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Unyah’zi was exhausted. Pain radiated from every inch of their body. Their head felt light while their chest felt uncomfortably heavy, and with the light inside of them gone they could feel how bitterly empty their stomach was. At some point they had lost their glasses in the fight as well, so everything around them had turned slightly blurry.
Yet they had just enough energy to move just a bit more.
“...Good morning, G’raha Tia.” Unyah’zi’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but the sudden shock on the other’s face told them they were heard loud and clear. They shuffled closer slowly, unsteady on their feet yet determined. Everything else felt distant. Unimportant. One of the Scions was definitely right by their side, the warmth of another body apparent as their own felt so cold, apprehensive of their waning balance.
He was surely no longer the G’raha they once knew. Yet, to them, he was no longer the Exarch they had come to know instead either. Someone in between two people they had loved. Entirely new and achingly familiar at the same time. Even with their unclear sight, their heart soared at those deep red eyes and that familiar braid that hung across his shoulder, even if greyed by time and muddied while in the depths of Amarout.
G’raha took a shuddering breath. He too could barely stand, still leaning almost all his weight on his staff. Both hands shook as he gripped it even tighter still, head twisted downwards as his eyes began to brim with tears. The blood that still pooled underneath their feet could not be washed away with tears. He cried anyway. Unyah’zi felt their own eyes start to burn.
“‘Tis good to be awake.” G’raha choked out, words punctuated with muted gasps as he did his best to keep his breath steady. He looked so small now, nothing like the intimidating figure Unyah’zi had come to associate with the Exarch this past year. Hunched over and vulnerable as the light behind him was strong enough to wash him out completely had it wanted to.
Here they would meet him on equal ground. Unyah’zi roughly rubbed their eyes, needing the best sight they could manage as they moved forward.
It was, ultimately, a dumb and instinctive decision. Both of them were hurt severely. Unyah’zi was definitely still bleeding in more than a few of their wounds. No doubt both of them were unbearably sweaty and in need of a good bath. But the urge to curl up around him and dig into his very being caused their blood to rush to their head and all little remaining intelligent thought left them.
Their bow clattered to the ground in an instant, feet almost tripping on air as they closed the gap in front of them. It’s only a few fulms. Yet it felt like malms. A stretch that was traversed in an instance, if that instance had lasted centuries. There was more than one shout of concern, and a rough hand tried to grab onto their cloak, but the attempt was too slow.
Unyah’zi threw their whole body weight onto G’raha, wincing at the sharp pain upon impact. G’raha himself made no effort to move or stop them, arms wrapping around them out of instinct, the inevitable fall softened. The Seeker let out a rather shrill yelp of pain as they fell to the ground. Stars filled Unyah’zi’s eyes at the impact but tears soon replaced them as they buried their face in his shoulder.
“You’re so stupid!” Unyah’zi sunk their claws into his robes, uncaring as they were already in tatters, desperate to feel the pulse that beat underneath his skin, “I hate you. I hate you!”
G’raha’s arms tightened around them, silent save for his own continued weeping.
“If I– If we, if that damned Ascian–” Unyah’zi sobbed, throat painfully tight, stealing the very words from their lips before they could even be formed, “Raha. I missed you so dearly.”
“I’m sorry.” He said. They both knew that at that moment it was nothing more than a platitude, words spoken when there was nothing else to be said. There was no need to ask if he had missed them as well. The words he spoke to them mere days ago hung heavy in their chest. Still, G’raha whispered apologies over and over like a prayer, uncaring of their continued audience.
“You better not leave me again,” Unyah’zi settled ever so slightly, as the last dregs of energy had begun to wane, “I’ll hate you even more. I’ll kill you.”
Their eyes burned and his body’s warmth was even more scalding when they pressed their face into his chest. It only took mere seconds for their breathing to even out. He was safe. They were safe. Emet-Selch was gone and so too was the disaster he tried to bring. G’raha was alive and the Scions were alive and Unyah’zi was—
…
“Passed out, huh?” The first to finally cut through their isolation was Thancred, a sigh heaved from his own weary chest. He crouched down next to two of them, calloused hands brushed aside Unyah’zi’s bangs to affirm that their eyes were fastly shut. “I’m not surprised after that little show.”
“Gods, we still have to get all the way back to shore too, don’t we?” Alisaie also leaned over them, face twisted in annoyance, “I would be upset at the dead weight, but…”
Her gaze wavered as she looked down at Unyah’zi, tears refusing to dry even as they slipped further into fitful sleep. Alisaie’s feelings on the matter were clear, and a small wave of understanding rippled through the rest of the group as well.
“Well, I suppose I can count rescuing Urianger as practice,” Thancred quipped, hands wrapped around Unyah’zi’s waist as he pulled them off of G’raha. It was a short lived battle, but a battle all the same, as Unyah’zi struggled against his grasp in their sleep. “Come now. You’re so stubbornly difficult even when you’re asleep.”
He eventually managed, hoisting them up as carefully as he could despite the soreness of his own muscles. His lips twitched into a smile when Unyah’zi finally gave in and relaxed once more.
“Do you need any help?” Alphinaud watched them apprehensively, hand hovering near his tome, even as his aether reserves ran dry.
“What, do you expect you’ll be able to carry them while doggy paddling?” Alisaie roughly shoved him, skipping ahead of Thancred.
“I – I merely meant to offer healing!” Alphinaud’s voice squeaked, breaking mid sentence as a blush settled on his face.
“That’s quite enough, you two. This is no place to start an argument,” Y’shtola shook her head, a glare stern enough for both of the twins to clamp their mouths shut. She offered a relatively less harsh gaze to G’raha, watching as he finally stood back onto shaky feet, “Exarch, do you require assistance?”
G’raha shook his head, righting his robes the best he could despite the state of them. “I… should be able to manage.”
He only managed a step or two before he fumbled, barely catching himself on his staff.
“Ah. Perhaps, a moment if you could,” He gasped, bent forward in mild pain, “I have been away from the tower for far too long, and expended much of my aether.”
Embarrassment burned in his chest, a trivial emotion brought on by the reminder that he had just but recently rushed into battle with all the arrogance he had thought he left behind centuries ago. The image of the strong and unwavering Exarch is no doubt damaged beyond repair. Even if he had managed to show up in time, his current state was rather uninspiring.
“Unyah was right. You are stupid,” Alisaie groaned before abruptly pulling him against her shoulders, “I’m not carrying you, but I’m not letting you die on the way back because you can’t stay upright either.”
“You really don’t have to.” G’raha tried to jerk away, but her grip was iron tight. Her stormy expression sent his mind spiraling.
“Oh, but I do. You see, we’ll have a long walk back. Perfect for a conversation,” She smiled, all teeth as she pulled him against her even tighter, “Don’t you think so, ‘Raha’?”
His ears pinned back against his head, already sensing that he was in for a long lecture. He knew he deserved it, and saw little point in trying to avoid it. It would happen either way. Certainly more than once, and from more than just Alisaie. Perhaps her exhaustion would at least soften the blow, for now. G’raha’s shoulders slumped in resignation.
“I suppose so…” He sighed and gave up on his struggle. At least the chance of physicality with her scolding was far, far less likely this time. Even as she let the Miqo’te lean on her, his eyes could see how her own shoulders quivered. There’s a prickling sense of shame at the sight that he tried his best to push away. Unproductive.
“I have no doubt you’ll be quite due for plenty of conversations later as well.” Y’sthola smiled cryptically, hand and staff motioned towards them as a rush of healing magicks settled onto the both of them. G’raha still felt unbearably sore, but the pain did ease. Alisaie sighed with relief at the feeling.
“Nor shall you be the only one.” Y’sthola snickered, eyes on Urianger and delighting at the look of resigned fear upon his face. G’raha had almost forgotten he was here, hovering at the edge of the group, uncertain.
“Indeed.” Urianger mumbled, for once seeming to lack the words the usually long-winded Elezen carried. G’raha felt no small amount of guilt for his part in dragging him into his scheme, but it is hard to feel too much pity for someone when you are both meant for the same gallows. Even if the gallows were likely to be weeks of scolding and months of rebuilding trust.
Urianger also lends a bit of his own healing magic, this time to Unyah’zi and Thancred as the latter started to move forward carefully. The two shared a look indecipherable to the others in its exact feeling, but it was not hard to guess who was first in line to scold Urianger. Or second, for that matter, as Y’sthola’s snickering only stopped as she moved to follow behind Thancred.
Despite how deep underwater they must’ve been, warm rays of sunlight flickered upon G’raha’s face when he looked upwards. Alisaie began to hobble them forward with unexpected care. He couldn’t resist briefly closing his eyes and feeling the warmth of daylight he never expected to relish once more.
It was going to be a rather long day.