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The Crystal Exarch's nightly visit to his most adored Warriors' room at the Pendants had gotten rather side-tracked, and collapsing into his lap, exhausted, Macchi'to nestles in closely. He'll surely leave the Exarch covered in bits of fur, but he doesn't care. Rubbing his ears upon his chest feels good enough to be worth it, to him, anyway, and it's not like he's the one cleaning the robes later.
Even though they've only known each other for a short time, the Exarch is dear to him. He's patient, he's kind, and he's a good guide for someone feeling utterly lost—literally and metaphorically—like Macchi'to, ever since his arrival on the first. He is a good friend; he grounds him, and it's obvious that he cares a lot. Despite this, Macchi'to still can't shake a sense of unease. He believes, truly, that the Exarch has no malicious intentions, but something about him, while comforting, still gives him a strange feeling in his gut.
Perhaps it's the way he seems to know too much, perhaps it's the way that despite willing to be intimate he won't even share his name or a glance of his face beyond the streak of crystal cradling his cheek. Perhaps it's the way that he feels so familiar but so foreign. Ultimately, what is Macchi'to to know?
"..Exarch," he starts, eliciting a small hm? from him. Macchi'to isn't good with words, this he knows, so he tries to put it as plain as he can; "I feel.. like- like yer hiding somethin' from me." His ears drop as the words leave his mouth, guilt pooling in his stomach. Maybe he was wrong to prod him, maybe he's ruining an otherwise pleasant moment. He doesn't mean to- he just wants to understand.
The Exarch says nothing for a moment, and all is silent besides the rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall of the inn room. A room bestowed to Macchi'to upon his arrival, and a room they have sat in together many times. "Well, of course I am." He sighs. "I truly am sorry, but you shall know all when the time is right. This, I swear." He hesitantly places an arm over Macchi'to, as if he's touching a fragile relic from long ago that someone like him shouldn't have the pleasure of even thinking of holding. That is what he is, right?
"Hmm.. 'kay." Maybe Macchi'to shouldn't have expected any different. Worth a go, he supposes. He leans further into the Exarch. "Hey, Exarch.. Did I ever tell ya, that- that ye remind me of someone..?"
"Hmmm.. You may have, once. What of them?"
"Nothin' much," he states, looking down at his feet, which are curled together at the edge of the bed. "I jus' think about 'im sometimes, I guess. Never knew what happened to him in tha end."
"I see," knowing he probably shouldn't ask, equally for his sake as Macchi'to's, he can't help but say it anyway. "What did happen?"
"Nnh, well. We were good friends- we didn' know each other long, don' get me wrong, but he was one of my first friends since I went n' travelled away t' Gridania - to become a lancer, y'know? - uh, anyway, he was pretty much the first, like, besides my party and some of tha Scions, 'course."
He's always been a rambler, not even a graceful one at that. He's not changed a bit since back then, 300 or so years ago.
"We talked a bunch.. 'bout growing up, about tha past n' future an' everything else. Did some combat trainin' together, he n' some of the others tried to teach me archery again. Was fun, but didn' go well—still never went all that well when Koneko n' I tried to do the same a bunch other times—anyways. I dunno. Someday he just left. Disappeared. Well, I can' say disappeared! I know where he went. Into that tower." Of course, the Exarch knew this story well. "I get why- I think. But, I don' know. Wish it didn't have t' be that way. I- I guess."
"I'm sorry, my friend. Sometimes things are just what they are. Do you think you'll ever see him again? I'm sure he'd be happy to know you were still thinking of him, after so long."
"Mm.. I dunno. Hope so." He sighs. It's gut wrenching, quite honestly, to have to hear him say all of this, knowing that the Exarch can't say much in return. Can't show that he's sorry, but it had to be done, can't really reassure him.
"Funnily enough, you remind me of an old friend too."
"Oh?"
"He was much like you—the adventurer type. Strong, brave, and most of all, warm. I admired him greatly—someone pure of heart and noble of cause. It was an honor to be by his side, even if just for a short while."
"That- I take it you haven't seen 'im, in a while, then.."
"I'm afraid not. I cannot say for sure where he is now, but he's out there doing his best. This I know," he hesitates, unsure if he's already opened up too much. "I.. do miss him. Rather terribly."
"Ahh.. I'm sorry, Exarch. We'll see 'em again someday - surely. We gotta."
"I do hope so, my friend. I would love to, even just one more time, accompany him.. on an adventure of sorts- He would make for an excellent travelling companion. It wounds me that we never did get around to such a thing."
"Well- er," Macchi'to offers, fiddling with the corner of a piece of his clothing. "I mean. I guess. If y'ever want someone to adventure with in tha meantime, I could- well. You can't leave the Tower much, I know, but. I'd be happy to. If you'd wanna."
Hearing him say that, so sincere yet so naïve, it hurt. If only he understood how much the Exarch hated the secrecy and the lies and the stringing along and all of it, everything. He was so close, yet so far. At the same time, perhaps his anonymity was a blessing. Would he have it in him to say these same things to Macchi'to as himself—as G'raha Tia, the man he himself had forgotten long ago and left in the past, even though Macchi'to had not?—He had tried to, many times, way back when they were just young and inexperienced members of NOAH trying to investigate a Tower. A Tower that would come to consume his very life. But his hero still remembers, after all this time. He never forgot him.
"Yes," someone who was once G'raha Tia eventually responds. "I would like that. I would like that very much."