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#Vieras live for so long that she will out last G'raha four times over
opteekaal · 8 months
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Ours is a long journey, but mine is even longer... how am I to live without you? Will you wait for me and go together once more?
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iamalivenow · 4 years
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“You're not that old.”
It had been a normal day, research was moving along at its usual snail like pace, and he was hardly aware of where all the others were. It was just him and Lyna and the Warrior in the Occular. It was cool, too, a slight breeze blowing in from the doors one of them had left open. A beautiful day that should be spent outside instead. But here they are, the three of them. Lyna busying herself with consulting the Warrior over training regimens.
G'raha Tia had, upon over hearing them talk about just how many malms the Warrior suggested the guard run every day, had sighed and thought back on his training when he was still a student of Baldesion, and said something along the lines of “back in my day” to which the Warrior had frowned. And then sighed. And then turned to him and had said “You're not that old.”
Both of them, Lyna and G'raha Tia, had gone silent at that before the Exarch smiled and laughed.
“Dear friend, have you forgotten suddenly, the sordid history of my arrival here?” The Warrior, his hero, his inspiration, had then taken an astonishingly long look at him, from his feet to the tips of his ears. His face feels flushed.
“How old were you when we met. The first time.” Her voice does not hold a lot of humor in it, almost as if he's about to be scolded. It's one thing when Alisaie tells him off, though she's in the right of way when she does so, but it's another thing entirely when his warrior does it, at her full height, nearly a full yalm taller then him. And that's with out even counting her ears.
“Twenty four summers.” He does try to stand a little taller, but it feels silly, when even Lyna who is a few ilms shorter seems to get out of her direct line of sight.
“Hm. So generously, you're one hundred and twenty... lets say seven?” Had it been three years for her, only three years?
"He has raised me." Lyna says, as if it's a reminder- had they already spoken about this?
"So then, one hundred and fifty? Rounding up?"
“I suppose, yes, and that's well past the-”
“I'm two hundred and fourteen.”
He's stunned silent. The world, seemingly, is stunned silent along with him, as not even the breeze threatens to disturb her now.
“You don't look it.” Lyna says, an appraising gaze over her now that G'raha only catch a second off before his eyes glue themselves back to hers.
“I'm a Viera.” Her ears twitch, as if to accent the point. “A Viis.” A shrug of the shoulder. “I'm not even that old, comparatively, my village is long lasting. One of my mothers was pushing four hundred summers when I was exiled.”
It's a barrage of information G'raha hardly knows what to do with- Yes sure, conceptually, he knew that Viera lived in their villages and only their villages and that the Warrior of Light was an outlier but- exiled? And all of that feels like something bright and colorful to distract him from the fact that she's apparently Two Hundred And Four. And that that isn't even 'that old'.
“Ah.” He says, because what else can he possibly say.
“So I'm just not going to-” Lyna starts- “Why did you not mention this?” She's looking at G'raha who is still starring at the Warrior-
“I-” He is thankfully interrupted by an out of breath guard reporting a sin eater attack not far from the gates of the Crysterium and Lyna takes off running. The guard, taking a few deep breaths runs after her. Maybe there is something to the training regimen they were discussing earlier after all.
“I mention it only to get you to stop.” She says, and walks a little closer to him, head tilting to the side (her ears are so long-) “I am truly thrilled you do not openly discuss your suicidal ideation anymore- for fear of Alisaie presumably- but I can only take so much of this. It's would almost be insulting, if you didn't know any better.”
“I-” He swallows, looking up at her. “I apologize.”
“My wish wasn't to disparage you. I know Mi'qote do not usually live as long as you do- and in such fighting shape-” He feels like his face might combust in that moment. “But it is exhausting.”
“I apologize greatly.” It comes out more of a question then an affirmation and she laughs, a delightful sound. “I had not thought you were so-”
“Ancient?”
“Well lived.” She laughs again, and settles a hand on his shoulder. She squeezes it gently.
“I should probably go help our noble guard.” Our? That sends a flutter of to his heart- She thinks of this as hers? As home? A place he's made- “Behave.”
That stops his heart for an entirely different reason, and judging by the wink she gives him, it's the intended reaction.
“Stay safe.” His voice is quiet- embarrassingly so.
“Am I not always?” She leaves the ocular and finally, G'raha can breath. For exactly five seconds because she leans her head back in- “I've not told any of the others, by the by, you may want to keep it to yourself.”
Any more revelations and his knees might very well give out.
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