#Hydaelyn knows about all the timelines and hops around looking for the WoL that came to her in Elpis

[asteriasfallingstarsandtears]

A very rough piece of when Graha left the 8th Calamity Timeline and brought himself and the Tower to the First and a chance meeting between worlds. I've taken some liberties and this is just a first draft.

Lost in the Sea

2427 words

G'raha x WoL references, Azemet references

G'raha, Hydaelyn, referenced named WoL, referenced Hades(Emet-Selch)

CW: Black Rose death, grief, threats of harm

It had worked, in a sense. G'raha Tia couldn't deny that the Tower and him had left the Source, the world he had been born in. The Tycoon had been a superb creation, the last invention of Cid and Nero before their passing, and realised by Bigg’s descendant. The Tower had also been fantastic, he was fairly certain that the fact he and it hadn't been completely destroyed was because it had formed a stasis around itself again.

The royal lineage and the Tower just survive above all. There were no more heirs. 

Just G'raha, and the Tower, and they were both trapped horribly in the Aetherial Sea.

It should have worked, there shouldn't have been this stop, the Rift and the Sea were so entwined, to go through one was to risk the other. 

And so, he sat at the door, horribly locked against everyone (and him) once more. Only this time he hadn't done it.

He slammed his fist against his leg, cursing himself. It was too much, he was the thinnest of Allag's bloodline left, and while the Tower listened to him, he didn't have the power to supplement it. He had been the weak point in this whole affair, centuries of work and effort, and he had failed before even starting.

There was a knock at the door and he frowned, believing it his imagination.

Another. “What in the world?”

He stood and laid his hand against the door, ordering it to open with a force of incredible will. If he was going mad, then let the Sea take him, he wouldn't be able to do the job anyway.

The doors slowly slid open and revealed a tall pale woman clothed in brilliant white robes. He stared up at her in disbelief, having to crane his head up considerably to meet her gaze. Had he ever seen anyone this tall before? She towered over even the tallest people he had known, making Biggs and Nero look like they were his height and he looked absolutely tiny compared to her.

What did one say to what must be an avatar of death or the delusion of his failing mind? Hello? What did it matter, he had clearly lost his mind and the Sea would claim him soon. 

“Hello, I'd offer to let you in, but it's rather a mess inside.” Her face shifts from placid peacefulness to full mirth, laughing boisterously as though he had said the most clever of jests. He stared at her, utterly perplexed at whatever his mind had conjured in these final moments. “If you don't mind, you're welcome inside, I guess?”

Her laughter quieted down into a giggle before she collected herself and stepped within the Tower’s bounds. She looked around as though she was someone who had been here before and was reacquainting herself with it. He supposed if she was some sort of guide to the afterlife it was possible she had, many people had died in the Tower when Allag fell. 

“I hope you don't find me terribly rude.” He began, trying to catch her attention. “But can I ask what you're doing here? I know what I'm doing here, but I don't know how anyone else can survive out there. And who are you?”

She stood there as though she hadn't heard him and then gave herself a little shake before turning back to him. “Forgive me, I was remembering someone I once knew. She lived in this Tower and died here, but I was here to catch her before she was lost, thankfully.”

“Uh…” This was a bizarre conversation and he felt completely out of sorts, as though he was supposed to know what she talked about but didn't. “I don't think anyone has died here since we opened the Tower the first time, and before that it would have been millenia. I'm sorry for your loss?” 

She smiled sadly. “It was, but that was then, and she has been lost for good this time.” Her face hardened as she looked at him and then knelt down so her face was on his level. He started at the irritation and anger on her face and the glowing prismatic blue eyes she had. He had seen those twice before, different colours, but so similar. He became very afraid, this woman had to be an Ascian. “And I have you to thank for that, G'raha Tia, heir of Allag.”

He swallowed heavily, not sure what to say. Had they learned of their plan to save the Warrior of Light? To stop the Calamity before it started? To undo the tragedy written in the Star? Would she destroy him and the Tower?

“Now tell me, little one, why I shouldn't throw you out of this Tower and condemn your soul to the deepest pits of the Underworld for your transgressions?” She seemed to grow bigger in front of him, or he grew smaller, a child being chastened. He knew who she spoke of, Azemya preserve him, she was talking about the very person he was trying to save, to unwrite her death and subsequent fall from Light from history's uncaring pages.

He briefly saw a flash of the last moment he saw her, horrible gurgles in her chest as she coughed up dark congealed blood and poisonous gas. The death she had been denied two centuries before by the man she had called Hades catching up with her in his darkest moment.

The moment he had failed Hades’ test, when he had looked back when he was told not to. He was told to not look until they had both left the city. He should have trusted her to tell him when she was safe, but he had been so excited, so relieved to have righted this wrong that he had believed whoever had tapped him on the shoulder and said she was there.

He had looked behind him.

She was still within the old gate of Garlemald city, the last barrier to cross.

And she had died 

Horribly.

He knelt down before her, pressing his head down against the cold stone flooring of the Tower.

“I don't deserve your mercy, only that I am trying to fix what I broke.” His voice is small, cracking with grief as he watched her die over and over in his mind. The guilt that had eaten him for two full years since that day, since he had buried himself in his work with Biggs and readied himself for his own sacrifice. “Please, I deserve to die, but I need to continue.”

The woman's face peers at him for horrible long seconds before it softens and she pats his head gently. “She told me she trusted you and what you planned, and so will I.”

“How do you…? How did she…?” He didn't know what to say, Mina had died in the ruins of Garlemald that Hades had made his own well before G'raha had returned to the Tower and learned of the time travel plan from Biggs. “But she's dead, she can't have known. I didn't know.”

She tilts her head curiously. “Is she? Lost, certainly, but none of us ever truly die. Even your own soul, were you to rejoin the Sea now, it would merely rest and remake itself in preparation of rebirth. But our souls, those who are beyond the cycle of death, we do not end so easily. There are certain souls who do not return to the Sea if they do not wish them to, and now, hers is likewise removed from the cycle of life and death.”

His heart sank. What he had done has irrevocably destroyed her chances of rebirth? 

“I'm trying to prevent it from happening.” He whispered, his heart being ground into even finer shards as he imagined the torment her soul must be in. “I couldn't stop it there, but I can try and stop it from ever happening in any world, in any timeline.”

“Of course you are, she told me you would, so I waited and watched, wondering if it would be this time or next time. Normally by now I would have given up on a timeline but this time…” she paused, looking him over thoughtfully. “This time, I'm glad I waited. The pieces were right, the Eighth Calamity had occurred, the Crystal Tower was occupied, Hades had captured her soul. I knew it had to be this time, it had to be the timeline she told me of.” She shook her head. “I would that I could have reached out to her, but Hades was too thorough in trapping her and breaking our bond.”

“Your bond?” His mind raced, trying to remember who she had a bond with. A horrible idea crossed his mind, but surely not. She didn't look like a Goddess, like he had always imagined one to look, or like the artwork of all Gods and Goddesses he had ever seen. 

The corner of her lips twitch in amusement and he peers closer at her. He cannot deny she appears as a woman, a very, very tall woman, but a woman nonetheless, as though someone had taken the template or a hyur and made it very, very large. 

But she had the same kind of eyes as Hades did and as Mina’s eyes had been turning into. 

What did it mean? Why did she have the same features as the Ascians he had come to know?

“Do you know who I am yet?” She asked gently.

“I don't know how it's possible.” 

Her form flickered, the woman turning into something larger and more impressive. He had the hazy vision of flowing lines of fabric, hair and crystalline wings before she resumed the form she had first appeared as. 

“This is really quite ingenious, the others don't give you enough credit. They never did, for all you carry the spark of what we were, and the ability to grow beyond us, but they only see you as broken and dull.” She looks around, shaking her head sadly. “I'll say that Hades did create something beautiful, he was always good at making such things. A shame that he turned it to such destructive purposes. If he had only worked with you mortals for good…” 

She turned back to him. “I am Hydaelyn, G'raha Tia, though I come to you as I once was.” She laid a hand on his head and he felt healing warmth and light spread through him, imbuing him with hope and purpose. “I said I wouldn't interfere, but it is imperative you complete your task, and I wished to meet you, to help you, to guide you to the First Reflection where the fate of your world will be determined. If you can succeed there, I will know mankind is ready, and in being ready, the Star will be saved.”

“It seems so hopeless here. I'm trapped, I failed to bring the Tower through the Rift to the First.” 

She laughs again, mirthful once more. “Only because I asked the Tower to wait.”

“You did what?” It had worked? He hadn’t failed, Hydaelyn herself had reached out from the Aetherial Sea and plucked him and it from their travels. “But why?”

“I wanted to know the one she spoke of.” She smiled. “I recognized your soul, you know, I may not have Hades’ eyes, but after so many long eons in the Sea, I have come to recognize those who resonate most with hers in every lifetime.”

His eyes widened in shock. “Then the scholars are right, we reincarnate?”

“In a sense. Whatever form you wear, you are as you were once, but that is a story for another day.” She peered back out the open door and gave a soft sigh. “My time is nearing, I will need to abandon this timeline now, and I will follow you to the next.”

“What?” 

She smiled and patted his head soothingly. “Worry not, the people here are not abandoned, I have left contingency plans in every one I have left. The next one must succeed, G’raha Tia, or else there will be no more.”

“I don’t even know where to start.” The task had been daunting enough, but to know this might be the last time he could ever try? The weight of responsibility was crushing. If he failed here, would it mean the end to those he had left behind? “She may not even know me in this one, how can I get her to trust me?”

“The only certainty I can give is that you will know what to do, even bereft of the memories of this meeting.” A gentle warmth began to spread through him and he felt as though he was slowly drifting off to sleep. “I’m sorry, I cannot risk Hades knowing that I have a hand in this. You will have a very long century ahead of you sweet boy, in which you will fight with everything you have.” A pause as he slumped to the ground, eyes struggling to remain open. “You will believe you passed out during the spell but it will be successful and you will be on the First where you will gather the survivors. Do not give up, no matter how terrible it seems.”

When he woke he hissed as pervasive light struck his eyes from the open door of the Tower. He had the feeling he was forgetting something but he couldn’t remember what as he stood, stumbling towards the foreign world outside of the Tower. He shaded his eyes as he gazed outwards, marvelling at the strange scene before him.

“Purple trees aren't what I expected.” He chuckled, laying a hand against the Tower. “Thank you, we made it.” There was a gathering crowd of people outside the Tower who stared at him and it in apprehension. “Hello! I’ve come from far away, can anyone tell me what has happened?”

And so began his journey as what the people came to call the Crystal Exarch. A long, lonely journey of a hundred years in which he and the Tower fought to survive in the barren aether of this Reflection. He met friends and companions over the years, withdrawing further and further into himself as he bound his body and soul closer to the Tower.

Until finally, it was almost time, the two worlds slowly coming together to match once more, when the conditions were right for the Reflection to rejoin… or heal.

And he intended to heal it.