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snow-system-wol · 2 months

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Part II -- stories at the end(?) of the Tale of the Crystal Exarch.

Ao3

S'ria had wanted to say it before, days prior. G'raha, this is killing you. Perhaps it would've been a bit hasty to have said it back then, though.

But now? The Tower was truly killing him now. The only odd sort of relief, awful as it was, was that G'raha could no longer pretend like it wasn't painful – not with S'ria seeing the process of the crystal spreading. The way he gasped and curled in on himself, and the disturbing sounds of cracking that accompanied the changes – it was difficult to witness. S'ria wished he could do anything to help make it hurt less.

Realizing why it's progressing so rapidly does nothing to improve his mood, but it does at least give S'ria a clear goal.

It was so callous, Elidibus burning up what remained of G'raha while desperately trying to kill S'ria – and he likely did not even know (much less care) about the effect of his excessive summonings. S'ria felt a bit sick thinking about just how many times he'd seen one of those damnable summon circles while he fled to Lakeland.

There was a bit of guilt in S'ria's heart over that, too. Nothing major – he wanted to live – but he couldn't help but think about how Elidibus would likely stop calling forth more heroes if he successfully killed S'ria already.

If nothing else, it was a reason to hurry, to go find Elidibus and end this as quickly as possible.

G'raha seemed a bit less than steady on his feet, but S'ria knew it was futile to try to stop him from coming along. Somehow, he was glad for the company, even if it meant watching the Exarch's steps falter in pain when the crystal claimed another ilm of flesh. At least, this way, he knew exactly how bad it was getting.

----------

S'ria dropped down by G'raha so hastily that he could feel his knees protest heavily at the impact, especially with his body still freshly injured from battle. G'raha lifted his head with a drawn expression – yet still smiling.

“I concede, I may have overexerted myself.”

May? May?! S'ria was at a loss for words, too concerned and tired to gripe at his making light of the situation. G'raha, agonizingly slow and with an audible crackling, managed to at least sit up. S'ria wanted to do something – support his body, carefully hold his hand – anything that might help or bring comfort… but he was terrified to touch G'raha at all, afraid of hurting him like this.

G'raha was still smiling at him, looking quite satisfied with himself – he deserved to feel that way, after destroying Elidibus, but it only made S'ria's chest feel tighter. G'raha said then, “we won, my friend”, and the slight wobble in his voice confirmed S'ria's understanding that what was happening to G'raha could not be undone. So when G'raha brought back up that he'd mentioned wanting to ask a favor before, S'ria listened with complete focus.

“So I hope you'll forgive me this moment of selfishness. And… while I wouldn't want you to feel obliged…”

G'raha trailed off, fixing his gaze to the side of S'ria's head. He opened and closed his mouth in hesitation, and S'ria endured the wait – he doubted it was anything actually selfish, knowing G'raha, but the fact that he seemed to think it would be meant letting him get to it himself.

This time, when G'raha opened his mouth again, words came out.

“Promise you'll take me on your next adventure. A journey. Together. That's all I ask.”

S'ria blinked him, both in reaction to how simple of a request it was for G'raha to be so worried about and to try to fight back the tears that threatened to spill.

“You could've asked me earlier!” S'ria's voice cracked in the middle of it, sounding more pitiful and desperate than anything else. That perfectly reflected how he felt though – mourning how G'raha had waited until it was far too late, too late for anything, to even ask for the company and comfort he wanted. They were friends, weren't they? Why didn't he ask?

S'ria remembered then, the spirit vessel he was still absentmindedly holding. He checked it immediately as he recalled the sound of it clattering on hard stone – completely intact, looking undamaged. Right, there was still hope, tenuous as it was. S'ria held it pleadingly towards G'raha.

“Is it still…?”

G'raha smiled at him. “Yes, there remains only one last step.”

It was with a painful amount of finality that S'ria helped G'raha to his feet and followed him to his chosen resting place. G'raha was barely even still breathing, and time was truly up, but there still remained a moment for G'raha to lay a hand over the spirit vessel, cool crystalline fingers barely brushing against S'ria's hand, and the sudden vibrant glow was hopefully a sign that it worked.

Gods, it better have worked. He deserved better than to have died before even letting himself live.

For now, S'ria knelt in front of a lifeless statue, clutching the vessel to his chest.

The others arrived soon after, but they hung back long enough for S'ria to dry his eyes and try to look half respectable.

He at least felt hopeful, forcing himself to believe the best, as they descended the Tower. Still holding the vessel securely against his body, such a terrifyingly small and vulnerable way for a soul to exist, there was only one thought repeatedly running through S'ria's mind. I will keep you safe.

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S'ria finished the rest of the way to the entrance of the Tower at a near sprint, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited to see if the door would accept G'raha's crystallized blood as legitimate enough for entry. His body flooded with relief upon seeing the blue glyphs begin to react, but he did not truly exhale until the doors began to crack open. S'ria was inside the Tower the moment the gap was wide enough for him to slip through.

A part of him had still worried it wouldn't be enough to let him in.

S'ria had so many worries, actually, about whether any of this would work and what would happen when he found G'raha – but, even though he desperately wanted to return immediately, that last trip around the world the Exarch saved was the right thing to do.

And now, with everyone else returned and awake, it was time.

S'ria wished he could've had time to ask G'raha where to find him. He'd asked for any insights with the remaining members of NOAH, but had received relatively few helpful suggestions. Up to the upper spires did not feel right, it felt like one would sleep somewhere buried deep – on nothing but a hunch, S'ria found the familiar Ocular and headed further inward from there, seeking out the heart of the Tower.

It was easier once he was nearby, the vessel in his hand nearly humming at the proximity to its shared blood nearby. If it hadn't been so long, perhaps he could've followed the rest of G'raha's path by scent alone – but anything had long since dissipated.

It took longer than he would've liked, but he did eventually find G'raha. It was a relatively small and unassuming room, aside from the high table in the center, holding a single body.

S'ria immediately ran to him. He looked… well, he was breathing and had a heartbeat, even if both were very slow.

Placing the spirit vessel next to him made it glow blindingly bright for a moment, and then – G'raha's eyebrows were drawn together where his face had previously been slack, hopefully not from an internal struggle with his own soul, but he did not seem to be stirring. Panic gripped S'ria's heart for a moment before he remembered the true reason G'raha still slept – the same reason he had slept these last few years.

S'ria looked down at the…table? Odd dais of sorts? that G'raha laid upon. Much like the rest of the Tower, it was etched with strange branching lines through which a blue light flowed through – like blood through veins, but utterly inscrutable to S'ria.

He could tell that they seemed to be following the shape of a human body to some extent, forming an elaborate halo of circles under G'raha's head and branching out under his body, but anything more than that was…beyond him. Further investigation yielded a series of wires at the edges of the table, ending in ornate metal caps that somehow stayed in place on G'raha's wrists – for what function, he could not say. The table hummed, and S'ria was afraid to pull at anything, lest he somehow kill G'raha.

There, at one end of the table – the glyphs formed the loose shape of a handprint. S'ria picked up the now dull soul vessel and cautiously pressed his palm onto the table. Immediately, the lines on the table went dark in a quick spread from where he'd put his hand down. S'ria barely had time to fear before G'raha started to slowly stir.

He sighed in relief and went about detaching G'raha from the machine – thankfully, the caps at the ends of the wires only seemed to be loosely adhered to his skin, nothing worse than that. No more than slightly irritated skin left behind. S'ria gently inspected the marks, but nothing about them looked concerning.

By this point, G'raha's eyes were starting to blearily crack open and S'ria could've nearly cried.

Once awake, he immediately tried to sit up, to absolutely no success. S'ria put an arm behind his shoulders and helped him upright, fumbling a potion out of his bag. They'd all expected he'd be more than a bit weak after waking, even if the Tower was taking care of him. Even as groggy as G'raha was, when S'ria brought the vial to his lips, he drank with no complaint or concern.

G'raha's eyes finally seemed to focus on S'ria, and he felt a new bolt of fear that he hadn't even considered. What if… the Exarch's memories could simply be lost? S'ria had liked the G'raha Tia he met years ago, but that wasn't the man he'd gotten to know since.

S'ria imagined, if he had forgotten, G'raha's first reaction would likely be confusion as to how and why he was so soon awakened. Instead, he simply smiled at S'ria – despite clear physical discomfort, looking more peaceful than S'ria thought he'd ever seen the Exarch.

“It's… it's you, isn't it?”

G'raha opened his mouth, only managing a hoarse sound, and then simply nodded instead. If G'raha's body wasn't so unhappy and if S'ria had a better sense of both of their boundaries, S'ria would've hugged him. As things were, he instead took simple comfort in continuing to support G'raha's back, the feeling of a living body against his arm a reassuring reminder that everyone made it home.

Everyone made it home.

G'raha had never gotten the chance to see the inside of the Rising Stones before. S'ria was sure he'd love it, though – and, hopefully, would love the idea of staying.

#snow-system #ffxiv-oc #ffxiv-reactions #s'ria 🌸❄️#writings #okay okay okay #id say done with 5.3 #but we haven't actually done the final quests of 5.3 for real yet #in our defense we got overwhelmed and also illogically wanted to finish this first #uh there's. so many stories that take place in the next part of the game so #enjoy

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