Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dreams find him, vague and featureless, but at least there is no pain. No horrors or dead lifeless eyes to haunt him.

Instead, there is this...warmth. An all-encompassing familiar warmth. Of warm skin against his, of lips pressed and gliding against his own in a most tantalizing caress and all so delightfully soft G'raha scarce remembers how to breathe. He knows these lips, the taste of them, and the realization has him eager for more. 

Chasing the feel of that gentle, warm plushness G'raha cannot find it within himself to protest as they move away to mouth a path down the span of his neck, pausing to trace the pattern of one of his Archon tattoos, and with such loving attention he cannot help but surrender to the sensation with all that he is. He shudders, presses up into that eager warmth. A soft moan escapes him, not aware he has his eyes closed. All he knows is the sensation of having the one he holds most dear so close, pressing his back down into something soft. A mattress?

Not given time to dwell on it fingers rake through his hair, blunt nails a soothing yet stirring scratch against his scalp in the space just between his ears. G'raha purrs, a low rumble in his throat as he tilts his head back in response, offering his neck fully to his love to do with as he wishes, his ears pressed back into his pillow in submission.

Sato...I'm yours.

A burst of laughter, rich and full of life fills his ears. Relishing it he hums in contentment as he feels Y'sato's fingers splay out on his chest over his heart to feel his heartbeat. As if to fulfill his wordless request there is a scrape of teeth against his skin followed by the wetness of a slightly rough tongue.  G'raha leans eagerly into it, wanting so badly for Y'sato to continue, but the scene shifts. 

Now he is on top of him, fine yet slightly coarse sand under the palm of his left hand, his head bowed against his love's shoulder, but more than that it is the sensation he feels in his right hand that truly grabs his attention. There's the silk of him, velvety yet firm, clear as day beneath his fingertips, eager for his touch and he hears it so clearly, the adoration in Y'sato's voice as he moans next to his ear. A beautiful sound he would give anything to hear again. Such love sparks to life in his chest from hearing it alone, stoked even further when he hears it in the whispered utterances of his name, everything bordering on a broken plea.

'"Raha, stay...Please, stay." 

Those words, the deep yearning behind them. He feels it in his heart. Cold and sharp, twisting like a knife. Unforgiving. A deep regret he cannot shake. Unable to do aught else he pulls Y'sato into his arms, fingers splayed between his shoulder blades as he presses his face into the crook of his neck. Warm, Y'sato, he is so warm.

Alive.

"I will, my love. This time, I will make it right. I won't lock myself in the Tower."

His tail trembling as it curls closer he doesn't let go. He hates this, this brokenness in Y'sato's voice, the hurt, curses his inability to do anything to comfort him.

His inability to...save him.

No, he dares not think the thought. This time it will be different. He is here with him now is he not? Safe and sound safely nestled in his arms, the moon and stars above their only witnesses. There is no Calamity. No death or decay or broken promises. Just them. 

I left you behind once, and I will not do so again. G'raha clings to Y'sato tighter, feels the play of muscle under his fingertips as his friend does the same. A desperate, trembling embrace. 

Ears still fanned back G'raha buries his nose into Y'sato's hair, kisses the silken fur behind one of his pinned-back ears. I gave you a promise and I intend to uphold it. I will journey at your side, behold the secret you wanted to show me in the Tangle,  He swallows thickly, the intensity of his vibrant red gaze hidden behind closed eyelids as he pinches his eyes tight. 

I swear it. 

-.-

His eyes open to darkness. Blinking he struggles to get his bearings until he recalls where he is.

..Oh...that is right...Toshi...he...

Overtaken by the urge to yawn G'raha groggily shifts over to his back, letting out a deep sigh. Although he was finally able to sleep he still feels just as exhausted, a weight in his chest he is unable to shake but for a comfort, he cannot remember having had any...upsetting dreams. In truth, it is quite the contrary. While he can't remember much there is this sensation of warmth, of silken fur under his fingertips and a voice in his ear that all feels so strangely familiar, and yet he struggles to place them. Still, it is clear to him his slumber has been a relatively peaceful one and blessedly so, and for that he knows he owes his caretaker. 

I...I should thank him...For the assistance. I don't think I would have been able to get much rest otherwise.

His senses still weighted by grogginess he rubs his fingers at his tired eyes. While he has gotten some much-needed sleep, his eyes still feel just as sore...puffy and he doubts the sensation will pass anytime soon. As much as he has been crying he is surprised they haven't dried out completely. Drawing a breath he slowly pushes himself upright but there he stops. It is...difficult, a part of him screaming to just lay back down and hope for blissful oblivion to claim him once more, but another part feels compelled, compelled to seek out the truth behind the words both the Chief and Toshi told him.

'There is a way to undo all of this. To turn back the hands of time...To alter fate...'

Feeling like his muscles are made of lead he slings his legs over the edge of the bed, then blindly fumbles in the dark for the light switch. He flinches when the sudden bright artificial light assaults his eyes, long having grown adjusted to the pitch-black darkness of his room. Squinting he hides underneath his hood until his eyes adjust somewhat, but the light helps. Helps him feel a bit more stable, a bit more at ease.

Finally feeling comfortable enough to look around the room, his eyes are drawn towards something lying on the nightstand. Something that he had almost forgotten, something timeworn but precious all the same...Y'sato's journal.

And it is a reminder...

Immediately G'raha averts his gaze. His dream, everything that has come to pass, resurfaces and with startling, crystal-clear clarity. The comfortable yet familiar warmth, the silken fur under his fingertips, the voice singing his praises in his ear was all Y'sato and with it, he realizes-

I-I dreamt of him! 

He squeezes his eyes shut tight. This...doesn't really help making him feel much better. In fact, it makes him feel worse, knowing his dream was birthed in part from the last night he spent with him down by the lake, and now...

Now it only serves to drag him down further, reminding him of the futility of being unable to do anything for his fallen friend.

Unable to quench it, to do anything to still the rushing tide he bows his head, curls in on himself. Once more the agonizing pain rips through him, the ever-persistent ache flooding through his entire being from where his beloved friend should be. The horrible chasm in his chest widens and he pinches his eyes shut tighter in response, bringing a hand to his heart. He clutches at the fabric right above the hollow feeling, his hand trembling. Y'sato's journal, should he-

No...not yet...It is still too fresh...I...I cannot-

It takes all of his willpower not to crumble to pieces right then and there, his breaths coming out in short and ragged gasps.

'All is yet not lost. All you need is to believe.'

G'raha forces himself to stand, even as he trembles, his hand still clutching so tightly around the fabric he fears it might tear, his head ducked under the hood as he grits his teeth. He holds on to them, clings to Toshi's words so desperately as he takes a staggering step forward, almost stumbling under the crushing weight in his chest, but he catches himself. He has to do this. To tear himself free from the thorny, shadowy vines that have crept up all around him, ensnaring his entire being.

One step, then followed by another. For each step, he feels the weight lessen by a tiny margin. Bit by bit, piece by piece, until he reaches the door. Leaning heavily towards it, still clutching at his chest he grabs the handle. So close and yet so far...He can feel it. The void closing in on him again...Dull, lifeless eyes staring at nothing bubbles back up to the forefront of his mind's eye and...

'He can yet be saved.'

Feeling a burst of newfound resolve G'raha's eyes snaps open. He nearly wrings the door handle off the door as it flies open, rattling on its hinges. He stumbles forward landing roughly on his hands and knees.

Pick yourself up. Keep walking. It's...it's what he would have done...Believe in him...believe in yourself, G'raha Tia!

With a ragged breath, he pushes himself off the floor. His palms sting after hitting the stone floor so roughly but it is nothing compared to the hollowness, the gaping void he still feels widening in his chest, but he bites his teeth together and keeps walking, a fierce look of determination burning within the vivid crimson of his eyes still shadowed by his hood.

I am an Archon! A Student of Baldesion! And as a student, it is my duty to not balk at the truth. No matter how bleak...or hopeless. I will not. I cannot!

Tears stream down his cheeks but G'raha keeps walking, keeps forging on, his eyes smoldering like hot coals despite the tears. He has to keep moving, find the Chief or Toshi before this newfound fire burning within him is extinguished by the chasm still threatening to swallow him whole.

He passes a handful of people milling about in the halls but he pays them no heed, even when he can feel their perplexed gazes follow him. Nothing else matters but the truth. If Y'sato can still be saved, he wants to hear it. All of it.

He rounds a corner near bumping into some poor hyuran woman who gasps loudly upon seeing his hooded determined self appear out of nowhere but G'raha doesn't stop. Cannot stop. His ears obscured under the hood he pans them around quickly listening out for the familiar voices of either the Chief or Toshi. The fire burning within him starts to wane he can tell, fighting a losing battle against his grief following in his wake, slithering like shadowy tendrils right at his heels.

"How is he holding up? I know we should allow him all the time he needs to come to terms with his situation and...I know I put him in a rough spot, but I would like to start discussing our work with him in earnest. The sooner the better."

"Last I checked in on him he was still asleep so I let him be. Gods knows he needs his rest.  You should have seen him last night...I still don't agree with your methods...It utterly broke him."

There!

There is no questioning those voices. One deep and gruff the other with a warm slight timbre to it. G'raha doesn't hesitate and with a renewed spark lightening up his eyes, he finds himself sprinting down the hall for the room he can so clearly still hear them talking in. A room far to the left of the room where he had initially first met their Chief.

The shadows are close, hounding him. They are coiling around his heart. An icy feeling, the empty chasm in his chest still not stopping its relentless widening but G'raha's fierce determination is stronger. With a final jolt of adrenaline he bolts into the room, startling both the Chief and Toshi.

"G'raha!"

Panting he stumbles on his feet but before he can collapse completely someone grabs him by his shoulders the moment his knees hit the floor. He doesn't need to look up to realize it is Toshi.

"What't-whats the matter? Did you have a nightmare? Perhaps I can-"

G'raha doesn't allow him to finish. He clutches onto him with a desperate grip. "I would hear it all. Sato...How he can yet be saved." He pauses, struggling to catch his breath. He raises his head to look at Toshi, his hood partly obscuring his eyes. "Please...tell me."

"Bu-but you have hardly eaten. At least-"

"Please!" G'raha begs, doing nothing to hide his desperation, his face tear-streaked. "I need to know! Please I-"

"And as your caretaker, I insist you have something to eat first."

The sudden stern authority in his voice gives G'raha pause. Breath catching in his throat he lowers his head, gritting his teeth. In his wild, frenzied desperate hunt for the truth, he failed to consider the man would make sure to see to his other more important needs first. Toshi is his caretaker first and foremost after all. A healer. This is ingrained in his very nature.

Deflated only two words come to mind. "My...my apologies."

In this moment G'raha finds himself immensely grateful his hood is still up, shadowing his face. What a sore sight he must have made otherwise. His eyes all red and puffy, dark circles clinging under them, his cheeks all tear-streaked, ears drooping...

Still sitting on his knees, and with nothing else going for him G'raha starts to succumb to the wide chasm in his chest, to the encroaching shadows that hounded his steps, but a comforting squeeze on his shoulders grabs his attention.

"No apology is needed. You have the right to know and we will be sure to tell you everything in due course." Toshi looks to their Chief as if for confirmation. G'raha however still keeps his gaze downcast, not looking at any of them. He fails to see Biggs nod his approval.

"But first let's get some food in you," Toshi continues, "Can you stand?"

To this all G'raha can offer is a weak nod, and feeling Toshi's hands leave his shoulders he finally looks up at the man. Although still stern-faced faced he is smiling. An amicable smile, extending a hand and G'raha grabs it, allowing himself to be pulled back onto his feet. Toshi's hand. It is so warm, and it helps. Helps making him feel a bit more at ease.

To be truthful with himself he still doesn't feel hungry. Food is the furthest thing on his mind but on this matter, he now knows Toshi can no longer be swayed.

His eyes still shadowed by his hood he allows himself to be guided over to a nearby table, looking as derelict and worn like the rest of their furniture. Their Chief assures him he will be true to his word and share everything once he has eaten. Taking a seat G'raha is still eager to get answers, to understand what both he and Toshi had meant exactly with their words about how all of this can still be undone. About turning back the hands of time, how to alter fate itself.

'You can yet save him'

He clings to those words as he waits, a quiet determination burning in vibrant red irises. He is a scholar, a historian and for now, he knows it best to bide his time as he has been conditioned. Everything will be revealed this time. Of this, he has no doubt.

His eyes narrows, fingers tightening around the worn hem of his cloak.

I will make sure of it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The food offered to him wasn't much different from the bland fare he has been served so far during his stay at their keep, but G'raha ate it all the same, not really having a say in the matter. Once finished he was asked to join both Toshi and Biggs back in the board room. A reluctance claws at his chest at the mere thought of stepping his foot in there again. The last time he had been in there after all he paid witness to things he can never unsee...The phasmascapes...Sato...he-

Needless to say, those cursed frames are the first thing he looks for when he enters the room, his eyes still shrouded by the shadows of his hood, but he glimpses no trace of them. Of course, they have been hidden away. To which location and by whom G'raha doesn't know and to be truthful with himself he would be more than happy to never lay his eyes on them ever again.

The room itself doesn't look much different from the last time he visited it. The blackboard still stands off to the far corner, mathematical equations and the same drawing depicting the Crystal Tower still scrawled on it in stark white chalk. Beside it the still fully functional Allagan node still hovers in place, its low droning hum strangely comforting to G'raha's ears. The harsh artificial light from the strung-up lamps still illuminates the room with their cold glare. Something that makes G'raha feel even more grateful for opting to keep his hood up, its shadow offering much reprieve to his still sore eyes. The only thing different is the amount of salvaged scraps in one of the storage boxes, looking like more has been dumped in, and quite haphazardly at that.

"Please, have a seat."

Wordlessly G'raha does as he is told. He walks over to the lone chair he found himself sitting in two days prior during their first meeting and once more their seating arrangements reflect it, with the Chief sitting opposite of him with Toshi essentially being his right hand. For a blessing, G'raha notes K'delika is nowhere to be seen, Toshi having honored his wish.

G'raha knows with his hood up under this amount of harsh white light he probably looks like some sort of shady dealer the way his face is still mostly obscured by deep shadows but he can't bring himself to fully reveal his face. Not yet. He doesn't want them to see, doesn't want anyone to see how heartbroken he still is, how deeply seeing the image of his friend laying so still and lifeless before him still affects him.

He raises a hand to his chest. The chasm, the hollow feeling, it is still there. Beckoning, churning. It is ever there simmering under the surface, made even worse by his current surroundings but as long as he remains sitting there under the light with Toshi in the room with him he can tolerate it. The quiet determination from earlier still burns in his eyes, resolute. He won't leave this room until he has heard everything, and he means everything.

But first, there is something he needs to know.

"Pray tell...those phasmascapes...How many of your number exactly has...beheld them?"

Try as he might G'raha can't hide the contempt from bleeding into his voice as he utters the name of those cursed frames. That is all they are to him now, for showing him such a cruel, cold thing. The thought of anyone using such technology to document...such a scene...makes his skin crawl.

Biggs is the one to answer, all business as usual. "Only a chosen few. To my knowledge only myself, Toshi, and Delika have beheld them. At least in our order. For the greater good, we decided to keep them confidential due to well, their subject matter as you well know."

One of G'raha's ears twitches and a scowl forms on his face, marring his features. Not that anyone can see his expression but they don't need to. The aura he exudes is enough to chill the room. For a moment G'raha wants nothing but to destroy them himself. The thought of the only image of Y'sato existing in this future being of him dead...like that...sickens him. Already he feels it. A low churning in his stomach. 

He still resents the Chief, for even having considered showing him those images. Even now he struggles to dispel the image from his mind. Yet there is another thing he is burning to know.

"Was...was he ever buried?"

While he can't see their Chief's face from under his cowl he can hear the creak of the chair as the man leans forward. "I'm afraid not. As you saw for yourself the deaths were far too numerous. Too many corpses. Documenting the event by taking those phasmascapes was all they could do..."

G'raha looks down into his lap, the shadows deepening under his hood. So he can't even visit his grave to pay his respects. It would be a small comfort but still. His ears droop from the thought, heart sinking. He realizes this means...Y'sato was just left out to rot like everyone else...could there still-

Overcome with nausea he quickly squeezes his eyes shut from the thought, his tail lashing. No, he won't go there. He refuses. To see him dead was already heartbreaking enough. He knows what happens to the dead if left out for too long and there have been two centuries and-

"We have however erected a small memorial of sorts over at a crystallized tree our records say was once known as Rathefrost. It isn't much but it is something. If you wish you can pay it a visit later. I believe it will do you some good." Biggs continues and G'raha lets out a small gasp, his eyes snapping open realizing he has been holding his breath to fight the bile creeping up his throat. However, the mention of a memorial piques his interest. 

"A memorial?" 

"Indeed. It felt only right to honor the man who still serves as our guiding light. Everyone here, in this keep, has lost something dear to them but the hope for a better tomorrow, a brighter future keeps us going."

At this, G'raha raises his head and dares peek at the Chief from under the shadows of his hood. The Chief has his full attention now and he feels compelled to voice his thoughts, his voice bordering on a whisper, afraid his ears are playing tricks on him. 

"But how? You told me that everyone here is a lost cause. That this world is beyond saving."

G'raha doesn't fail to notice the smile lifting the corners of the man's lips. "While the man himself is long dead his deeds live on, immortalized in stories and song. They light our torch in the darkness, emboldening us. Take a walk around our keep and you will be sure to hear them. To see the hope they instill with your own eyes."

To this G'raha can only blink. The chief's words sparks something to life within him. It is clear to him now these people have yet to lose hope despite their circumstances, despite a chosen few having looked at those dreaded phasmascapes and struggling to get up in the morning they still manage to put one foot in front of the other.

He lowers his gaze, tries to get a feeling of the tiny spark trying to grab a hold inside him. It is fleeting, barely tangible, and yet...it is there.

'You can yet save him'

Emboldened G'raha's gaze shoots up and he sits straighter in his chair. It is time.

"You said there is still a way to undo all of this. To alter fate itself and that I somehow are meant to play a part in all of this...That I can yet save him so pray tell me. Tell me everything. There has been enough secrecy."

"Of course." Biggs starts. "I hope you excuse us. We just didn't want you to feel too overwhelmed during our first meeting. Besides while you still might not agree, showing you those phasmascapes was an essential step in making you fully understand the full scope of Black Rose and the dire straits we still find ourselves in. I now however believe you are ready to hear everything about our mission and your role in all of this."

G'raha's ear twitches again upon hearing the man mention the phasmascapes but he holds his tongue and perks his ears, his hood shifting slightly.

Much akin to their first meeting, he listens carefully as Biggs tells him in much the same deliberate and patient manner as before with the occasional input from Toshi about the true purpose and goal of their work. Of how their illustrious founder Cid Garlond and his fellows dedicated their lives to pursuing all manner of solutions, hoping to stay the unending tides of war. One such solution was rooted in a theory that united several fundamental principles discovered over the course of the Warrior of Light's many adventures, one of how one could leap through time and space itself through the rift all thanks to said Warrior's exploits in defeating both Alexander and Omega. Perfecting that idea took their entire lifetimes however and it was left up to the future generations to follow their example, their work, to decide if they could ever bring the theory to fruition.

But hope was feeble, fleeting, beset on all fronts by misery, thievery, and murder. They speak of people falling to despair but while those succumbed, others raised their voices and joined the cause. All in a bid to see the Eight Umbral Calamity averted, to never come to pass. Those very people's descendants are the ones G'raha is talking to now. They confirm the Crystal Tower already has the necessary power to do the translocation as vast a reservoir of aether it is. Some of its functions just needs to be augmented and it is here G'raha's expertise in everything Allagan will come in. 

Furthermore, he is told of their scholars having largely established the phenomena underpinning the rejoining hence identifying the amassing of Light on the shard known as the First as the cause of the Eight Umbral Calamity which consigned with them finally figuring out how to wake him, the Tower's caretaker. Biggs says it is imperative that G'raha alone must travel back in time with the Crystal Tower to the First sometime before the Calamity struck, with the next step being the most crucial of all. He needs to find a way to summon The Warrior of Light there before Black Rose is unleashed...before he meets his untimely end, before the rejoining can even begin, their scholars positing to even have a chance to stop the Light from amassing on the First, someone of the Warrior's caliber will be needed. Someone with the blessing of light.

But the road ahead is a long one still. They need to calculate exactly how far back in time he will have to go and also G'raha needs to know exactly when to summon Y'sato to the First. They will also need to calculate carefully how to time the leap, aiming to give G'raha a couple of decades on the First at least to prepare, since he needs time to figure out how to fulfill his mission. They only got this one chance and for this, they need to find more reports. Anything to help pin down the exact time he will need in order to summon the Warrior of Light to the First.

"This is the only way," Toshi says, clearly having noticed how G'raha sits motionless in his chair, his mouth hanging open from sheer disbelief. "This is the only way we may yet save him, save everyone."

"We know we ask a lot of you," Biggs interjects before G'raha can say anything, even think. "No, we ask you to shoulder the heaviest burden of all, but you are the only one who can carry all of our hopes and dreams. The only one who can deliver our message."

Ho-hold on...

G'raha sinks back in his chair, the weight of everything they have just told him slowly descending on his shoulders, pressing him down into his seat. Rejoinings...Shards...Time travel...The rift. He isn't unfamiliar with these terms as a scholar and yet...Everything he has just heard. This entire operation borders on the miraculous. He...he can scarcely even start to begin to fathom what they are suggesting...What he has to do. What he is expected to do...

He feels their eyes on him, knows they are talking to him but G'raha is too caught up in his whirling thoughts to pay them any heed. To undo the Calamity. To travel back in time and space. To a different shard, a different world entirely through the rift then to somehow find a way to summon Y'sato to that world, and he will be entirely on his own...What if...

What if something goes wrong with the time travel? If what he recalls from what he learned about time theory and its relevancy in how it flows through space and how everyone's existence is fundamentally bound to it is correct this-

It finally dawns on him, the most chilling fact of all.  In order to undo the future he currently finds himself in they would also undo themselves, and in extension...he himself would-

Terror shining in his eyes from the horrible realization he looks to Biggs and then Toshi. They yet can't see his eyes due to his hood but his countenance doesn't betray him. A cold sweat grips him, goosebumps crawling over his skin. Despite the deep chill running down his spine he manages to find his voice, the way it shakes at the edges bespeaking his horror.

"You...If-if I succeed you will all be undone. This future world...Even my current self. I-" He swallows thickly. He is trembling now. Bereft of anything else to cling to he grabs onto his cloak in a bid to try stilling his shaking hands. "I...Are you quite certain? Is this...Is this truly your wish?"

Biggs is the one to speak, his voice soft. "Like I told you before this world and us with it are already doomed. All of us here have long accepted it. It's only a matter of time."

G'raha's head still lowered he doesn't notice Toshi rising from his seat, doesn't notice him walking over to him, doesn't notice his presence until he feels a familiar hand land on his shoulder.

"You don't need to decide right away. I...I know it is a lot for us to ask. This burden. We don't expect you to take it up readily." There is a comforting squeeze. "Also know that we can't force you. This is your choice and yours alone to make, but please, do give it your due consideration."

"When you feel ready to give us your answer whatever it may be we will be waiting here, at the keep, but please do not tarry overlong. As I said. It's only a matter of time." With that Biggs rises to his feet and shortly after G'raha is aware of Toshi leaving his side after a final comforting squeeze on his shoulder. And that's that. Left alone with the whirling maelstrom of thoughts still whirring relentlessly inside his head, he is left to his own devices. He can scarcely believe everything he has just been told.

This is the only way he can be saved. To save everyone and yet...It entails so much sacrifice. So much uncertainty...I don't...I don't know if I can...

He squeezes his eyes shut under the weight of it all. He doesn't need this. Not right now, even when he did want to seek out the truth, but his heart. It can't handle it. Again he feels it. The hollow chasm expanding in his chest and furthermore, the very shadows of the room are stifling, suffocating, encroaching on his very being.

He can almost hear them...whispering. He quickly shakes his head in a desperate bid to dispel them. He knows it is all born from his imagination and yet...

Unable to handle the pressure he shakily rises to his feet and nearly sprints out of the room. He can't handle it anymore. This room has granted him naught but misery and heartache.

Heedless of where he is going he almost bumps into some unfortunate soul in his blind rush but he only hesitates for a few heartbeats before he is off again. This whole keep is starting to feel stifling, shadows hounding him around every corner so he runs towards the only exit he knows of and...

He finds himself awash in brilliant daylight.

Taken aback by the blinding radiance he skids to a sudden halt. For a blessing, he can finally breathe. His cowl is still shadowing his eyes but still it takes him a moment to adjust to the sudden bright light as he seizes the moment to catch his breath. It is then his ears first catches it.

Obscured under the hood as they are his keen hearing still doesn't fail to hear people whisper about him. He is unable to tell exactly what they are whispering about but it bothers him all the same, an incessant prickling in his skin. Straightening he notices the culprits, two fellow Ironworks workers standing off to the side, their eyes on him. A young hyuran woman and an older Elezen man of a stocky build.

There is judgment in their demeanor but also...reverence. He is the strange man with the strange eyes from the past who is the only one currently alive who has seen the Warrior of Light himself, alive, in the flesh. Even knew him. He is the one who is expected to carry forth with all of their hopes, their dreams, to bring salvation to their dying star. Under such scrutiny, G'raha realizes he hasn't exactly made the best first impression of himself. Almost everyone if not all has observed him being nothing but a despondent and heartbroken mess since he was first let out of his room.

For a very good reason...And from a doing not entirely my own.

He presses his lips together at the memory and pulls the hood even further down over his eyes. It is all still too fresh. He needs time to think. To decompress...He-

He needs to leave the keep. To get away from prying eyes. Away from the judging whispers, their misplaced reverence.

I don't deserve it...I don't deserve any of it!

How can he carry forth their dreams and hopes, being their beacon when he still feels so...broken?

Aimlessly his feet carry him away from the keep, the former House of Splendours, not paying attention to his surroundings until he reaches one of the gates, and there he stops. This gate...is not the one he sprinted so recklessly through in the dark leading to the Crystal Tower. No, this gate. He knows where it leads.

The memory of an imposing Castrum of Garlean make floods to the forefront of his mind. Of a swampy tangle filled with tentacled monstrosities, and past that tangle...Rathefrost.

He recalls what Biggs told him, about them having erected a memorial of sorts at its roots in the name of the Warrior of Light.

For a moment he lingers, feeling on it. His chest still feels so heavy. A hollow... One G'raha fears will never be filled. To be made whole again. A part of him still feels fit to crumble into pieces any second, to let go, to lay down and curl into himself on this very spot. To allow himself to be swallowed up by the dark void still eating him up from the inside. It would be so easy. To give in...The path he must walk. The only path. It is so steep, and he will have to walk it alone...He don't...He still doesn't-

Sato I...I need you. 

His earnest plea reaches deaf ears. It is the harsh, undeniable truth. This time he isn't there to guide him. To take him on an adventure, to protect him, or to offer him any guidance or soothing reassurances. No, in this he is all alone, weighted by a decision he is not sure if he will ever be ready to make.

It announces itself before he can do anything to stop it and in response, G'raha raises his hand to his heart. He is tired of this crushing weight in his chest, the ever-persistent ache, the hurt. He tries to reach out for the fleeting spark he could almost grasp earlier but it's gone. His lower lip quivering he looks up to the sky, beholding a familiar azure hue, free of clouds. It looks just like the day when he spent one long lovely afternoon with Y'sato at his side down by the lake both dressed in nothing but their swimming trunks...

The irony of being able to behold this beautiful, yet strangely nostalgic sight isn't lost on him. That despite how broken he feels inside, despite the state of the world he currently finds himself in, the sun can still shine so brilliantly, mocking in all its blazing glory. Its rays envelop him like a warm blanket and yet the warmth offers no comfort.

Just...keep walking. It's...it's what he would have done.

Once more shadowing his face under his hood he takes a step forward through the gate. It is difficult, everything within him screaming to just let go, but he takes another step soon followed by another. Right now all that is spurring him on is his thoughts of Y'sato. Of visiting his memorial at Rathefrost, to pay his respects.

He can do that much at least.