Sometimes the cheering laughter of the Crystarium Citizens came up to his open window at night. Their Exarch was back, the nightsky still such a beautiful and mesmerizing sight. Khian’to knew that they earned and deserved their happiness… and that he should be part of it.

Alisaie had brought him cookies from the Kids yesterday as she sat by him on the low windowsill in the dark room and told him that the others were a bit worried about him. Especially the Exarch. That their Warrior of Light preferred to isolate himself was new for the Scions, but what was not new these days? Hydaelyn was a primal. He had almost turned into a Sin Eater.

Khian’to still dreamed about the Light, the Pain, the „What-Ifs“. Every day. Cause that was when he slept now. During the day, when everything was still too bright, too painful for his eyes that were still spotted with residues of the light’s corruption. Corrupted. That’s how he still felt with the slightest bright light around him. What a real Mooncat he had become since their return from The Tempest.

He knew the Exarch – no, G’raha Tia – wanted to speak desperately with him. Possibly to apologize, but Khian’to never felt quite ready, neither for praising words nor for apologies. And if he was honest with himself, he also pushed the meeting back, because he didn’t know what seeing G’raha‘s face again would stir up inside him. The thought of losing him to Emet-Selch had him furious and desperate for days. The image of him being tortured touched parts of Khian’to‘s heart that still hurt. His own attachment to that former hooded, mysterious Man still confused the Keeper and now that things had quieted down, he couldn’t ignore his feelings and doubts forever.

So he had told Alisaie yesterday that G’raha Tia was invited to the pendants.

It was a lovely, quiet night, as Khian’to sat there again on the low windowsill, shutters open wide to let in the silvery moonlight and the muffled voices of the citizens. He heard the door open and briefly closed his eyes against the incoming warm light from the hallway, his low ears still too exhausted to twitch towards the following door closing sound and slow steps.

„Good evening, Khian’to.“ Came the soft greeting from the other Miqo’te as he drew nearer and the addressed Keeper looked up to him. Khian’to’s response was slow nod. He was shortly startled of himself by that. No smile, no wink, no flirty response. By Oschon, get yourself together, he thought to himself. But the moment was gone and G’raha had the same startling thought, sending a short sting to his heart.

G’raha Tia had long thought about this meeting, about his words. He knew he had burdened the Warrior of Light with much suffering, knowing full well the tragic end it could have taken. Everything for the plan to rescue him and his future and to make the final sacrifice. How easy G‘raha had thought it would be. To take the corruption for himself and just leave this world behind. With all his Devotion, with all his Love he had planted here.

Now that he was still here, he had to confront himself with what he had done. With what he had planned to do. All this and more he confessed to the Warrior before him, because he felt that he owed him that. He could somehow live with the thought that Khian’to would now forever keep his distance towards him. But he could not live with anything left unspoken.

The Keeper listened to him calmly, his sunken shoulders and ears speaking of his need to recover still. How much G’raha wanted to hold that shoulders, touch those ears, like he had seen Alisaie playfully do when she had laughed with his comrade. Maybe one day. Now he just stood there, the air between them like an invisible wall that told them both ‘I can’t let you come closer now’.

Every word reached Khian’to true and deep, and he felt truly sorry for not finding any replies and just sitting there with light corrupted eyes focused on the man in front of him. He listened to all the “Sorry”s, the “Thank you”s, the “I hope”s.

As G’raha whispered his last words, silence fell shortly in the moonlit room. The Exarch waited for a response to his little speech. Anything that told him he was understood… maybe forgiven even, if he dared hope so far.

Khian’to dropped his gaze to the crystalized right arm of the Seeker. He found a spark of his curiosity return, which he claimed as a good sign. He had never asked the Exarch how he felt through his crystalized parts. If he even does. If it hurts. He felt that it was not the right time to ask him that now… but someday. Soon. He wanted to ask him so much. To know him. To see what the warmth in his eyes meant. He made his decision.

The blackhaired Miqo’te leaned slowly forward, left hand reaching out towards G’raha’s right. Gently he took the crystalized fingers in his and pulled the other man towards him, until Khian’to could place the unfamiliar palm on his left cheek and hold it there. The Silence was still heavy, but to G’raha Tia it was as if its weight felt different. The gesture let his heart soar ever so carefully with hope. Khian’to’s eyes closed for some seconds and the usually so proud Dancer looked small and lost as he testingly tilted his head slightly towards the hand he softly pressed to his cheek. Although the real feeling of the touch was robbed from G’raha Tia, he suppressed the urge to just lay his other hand on Khian’to’s face, too. Now was not the time to share the sorrow his binding to the tower brought and this situation was precious enough.

Khian’to heard G’raha’s nervousness in his breaths, his fingers shivering ever so softly like the wings of a butterfly on his cheek and it gave him a spark of his former attitude back that wanted to let a grin form on his lips but at the same time he felt… shy. Careful. What had this robed Man just done to him? He opened his eyes again to look up into the Rubys, only softly illuminated by the incoming moonlight. They looked beautiful.

“I forgive you, G’raha Tia. Today we start anew.”