synthneon | · CALL ME OUT (WINTER/HOLIDAYS) ·

( generally 5.0-5.3 canon point!
please list what canon point you want in the header so we can mark spoilers! )

( Lunafreya wasn't disillusioned, nor did she have qualms about the inevitability of her fate as her devotion to the Astrals and their will was just as steadfast as her desire to see Noctis fulfill his destiny. She only hoped that, for a bit longer, she could walk beside Noctis — to share in his burdens and support him. Unfortunately, her flesh had begun to fail her, and Ravus declined her pleading to deliver the Ring of the Lucii to Noctis on her behalf, insisting that she possesses the willpower to find the strength to carry on as it was her duty to provide the ring and instill inspiration into the rightful king.

Her wishes for more time with Noctis would go unfulfilled as the empire makes its move, and she must make hers. After giving her speech to the masses, she explains that the darkness encroaches upon the world and must perform a right of summoning. Standing at the Altar of the Tidemother, Lunafreya pleads with Leviathan, though her words do not reach the Astral. Again, she pleads with the sea goddess, trying to convince her to at least test Noctis so he can prove his worth.

Amid the chaos, she receives a mortal wound, and with what strength remains in her failing body, Lunafreya shields the unconscious body of her beloved from the ensuing tidal wave.

Even in death, an Oracle does not rest, and only when darkness is dispelled will her calling truly be fulfilled. Lunafreya speaks with Noctis one last time through the dream world, lamenting that she wishes to join him once more, but this moment will have to be enough.

When the world falls down around you, and hope is lost,
when you find yourself alone, amid a lightless place, look to the distance.
Know that I am there and that I watch over you always.

In the dream world, it is here where Lunafreya returns the Ring of the Lucii to her dear Noctis before fading into the abyss, her calling fulfilled —

or so she thought.

She knows not how she came to this world, but her memories of the events beforehand are as vivid as the aching wound in her side. Each agonizing step forward is a struggle as she leans upon the Trident of the Oracle — which should have stayed with Noctis in their world as it is one thirteen royal arms. The body that was once failing, now wounded and weak clad in a bloodied and tattered dress, feels as though it cannot take another step, and just as she is certain it will give out beneath her, she continues forward — the crystalline tower that was once in the distance now before her, leaving the Oracle humbled by its beauty. )

Edited 2022-01-03 19:40 (UTC)

( The ever ongoing stasis of Light bleeds and primates into the First. It has been his home for a few decades now; quite missing the mark by some time of when his arrival should have been. It has worked for his benefit as a seat of power has formed that will, one day, give a base for the Warrior of Light of the Source to work with. They will save the First, and by those accounts, save the Source. It will save countless lives... all he must do is continue to move forward.

His ruby eyes tilt upwards at the reconstruction of the main gate to the Crystarium. Another attack is not to be held in surprise or truly in anything other than it is. His hood settles comfortably around his neck allowing his ears and neck to be seen by all. It is the early days yet, and not much has need of him to be so covered in crystal like the Warrior of Light will one day see. For now, his forearm is all that bears the marks of being one with the Crystal Tower.

The ears atop his head twitch at the sound of footsteps that he does not recognize. He turns, seeing the a woman with fair blonde hair and a white tattered dress. It is clear she has been in an attack. Without so much of a word, he dashes towards her. The guards call out to him but, well, the Crystal Exarch can rather take care of his own. The hand of flesh and the one of crystal reach up to aid her in standing as he stops in front of her. ]

Pray tell, are you alright? What was it that attacked you?

Edited 2022-01-06 22:05 (UTC)

( The sound of shouting and rushed footsteps catch Lunafreya's attention, pulling her gaze away from the tower towards the robed man fastly approaching. Offering him a tired yet bright smile, she forces herself to stand straighter while using her trident for support — it seems that even in an alien world, she still holds on to the presentation of needing to look strong and unwavering to all around. )

Nothing of this world, I can assure you.

( Her pale gaze settles on him, noticing the striking red of his eyes and hair — are those cat ears? A brief bit of amusement crosses her features before they smooth out as her eyes shift from him towards the nearly blinding sky as Light bleeds through the clouds in beautiful rays of light. It seems that this world's fate is the inverse of her own, to be taken over by Light, whereas Eos's fate is a threat to be consumed by Darkness. )

( A frown can be seen on his face at her words. Perhaps she expected to see shock, surprise, or mayhap even confusion. None are evident on his face. Instead, he moves to her side and offers her the aid of his hand still made of flesh. It would be paramount to get her to the Crystarium and seen by healers. His mending capabilities are of to a certain degree, but, beyond what she must need. )

Come, let us get you somewhere safe and tended to. No doubt we have mutual questions that should be spoken. How far can you walk, my lady?

[ The matter of returning the Scions home to the Source is indeed a pressing conundrum and, naturally, the Warrior of Darkness has plenty that she could be doing even here around Norvrandt, but Sarangerel has faith that the combined brilliant minds of G'raha, Urianger, and Y'shtola will figure something out. She has to. She has to believe that. With Krile, Matoya, and everyone else in Eorzea working on the problem too, it's only a matter of time. Right?

Well… of course she is still plagued by worry if she stands still for too long, but in spite of herself, there’s one thing that upsets her more when she lets her mind wander. Her thoughts always race to G'raha Tia. Once the Scions can be returned home, she'll have less cause to come to the First and will indubitably be incredibly occupied with the war with Garlemald and the chaos that Emet-Selch left in his wake. She foresees visiting with G'raha becoming a… much more infrequent event and truth be told, she hates to think of that. She left him alone in the Crystal Tower once before; she's not eager to do it again.

It’s silly. She knows that. He's far from alone here in the Crystarium. The people of Norvrandt love him and look up to him. Seven hells, he even has a daughter (granddaughter? She forgets how old he actually is) here now and Sarangerel knows Lyna will continue to care for him as the only family she’s ever had. He’s not alone at all and the balance between light and darkness has returned to this Shard. Finally, the fruits of his labors can be enjoyed in a world with warm, not overbearing, sunshine and comforting, star-studded nighttime.

So why, then, is she so concerned about leaving the First, potentially for a long while if not forever? Sarangerel stares down at the clumps of Lakeland flowers she’s gathered in hand, frowning rather deeply at them. She ought to be doing something more productive with her time, she supposes, but instead she agreed to chaperone a gaggle of young flower enthusiasts from The Crystarium. The children have just returned with their spoils and have already run off ahead back to play, waving farewell to Saran before they disappear out of sight, leaving the Auri woman to wonder for a moment at what the best use of the flowers they gave to her as "payment" for her bodyguard services would be. Even now, when she looks up at the dazzling blue spire stretching towards the heavens, towering above them all, she thinks only of G'raha and how he sleeps within, undisturbed, in her own time, back in Eorzea.

With a deep, slightly forlorn sigh, she begins her long walk to the Dossal Gate. Once there, the guard permits her entry, though they both know the Exarch hasn't sent for her lately. The heavy door groans as it's opened and she passes through, yet somehow Saran is greeted with quite the sight inside The Ocular: the Crystal Exarch snoozing quietly on the steps, surrounded by old tomes, one open in his lap, head propped on a fist, elbow leaning on a knee. Apparently he's in so deep a sleep that he doesn’t even flinch at the doors shutting behind her.

He must be exhausted. His long journey away from the Crystal Tower and his abduction by Emet-Selch no doubt took a toll, and yet she can't remember him ever stopping to take a well-deserved long rest. Instead, he plunged right back into trying to learn the reverse of the summoning spell he used to accidentally pull the Scions here.

Sarangerel smiles softly, sympathetically, her heartstrings pulled on mercilessly at this discovery. As quietly as she can, she approaches and stoops over the sleeping Miqo'te. She plucks two of the small lavender-colored flowers from her bouquet and gently tucks them by their stems into his hair, just by his ear. ]

Exarch…

[ She croons softly. When he doesn't react, she tries again, a bit more firmly this time. ]

G'raha.

Edited 2022-02-22 08:03 (UTC)

[ His journey has been that of a tireless long one. A plan so desperate that surely only those at the brink of destruction would be mad--and intelligent enough--to see it through. Who was he, the keeper of the Crystal Tower, to turn back their requests when they had showed such technological leaps? Not even the Allagans dared to traverse time and space. It was not only that. There was the smallest hint of selfishness in his agreement to take the task. If he could save his hero, the star he used to set his path? Then, all else would be worth it in the end. Even if she might never see him the same way he saw her. She was the guiding force and path in the world. His death would be far worth it--or so he thought. It is rather hard to consider such an option after the lengths the woman he has quietly loved for centuries saved his life.

Instead, now, his eyes turned to rectifying his largest mistake in summoning Sarangerel to the First: The Scions. He must find a way to send them home to their bodies and with her. There is some small part of him that longs to return to the Source with her. While it will not be the Source he knew? He can only imagine that the years worth of wisdom and knowledge he has obtained could be beneficial to his younger self. A way to uphold a promise made to an Allagan princess and to travel with the woman he loves--although it may not be as much of a secret as he had once thought. Regardless of his own wishes, however, he must see the Scions home first.

His ears twitch slightly in his slumber as she places the flowers behind one ear. The exhaustion keeps him asleep despite her calling the name he most often goes by now. Then, his ears twitch once more at the sound of his real name. The tired old ruby eyes open, blinking at first as he raises his head to see might be calling to him.

Truth be told, he hardly expected to see Sarangerel leaning in front of him with a bouquet of flowers.

G'raha startles, both arms extending out behind him to catch his momentum on the small set of stairs in the Ocular. A maddening blush takes his face before he coughs in an attempt to conduct himself as the old man he is. His crystal hand raises to his mouth as he clears his throat. Little good it does him as one can partially see through it. ]

A-ah, Sarangerel! W-what a surprise. I had not expected you back to the Crystarium for some time... [ Although he had certainly hoped. He clears his throat once more before sitting properly and forcing the embarrassed smile down. ] Tell me, is there something you need? Someway I might be of service?

[ Why else would the famed Warrior of Light and now Darkness come to visit him? ]

Edited (fudge, broke my html) 2022-02-27 20:44 (UTC)