad hangover. Doesn't ask about the strange green life that sprouts from his skin or whether the color will ever come back to his hair. Doesn’t tell anyone that fine feels far away now.
Because there are so many already lost, and too many more he can yet save. Because a smile better suits a hero. Because, well, there's just not enough time. Too much else to worry over. Like this Allag business, and the mess that’s come along with it.
Truth be told, Viktor doesn’t quite get it. Maybe he would’ve if he’d paid attention, but that debriefing had gone on and on without so much as a snack break. All political theater and over-delicate diplomacy. Not nearly enough actionable planning or meat miq’abobs. And, oh—Shtola had been there, too, and in his estimation, her presence was a free ticket to turn off his own brain. Details, remembering, that's her wheelhouse.
But, Allag. Weird, right? They’re back. Or…revealed? Something like that. Hopefully better behaved than they had been a few eras ago. Ostensibly eager to peacefully rejoin the world stage — after an obligatory diplomatic tour of the Allied Nations, of course.
Of course. And that’s why Viktor is here. Home. Vesper Bay. Standing so near to the former headquarters of the Scions — a proximity that is thankfully only fleetingly painful. Who better to escort the crown prince of Allag across Eorzea than the Warrior of Light, himself?
Having grown tired of waiting for the procession of diplomats and guards to disembark, Viktor steals a glance at himself reflected in a nearby window. He’s just getting over the shock of his still unfamiliar pearly gray hair when his gaze settles on the reflection of the ship and the outline of a familiar form setting foot on land. Viktor thinks passingly that the line of his mouth, perfectly reflected by the glass, is so achingly right that it might make him sick. Entirely undignified, he whips around, heart and head fighting over who it is exactly he expects to see.
His head wins out. A miqo’te, yes, but a whole one. No blue crystal skin, no walking staff, no wise, mysterious smile. Viktor does his best to school his disappointment. His voice cracks all the same when he chirrups, "Well met…er, your highness?"
this got long lol
Date: 2024-03-12 10:42 am (UTC)Waking up from his little jaunt to the first had been... jarring, to say the least. His consciousness had stretched back near a century and he'd lived through it all, only to find that barely a few weeks had passed here in the source. A hundred years of ruling the Crystarium, of guiding its people, of growing close with its people. If it were only that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad - a little stifling, perhaps, to go back to the low pressure life of being Allag's prince, but at least it would prepare him for the day he was expected to take the throne.
But it hadn't been only that.
His heart aches for him, for his 'warrior of darkness', for the saviour of the First that G'raha had grown so close to. The other scions, too, of course he counted them as his friends and he dearly missed all of them, but Viktor...
The final moment haunts him. He'd felt increasingly guilty, concealing his identity from the viera, concealing a lot of things from him really, and he'd hoped to fix that at the last, but he'd moved too slow. He'd almost reached for his hood when the crystal stilled his arm and suddenly the moment had passed, he could only look upon Viktor's stricken face as the rest of his body was overtaken and his mind was hurled back to the source without a chance to say what he really wanted.
He didn't even really have time to process any of it, for no sooner had he returned that he was being dragged into meetings about Allag finally (finally) taking its place on the world stage. There had been too many threats in recent memory, and their agents abroad had brought back reports about the Eorzean alliance and their increasing move towards peace - about the scions, and their tempering influence on proceedings.
(That, he knew, and now he had seen it in action he could only agree)
The world, it had been decided, may be ready for them. It was at least ready to learn that Allag persisted, ready for a diplomatic visitor to get a closer look at the state of the world - and G'raha was to be that visitor.
It had been his idea, his whim, really, to suggest that he ought to have some kind of guard against any threat that might befall him, especially from the threat of Garlemald, and that it would be a perfect show of good faith from the Eorzean Alliance to convince their own champion to be that guard.
He hadn't expected anybody to actually agree, and yet the arrangements had been made. He had the voyage to get used to the idea that he was going to see Viktor again. It wasn't enough. At least his entourage were kind enough not to pry too much at their prince's apparent edginess the whole journey.
When he's actually stepping off the ship, he still isn't ready, but his eyes immediately seek out Viktor nonetheless. There's something about the way his head whips round, something about the tone in his voice, that look in his eyes... is there recognition there? Fear and hope swell in equal measure.
"Call me G'raha, please." He says, in defiance of protocol. At least one dignitary within earshot gives him a scandalised look but he ignores it, he's too eager to hear his name from Viktor's mouth. "You must be the famed warrior of light, we have heard many tales of your triumphs even in Allag."
He has to at least pretend at some semblance of a proper introduction, however much he's desperate to ask if Viktor knows, if he realises, how he feels... okay he's a little terrified to know how he feels, unsure if Viktor will hate him for the subterfuge of it all...
all tag lengths are good tag lengths!
Date: 2024-03-12 05:16 pm (UTC)But he is no stranger to seeing lost faces reflected in strangers or hearing familiar voices long silenced. It never gets easier — he just bulks up to shoulder it better. He reminds himself that he can't muck up such a precarious diplomatic endeavor.
Viktor pulls in a breath, quells the misplaced excitement in the back of his mind, and...there. Somehow taller, somehow sturdier, somehow stronger. He is the Warrior of Light once more.
Recompiled and oblivious to the glowering of onlookers, he finally echoes that name, "G'raha."
Just as with every name on the First, it's as though he tastes the sound. G'raha is soft and warm, honey on fresh bread. Different from Crystal Exarch, a name that, even at that first, tense meeting, had seemed like a strange new candy in his mouth.
"It's nothing. I keep busy." Also familiar: his near total ineptitude as a diplomatic speaker. "Ah! I mean, thank you. A pleasure to meet you. I am eager to learn more about your people, as you learn of ours." Viktor's gaze quickly bobs from head to head in the assembled crowd before settling back on the Allagan prince once more. He is handsome in a way that hurts Viktor's heart, but he doesn't let it show. His head lists to the side, and his smile goes a little silly. "Will I also be guarding your entire entourage?"
truth!
Date: 2024-03-12 05:54 pm (UTC)It's strange, G'raha thinks, to watch Viktor change in front of his very eyes - he doesn't quite understand what he's seeing, what it means, but in mere moments the man standing in front of him is every inch the Warrior of Light, completely composed, and there's so little hint of the expression that crossed his face before that G'raha almost wonders if he imagined it. Wishful thinking, perhaps, that Viktor might recognise him and he wouldn't need to confess?
He wants to ask, but he daren't - not in front of onlookers, at any rate - so instead he just smiles and nods when Viktor echoes his name and tries not to swoon at the sound of it like some over-eager fan.
Even if that's exactly what he is, in some ways, even after so much time spent with him.
He has to lift a hand to stifle his laugh as Viktor stumbles over his response, earning another disapproving look. He knows he's being too casual, too familiar, but he can't stop himself - he already knows it's a fool's errand, trying to stay aloof and in control as the Crystal Exarch didn't exactly last so there's no point trying it as the Prince of Allag either.
"Indeed," he agrees "I hope we can learn much from one another."
At least that's the proper thing to say, but he ruins it by laughing again - this time he doesn't even try to stifle it, chuckling lightly at the comment and shaking his head with a smile.
"Blessedly, no. Many of those who have come with me are engaging in various talks here in Ul'dah, I will have a much smaller group of attendants travelling with us, but rest assured I am the only one whose safety you need concern yourself with."
He'd wanted to travel with Viktor alone, but that had apparently been unthinkable, so he'd wittled the actual group down as much as he could possbly manage.
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Date: 2024-03-12 07:24 pm (UTC)It feels like a lie after losing so much so quickly. But his friends had coached him, advised him against showing weakness or being too honest. An unknown nation at their doorstep, one claiming to be Allag, a civilization known mostly for its violent starring role in Hydaelyn's history. Even Viktor had understood right away that confidence and caution would be key.
Still, this Allagan prince laughs and smiles so easily. Like a friend. Viktor turns away to look at the flat-topped stone buildings surrounding them, trying to escape the growing tightness in his chest. "Er--can you get away? From your handl--your party, I mean. For a walk around Vesper Bay." He sweeps a red-sleeved arm out, gesturing toward the marbled square. "I know this place well. A good start to your tour of Thanalan."
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Date: 2024-03-12 07:57 pm (UTC)"I'm sure I will." G'raha agrees, pleasant and genuine. He has nothing but faith in Viktor's abilities - he's seen them in action. If asked, of course, he can fall back on the Warrior of Light's reputation
The question has him sneaking a glance over to the assembled entourage, realising that they've mostly been drawn into conversations about accommodation and itineraries and transport and therefore are paying less attention to their prince than they probably should be. He glances back at Viktor with a grin.
"If we go now." He says. It isn't that they'd stop him necessarily, but they'd certainly want someone to accompany him, and he'd rather take the opportunity to spend some time alone with Viktor. He isn't sure how often those chances will come along on this trip, so he'll take them where he can.
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Date: 2024-03-12 09:53 pm (UTC)The promise of excitement has its usual invigorating effect. Viktor moves like a spring loosely coiled, his paces half-bounding away from the crowded ferry. One, two, three steps away, he pauses and turns back to make sure his new charge is following. Already, that Warrior of Light persona is giving way, and just Viktor shines through. A wiry man, tall as a palm and dressed, as always, in the vibrant red-and-white colors of a healer, even with that ax strapped to his back.
"The way the sea and the karst meet here..." he inhales, the salt, the sea, the earthy smell of damp rock all rushing to greet him. "It makes Vesper Bay feel always like the start of an adventure."
A scholar might, at this point, have launched into a spiel about the history or architecture of Vesper Bay and Horizon. A better tour guide would've pointed out one of the market stalls or talked up the menu at the Pissed Pieste. Viktor is neither of those things. He fixes his attention on G'raha, and tries not to search his fine features for things he knows aren't there.
"What are you most looking forward to seeing?"
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Date: 2024-03-12 10:05 pm (UTC)G'raha stifles another laugh - this time it's not propiety he cares about but about being too loud and drawing attention - and nods.
"Let's indeed." He agrees, glancing over his shoulder once more to make sure he isn't being watched and then scampering after Viktor - between his quick pace and taller stature, G'raha needs to almost run to keep up, but he's certainly not complaining about it.
He catches up easily enough and grins up at Viktor, already feeling the thrill of being around him, of getting to see the real man behind the legend - he's caught glimpses of it enough back on the First, but that doesn't make him any less addicted to seeing it. He, too, is allowing himself to be a little more himself, instead of the serious Crystal Exarch with the weight of the world upon his shoulders.
"Well, perhaps this is the start of an adventure." He says with a smile, catching himself before he says something obvious about wanting to go on an adventure with him.
Catches himself, too, before he answers Viktor's question with you.
"I've read so many stories, I hardly know where to start," he admits "Where is your favourite place?"
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