crystalliccs:
THE BLADE STILL RESTED WITHIN HIS CALLOUSED HANDS whilst light sweat drops gently dripped down his temples after his ambitious practice for the day. He was truly given to STUBBORNNESS, unable to conserve his strength for needing times – and often o v e r e x t e n d i n g himself, as well. Alas, as so very often ever since he awakened in his younger boy, rising from the ashes, he scarcely was ever alone. Unlike the c o u n t l e s s of moments inside the magnificent constructure of the golden era of ancient technology, when he spent days, sometimes even weeks in absolute silence. Planning, preparing – conjuring, channeling the borrowed AETHER for his desperate attempt to summon the only living being who could save their worlds from the approaching MENACE. Yet the Rising Stones were indeed quite different to the Crystarium – providing much less PRIVACY for him, as well. His limbs still felt far too weak – too fragile – to be of proper use, yet the man had to appreciate the encouragement he received from anyone. Alas, he had to admit, he missed the quiet at times. Having managed to finally escape the other residents of the Rising Stones– a very fitting description, he had to admit – G’raha fully intended to at least make certain he did not neglect his own rest again. Up until now, at least.
REDDISH EARS TWITCHED UPON HEARING Michi’s voice –tones which easily crossed any distance to reach him – making him immediately sheathing his blade. The man’s sanguine hues glanced at her, immediately noticing the apparent NERVOUSNESS in her actions albeit he failed to understand why. Had she ever asked anyone for aid, he pondered? No, truthfully, the man could almost read her like an open book, recognizing the first written pages of it. It had to be of utter importance, he was well aware – yet he could feel her hesitating, questioning her own actions. This was truly so unlike her -someone who never faltered, who so rarely ever expressed her emotions this very way. One reliable fighter, through and through, whose ambitious determination had g u i d e d so many on their path.
So why asking him now…? Perchance… Someone else might be more suited to guide her back on her PATH. Albeit - and perchance merely his own throbbing heart wished for such – the man wanted to learn – wanted to listen to her soul’s content and make her feel s a f e. Safe enough to reveal what she was hiding like he once had.
MAYHAP HE WOULD HAVE ADDRESSED SUCH MATTERS – his nagging assumptions – some years ago out of concern, yet no longer. With the memories of his younger self and his own boastful youth so very present in front of his inner eye - as if one hundred years of him gritting his teeth beneath his cowl, withstanding all of the approaching STORMS had been erased from time itself – the man could hardly pretend to never have kept his own SECRECIES. And, in truth, he had done the very same in the First, ultimately concealing his own past once again - albeit for different, and perchance less honorable reasons.
OH, WHAT BLASPHEMOUS UNDERSTATEMENT it would be for him to say that he was not indeed quite c u r i o u s – having watched so many of her footsteps, of her heroic deeds inside the mirror, feeling naught but the cold surface with his equally numb and crystallized fingertips. Deeds which he had heard – r e a d – about in a future that he still hoped to never come to be and then was b l e s s e d to witness betwixt the DISTORTION of time and space. So many years had passed with his very features not seeing a change - frozen in time yet becoming more mutilated by using his s y m b i o t i c aether connection to the Tower – with her scarcely even showing one motion as well.
HOW ODD THE FLOW OF TIME WAS, he had thought back then; and yet… Despite his sanguine eyes always following her, observing her, the man had never d a r e d to pry on all he could see. Remaining in the shadows, distancing himself even across the rift of their worlds. Not attempting to learn of what he must n o t know; what he did not have to see to fulfill the final PROMISES of these desperate souls who had brought him to his very place.
MOST CERTAINLY SHE HAD HER OWN REASONS for keeping her counsel, as well. So what could he possibly tell her? Not even the brightest stars were ever without their respective shadows, he was sure. Light and Dark had always been parts of one double edged sword. His full lips slightly parted, pausing for a merely a moment to consider his right choosing of words. Had he not yet at least partly laid bare what he t r u l y felt? Oh, he had m e a n t every word he had said in moments he had believed to be his very last once. Words directly coming from his half-withered heart after his long FALL, long before she even learned of the very truth of his identity. He would follow her everywhere if she merely asked; if she truly wished for him to accompany her.
LIPS CURLED INTO THE FAINTEST OF SMILES before he gave a single, light nod. If he hid what was still buried deep within, inside the very corner of his own soul, p r e t e n d i n g to not notice her strange behavior, would she feel more at e a s e?
❝… Yes, of course. You know I do not mind, my friend. Well! I will not deny that I am indeed also very curious. I have yet to receive the opportunity to see such place with my very own eyes and I can hardly imagine a more pleasant companion, after all.❞
They remember that day clearly— The poor refugee pleading her innocence as the sleazy merchant closes in with his goons. All the while no one would step in to defend her, all avoiding her gaze and feigning ignorance to her plight. It was at that moment she realized these people were no different those from the very land they despised.
They were also quick to use people for their own gain, even the Scions were guilty of this. They had been so quick to snatch her up into their ranks as soon as they discovered she had the echo. Eagerly pressuring her and cornering her into a situation she felt she could not back out of. From there she worked tirelessly, jumping from place to place, risking herself for a cause she initially had no part in until that day—When their plan to catch the tainted Amalj'aa had backfired and she was forced to witness the other soldiers turn and then fight for her life. She fought tooth and nail to survive, the scent of burning flesh was still fresh on her mind once she returned to the Waking Sands. Upon her return she remembered the shock on their faces upon realizing what happened, only for it to turn into realization. She had the power to resist a Primal’s influence and slay them. The only one who truly showed concern with Thancred, expressing his deepest regrets for even allowing her to end up in such a terrifying situation. She would always remember it. But there was no ignoring how the rest of the Scions now looked at her.
She would now become a tool for the sake of humanity.
Initially, she didn’t want to be called the Warrior of Light. In her eyes carrying that title would mean giving up her right to be human— To be like everyone else. She will forever be known as the Warrior of Light, the Champion of Eorzea, the Liberator of Nations, the Slayer of Eikons, and now the Savior of Worlds. Never will she simply be known as Michi Ikigai. In the eyes of the people she is a warrior without parallel, with no faults to speak of. When in truth there is simply no one who truly knows the mixed girl.
When she is gone, the world will only remember her as a hero. She will serve as the muse for many tales and ballads. Her tales will inspire young adventurers to rise up in the world’s time of need and become warriors of light themselves. And perhaps, she may even ascend into legend, her tales and heroics becoming so grand that she is seen as a myth rather than a woman.
No one will ever remember who the girl truly was.
And, for a time, she was ok with that. In the beginning she never wanted anyone to know of the real Michi. She would never share stories of her past, always keeping to herself. It was better that way. There was no point in risking getting close to someone only to see them ripped away from you. Yet it never made losing those very people any easier. With each loss a crack would form in her heart. The cracks grew larger and larger until the fateful night with the Sultana. It wasn’t until after she and the young Elezen managed to escape did her heart finally break. When she thought Alphinaud had finally fallen asleep, she had cried for the first time in years. Hours were spent quietly sobbing in the back of the cart unaware of the young boy being awake for it all. For the first time she had shown weakness to the Scions, a side that despite all of her triumphs, she was still only human.
From there it was a gradual change. The allies she once kept at a distance, were slowly worming their way into her heart. The way they viewed her began to change as she showed more and more hints of her true self. They have learned just how stubborn she could truly be and how excited they would get when a new dungeon was discovered. They had learned how she secretly loved to dance and how she could barely carry a tune with her voice. And in turn she learned more about all of them. They grew closer and closer until they were no longer considered as simply allies but close friends and even family.
Yet there was still a part of her that no one, not even her closest of friends knew. While those closest knew who Michi was now, no one knew of the time when she was a girl. It was a part of her history that remained a mystery. But wasn’t for a lack of trust, no by now she trusted each and every one of them. If anything it was a lack of good timing that kept her from bringing it up. With each new problem popping up there was hardly ever a time to bring this up.
So when she’s finally given this chance, this moment of peace and quiet, she has to take it.
So it would have made sense for her to pick someone like Thancred or Alphinaud to tell first. She has been through so much with them both and she was certain they would be able to handle the situation well. Yet she chose to seek out Graha instead. She couldn’t explain why, but she wanted him to know before anyone else. Well—That’s partially true at any rate. She could give an explanation, but her heart couldn’t muster up the courage to say it.
So when he agrees, without even asking for an explanation, she’s visibly relieved. A smile gracing her features, the scales on her cheeks curl to adjust to the muscles moving underneath. Her hands move away from her face and instead fall to her side as she comes closer to the Miqote.
“Thank you,” She begins, her voice is filled with warmth as she looks up at him with gratitude in her eyes. “It won’t be the grandest of adventures.” Her voice turns bashful and almost sheepish, in a way, apologizing for that fact. “But it’s something very important to me,” Finally she holds out a hand for him to take. “So I—Ah—If you don’t have anything you need to do we can go right now. It’s not the easiest place to get to so it will take us some time to get there.” It would be easy enough to get into Ishgard. Coerthas was practically at the Rising Stone’s doorstep and would hardly take them any time at all to reach it. It’s once they leave the holy city and into the blistering cold of the Central Highlands where they will truly feel the weight of the journey.
“Ah—You might want to bring a heavy coat with you.”
