And here it is! The next chapter to this passion project of mine. Hope you enjoy :3

This has become a regular occurrence in their tent. Y'sato maintaining his blades and armor with G'raha reading. Judging from the size of the book currently sitting in his lap what he is reading isn't exactly light material.

It still eludes him how G'raha can consume such a hefty looking book in a day, and more if he really gets into it, but he doesn't question it. After all he is no Archon, no scholar. He can't begin to comprehend or understand the topics G'raha devours like nothing. Even now his friend sits cross legged in their nest of furs, facing one of the walls of their tent, reading the pages laid before him with a deep look of concentration in his eyes, brows furrowed. His tail beats out a steady slow rhythm at his side into his bedroll, seemingly with a life of its own. His ears doesn't even twitch or flick in Y'sato's direction upon him getting to his feet. For all intents and purposes G'raha is utterly deaf to the world, the words on the page the only thing that matters to him. A historian through and through.

An idea surfaces in his mind. Taking greater care to mute his steps Y'sato inches closer. He crouches down ever so slowly beside his distracted friend. A smirk on his lips he blows at him, right into one of his ears. The reaction is immediate.

"Y'sato!"

Mismatched eyes grow wide as he whips around to face him, his tail stuttering its contended slow rhythmic beat, ears drawn back. G'raha is startled enough he almost drops his book, but he quickly recovers. "I-I saw you there I swear."

Y'sato laughs, eyes filled with mirth. "Yes you certainly did. Sharp of wit as you are." His ears wiggles at him as his self satisfied grin grows. "Truthfully though you looked distracted enough another Calamity could have struck and you would've been none the wiser."

A red tint creeps into his cheeks as G'raha looks at him all aghast. "I assure you I would have noticed if something of such a dire nature was to befall us. That said perhaps I have read enough of this thesis on the nature of corrupted crystal formations for today." He looks down at the still open tome in his lap, its cover a deep red and accented with gold. Using one of his many bookmarks to keep track of his progress, a black quill, he closes it with all diligent care before reaching down to pick up a worn leather bound thing, a reverence in his touch. A precious leather bound thing that is never far from him these days, at Y'sato's permittance of course. Y'sato just smiles at him as G'raha opens it and thumbs through the pages until he finds the entry he has in mind.

"You do not disappoint, my friend. Your personal account in braving the Labyrinth fills me with such excitement. Oh how I wish I could have been there with you to see it all transpire before my own eyes." He looks down to the yellowed worn pages at his fingertips with a warm fondness in his gaze Y'sato still can't fully place. "Truly you got a way with words. Succinct and to the point, and yet so evocative."

Y'sato scoffs, shrugging. "You flatter me. I'm not half as good with words like you."

"And you don't need to be. Sometimes to be succinct is enough, as long as the message is clear."

From his still crouched position Y'sato looks up just in time to see G'raha smile at him. A heartfelt, reassuring smile. He carefully closes the journal like its the most treasured thing and sets it aside on the storage box where Y'sato usually sets it aside.

"Also I assure you I have only read the passages you permitted me to read. To do anything less would not become a historian worthy of my title. Besides, I would never go against a dear friend's wishes."

There is something unsaid in the way G'raha says those words. Something that has a fluttery, warm feeling wrap around Y'sato's heart. It is not unwelcome and he shows his appreciation with a happy swish of his tail and a smile.

"I trust you."

G'raha's smile splits into a toothy grin, his eyes narrowing in that charming way of his Y'sato can't get enough of. Holding that grin with his gaze he pushes himself back on his feet. With a flick of his tail he turns towards the exit of the tent. The day is still young, the sun yet to reach its zenith and having eaten around the campfire just a short while ago he feels ready to tackle the days adventures. He has ever been unable to sit still for long, and the day they will finally venture into the Tower proper is steadily approaching, the anticipation of what horrors he will face within stirring his heart almost into a frenzy. Try as he might he can't bring himself to rest easy when he knows a fight is looming on the horizon, and this day is no different.

He turns back to G'raha, the suggestion he has on his mind already lightening up his bright eyes. He can hardly keep his tail from twitching in anticipation. "I wondered if you might want to join me for an adventure? I don't know our destination yet, but we will figure it out as we go."

G'raha doesn't need to be asked twice. He is already on his feet, tail swishing in excitement, his eyes as eager as can be. "Do you ever need to ask? Of course I will go with you. Just give me a moment to prepare."

"Well so do I."

The scent of oil from him maintaining his daggers still clinging to his hands, Y'sato starts to work himself into his armor. It is a thing that comes naturally to him by now, but it doesn't make it less of a hassle sometimes. Still he wont leave any settlement without it. Especially in a land as hostile as Mor Dhona. He securely tighten the belt clasps, his armor mostly consisting of a thin lightweight chain mail shirt hidden under black leather. Leather boots and gloves are pulled on with trained ease, and as usual he finishes the look with his vibrant red scarf, the long end draped down his back, this armor set more primed for fighting rather than stealth.

Daggers securely fastened to his hips he turns to look at G'raha just as his friend finishes tugging on his hefty warwolf gloves. He picks up his quiver and bow resting in the corner by the storage box and deftly latching them to his back he with a playful smirk touches Y'sato's bicep. Even through the leather his touch doesn't fail to heat Y'sato's skin. He suppresses a shiver, ignoring the way his friend's proximity, the way he smiles at him with such boyish charm has his heart quicken his chest.

It means nothing. Is just a friendly touch. Calm down. Focus.

Clearly knowing what effects his touch has on him G'raha's tail gives a mischievous flick, and that is Y'sato's only warning.

"Let's race. Last one to reach The Eight Sentinels is a daft moogle." With a stupid grin on his face G'raha darts out of the tent, leaving him in the dust.

"Hey!"

Y'sato doesn't hesitate. Fleet of foot as he is, he is outside of the tent in a heartbeat, nary making any sound. The sunlight near blinds him, him almost running into someone, but he doesn't stop, muttering some hurried apology before he sets out. He blinks. Thanks to his Keeper blood, his eyes takes a moment to adjust to the sun's glare.

His eyes refocused he looks around for his mischievous starry eyed friend, only to find G'raha already yalms ahead, his red hair stark against a sea of earthen blue as he weaves around a crystallised pillar. G'raha's speed is impressive he admits, but Y'sato, he got a trick up his sleeve. He takes off after him in a near sprint, agile legs practised in carrying him through the sprawling plains and sands of Thanalan. The jagged crystalline terrain of Mor Dhona is nothing in comparison. Crystal dusts sparkles in his wake from his hurried footfalls. He is gaining on him. G'raha might have gotten a great head start like he did when swimming the other day, but this time Y'sato wont loose easily.

A devious smirk on his lips he deftly fishes a small smoke bomb out of his pocket. With practised ease he slams it into the ground and obscured by the hazy smoke he channelling wind aether through a jutsu sign know as shukuchi, prepares to leap forward. He feels it build around him, whipping at his clothes. In but few heartbeats he has gained enough traction. Eyes on his target he doesn't hesitate. With powerful legs he leaps forward, moving like the wind, its rush all he can hear in his ears.

With blinding speed he reappears right beside G'raha. The suddenness of his arrival draws a startled yelp out of him, eyes wide as he almost stumbles on his own two feet.

Y'sato can't help but chuckle at the surprised look on his face.

"That's cheating!"

"Says the one who dashed out the tent before I could even collect myself."

Not loosing his momentum, Y'sato falls into a dead sprint. The wind is a rush through his hair, his footfalls swift and light across unforgiving glowing crystal. It's exhilarating. The rush of blood coursing through his veins, the burning in his lungs. From the footfalls following in his wake he can tell G'raha is gaining on him, but Y'sato doesn't look back. Fast his friend might be, but he got nothing to rival the fleet footedness of a trained shinobi. Nor his stamina.

And so they race down the winding crystalline path leading to the ornate, askew gates leading to The Eight Sentinels. Y'sato slips past them without pausing for a second, knowing all too well how strong G'raha's competitive spirit to be.

Victory is at hand. He can see it. The crumbling heaps of what remains of the Sentinels coming into view, the gleaming crystalline lines forming straight veins on the ground. He but needs cross the first line and his score will be settled.

"Oh no you wont." With a renewed burst of energy G'raha tackles into him from behind. Y'sato stumbles, fighting to regain his footing, but he isn't quick enough. The gasp of instinctual fear is all that rips free from his throat as he tumbles to the ground, his chest colliding roughly with the rocky surface, nearly knocking the breath from him. It is only thanks to his quick reflexes catching himself he doesn't face plant into the ground.

He feels G'raha already moving, but he doesn't let him. Without thinking he grabs onto his leg, using his wiry strength to pull him back down while he pushes himself up. He has scarce gotten his feet under him when he feels G'raha's arms encircle his middle, wrestling him to the ground. With a grunt, tail lashing, Y'sato answers him in kind. If it is wrestling he wants, then wrestling he will get.

They roll around on the ground, neither wanting to give an ilm. They end up sitting on their knees facing each other. Y'sato's ears pin back, tail still lashing, something G'raha mirrors. His mismatched eyes burns with such fierce competitive fire Y'sato has never seen as they look into his, unflinching. He feels his passion sear into him, thrilling him like nothing else. It spurs him on, driving him to pushi back against his arms harder.

A huff of breath enough to plume Y'sato's bangs escapes his friend, a strained noise from the back of his throat, but G'raha does not yield. The muscles in his arms swells from the strenuous activity, his training as an archer making his arms and back strong. Straining to keep such wiry, determined strength at bay Y'sato wonders how anyone could ever think him weak. The evidence is plain before him, in how even he, the bane of primals, strains to hold him back as he currently is. Yes there is no doubt about it. Before him is a man worthy of taking up the mantle in becoming a renowned adventurer. Perhaps he would make an even finer Warrior of Light than he himself so far has turned out to be.

And...if it was up to him this practised archer would have been at his side through the Labyrinth.

"G'raha..." He grounds out, straining to hold him back, arms trembling. "You might have the upper hand, but I won't let you win easy."

There is a mischievous glint in G'raha's eye. "Giving up already are we? Has our valiant hero finally met his match?"

Y'sato can tell from the lilt of his voice he's teasing him, thinking he has already won. Well two can play that game, and wiry muscly strength isn't everything.

Time to tip the scales.

The flick of his tail his only tell. He still pushing against G'raha's arms he twists to the side so abruptly his friend looses his momentum. Y'sato doesn't hesitate. Seizing his window he rolls G'raha onto his back, pinning him in place.

The bow still on his back clacks and the arrows in his quiver rattles against the stony ground as they impact roughly with it, but Y'sato pays the sounds no heed as he straddles G'raha's hips. Not giving him any more room to wrestle he pins his wrists on either side of his head, and there he stays, holding him down, out of breath. Mismatched eyes stares up at him, widened, beads of sweat trickling down over his temples, his forehead. His chest heaves, him too clearly out of breath.

"Victory is mine!." Y'sato announces proudly once he finds his voice, tail swishing.

However from the mischievous smirk in the corner of G'raha's mouth to judge he doesn't seem entirely convinced. "Forgive me, my friend, but I must call your bluff. You may have won our wrestling match, but not the race."

There is a sound of a boot scraping against stone. Y'sato's ear swivels towards the jarring sound, and turning around his eyes widens. He blanches. Unwittingly to him, him having rolled G'raha over on his back, pinning him in place, they inched just close enough to the first aether vein for his friend to effortlessly shift his foot over their designated finish line.

G'raha's smirk splits into a toothy grin. "And so the opportunistic thief makes off with the hero's prized victory."

Y'sato looks down at him just in time to see the wicked look in his eyes.

"G'raha, you little-"

"All is fair in love and war, my friend."

His words, the way he looks at him with his ears tilting forward in his direction solely focusing on him brings him pause. He looks stunning in the sunlight, eyes of ruby and emerald shimmering like jewels as he gazes up at him with such playful mirth, his smile radiant like the sun itself. Gods he is beautiful.

G'raha...

"But pray tell, for how long do you intend to keep me pinned down like this? As much as I enjoy your closeness this is starting to become uncomfortable." G'raha wriggles underneath him in an attempt to try to push Y'sato off him, impatient, his wrists still seized. One he fails completely finding himself trapped. A look of discomfort flashes across his face, furrowing his brow. "And you are heavy."

"Ah sorry." His attention drawn to their compromising position, Y'sato is quick to get to his feet. Ignoring the heat he feels rising in his cheeks, he offers G'raha a hand. He gratefully accepts, dusting himself off when he finds his footing. All the while Y'sato stands off to the side, trying his best to ignore how his skin is all aflush, how his stomach has this strange fluttery sensation bubbling up inside it, and he is pretty sure it has nothing to do with their little race or wrestling match.

He looks down into his tingling hands. The way he had pinned G'raha down, his words, how he had looked up at him, all vulnerable and trusting. It is doing things to him he can't explain. His heart, it wont stop racing.

"You are not an easy one to beat, my friend, but is why I enjoy competing with you. You are never shy in rising to the challenge."

Y'sato blinks, his ears twitching as he snaps out of his daze. There is a telling grin on G'raha's face. One that narrows his eyes in the way Y'sato ever finds so charming. His friend is still smug he won the race no doubt.

"Neither are you." Y'sato says simply, a knowing smile on his face. His voice grows soft as he adds. "Thanks for being my friend."

Now it is G'raha's turn to blush, his cheeks pink. The proud set of his ears falters, but only for a fraction as he reclaims the hold of his bravado. "Of course. You will always have me."

Those words and spoken with such confidence. Y'sato's eyes widens. They hit him harder than he could ever have braced himself for. They envelop his heart, warm, comforting, reassuring.

A barely audible gasp escapes him. G'raha, he means them, with all of his heart, his tell tale smile never wavering.

Before him stands a true friend.

Words fail him, but in their place he reaches out to rest a hand on G'raha's shoulder. He squeezes him firmly, his hand held just above the arcane eye tattoo, the mark of the Student's of Baldesion. "Thank you." He whispers, his throat tight, but his smile is genuine.

And his friend understands. Y'sato feels him squeeze his shoulder back in turn. A laugh escapes him, a small, fragile thing, and Y'sato does something he has never felt close enough with anyone to do, something he could all but watch play out from the sidelines. A fond thing done amongst family, friends. Amongst lovers. Closing his eyes he leans in to press his forehead against G'raha's. A deep sign of trust, of acceptance carried in many a miqo'te tribe, and he hopes his friend, orphaned as he is still understands the gesture.

G'raha presses back without hesitation, his own eyes closed, and the feel of his ready affection has Y'sato's breath hitch in his throat. Feeling such heartfelt warmth flood his chest he catches G'raha's hands in his, palm against palm, their fingers intertwining. Whole, for the first time he feels whole.

Silence stretches between them, their breaths mingling, and in that one singular moment Y'sato is certain their hearts beat as one. He can't explain it, but in this moment he knows.

He has found his other half.

G'raha is the first to pull back. If Y'sato didn't find him beautiful before, he definitely is now. His eyes soften to the shine of hearth fire, and in them Y'sato sees something he realises he's been searching for all along.

Acceptance, a home.

Someone he can bare his heart too, scars and all.

The thought is terrifying, but given time he believes he will muster the courage.

G'raha tugs on his hand still intertwined with his. "Come. I want to show you something."

Intrigued Y'sato follows his pull, tail flicking curiously. They are the only ones in this enclosed area, and as far as he knows there is nothing much more noteworthy to see than what he has already seen. The Sentinels still lays broken in heaps of rubble, but the aetherlines edged into the ground are still aglow in vibrant red, green, blue and orange. Colours of the elements. Y'sato still remember the day they first broke these aetherial barriers with the elemental aetherclaws in order to reach the portal that would take them into the Labyrinth, and furthermore will lead him and his chosen party into Sycrus Tower itself

Speaking of the portal G'raha pulls him up the stairs towards it. Y'sato's ears twitches in alarm. Does he intent to?

But no, G'raha continues, eagerly pulling him around to the other side of the humming, hexagon shaped portal. It refracts the very light that shines through it, almost blinding. Due to that fact Y'sato can't look at it for long before dizziness announces itself.

A fair distance behind it, G'raha finally comes to a stop. All that lies before them now is a deep yawing seemingly fathomless abyss, and in the distance stands the radiant Crystal Tower itself. It gleams in the sunlight, incandescent in its splendour. No matter where his feet takes him in Mor Dhona, the Tower is ever a vista to behold on the horizon. It's majesty never fails to steal Y'sato's breath away, and this time doubly so now that there is no distractions to cloud his thoughts or pull his eyes away from it.

"Majestic is it not?"

"Without compare..."

He feels G'raha let go of his hand, and the absence of his warm touch has him finally avert his eyes from the Tower. He watches him take a seat on the ground, and looking up at him, G'raha pats the sun warm stone next to him in friendly invitation. With a smile Y'sato takes it. The sun beams warm on his skin he sits down, cross legged next to his friend. After putting aside his bow and quiver on the ground beside him, G'raha assuages his forearm on his raised knee. His brows knit together in thought as he stares out towards the wide chasm. His tail starts tapping the ground, uncertain.

This insecurity Y'sato can feel radiating from him in waves, has worry pool in his stomach. This isn't like him, but he doesn't push him. He knows his friend well enough by this point he will tell him if anything bothers him. Or so he hopes.

He hears him clear his throat, followed by a deep breath. He is about to ask him if everything is alright when he hears it, humming.

It is low, barely audible at first, but Y'sato hears it. His ears perked he looks to his friend and true enough he is humming, his eyes closed. The sound is hypnotic, his tail beating along with his languid mournful melody, the fur so soft against the stone. Unhurried.

G'raha's hum breaks into song, and Y'sato watches him, entranced. The low tenor of his voice embraces him, and Y'sato gives in to it. Gives in to the beautiful notes he sings.

"To all of my children in whom Life flows abundant.

To all of my children to whom Death has passed his judgement."

Y'sato's heart pangs sharp in his chest. He knows this song. A song dedicated to those who fought valiantly at the frontline of Carteneau during the Calamity five years past. He hasn't heard it in ages, and never sung so beautifully, with such heart.

"The soul yearns for honor, and the flesh the hereafter.

Look to those who walked before to lead those who walk after."

The note he holds rings clear, more beautiful than anything Y'sato has heard in ages. The honest sorrow in his voice is piercing, moving Y'sato in ways that takes him by surprise, his chest tight. While he wasn't there on the battlefield, he wasn't spared the fallout following the Calamity's wake. So many dead, his tribe left in disarray...

His mother...almost died...lost an arm...

"Shinning is the land's light of justice.

Ever flows the Land's well of purpose."

G'raha's voice builds, swelling with the hope he carries within, bidding it to soar. His eyes opens to look to the Tower in the distance, it holding every secret he hopes to bring to light. And in that moment, seeing the longing in his gaze, hearing it so clearly in his voice, Y'sato hopes so dearly he finds the answer he seeks.

He will help him find it.

"Walk free, walk free, walk free, believe...

The Land's alive, so believe..."

The note rings clear until he lets it die down in his throat. One of his ears flicks in Y'sato's direction, and his eyes follow. The corners of his mouth lifts into a faint bashful smile. "What do you think?"

"G'raha..." Y'sato struggles to find the words to describe the beauty that just graced his ears. "That was...beautiful."

G'raha ducks his head from the praise, ears downturned, but Y'sato can tell it is from him feeling self conscious.

"Truly I mean it. Where did you learn to sing like that?" He reaches out for him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. G'raha recovers quickly, lifting his gaze to meet his. There is still some embarrassment clinging to the edges, but for him, his friend dares to show himself, to be vulnerable.

"I...It started as a hobby so to speak. Something I enjoyed doing in solitude. Until Mistress Krile overheard me singing one day that is. She told me I would make a fine bard if I so wanted. It took some encouragement, but I took her advice to heart, and bought myself a lute. Now I am still new to all this. At most I am but an aspiring bard."

Krile. Y'sato has yet to meet her, but she sounds like a sensible woman. He tells G'raha as much. "She has a good ear. Know that I approve. You would make a fine bard."

The laugh that escapes G'raha is infectious, and Y'sato joins in. The way his friend's nose crinkles, its adorable.

"In truth I wanted to sing for you before, but I needed to work up the nerve." G'raha says once he recovers. His eyes, they shine with such joy, his tail swishing happily to accompany it.

"It was all worth it. Thanks for indulging me."

"I can sing more for you later if you like?"

"I would love to."

Y'sato's admission makes G'raha light up more than he already is. The smile lifting the corners of his mouth is radiant, his eyes gleaming. He shines for him, and him alone. The sight, it has something stir within Y'sato.

His fingers trembling slightly he brings his hand up from G'raha's shoulder to cup his cheek. Something he has never worked up the nerve to do before, but G'raha opened up enough for him and him alone to grace him with such a beautiful singing voice and-

This feels like a paltry way to repay him in comparison, but still it feels right. Even through his glove he can feel the warmth of his skin, although faint. A fire lit within. A true Seeker.

G'raha leans into his affectionate touch, radiant smile never leaving his lips as he brings up his own hand to cup Y'sato's cheek. His hand is warm against his skin. Surprisingly so, ungloved fingers coming to rest against his cheekbone. A calloused tipped thumb traces the old scar across his cheek, and Y'sato's eyes slip closed from the sensation, letting out a shuddering sigh.

The fluttering sensation in his stomach is back, the tingling in his skin, his quickening heartbeat but he doesn't mind. He chases G'raha's touch, and when he opens his eyes, the green depths are filled with searing adoration, love.

He voices his name before he can stop himself, his pupils dilating slightly.

"Raha..."

The minute widening of G'raha's eyes gives him away, as well as the stuttering of his tail which so far has been tapping the ground contently in a languid motion. His reaction has uncertainty crawl its way into Y'sato's chest and he pulls away from his touch, reluctantly lowering his own hand back to his side.

"I'm sorry. Is it too soon to call you that? I meant no offence."

"No it is alright. Tis just-" G'raha's tail resumes its tapping, now quicker, restless. "Was just unexpected is all."

Y'sato finds his eyes on his again, and he searches them. He finds no doubt, no discomfort glinting therein. Only acceptance. The ready affection, the sentiment. It has Y'sato's heart swell.

"So I can call you...Raha?"

G'raha's ear flick from the novelty of being addressed thus, but his smile never falters."Yes. I admit I even enjoy it. Thank you for having such faith in me...Sato."

The meaning in his words aren't lost on him, neither is the knowing glint in his eye. The weight of them, what he is saying, of hearing his name uttered thus unadorned, free of his tribal prefix...

No one has called him by that name except his mother and she's-

He blinks back against the unbidden tears he feels well behind his eyes, forces himself to smile brighter even when it trembles at the edges. For G'raha to call him thus. It means more to him than his friend will ever know. He ducks his head, bunts it against G'raha's shoulder. Both in an attempt to hide, but also to tell him he is grateful. So immensely grateful.

G'raha chuckles, bringing up a hand to scratch him gently behind one of his ears. Now this G'raha has done before. When Y'sato disclosed to him about his true heritage not too long after they first met. He leans into it, flicks his ear to grant him better access. A couple traitorous tears escapes, but he wipes them away quickly. This is a happy moment. A profound moment. He doesn't want to spoil it with this display of emotion. Even when his tears comes from a place of joy, not grief.

The touch, the comforting scratch behind his ear lingers. Longer than what would be expected of friendship, but in this moment Y'sato doesn't care. There's no one here but them. G'raha is his other half. He knows this in his heart despite such words never having being spoken between them.

And right now words aren't needed.

Feeling he can breathe easier, and look his friend in the eye without breaking into more tears, he raises his head from his shoulder. There is concern in those mismatched eyes of teal and vibrant red he loves so much, but Y'sato is quick to reassure him with a smile.

"So where to next then?" He suggests, wanting to lighten the mood.

G'raha gives it some thought, bringing his knuckles up to his chin. "Hmm how about the Singing Shards? I have long wanted to have a closer look at the piece of Dalamud that is embedded in that volatile crystal."

"Certainly." Y'sato says pushing himself back on his feet. Trust his friend in wanting to explore anything Allagan. His heart. It feels lighter. Lighter than it has in ages.

G'raha latches his bow and quiver onto his back before he too gets to his feet. Y'sato finds his eyes on him once more. There is a different air around him now. One filled with adoration, of understanding. He gestures for him to take the lead, a fond smile of appreciation on his lips, genuine.

"Lead the way, my friend."

Returning his smile Y'sato does as he is told.

Sunlight catching in his ear rings he forms the vanguard, making sure G'raha isn't far behind as they pass the threshold of the gate leading back into Mor Dhona proper. Already he shivers with anticipation in hearing G'raha sing again. To be that close to him again. Even now his skin still tingles from where he had caressed his cheek, his scar.

G'raha already means the world to him.

And he knows he will protect him with his life.

The characters took over completely for most of this chapter. I could but follow their lead. Immensely fun to write I tell you.

I did however debate if I should have G'raha sing or not, but his singing voice is part of his character so I wanted to showcase it. Furthermore Answers has ever been significant to me, and with G'raha here eagerly joining this expedition also in part to seek answers for his Allagan heritage this song felt the most fitting, as well as for them to bond over, the song holding special significance for them both, although in different ways.

On that related note I still can't believe FFXIV celebrates its 10th anniversary already! Neither that I have been playing for 8 of them. The Rising Event made me emotional, the messages throughout it telling me things I needed to hear. I owe this game a lot. I wouldn't be writing fic much without it, and I look ever forward to where it will take us in the future.

So I wish you all happy Anniversary, and may moogle tomes ever rain fairly upon your head.