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With the return of the sunless sea to all of Norvrandt, it was the most opportune time for reprieve–and festivities. Now that the flow of time was near equilibrium between the Source and the First, introducing Starlight Celebration wouldn’t cause any ire, or so the Warrior of Darkness thinks. After such a harrowing journey the adventurer and the Scions went through, not to mention the denizens of Norvrandt, a time to celebrate togetherness and appreciation for one another is duly needed.
Upon proposing the idea at an impromptu meeting in the Ocular, they initially earned rather curious glances and quirked eyebrows. Yet the Crystal Exarch showed no objection, noting that he is in full support of this endeavor. Alphinaud and Alisaie visibly could not contain their excitement; it’s been too long since they celebrated the occasion, they insisted. It was a comical sight–the Leveilleur twins enthusiastically bouncing off ideas for the celebration from each other, their voices echoing throughout the room. Smiling warmly, Y’shtola remarked that Starlight really did bring people together. Thancred shrugged (though everyone knew it was a feigned one) as Ryne joined the twins, pressing them for more details about the holiday. Ever the calculative thinkers, Urianger and the Exarch began discussing their plans and involvement for the upcoming celebration.
And with that, the Warrior of Darkness silently vows to themself, the first and the most memorable Starlight Celebration is underway.
Decorating the grandiose city of the Crystarium was an undertaking. Thus, the Exarch called for the citizens and told them of the Starlight Celebration, a holiday native to his homeland, which would often take place around that time. He delighted them with stories of families, friends, and loved ones gathering to celebrate their time together. A cohesive plan is already in progress so the cooperation of the Crystarium’s citizens to spread the holiday cheer was quintessential. Loud cheers and whoops were the answers to the Exarch’s ask for their help; exuberant chattering cascading throughout the city.
It took a few hours. A few days. And a few stools and stepladders at the Exarch’s behest. The Warrior of Darkness accompanied him for most of his involvement in the decorations, idle conversations giving way to good-natured banter. As the Exarch straightens the wreath on one of the walls in the hallway outside the Cabinet of Curiosity, the Warrior of Darkness holds the stabilizes the ladder. Exhaling slowly, the adventurer comments, “You know… I’m really happy that you’ve agreed to celebrating Starlight.”
The Exarch attempted to twist around, eyes widened in surprise. He opted to step down the ladder to face the warrior, greeting them with a warm smile, “No need to thank me, my friend. It seems the appropriate way to celebrate our hard-earned victory.”
The adventurer bashfully grinned at him, “Frankly, I was reminiscing about the time we planned to celebrate it; long, long ago. I remember our conversation going into the early morning; how we would find and decorate a tree and perhaps, place it in the center of the camp.”
The Miqo’te steps back, visibly flustered, ears flattened against his head. “You… you remember that much?”
Folding their arms, the Warrior of Darkness heartily chuckles, “I would rather meet the business end of a gunblade than to forget our time together.” Their tone changes towards the last half of their sentence, almost softly–tenderly, intending for only the Exarch to hear. His mouth was slightly agape in shock, his red irises practically swallowed by how wide his eyes are. He then quickly casts his gaze away from the adventurer, mouthing a quiet thank you.
Such moment of affection was interrupted, however, by the adventurer’s quip, “Of course, I also remember your challenge In the form of a snowman building contest.”
The Exarch opened his mouth to protest but not before he and the warrior heard hurried footsteps behind them. Both turned to question whoever approached; spotting Alisaie and Alphinaud, panting and out of breath. Hastily, Alisaie spoke first. “We looked for you two! Come see the fully decorated tree at the Exedra!”
The Exarch and the Warrior of Darkness met gazes before promptly nodding and following the twins to the nearby aetheryte crystal.
It took all but a few moments for the group to stand before the magnificent tree after sprinting from the aetheryte crystal the Dossal Gate. To say that it was magnificent was an understatement. It was a few malms tall, adorned with vibrant, multicolored lights that twinkled like stars. Ornaments of all shapes and sizes were strung on the tree; some made by specialized artisans, some made by children, both lovingly crafted by whichever materials they thought best. Red, gold, and blue garlands draped along the width of the tree, shimmering gently as a breeze passed by. Towards the top, the adventurer notices a peculiar set of ornaments. Dolls that resembled them, the Scions, Ryne, and the Exarch, all around the tree. The Exarch took a step forward as his eyes rest on the imposing star at the top. It was the very same shade blue of the crystal tower, veins of gold and speckles of sky blue and white; it seemed to drown out the other stars in the night sky.
“It’s incredible…” he begins, yet he seems at a loss for words.
Alphinaud turns to him, “All kinds of people within the Crystarium contributed to the Starlight preparations. It should represent everyone, after all.”
The Exarch replies, still struggling for words, “That it does, Alphinaud.” The miqo’te turns to the adventurer, giving him a smile that they wish they can keep in their heart forever.
The day of the celebration was no day of idleness. Joyous cheer, voices, and chorus resonated throughout the Crystarium. The Musica Universalis and the Exedra were bustling with activity; citizens looking for gifts and for activities. The highly anticipated event of all–as expected–was the gift exchange. The children of the Crystarium raced around the Exedra, giddy with happiness from their new gifts. Others gasped in surprise at their own present.
To no soul’s surprise, the Warrior of Darkness received many gifts. Thick sweaters, boxed homemade sweets, rather expensive materials–not to menton the many more personalized thank you cards. It reminds them of how they themself had bolted across all of Eorzea to hunt down the perfect gift for each of the Scions, sometimes, resorting to craft them by themself, by their own (masterful) hand.
They could only hope that their gifts to the Exarch were perfect.
The aforementioned Exarch was not spared by this wave of gifts either, for the Scions gave him their chosen gifts to him after exchanging with each other. The warrior pretends to look around, waiting for the chance to give him their gift. They strike up a conversation with Alisaie, who simply remarks, “You’ve bested many fearsome enemies and trying to give the Exarch a present confounds you?” She pointedly turns her head at Thancred, who was already quite intoxicated and being dragged by Y’shtola and Ryne.
Not wanting to turn down Alisaie’s challenge, the Warrior steps towards the Exarch. The last of the citizens that surrounded him have left to resume the festivities. The Exarch blinks in surprise at their proximity. “Is aught amiss?”
The adventurer shakes their head, “No, nothing. I would like to give you your gift, though I’d prefer a much more private setting.” They immediately wanted to smack themselves with their own weapon when they see the Exarch’s flushing face starting match his hair color. He tries to fight the creeping flush. The warrior’s most profound enemies were words, it seems.
“To the Ocular then?” He suggests, a clear stutter in his voice. They nod.
Thankfully, no one pressed both of them by the time they were in the confines of the Ocular. Inhaling nervously, the Exarch begins, “Y-your gift, my friend?” He idly fidgets, eyes anxiously scanning the room.
Not wanting to ruin the gift with haste, the adventurer carefully pulls out a neatly wrapped box out of their knapsack before handing it to the Miqo’te, who gracefully accepts it with a nod. It was wrapped with a red and black paper, adorned by a golden bow. He looks up towards the Warrior of Darkness, who gestures for him to unwrap it. When he opens the box, he froze at the gift nestled inside.
“Is–Is this…?”
The adventurer nods, encouraging him to take it out of the box. He slowly frees it, marveling at the gift in his hand. It was a harp. A harp, very familiar to the one he had a century ago, yet it felt so different. It was made out of rosewood, which bears a familiar shade of reddish-brown. However, it was adorned with ornate etchings; the woodwork seemingly too surreal. Gold trim graced nearly every edge of the wooden curves, its twists and turns resembling flora. Just when he was about to voice his surprise and near tears of happiness and love, he spots a papers in the box. He gingerly removes them, eyes welling when he realizes what they are. “My sheets too? You’ve kept them all these years?” Meeting the adventurer’s gaze, he almost lost his grip when he sees their smile, and the smile in their eyes–it outshined every single star in the night sky.
The adventurer explains, “You’ve told me, before that fated day in Mhor Dhona, that singing and writing music brought you joy. You wanted to sing of victories, mundane moments, and whichever happened to spur your inspiration. I only thought of you and your voice, and how much your presence radiated the campfire at night. I wanted that joy to return to you.” They were a hero of a few words, and to hear such a thing from them, to the Exarch, he felt nothing but love.
The Exarch chokes out, “I-I don’t know what to say. I debated for many nights, wondering which gift is perfect for you and I failed to even do that, I must shamefully admit.” Happiness and guilt seemed to strangle his racing heart.
Gently, the Warrior of Darkness takes his hand as they shake their head, “The fact that you’re here, right now and the future we can have–together–is the best gift I can ever have from you, Raha.” Overwhelmed at their mention of his name, his true name, he throws his arms around the adventurer (taking care to not drop the harp) while still fighting the tears. A lifetime seemed to pass in this embrace ere the warrior breaks the silence.
“A song from you is in order, eh?”
The Exarch pulled away, sniffling and grinning, gazing deeply into their eyes.
“Anything for you.”