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i.
one slow day in sharlayan, viego picks up a bow and a violin. raha eyes it with curiosity, yet thinks nothing on it, burying himself back in paperwork. that is, until he hears the melody.
something suddenly clicks into place. those long days and starless nights, he tried so hard to make sense of it and failed. miserably failed.
struggling to keep his composure, he asks viego what he just played.
"hm? an old dravanian song my parents taught me. not quite right, though..." he says, continuing to tune the strings.
g'raha tia hears a tear fall down onto paper.
ii.
opening his eyes in the tower, he wasn't sure what he would find. most likely, though, intruders: after all, he was the main emergency mechanism, and it was his duty to prevent misuse of allagan power.
so, with a staff in hand, he headed to the gate. smashed it open, hoping that would scare briands away.
how surprised he was, instead, to find biggs along with cid's engineers. smile on his face, he moved to greet them, yet before he could-
a shrill note hung in the air.
biggs furrowed his brow. the next moment, an arrow came at him.
iii.
hours later, in the middle of silvertear, he was healing one of the engineers. the tower back on lock, he helped fight off the attack — with notable ease, in fact, as he seemed the most battle-ready of them all.
one look at the world outside seemed to suggest the reason why.
keen hearing, he picked up on biggs' voice, half tired and half annoyed, speaking with one of his assistants:
"gods damn the wraith's machinations. had we been just a minute too late..."
the wraith, he noted, to ask later. many wounds to mend and lessons to learn long before.
iv.
their next encounter happened in ishgard.
the city burned as the sun shone above and shouts echoed throughout the streets. worst of all, however, was the ul'dahn march booming from the firmament, unabated no matter where in the city they went.
how wrong it was, he thought as he ran, to witness such a gentle instrument used for this purpose. how wrong it was, he thought, to bring more ruin to the city he longed to see shine. how wrong it was to give up on it all.
how wrong it felt to come to acceptance. how criminally, utterly wrong.
v.
that night in the ruins of riversmeet, the silence felt deafening, yet welcome.
he should have been sleeping, and by all accounts he was, owing to the great effort he put into seeming thus. in reality, he was out in the snow, studying the area he wouldn't return to again.
he hears a pluck oh the strings. immediately summons his sword and shield.
"show yourself!" he shouted. but no one came.
instead, a quiet song rose over the snowy plains. a beautiful, fragile melody in contrast to everything he learned.
inside he knew, it was for him and him alone.
vi.
for all his honesty he offered the ironworks, he never spoke of that night. neither did he speak of the nights that came after, all those times he walked out of the room berating the cold and mourning lost sleep. he knew at least some were suspicious, or even knew of his nightly escapades, yet would do nothing.
so he turned to what he did best — study. identifying song from paper wasn't an easy task, yet one thing was certain.
ul'dah. ala mhigo. vylbrand. dravania. by then he had heard them all and knew the difference.
so did the wraith.
vii.
"i'll tell you what i know, though it ain't much," biggs shrugged. "the wraith is an old story, born of the calamity: folks all over heard the strings when all came crashing down. like a messenger of the apocalypse, of sorts."
he gave a curt nod, adding pieces to the puzzle with every word.
"that said, though, only we've been hearing it since. and each time an attack followed. back then cid said it was likely a fake coordinating his forces, with a target on us and our knowledge. told to heed it as warning."
"so have we done since."
viii.
for all he knew, that was false, and he had a feeling cid knew it too. and yet, to keep the truth from his closest confidants, was a choice he wouldn't make lightly.
it is a truth cid had chosen to take to his grave, for one reason or another. none of the notes he left after himself contained an inkling of what he truly knew, beyond the incessant reminders to train one's hearing and draw weapons at a moment's notice.
"heed it as a warning," it said, over and over.
heed it as a warning for centuries to come.
ix.
he wished for more time. for this mystery and many others following his every step.
none was there.
he knew the wraith never followed them to the heart of the silvertear, and yet the night before leaving the the tower, he snuck away from the campfire, in hopes for a meeting.
long did he wait at the shore. and then, a thin tone, intended for his ears.
"you've kept watch over us all this time," he whispered to the silence around. "and yet, i wonder, who bid you this cruel duty?"
a brush of the wind was his only answer.
x.
the first was as bright as it was threatening. with the remains of his strength, drained by the travel, he dragged himself to his feet, to do one last thing before collapsing of exhaustion.
the tower tore through the skyline in a glistening blue.
it was then that he heard it. the lonely strings and a tired voice deep in his soul.
"my duty is done, and i am free to return to the mother. i only pray that yours doesn't take as long."
he wanted to shout, wait, but his voice — then his mind gave out before he could.
xi.
"May it serve as an undying promise, not only to those who looked to me for leadership, but to any soul who has known despair, that hope is everlasting."
his memories preserved, his body turned to crystal. yet, his soul lingered, if only for a moment.
was it as long as your silent vigil, friend of mine? no matter, it is done, the exarch thought, in the last of his moments. i can only hope it was all you fought to achieve.
they can bear the torch for us, viego, young me. but our time is done. until we meet.
xii.
"raha. raha, are you okay?"
g'raha came to viego kneeling before him, tears streaming down his face. the instrument left precariously on the edge of the chair.
viego took his hand. "will you tell me what happened?"
using the other to brush away the tears, he gave a short nod.
"i'm fine. you but reminded me of a long-lost friend."
the warm smile he received in return was worth all the painful memories. "would you tell me about them?"
"if you play me more, yes, love," he smiled back. "although you know him better than any of us ever could."