Chapter 21: Reflections in Crystal
His heart was in his throat as he carefully wrapped all six spirit vessels in some fabric he had. It had just as easily been a scarf as it could have been a shirt or a pair of pants but once he'd tucked the bundle in his bag, he found he couldn't remember what he'd used. Beq Lugg had assured him that the vessels were not fragile, that such care was excessive, but they didn't push the matter when he had told them he didn't feel right just shoving the souls of his friends into his bag. Not when he knew he wasn't going to be able to not run the instant he was through the portal, not that he told Beq Lugg that. With one final farewell to Beq Lugg and Ryne - the latter of which he gave a tight hug, unintentionally breaking some of her resolve; there were tears on her face when he stepped away but she smiled at him regardless - he was through the portal and back on the Source.
The instant he could connect to the Revenant's Toll aetheryte, he used it. His heart was still in his throat, just as driving as the anxiety making his skin crawl. He darted through the Seventh Heaven and into the Rising Stones, the distance seeming to be far shorter than he remembered. Or maybe that was the anxiety.
Blessedly both Krile and Tataru were in the main space. Krile reacted first, hurrying to meet him as he slowed. "Echo'a!" she exclaimed, worry in her expression as Tataru came to stand at her side. "Is everything alright?"
Too many words threw themselves into his throat with his heart and he swallowed around them as he nodded. "I have their spirit vessels," warbled horribly but at least he had managed something. Everything else was his to fret about.
Krile and Tataru shared a look and a nod before Krile said, "Then let us return them home. Come on."
The Dawn's Respite was unchanged, as were the five bodies laid out on the beds. It left a surreal feeling in the air and he had to remind himself they were fine, that they would be fine. Krile touched his hand drawing him away from the edge, her expression kind as she assured him, "They're all ok. This will work."
Would it, though?
Gods, no; he couldn't think that. Not now.
He pulled out the spirit vessels and carefully unwrapped five of the six - ah, it had been a shirt - passing vessels to both Krile and Tataru. With the sixth back in his bag, he placed the spirit vessel in his hand on Thancred's bed, dully noticing that his hands were shaking.
He had foolishly fretted about not being able to tell the spirit vessels apart before they had followed through with the plan. Holding each crystal, though, was like holding their hands. Some he knew more intimately than others but he knew all of them. Even Alphinaud and Alisaie, as similar as they were in both body and aether, were still very distinct. It was a weird comfort to take in the surrealness of the whole situation.
He joined Krile and Tataru in the middle of all the beds, seeking out Krile's gaze. She nodded. "Now all that is left is to wait. They should transfer on their own."
Waiting. It was always waiting. He found his hand in his bag before he could find the vessel within it. Though he hesitated, he followed through with his initial, albeit unconscious, desire and wrapped his hand around it, seeking both comfort and reassurance in its existence alone. The brush of the Exarch's soul was a balm he hadn't dared to fully seek.
Gods, let this work.
Alphinaud's vessel came to life first, quickly followed by Alisaie with the others not far behind, but it was Alisaie who woke first. She lifted an arm and rubbed at her face, asking groggily, "Did it...? Are we...?" before she sat up. He took a step towards her but found himself hesitating as the others sat up. When he looked to Alphinaud, he found the other already looking at him and gained a soft smile and an outstretched hand from the young man. Alisaie mirrored her brother as he took a step forward and he moved to stand between the twins' beds, taking their hands and squeezing them, relieved. They both squeezed back, their own relief clear on their tired faces.
Behind him, Thancred voiced, "We're home."
"Oh!" Tataru explained, tears in her voice. "Oh, you're back! You're back! You're all back!"
Alphinaud's hand slipped from his but Alisaie clung stubbornly to his other one. He certainly wasn't about to complain but he did swap hands so that he could look at the others. Alisaie allowed it, but only after she had tugged him right up to the edge of her bed so that she could lean against him as well.
Y'shtola caught his gaze. "Thank you. My body feels like a sack of popotoes, but otherwise I have never felt better. That said, I doubt any of us will be fit to travel for some while. May we leave the rest to you?"
Immediately his thoughts went to the final spirit vessel.
Urianger spoke up. "The vessel beareth our comrade's blood. With it in thy possession, the way will surely open before thee."
One last soul to return.
He nodded. With a quick smile to Alisaie - she was already withdrawing, letting him go - he took off at a run, desperate to burn off the anxiety as much as he was eager to awaken G'raha.
Tataru's voice chased after him. "What!? But you've only just got here!"
The journey to the Crystal Tower felt like it took ages but it also seemed like he had blinked and was already running down the hallway that led to the sealed doors. Twelve preserve him if the damned surrealness of the day wouldn't just leave him alone already.
Something clinked against the floor behind him, drawing him up short. Had something fallen from his bag? Was it-
The rising concern dissipated as his gaze fell onto a familiar orange crystal. Anticipation shot down his spine. He glanced around but there was no one else there. Approaching it confirmed it was the Azem crystal, still brilliantly orange and somehow there. He snatched it up and pocketed it. He would deal with it later.
The doors were imposing as ever and he still thought they were excessively tall. A flicker of Amaurot and its massive doors chased that thought but it didn't linger. The Exarch's spirit vessel was warm against his palm as he pulled it out of his bag. For a moment, he wondered if the spirit and mind within knew where they were at. He jumped, startled by the doors coming to life seemingly on their own. Well, that certainly saved him the effort of figuring out how to open them himself.
He pressed the spirit vessel to his chest as he crossed the threshold and into the quiet of the Source's Crystal Tower. It was dimly lit as the rest of the tower was still dormant and he found it unnerving after so many times of passing through that door on the First into its well lit halls. The door closed behind him, startling him again. Instinctively he skittered away from it not wanting to get his tail or anything else on his person caught despite having been a good three paces inside when he had stopped walking. The spirit vessel dug into his chest and he forced himself to relax.
The next question, though, was where to go. He had only ever been up the tower and in a whole two rooms and he would be very disappointed in G'raha if the man chose the floor of all places to spend the next however long unconscious.
The Ocular filled his mind, specifically the other set of doors that sat opposite the Umbilicus.
Wait, there had been another set of doors in the Ocular?
His feet trodden the familiar path to the Ocular, unbothered by the dim lighting. The doors gave under his push and for a heartbeat, he thought he was back on the First. The room had never been occupied by anything other than bodies whenever he had visited - bodies being his own and anyone else who he was conversing with - so it made sense it would look the exact same, but it was more than that, he was certain. It was like the very air was the same or held the same feel. He shook his head. The stress was finally getting to him
There was indeed a second set of doors on the opposite wall from the Umbilicus. How he had never really noticed in the numerous times he had passed through the room was beyond him but if G'raha was behind those doors, he wasn't about to complain.
The door gave under his touch, opening into a room that had been pitch black for the split second it took for the chandelier overhead to start glowing. The light never got as bright as the Umbilicus but it was certainly bright enough to clearly see the burst of red that was G'raha's hair against crystal blue, gold, and white sheets.
Apprehension rushed his veins and the breath he took to try and quell it shook in his chest. The spirit vessel dug into his chest again but he couldn't get himself to pull it away. He crossed to the side of the decent sized bed and placed the vessel down as he had Thancred's. His hand was shaking again. He shoved both hands in his pockets as he took two steps back and waited.
It felt like it took longer than it had for the others for the spirit vessel to burst to life but he wasn't above blaming the anxiety for it. It probably was anxiety's fault anyway. After a long moment, the spirit vessel lost all light, now empty, but G'raha didn't stir. He waited. Counted through the seconds until he lost his place, started over, and lost it again. The edge of the bed dug into his legs as he brushed the knuckles of his hand against the side of G'raha's throat. He found both pulse and warmth there, alleviating a fraction of his worry. Placing a hand on G'raha's chest, he shook the man. "G'raha. G'raha, wake up." No response. It felt like there was something in his throat and he swallowed against it and the tears quickly filling his eyes. "G'raha. Come on. Wake up." But no amount of shaking seemed to stir the unconscious miqo'te.
Scouring the room resulted in absolutely nothing beyond him finding G'raha's gear. He sat down heavily against the side of the bed and buried his face in a hand, sobs tearing themselves from his chest. After everything, to hit this hurdle felt like falling into the void, sending him to drown in grief he had thought he had dealt with, grief for the Exarch, grief for the Ascians.
Grief for himself.
His chest hurt and his face was raw by the time he calmed down, though who truly knew how long that had taken. He leaned his head back against the mattress, barely tall enough slouched as he was to rest his head on the top. He sought out G'raha's face from that odd angle and found the man still slumbering. Maybe if he waited for a bit longer, G'raha would wake on his own. If not, he would go find something that would wake him.
He hadn't intended to fall asleep, half turned into the side of the bed, his head resting on the precipice of the top. Waking was a slow process and he didn't bother to rush it. Exhaustion clung to him and it was only bolstered by the fingers carding ever so tenderly through his hair.
His eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright. G'raha blinked owlishly at him as he met the man's gaze, a hand held in the air above where Echo'a's head had been. After a breath, G'raha offered, "It was not my intent to wake you; you appeared to need the rest and I was not opposed to letting you have it."
He blinked and found tears in his eyes. He laughed, the sound watery even to his own ears, and the concern that filled G'raha's face only bolstered the relief filling his chest. Regardless of the results, he was very glad G'raha was awake. "It's good to see you awake, G'raha," he said with a grin.
Just as when Echo'a had said those words after dealing with Emet-Selch, tears filled G'raha's eyes and spilled down his cheeks. But unlike that time, this time G'raha laughed, full and bright and relieved. "Well," he said through the tail ends of his laughter, "'tis good to be awake. Awake and on the Source with you."
Echo'a scrambled to his feet enough to throw his arms around G'raha and his weight into the man's chest. G'raha gave a grunt in response but his arms were around Echo'a before G'raha's back hit the mattress. G'raha buried his face into Echo'a's neck, trembling much as Echo'a was and the pair of them laid clinging to the other until emotions calmed down.
Echo'a remained awake as G'raha slept against his chest. He had rolled onto his back at some point near the end of the emotional turmoil and G'raha had simply gone with him, arms still securely wrapped around his chest. G'raha's hair was undone from its normal little braid so he was entertaining himself with carding his fingers through the long strands. With how quickly G'raha had passed out, Echo'a was certain the other was not going to last the entire walk back to the Rising Stones. At least, not on his own he wouldn't.
"Why are you putting all of my things in your bag?" G'raha asked, watching him from the bed while in the process of pulling on his other shoe.
"I'm not," he corrected, amused. "I'm balancing the weight. It'll make getting to the Rising Stones easier."
"Balancing the weight?" G'raha parroted, confusion and amusement in his words.
"Yep." He slung G'raha's bag into place opposite his own and found it quite balanced. He met G'raha's gaze with a smile. "Now I'm balanced."
G'raha rolled his eyes, getting up. "I can carry my own things, you know."
"I know," he said, and led the way out the door.
G'raha's responding huff chased him out the door before the other's footfall did.
By the time they were stepping out of the tower itself and G'raha had sealed the door, G'raha was already looking tired. Shaking his head at the man's stubbornness, he walked right up to G'raha and grabbed the underside of G'raha's upper left arm with his left hand. "Wha-" was the only response he allowed G'raha to have as he bodily pulled G'raha onto his back. The man squawked in his ear, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he hefted G'raha's legs up around his waist. Linking his fingers behind his back under G'raha's legs, he started to walk. "Echo'a." Was that a whine he could hear in G'raha's voice? It was certainly embarrassed and it pulled a cheeky grin to his lips. "I can walk just fine on my own."
"Yes, and exhaust yourself in the process. You're going to want all your strength to seal the tower once you and Krile have that conversation. And from what I gathered, you were itching to get it sealed as soon as possible."
G'raha grumbled as he pressed his face into the space between his arm and Echo'a's neck. "And so you're going to exhaust yourself in my stead?"
"You're not particularly heavy," he said, echoing G'raha's words from what felt like an age ago. G'raha huffed a laugh into his neck. "So let me do this for you, after everything you've done for me and the others."
G'raha pressed his face into Echo'a's neck and he felt G'raha's tail curl against his own. "If that is what you want, who am I to argue."
He leaned his head against G'raha's as he gave a grateful hum.