Part V: Towards her own future
After being drawn into the battle against Zenos and the Telophoroi, Baal felt a fleeting sense of relief, as though the nightmares that had defined her creation had finally been silenced. Yet that peace was fragile. Even in rest, a low, persistent unease tugged at her, and fragments of memories, faces she had never known, places she had never visited, and moments that seemed both real and impossible, continued to surface each night, leaving her restless and confused.The Scions, recognizing her extraordinary abilities and potential, formally welcomed her as one of their own. Though Baal could not fully grasp concepts like friendship, loyalty, or love, she instinctively sensed the safety and guidance their presence offered. Each day, they gently introduced her to the wider world: its colors, sounds, and the subtle, quiet moments that made life worth noticing. They showed her how to laugh, how to share, and how to be present in ways that had never been part of her creation in Garlemald.Among the Scions, Y’shtola became Baal’s closest companion. They spent long hours together in Sharlayan’s great library, poring over dusty tomes and ancient scrolls, Y’shtola’s turquoise eyes lighting up with curiosity as Baal asked endless questions about the world. The rhythm of their days became a quiet comfort, even as the memories of her original self continued to press against the edges of her mind, pulling her thoughts in directions she could neither name nor fully understand.One evening, Baal finally spoke, her voice quiet and uncertain, carrying the weight of her confusion. “Hey, Y’shtola… would it be alright if I returned home for a few days? I need to look into something personal. I know I promised to help with the research on traveling between the shards, but… these memories…” She hesitated, searching for words that might make sense. “They feel like they belong to someone else, yet they are mine. I think if I go back to where the original Baal lived, I might find a key to why they haunt me.”Y’shtola looked up from the tome she had been reading, her turquoise eyes softening with concern and curiosity. A small smile touched her lips. “Baal, you are free to follow whatever your heart guides you toward. I can come with you, if you’d like.”Baal paused, a subtle warmth rising in her chest that she could not identify. She shook her head gently, managing a small, uncertain smile. “No… I need to take this step alone. But thank you.”Y’shtola’s expression shifted to one of gentle concern. “I understand… but please, take a linkpearl. If you need anything, I will respond immediately.”Baal nodded, then stepped forward, hesitating for a moment before wrapping Y’shtola in a brief, tentative hug. It was a gesture she did not fully understand herself, a mix of gratitude, trust, and a faint curiosity at the strange flutter she felt in her chest. Y’shtola’s hand rested lightly on her back, and for a heartbeat, their eyes met. There was something unspoken in the turquoise gaze: a pull, a fascination, a connection Y’shtola could not yet name.Baal pulled back and whispered, “Thank you.”As she left the library and made her way to the airship bound for Garlemald, Baal felt the tug of those unfamiliar memories, the weight of questions she could not yet answer, and the strange warmth in her chest that she could not name. Y’shtola’s presence lingered in her mind, not as an emotion she understood, but as a quiet tether, a guiding light, something both foreign and compelling.And though she did not yet know what love was, or if such a thing could exist for her, Baal sensed, deep within her heart, that the connection she was forming with Y’shtola would shape the person she was becoming.The airship hummed steadily as it cut through the skies above Garlemald. Baal stood at the railing, gazing out over the land below, her thoughts a tangle of memories, questions, and unnameable feelings. Every now and then, her mind flickered to Y’shtola, her calm voice, the warmth in her turquoise eyes, the way she had stayed by her side in the library without judgment. Baal didn’t know what to call the pull she felt toward the Miqo’te, only that it stirred something unfamiliar inside her chest.When the ship landed, she moved through the familiar streets of her homeland with a strange mixture of detachment and curiosity. Every corner, every stone, every faint trace of her original life tugged at her memories. Faces she had never truly known hovered at the edges of her mind, and yet they were vivid, full of emotions she couldn’t name, fears she couldn’t fully recall, and fleeting warmth that made her stomach tighten in ways she did not understand.
Baal moved slowly through the ruins of Lapis Manalis, each step stirring the dust of a life she could barely call her own. The wind whispered through the crumbling stone, carrying the faint scent of earth and memory, and Baal found herself muttering under her breath, as if speaking aloud might make sense of the turmoil in her mind.“Every step I take… has been walked by you. Every memory I remember… is yours,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “Am I meant to be another you? Is there a place for a clone of you to exist as herself?”She paused at the remains of a shattered wall, staring at the way the sunlight cut through the cracks. The ruins felt both familiar and alien, a place where echoes of the original Baal lingered yet could never truly belong to her. The memories she carried—faces she had never known, events she should not have witnessed—swirled together in her mind. Sometimes they were vivid, sometimes fleeting, but always they left a hollow ache she could not explain.Her thoughts wandered to Y’shtola. She imagined the Miqo’te’s turquoise eyes scanning the ruins with quiet understanding, the way she would crouch to examine a fallen stone or trace a forgotten inscription. A warmth stirred in Baal’s chest, one she had never felt before—a strange, gentle tether to someone else. She didn’t know what it meant, could not name it, but she found herself wondering what Y’shtola would do, what she would say, and whether she would understand the jumble of memories and emotions that made Baal feel… unsettled, and yet alive.She knelt by a shattered fountain, brushing her fingers across the cracked stone. “Every path I take… you are there, even if only for a moment…” Her voice was soft, almost reverent, carrying a weight she could not articulate. She didn’t fully understand herself—her feelings, her thoughts, the strange flutter in her chest whenever she imagined Y’shtola—but she knew the presence lingered in her mind like a quiet compass, guiding her steps through the ruins and through the unknown parts of herself.Baal rose, glancing again toward the distant horizon, imagining Y’shtola walking beside her. The idea felt both comforting and confusing. She didn’t know what love was, didn’t know how to call what she felt anything more than curiosity and gratitude, yet it settled deep within her like a seed she could not ignore. For the first time in a long while, Baal felt something resembling hope—hope that perhaps, in this world, even a clone could carve a place for herself, and perhaps even understand the strange, unnameable feelings growing quietly alongside her.With a final glance at the ruins, Baal turned and continued her journey, each step a mixture of uncertainty, discovery, and the faint, persistent thought of the turquoise eyes that had already begun to shape the path of her heart.
Baal wandered further into the ruins of Lapis Manalis, the crumbling stones and empty courtyards pressing down on her like a weight she could not name. Her footsteps faltered as she spoke under her breath, the words trembling with a mix of panic and disbelief.“I… I am not you… Your pleasant memories… the laughter, the warmth… they’re not mine. I shouldn’t remember things I was never there to see or experience. Your happiness, your sadness, your anger… they don’t belong to me… so why do I remember them?”She sank to the ground by a shattered fountain, brushing her fingers across the cracked stone as though it might anchor her to something real. Her chest tightened in a way she could not explain, the memories flooding through her like waves—faces she had never met, voices she had never heard, moments she had never lived. And yet, they were hers. Or perhaps, not hers at all. The distinction eluded her, leaving a hollow ache that she could neither name nor soothe.Her thoughts, as they often did now, drifted to Y’shtola. The memory of the Miqo’te’s turquoise eyes, their depth, their patience, the warmth behind them, stirred something in Baal’s chest she did not understand. She did not know what it was, could not name it, but the idea of Y’shtola beside her now felt comforting. It was a tether she did not fully comprehend, a thread of familiarity and care in the chaos of foreign memories.Baal pressed her hands to her temples, trying to push the surge of recollections away, but they pressed on, insistent and vivid. “Why do I feel this… this pull?” she whispered to herself. “Why does my chest tighten at the thought of someone I do not fully understand?”The ruins around her were silent, yet alive with echoes of the past, and Baal realized something unsettling. She was alone, yet not entirely. Each fragment of memory, each echo of the original Baal, left its mark, but it was Y’shtola’s presence, even in absent thought, that grounded her. She didn’t know why, only that it did.Slowly, carefully, she rose to her feet, brushing the dust from her sleeves. Her steps were steadier now, though her mind was far from calm. She still could not name her feelings, could not understand the warmth in her chest when she imagined Y’shtola smiling at her, or the flutter when their hands had brushed in the library. But she knew one thing: the Miqo’te had become a constant in her thoughts, a quiet guide in the tangled maze of her memories and her identity.Baal took a deep breath, letting the wind whip through the broken courtyard. She did not yet know what these feelings were, or what they might become. Love, trust, affection—these were concepts she had never learned, never experienced. But she was beginning to sense their shapes, faint and fragile, like the first shoots of a plant breaking through stone.And for the first time in a long while, Baal felt something new: not control, not certainty, not power, but a quiet, tethered hope that perhaps, in this world, she could begin to understand herself, her memories, and the strange, unnameable pull toward the turquoise-eyed woman who had quietly claimed a place in her heart.
Baal sank against the crumbling wall of the ruined building, her body trembling from exhaustion and her mind a storm of memories that were not fully hers. Her fingers clutched at her chest as if trying to hold herself together, but the flood of borrowed emotions, the laughter, the pain, the joy, the sorrow, overwhelmed her. She didn’t know who she was, didn’t know what she was meant to be, and the weight of it pressed down like the ruins themselves.Then, a soft light filled the space, warm and soothing. The spirit of Dragon Queen Baalysia appeared, radiant and calm, her presence surrounding Baal like a protective cocoon. Baal’s chest tightened at the sight, familiar and yet distant, and she instinctively curled into herself.The Queen knelt beside her, draping a gentle arm around Baal’s shoulders. “Little one… why are you afraid?” she asked softly, her voice both gentle and resolute. “These memories… they were not meant to chain you. They were given so you could see the world is not as dark as it sometimes seems. Even dragons, even those like us, can find light in it.”Baal’s eyes filled with uncertainty. “I… I don’t know who I am. I feel like… like I’m just a reflection of you. Everything I remember, everything I feel—it isn’t mine, yet it is.”The Queen’s hand lifted to Baal’s chin, gently tilting her face so their eyes met. “No, little one. You are more than a reflection. You are your own being. The shape of my body, the echo of my life, they are tools, not chains. Your path is yours to walk, and your strength… your heart… your choices, they belong only to you.”Baal shivered under the warmth of the embrace, the words both foreign and comforting. She didn’t know how to name the swirl of feelings rising inside her, relief, awe, confusion—but she felt it settling like a spark deep within her chest.“Walk forward, proud of who you are,” the Queen continued, her voice a soft rumble that seemed to vibrate in Baal’s very bones. “Walk forward with the friends who support you. Let go of the past that is not yours to bear, and show the world your true self. You are not just my echo. You are Baal. You are your own dragon.”Baal’s hands tightened around the Queen’s ethereal cloak, gripping it as if it could anchor her wavering self. Her voice was a whisper, uncertain, unpracticed in naming her own feelings. “I… I want to… I want to be me.”The Queen smiled, the light around her shimmering like sunlight on water. “Then be you. And know this, little one, your heart will guide you, even if you cannot yet understand it. Trust it, as you would trust your wings.”Baal exhaled shakily, a tear slipping down her cheek. For the first time in what felt like forever, the storm inside her stilled enough for her to breathe, for her to feel a glimmer of something she could call hope. She did not yet know what love was, what joy fully meant, or what the future held, but for the first time, she felt the faint stirrings of self, and the courage to walk toward it.And as she sat in the ruins, cradled by the spirit of the Dragon Queen, a quiet thought formed in the back of her mind, one she did not yet understand fully, but which made her chest flutter with unfamiliar warmth: perhaps someone, somewhere, might walk that path beside her.
The ruins were silent, broken stones and dust swirling in the faint wind. Baal’s knees trembled as she struggled to stand, her heart heavy with confusion and the weight of memories that weren’t fully hers. Then, as if sensing her need, the spirit of Dragon Queen Baalysia descended, merging with her from within. A warmth spread through her chest, soothing the fears and sorrow that had long bound her, easing the tension that had kept her grounded in doubt.Baal took a deep breath, feeling a pulse of power stir in her very core. Slowly, it expanded outward, rippling through her body. Her hair shimmered as it shifted in color, catching the light in waves of gold, and her eyes began to glow with a brilliant, molten gold. Her horns ignited with a deep crimson radiance, a testament to the dragon’s might and the confidence now anchoring her soul.She lifted slightly from the ground, weightless yet grounded in her own strength, and for the first time, she felt fully present in her body and her being. Power thrummed through her, but it was no longer fear or confusion, it was hers, and hers alone.A breath escaped her lips, steady and full of determination. “The path forward is my own!” she proclaimed, her voice echoing against the ruins. “Whatever happens, I will walk proudly, wherever I go, whether alone… or with my friends!”For a moment, the air shimmered with her aura, golden light intertwined with crimson, reflecting both her inherited strength and the self she had begun to claim. And in that moment, a faint warmth touched the edge of her awareness, Y’shtola’s presence, her turquoise eyes vivid in Baal’s mind. The thought did not confuse her; instead, it anchored her further, a subtle reminder that she was not alone in her journey, and that bonds could be chosen, nurtured, and trusted.Baal descended fully to the ground, standing taller than before, every movement infused with resolve. The spirit of the Dragon Queen lingered as a quiet echo, a guide rather than a chain, as Baal took her first confident steps forward into the world she was now ready to face, herself, her friends, and whatever challenges awaited her.
Baal made her way out of the ruins, her thoughts heavy yet quiet, and headed toward Camp Broken Glass to catch the airship back to Sharlayan. Clutching her linkpearl, she summoned Y’shtola and poured out everything she had experienced—the memories that weren’t fully hers, the confusion, and the embrace of the Dragon Queen’s spirit.For a moment, there was only silence, and Baal felt a pang of uncertainty. Then Y’shtola’s soft, concerned voice came through, carrying an unusual warmth. “Baal… after all that trauma, are you certain you’re alright? Would you like me to come to Garlemald and travel back together? I can stay close, so you won’t feel alone or afraid.”Baal’s voice wavered, soft and hesitant. “Thank you, Y’shtola… I actually want to ask you something else while we travel back, if that’s not too much.”“I’m on my way,” Y’shtola replied, her tone carrying a quiet eagerness, a subtle tremor betraying the emotions she didn’t yet fully understand. “I’ll meet you at Camp Broken Glass.”When Baal arrived, she saw Y’shtola running toward her, concern etched into every line of her face. Without hesitation, Y’shtola wrapped her arms around Baal, holding her tightly, as if to reassure her that she was safe and cherished. Baal hugged her back, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in her chest that made her pause, a fleeting, unnameable stir of something she didn’t yet know how to label.Together, they walked to the airship, side by side, their hands brushing occasionally, neither pulling away. Once aboard, Baal turned to her friend, her heart pounding with nervous anticipation. “Y’shtola… I would like you to give me a new name. Something with no connection to the original me… something I can leave my own mark on the world with. I trust you, completely.”Y’shtola’s turquoise eyes widened, and she felt her pulse quicken, a flutter she didn’t quite understand. “I’m… honored that you trust me with something so personal. Let me think carefully, I want to find the perfect name for my favorite dragon.”Minutes passed, the air between them charged with quiet anticipation. Finally, Y’shtola’s lips curved into a soft smile, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Aldra Saeyris… it suits you perfectly. I hope it feels right.”Tears shimmered in Aldra’s golden eyes as she struggled to regain her composure. “I… I love it, so much. Thank you, Y’shtola. Then let me introduce myself properly: my name is Aldra Saeyris!”They laughed together, a gentle, shared sound that lingered longer than usual, carrying an unspoken bond. As they continued the journey, they talked freely, about what to eat, which tomes to study, and the secrets they hoped to uncover about traveling between shards. Each brush of their hands, each lingering glance, deepened something neither fully understood.Two friends, once enemies, now inseparable, bound by trust, courage, and an unspoken, delicate connection that had begun with Minfilia’s echo and the salvation of a dragon who had once been controlled. In that quiet, shared journey, Aldra began to realize that while she did not yet know what love was, she was learning, step by careful step, the warmth it could bring, and that perhaps Y’shtola’s presence in her life meant more than she could yet name.
Chapter VI: Discovery of one's self
Aldra’s quest to uncover herself had led her to the farthest reaches of the world, some of them almost mythical even to the people of Eorzea. Her first stop was the desolate ruins of the Garlean Laboratory—the place where she had been “born.” Amid the jagged rubble and flickering remnants of broken machinery, something caught her eye: a journal, its leather cover thick with decades of dust. The faintly embossed title read Aulus mal Asina’s Records of the False Queen Project.Compelled by a mix of dread and curiosity, Aldra opened it. As she turned the pages, her hands trembling, she came to the section on cloning, and almost dropped the journal in horror. The entries revealed a truth far darker than she could have imagined: Aulus mal Asina had deceived the Emperor, claiming to have succeeded in creating a clone. The reality was far crueler. The Dragon Queen Baalysia had been pregnant, and all attempts at cloning had failed, perhaps thwarted by the Queen herself. But as Baalysia’s life ebbed, the scientist devised a merciless plan: he would remove her unborn child, place it in an artificial womb, and age it rapidly into a weapon, a soldier, an assassin, molded from infancy. Worse still, he intended to manipulate the child’s very thoughts, implanting the belief that they were nothing but a clone, ensuring they would remain eternally bound to his will.Aldra read on, her pulse quickening. The journal detailed her own origin in chilling precision: she was not fully dragon. Her other half, the scientist noted, was fox spirit blood, a strain unlike any he had ever encountered in these lands. It was a secret that seemed almost otherworldly, as if a fragment of another realm pulsed within her veins.Closing the journal, Aldra felt the weight of her history press down on her. Yet, she also felt the faint stirrings of purpose. She would seek her father’s homeland, the place where fox spirits roamed, the place that might hold the key to her other half. Before leaving, she entrusted the journal to Y’shtola, leaving behind a fragment of the darkness she had inherited, stepping forward into the uncertain and perilous path of self-discovery.
Aldra set sail from Limsa Lominsa, bound for the distant eastern shores of the Land of the Morning Light. There, amid the cherry-blossomed valleys and mist-shrouded mountains, she encountered a fox spirit—a Gumiho—named Koo Mihyun. The moment Mihyun sensed Aldra’s presence, she was captivated by the improbable union of dragon and fox spirit, a bond so rare it seemed almost impossible in this world.Koo Mihyun, perceiving both the danger and curiosity Aldra’s appearance might draw, took it upon herself to guide her. She taught Aldra illusionary magic, allowing her to mask her horns and tail, so she could move unseen by those who might covet or fear her. With this gift, Aldra could navigate the land not as an anomaly, but as an ordinary traveler, free to explore its secrets.Yet even as she adapted, Aldra’s keen adventurer’s instinct sensed that all was not well. Shadows of unrest stirred across the Land of the Morning Light, subtle but persistent, whispering of troubles hidden beneath its serene beauty. Determined, Aldra resolved to uncover the source of this turmoil, ready to confront the unknown and restore balance to a homeland quietly on the edge of chaos.
One victory after another brought them closer to justice, and finally the corrupt leader was captured. Their success caught the attention of the Emperor of the Land of the Morning Light, who extended a personal invitation to the capital city of Seoul.As Aldra and Koo Mihyun stepped into the imperial city, Aldra’s breath caught. Among the bustling streets, she saw a man whose presence sent a shiver through her very core, an instinctive certainty that he was her father. Her heart raced, her legs refused to move, and instinctively she ducked behind a carriage, unwilling to confront the overwhelming truth. Koo Mihyun, her eyes wide, whispered in shock, “That’s… the Emperor.” The revelation struck her like lightning: Aldra’s father ruled the land.Shaken, they returned to their inn to plan their next steps. That night, Aldra reflected on the awakening of her fox spirit heritage, the powers that had long lain dormant stirring to life in response to this mystical land.But dawn brought catastrophe. News spread through the city like wildfire: the Emperor was dead. Worse, Dolswe,the steadfast companion who had guided and protected them, was being accused of the murder. Aldra’s chest tightened with disbelief. She knew him too well; he would never strike down someone he admired and respected. A storm of determination ignited within her. She would uncover the truth, no matter the danger, and prove Dolswe’s innocence.
As they journeyed to uncover the source of the corruption, Aldra and Koo Mihyun unexpectedly encountered Aldra’s stepsister, Yeonhwa. Recognition passed instantly between them,blood and bond undeniable, and Yeonhwa chose to join their cause. Her goal, to heal her nephew Go Yun of a mysterious affliction, aligned seamlessly with Aldra and Koo Mihyun’s mission to bring justice and restore balance to the land.
As they traveled together, Aldra learned more of her father’s past. He had long wondered about his beloved and their child, for Baalysia had departed one fateful night, answering her sacred duties to Eorzea even as he begged her to stay while she carried Aldra. Her love for protecting and guiding those in need was inexhaustible, uncontainable, a truth he had come to respect and mourn in equal measure. Aldra also learned the depth of Go Yun’s suffering: the corruption of the Spirit Shrines had left him weakened, and she had already purified all but the last shrine before receiving the Emperor’s summons to the capital.
Finally, they arrived at the last corrupted Spirit Shrine. There, Yeonhwa revealed the unbearable truth: to purify it and save Go Yun, she alone must sacrifice herself. Aldra’s protests were fierce, tears blinding her, but before she could act, Yeonhwa struck her swiftly, sending her into unconsciousness.
When Aldra awoke, the shrine was purified, bathed in radiant, cleansing light, but Yeonhwa was gone. Her sister’s essence had merged with the magnificent bird spirit Bonghwang, whose mournful cries filled the air, echoing Aldra’s own grief. She had only just begun to reconnect with her family, only to be torn away once more. The sorrow weighed upon her like a crushing storm.
Yet Bonghwang’s voice cut through the despair, solemn but resolute. They must return to the capital with the young prince, Go Yun, to confront the one orchestrating this corruption, and liberate the land from their insidious grasp. Aldra rose, her grief tempered into resolve, knowing that the path ahead was dangerous, but now it carried the weight of vengeance, justice, and the memory of the sister she had just lost.
The capital trembled beneath their feet as Aldra, Koo Mihyun, and Go Yun confronted the deposed crown prince, Yi Su. His eyes burned like molten steel, a lifetime of hatred and ambition radiating from him in waves. Every shadow seemed to twist with malice, every street corner a potential threat. His voice, cold and sharp, carried over the clamor: “This land will bend to me, or it will burn.”
Aldra’s chest tightened. She felt the pulse of the city beneath her claws, the spirits of the land whispering in fear and hope. Go Yun clutched her hand, small and trembling, yet his presence anchored her. She roared, a sound half-dragon, half-fox, and it rolled through the streets like thunder. Sparks of magic ignited the air, swirling around her horns and tail as if the land itself responded to her will.
Koo Mihyun weaved intricate illusions, shimmering duplicates darting and striking, keeping Yi Su off balance while shielding Go Yun. The deposed prince lashed back with dark energy, shattering stone, splintering wood, and twisting shadows that seemed to claw at their very souls. Fire met shadow, light met corruption, and the air vibrated with the clash of power.
Aldra’s heart pounded with grief and determination. She remembered Yeonhwa, now merged with Bonghwang, the purified Spirit Shrines, the countless lives affected by Yi Su’s corruption. Every strike she unleashed was for them, for Go Yun, for the land itself. Her claws tore through Yi Su’s defenses, her magic searing his darkness, until finally, with a surge that shook the heavens, Yi Su fell, his corruption dissolving like mist under sunlight. The city seemed to exhale; the air was clean, the streets quiet, alive with the soft hum of spirits returning.
But victory came at a cost. Exhaustion pulled Aldra to her knees, then to the cobblestones. Every limb trembled, every breath burned. Koo Mihyun was there in an instant, lifting her gently, cradling her as though she were the most fragile thing in the world. Go Yun pressed his small hand to her shoulder, his wide eyes shining with trust and awe. Aldra felt the warmth of the land, the connection to her friends and family, and the sorrow of the sacrifices made. She had saved the city, protected the prince, and freed the spirits, but the weight of it all settled heavy on her shoulders, a reminder that even triumph was never without cost.
When Aldra finally awoke, four days had passed. Koo Mihyun was there, guiding her through the grand halls of the palace, where sunlight streamed through towering windows and banners fluttered in the morning breeze. At the heart of the palace, Go Yun was being crowned the new King of the Land of the Morning Light. The weight of the moment pressed upon Aldra’s chest—this was the culmination of so many trials, sacrifices, and dreams.
As the ceremony ended, Go Yun’s first decree restored Dolswe’s honor, annulling all false charges and reinstating him in his rightful place within the government. Then he turned to Aldra, his eyes warm and steady. “While you are still discovering your home,” he said, his voice echoing softly in the grand hall, “I want to do what your father would have done if he were here. You deserve this—the title of princess, as the daughter of the previous ruler and my cherished aunt. I have prepared a place for you in the palace courtyard, a home you can always return to. You will always be welcome here.”
Go Yun’s words stirred memories and stories of Aldra’s grandmother, Baalysia—the courage, the selflessness, the endless wandering to help those in need. He knew that Aldra, like her, would never stay in one place for long. This farewell was not permanent; it was simply a pause in the life of a dragon who could never be contained.
For several weeks, Aldra remained in Seoul, guiding and supporting her nephew, learning the rhythms and customs of the land, and deepening her understanding of her own fox spirit powers. She discovered new ways to weave them with her draconic abilities, mastering the harmony of both halves of herself.
On a serene summer evening, she made her way to the docks of Nampo’s Moodle Village. The sky blazed with gold and crimson, reflecting the promise of her journey ahead. Before departing, she sent a linkpearl message to Y’shtola, recounting her adventures and announcing her return to Eorzea. The reply came quickly, warm and playful: “Can’t wait to see you, my dragon princess!”
Aldra’s heart swelled, a soft blush rising to her cheeks. She lingered for a moment, letting the sea breeze brush against her face, feeling the pull of home and the thrill of the road ahead. Though she was leaving, she carried with her the bonds of family, the memory of sacrifices made, and the unshakable knowledge that this was only the beginning of her story.
