#oc: udutai

[haurchefants]

|| ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜʙʙʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴀᴡꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴋ ᴏꜰ ʀᴀᴠᴇɴꜱ ᴄᴀᴄᴋʟɪɴɢ ɪ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍɪɢʜᴛʏ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪɴꜱᴜʟᴛꜱ ʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ||

[crystal-verse]

Day 10 - Stable

[this one got away from me a little bit, and is only tangentially related to the prompt, but have more of eighth umbral era g'raha]

"Are you quite sure that these schematics are stable?" Worries Raha, as he pokes at the schematics in question. They've made good progress on drafting up plans for the Tycoon -- their artificial god, their mechanized Alexander which makes use of Omega's rift-travelling capabilities and will be designed to run off of the Tower's aether -- but actually building the thing is an entirely other question.

"It'll be good enough." Assures Heimdall, flicking a long, nicked ear. The years have scarred the viera, not just physically but mentally, but the viera who once was Mitron, in a past life eons ago, is strong despite that. Because of that, even. ('Tis almost a shame that Heimdall is the only one left, of the once Scions of the Seventh Dawn, but -- he is a viera, with the lifespan implied, and Raha does not know if he took advantage of some Ascian trick to linger past his should-have-been-death. Nonetheless, Raha is ever grateful that Heimdall decided that he valued his current life over the memories of one eons ago.)

"Besides, we can always rework 'em." Adds Udutai -- whom Raha had only initially known as a stranger who impressed upon them the importance of conserving warmth. But it is warmer now, in what passes as summer in this new age, and it has been a year, and they are building.

"I'd prefer if we didn't have to spend more time than we need, reworking the schematics." Raha retorts, wincing as, in an attempt to lift some scrap and other parts, he makes some wrong motion, and his arms give a brief flare of pain. Tis not the worst pain they have felt, not a torn muscle nor a twisted joint, but it is a reminder that even now, after half a year, their body still is yet to return to the level of fitness, of muscle, that they had had before their deep, deep slumber. Perhaps it never will.

"Y'alright, Raha?" Calls Biggs, from somewhere behind them, and Raha can feel their ears press against their skull in embarassment. Shame, for all the good that that does him.

"Fine!" He calls back, carefully lowering the metal and other material. Someone else will have to move them -- as just now demonstrated, Raha is still not capable of such a task. "I merely overextended myself a bit, 'tis all. But I am fine, I assure you."

"Better not risk it." Udutai decides, and ambles over from his perch on some patch of wall that had remained in this space (in Revenant's Toll, changed as the now-fortress may be) to stand beside Raha. "Need me to carry you, or do you have strength enough to walk to your rooms yourself?"

Raha debates, but he knows the answer -- he simply doesn't want to admit it. "I am. . . getting to be quite fatigued." He says, after a few moments. "If you are willing to aid me, 'twould be appreciated."

"Of course, my friend." Udutai -- all of the Ironworks, really -- have been far kinder and patient than Raha had hoped for. When they had found him, weak and bleary and confused within the Syrcus Tower, they had simply lifted him up and took him with them, had explained everything that he had asked. When his weakness prevented him from moving much at all, for the first few days, they patiently took turns helping Raha eat, and move a little (very slowly, very gently), and simply. . . spent time with him. Even now, as Raha's weakness slowly disappears, and he begins to put proper weight on again, 'tis still remarkable that these people would have so much kindness and charity towards him, a veritable stranger -- especially in the world that has been born of the Eighth Umbral Calamity.

Raha is used to the sudden change in perspective that comes with being scooped up into another's arms -- oh, part of them chafes at it, but they have been slowly learning how to accept aid from others, how to set aside their pride for the sake of accepting the genuine, earnest care that others would give. Perhaps it will be some two hundred years more before Raha can truly do so -- but however long it takes, he will find a way to repay the Ironworks. (He will. If it is only with an unblemished world, with an Eorzea free of the Eiighth Umbral Calamity where the Scions of the Seventh Dawn live -- even if that is the only way he can repay these people, Raha swears to himself that somehow he will find his own way to make up for all the kindness they have freely given him. The love, of a community to one of her people.)

[haurchefants]

|| in the deep dark of night, ghosts, shadows appeared. ||

[haurchefants]

Udutai Ectorius and his children, Cotota and Oki.