Chapter XIII: The Connected Worlds and Change: Two Aldras?!
The Thundering Spire
The dome in Xak Tural thrummed with raw aether as the portal opened, a great shimmering veil that bridged the broken expanse of the 9th Shard with the living pulse of the Source. Lightning arced across the sky as Aldra, Y’shtola, and Alisaie stepped through, their boots landing on fractured stone at the threshold of Solution 9’s spire.The air was thick with the storm’s fury, the echoes of battle still clinging to the land. The scars of Endless Sphene’s fall remained etched in the crags, her crystal form shattered across the horizon. Wuk Lamat’s brother’s final roar still seemed to carry on the wind, and the memory of Calyx’s last stand clung like smoke on the tongue. This was a world scarred, but no longer suffocating beneath endless torment.Alisaie pulled her cloak tighter, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the spire’s entrance. The storm reflected in her gaze, but her focus shifted when she remembered what awaited within. “I need to check on Alphinaud. If he’s here, he’ll have been working himself ragged.” Her tone was brisk, but worry softened the edges. She broke away, her silhouette swallowed by the spiraling stair into the spire.
That left Aldra and Y’shtola, standing side by side beneath the storm’s restless canopy. The spire’s entrance loomed before them like a promise—and a challenge. Aldra leaned close, her lips brushing against the shell of Y’shtola’s ear as she whispered with quiet playfulness, “Maybe later tonight, you can use the spell ‘Aldra, Aldra, Moan and Cum’ on me. I’m glad Alisaie didn’t ask what it actually did. It amplifies the pleasure and makes me want you more in that moment. I think it would be a wonderful way to celebrate our first night of marriage.”Y’shtola’s cheeks colored faintly despite the storm’s chill, her lips curving into a sly smile as a giggle escaped her throat. The scholar’s composure faltered, replaced by a flash of hungry anticipation. “You temptress,” she murmured, her tone edged with warmth and mirth. “Very well. Tonight, then. A fitting way to mark the beginning of forever.”The storm raged on, the wind whipping at their hair and clothes, but within the spire’s shadow, the promise of peace—and of a night entirely their own—burned brighter than any lightning in the sky.
Love at the Edge of Tomorrow
The next morning in Solution 9 dawned with a glittering neon haze, soft and slow, as though even the lights themselves knew what kind of night Aldra and Y’shtola had shared. Their clothing, torn and frayed from the frantic chase that had once been driven by obsession and fear, now served as reminders of a journey that ended not in ruin, but in clarity… and vows. Alisaie didn’t miss it. Alphinaud certainly didn’t.Still, Aldra walked with her head high, her tail brushing lightly behind her, and one hand resting at the small of Y’shtola’s back—protective, steady, proud. Y’shtola, in turn, stayed close, the faintest, satisfied curve to her lips, the kind that made Alisaie sigh through her nose but couldn’t quite scold. Not today.They stepped into the backroom of the Neon Stein, greeted at once by Alisaie. Alphinaud stood beside her, arms folded, his expression caught between relief and lingering distrust as he questioned Y’shtola about her motives—what, exactly, had made her so fixated on Aldra.Y’shtola lifted her chin.
“Alphinaud… I understand your questions. And your doubts. My… fixation on protecting Aldra led to choices I should have reconsidered. But I have learned from it. Truly.”Aldra’s hand pressed more firmly against her wife’s back, gentle reassurance glowing in her mismatched eyes.Alphinaud exhaled slowly. “I worried you acted out of obsession, not love… but I can see now the truth in your voice.” His gaze softened. “And I am glad—more than glad—that you two found your way to each other, as wives.”Aldra beamed, and Y’shtola’s cheeks flushed just slightly—only noticeable because Alisaie smirked at her for it.
Before more could be said, Shale’s console pulsed with warning light.
“A convergence report,” Shale announced. “Jeuno—First Walk. People vanishing and coming back with memories that don’t match anything from this shard. It’s as if they’ve lived entire lives somewhere else.”Aldra and Y’shtola exchanged a glance—an unspoken agreement.
“We’ll go,” Aldra said. “If something strange is happening there, we’ll uncover it.”“And G’raha Tia sent word,” Shale continued. “Similar reports in the First. Aether is fluctuating in ways he hasn’t seen since the aftermath of the Flood, Ryne has asked for help on this situation.”“We’ll investigate both,” Y’shtola said. “But first…”Alphinaud cleared his throat delicately.
“Before you run off to another world-altering mystery—perhaps wait a few days? Your clothes appear to have suffered… significantly.” His lips twitched upward. “And your rings—may I just say—they suit you both.”Both women raised their hands subtly, their wedding bands catching the soft violet light. Aldra’s turquoise stone shimmered with her draconian warmth; Y’shtola’s pale blue gem glowed gently, both bound with a spell that let them teleport to each other in an instant—or summon the other with a touch.Aldra smiled. “It was my idea. Just in case either of us ever got separated again.”Y’shtola’s tail flicked with quiet, pleased pride.
Two days passed in gentle anticipation.When Aldra got word from Shale that a package had arrived for her, she and Y’shtola came together—Y’shtola now in the sleek, casual outfit Aldra had gifted her the night before. Alisaie sat waiting at the table, curious.Aldra opened the parcel slowly. Inside lay a folded set of armor—light, flexible, beautifully crafted to enhance her draconian strength and her fox-spirit agility. A note rested atop it:“My dear young fox-spirit student,
Your body has finally been freed—no longer torn between halves.
I had armor forged to amplify your unified strength.
Wear it proudly.
And I sensed you have found someone to love.
May she cherish you well.
—Koo Mihyun.”Aldra felt her throat tighten.
“Koo Mihyun… she knew.”“Try it on,” Y’shtola murmured, eyes bright with anticipation.
Aldra slipped into the armor piece by piece. It fit perfectly—every contour of her figure, every flex of her muscles, every movement of her tail harmonized with it as though it had been crafted by someone who understood her in ways no one else ever had.Y’shtola’s breath caught quietly.The armor hugged Aldra’s curves with striking elegance, accentuating her strength and grace. Her wife watched openly, lovingly, drinking in every detail—the glimmering patterns, the silhouette, the way the fabric traced her hips and shoulders.Alisaie clapped, delighted.
“Aldra, it looks incredible on you!”Aldra flushed a deep rose.
“I—I’m glad. And Y’shtola… your clothing will be ready in two days.”Y’shtola only smiled—slow, warm, with a hint of mischief as her tail brushed against Aldra’s leg.“Then,” she purred, “we’ll be properly prepared for the First and the Crystarium then to Jeuno after, as the First having aether fluctuations are very concerning.”And beneath the neon lights, surrounded by friends and the pulse of a world rebuilding, Aldra felt something she had never tasted so completely before:Hope.
Love.
And a future she would walk hand-in-hand with her wife—no matter what awaited them in Jeuno, the Crystarium… or beyond.
Steps Aligned Beneath Crystal Light
The aether parted cleanly as Aldra and Y’shtola stepped into the First once more, the familiar glow of the Crystarium rising around them like a living beacon. The city breathed with quiet purpose—merchants calling out wares, guards patrolling sunlit walkways, scholars drifting between towers with arms full of notes. It was no longer a place clinging to survival, but one steadily reclaiming its future.Y’shtola adjusted the clasp of her newly repaired garments as Aldra reached for her hand, their fingers interlacing with an ease born of certainty rather than caution. Together, they made their way toward the Cabinet of Curiosity, only to find Ryne just preparing to depart. She spotted them at once, her face lighting up as she hurried over, scarcely containing her excitement.They climbed to the upper level of the library, the hum of conversation fading beneath shelves heavy with gathered knowledge. Y’shtola explained their purpose plainly: aetheric fluctuations had been detected in the First, subtle but distinct enough to warrant concern. Ryne listened carefully, then frowned in thought before admitting that the disturbance had already been addressed—by a mysterious visitor who had arrived only hours earlier. The stranger, Ryne said, had since wandered off toward the markets in search of a meal.Aldra felt a prickle of unease at that. Very few knew of the fluctuation at all. As the realization settled in, Y’shtola caught it instantly, her gaze sharpening. They agreed to seek out the stranger together, though Ryne offered to assist if needed. Aldra reassured her with a gentle smile—it was something they could handle.Before they parted, Ryne tilted her head, curiosity sparkling. “Are you two… married?”The question was met with shared smiles. Aldra answered softly but firmly, speaking from a place long denied but now fully open. Ryne’s delight was immediate. “I knew it,” she laughed. “You’re both different—calmer. Like you’ve finally found peace.”In the main square, the crowd ebbed and flowed around them as they discussed how to find the stranger. Ryne’s description was brief but vivid: red hair, a cropped jacket, unmistakable confidence. Yet minutes passed with no sign—until a voice called Aldra’s name.
The woman who approached them stopped short, her expression shifting from certainty to confusion as she took Aldra in. Her tail, her horns—or rather, the lack of them—did not match what she remembered.“Aldra,” the stranger said slowly, “you shouldn’t be here. Your body—”Aldra straightened at once. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”The woman exhaled, realization dawning. “Different world,” she muttered, then smiled. “Gekzil. Call me Gek. I’m not your enemy. I followed an aether surge from Jeuno—the First Walk.”Before Y’shtola could interject, Aldra stepped forward, eyes bright with challenge rather than fear. “Then let’s see if you’re telling the truth.”
The moment Aldra steps forward, the air itself seems to tighten.Gek’s grin sharpens—not predatory, but eager—as she rolls her shoulders and plants her feet. There is no killing intent in her stance, only readiness. Aldra feels it immediately: this woman is not here to dominate, but to understand.They move at the same instant.Stone cracks beneath their boots as Aldra drives in with a straight punch, draconic strength coiled but restrained. Gek twists aside with practiced ease, her counter a short, snapping elbow that Aldra barely deflects with her forearm. The impact sends a ripple through Aldra’s arm—not pain, but recognition. This is someone who knows how to fight gods, not monsters.“Good,” Gek laughs, ducking under a sweeping kick. “You’re lighter on your feet in this world.”Aldra pivots, tail snapping instinctively—still soft, still pale—but the motion alone forces Gek to backstep. Aldra hadn’t realized she’d moved it that way. Her body is remembering something older than thought.They clash again—fist to fist, knee to thigh, shoulder to shoulder—each exchange precise, controlled. Neither overcommits. Neither holds back completely.Then they collide head-on.
The headbutt lands with a thunderous crack, aether flaring outward in a shockwave that rattles the windows of the Crystarium’s square. For a heartbeat, everything freezes.Y’shtola’s breath catches.Aldra staggers half a step—and then something answers inside her.Her tail shifts first.The pale silver hue bleeds into crystalline turquoise, translucent and luminous, as if light itself has been given form. Green vines curl along its length, roses blooming where aether pools, petals glowing faintly with each breath Aldra takes. The change sends a shiver through her spine—not pain, but release.Gek’s eyes widen. “There you are.”Aldra doesn’t respond—she moves.Her horns push through her hair in a smooth, inevitable arc, dark at the base and gleaming toward their tips, unmistakably Bahamut in shape. Her eyes blaze brighter: the right a deep, draconic crimson-blue, the left still carrying that playful violet-pink spark of her fox spirit heritage. Not divided. Balanced.
Their next exchange is faster.Aldra’s strikes now carry layered intent—raw draconic force tempered by fox-like precision. Gek meets her blow for blow, boots skidding as she absorbs a heavy kick, then returns it with a knee that snaps Aldra’s head back. Aldra twists with it, letting momentum carry her into a low sweep that forces Gek to vault over her.They’re smiling now.Laughing, even.This isn’t a test anymore—it’s a conversation spoken in motion and impact. Each block, each parry says I see you. Each strike answers I understand.
When Aldra lands a clean hit—a sharp kick that drives Gek back several paces—her tail changes again, thickening, darkening into a powerful black form lined with glowing turquoise armor-like segments. This is no longer just an echo of Bahamut. Still, the fox’s playful spark gleamed in her left eye, violet against the crimson blaze of her right.This is hers.Gek wipes blood from her lip, still grinning. “Yeah. That tracks.”
She rushes in, magic flaring around her fists as she throws a heavy right. Aldra meets it with her forearm, aether screaming as their forces collide. Aldra counters instantly—an elbow, a knee, a spinning kick—forcing Gek down to one knee before Gek twists and sweeps Aldra’s legs out from under her in return.
They both hit the ground—roll—spring apart—then charge one last time.Their final clash stops inches short of catastrophe, fists locked together, aether roaring between them like a living thing.“Enough,” Y’shtola says calmly—but with authority—as she is clapping once.The aether disperses.Aldra exhales slowly, her transformations settling—not fading, but stabilizing, as if her body has accepted a new truth. Gek straightens, stretching her neck with a satisfied groan.
Y’shtola stepped forward. The crowd, which had gathered in fascinated silence, broke into murmurs of approval.Aldra offered her fist. Gek bumped it with a grin.“So,” Y’shtola said lightly, “I take it you weren’t the cause of the disturbance?”Gek laughed. “Nothing so dire. The First’s aether is finally stabilizing. I just helped it along—redirected the excess into crystal. That’s all.”
Relief passed between Aldra and Y’shtola in a shared glance. After brief farewells, Gek departed, already half-turned toward another world and another duty.As the square settled back into its rhythm, Y’shtola studied her wife with open admiration. “You’ve changed again,” she said softly. “And somehow, you’re even more beautiful.”Aldra felt warmth rise to her cheeks as she squeezed Y’shtola’s hand. “Let’s rest tonight,” she said, smiling. “Jeuno can wait until morning.”Together, they turned toward the light of the Crystarium, hearts steady, steps aligned, ready for whatever lay ahead.
The echo of clashing blows still lingered in Aldra’s muscles as she and Y’shtola made their way through the crystalline avenues of the Crystarium. The spar with Gek had been demanding—bruising in places, exhilarating in others—and yet Aldra felt steadier for it, her aether calm and centered in a way that once would have been impossible. Each step carried the quiet confidence of someone no longer fighting against herself.After delivering their report and sharing their thoughts on Gek’s strength, discipline, and unyielding spirit, the tension of duty finally loosened its grip. Night had fully settled over the city by the time they turned toward the Pendants, the inn’s warm lights glowing invitingly against the cool blue crystal spires.Y’shtola walked close at Aldra’s side, her gaze never straying far. She watched the way Aldra carried herself now—how the remnants of the sparring match rested easily on her frame, not as strain, but as proof of growth. It still stirred something deep within her to see the change so clearly. The spell she had once feared, once questioned in the quiet hours of guilt, had not bound Aldra at all. It had saved her—freed her from bindings laid upon her when she was too young to fight back, and in doing so, had given them both a future.“You were incredible today,” Y’shtola said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. There was pride in her voice, and something gentler beneath it. “Gek pushed you hard… and you met her every step of the way.”Aldra smiled, a touch tired but bright all the same. “She reminds me of you,” she replied lightly. “Strong. Uncompromising. And frustratingly perceptive.”
Y’shtola laughed under her breath, then reached out, resting a reassuring hand at the small of Aldra’s back. “I am grateful,” she admitted quietly. “For Gek. For tonight. And for the chance to walk beside you like this—knowing I did not steal your future, but helped uncover it.”Aldra leaned subtly into the touch, her hand finding Y’shtola’s in return. “We found it together,” she said simply.The doors of the Pendants awaited them, promising rest before their journey to Jeuno at dawn. As they stepped inside, smiles shared and voices low with private laughter, the weight of battle and old regrets faded into the background.Tonight was for recovery, warmth—and the simple joy of being together, unbound at last.
A Quiet Divergence
The ache of exertion still lingered faintly in Aldra’s muscles as she and Y’shtola stepped into Jeuno, the port city unfolding before them in impossible layers. The spar with Gek had grounded her—reminded her of balance, restraint, and the steady discipline she had honed—but Jeuno demanded a different kind of awareness altogether. The moment her boots met the stone, Aldra felt it: aether not raging or corrupted, but rearranged, as though the city itself breathed according to rules written elsewhere.Above the cerulean waters, shattered arches and fragments of ancient walls hovered in suspended silence. They did not drift nor tremble; they simply were, held aloft by an unseen will that asked no questions of gravity. The air carried a low, constant hum, a resonance that brushed against Aldra’s senses like a held note—calm, sustained, and deliberate. It was not unpleasant. If anything, it was soothing, like standing within the slow pulse of a living heart.What struck her most was how little anyone seemed to notice.Merchants hawked their wares from sun-warmed stalls, banners fluttered lazily between stone pillars, and sailors shouted greetings across the docks as if the sky were not littered with the bones of a ruined city. Children laughed, guards patrolled, and life moved forward with practiced ease. To the people of Jeuno, the impossible had long since become mundane.
Y’shtola slowed beside her, tail swaying thoughtfully as her gaze traced the flow of aether threading through the city. Her eyes narrowed—not in concern, but in fascination—as she followed invisible currents curling around the floating ruins and down into the streets below. Aldra felt that familiar awareness stir between them, a quiet harmony born of shared magic and shared life. She knew what Y’shtola was thinking before the words were spoken.“This place is… balanced,” Y’shtola murmured at last. “Not untouched—but carefully maintained.”They began their work without ceremony.Together, they spoke with traders fresh off the docks, shopkeepers who had lived their entire lives beneath drifting stone, sailors bound for distant shores, and guards stationed near the keep. Their questions were gentle, precise—strangers with memories that did not belong to them, travelers who arrived knowing things they should not, people who felt displaced within their own skin.
Each answer came with the same regretful shake of the head.“Sorry, no.”
“Can’t say I’ve heard of anything like that.”
“You might try the keep—if anyone would know, it’d be them.”Though the trail yielded nothing tangible, Aldra did not feel the familiar weight of frustration. Jeuno felt stable. Peaceful. Whatever had shaped this place had settled into equilibrium, its aether woven cleanly into the rhythm of daily life.And sometimes, Aldra knew, peace itself was not an absence of answers—but a sign that the right question had yet to be asked.
They did not realize at first when Jeuno began to change.The shift came softly, like a held breath finally released. Stone gave way to stone almost identical in shape and color, yet the seams between blocks felt subtly wrong—angles a fraction sharper, arches stretching just a little too high. Light bent differently here, refracting through the air as though filtered by unseen glass. Even the sounds of the city seemed altered, footsteps echoing a half-second longer than they should have.Y’shtola slowed, her grip tightening around Aldra’s hand as her senses caught up to what her eyes already suspected. The aether here was deeper, layered—no longer the calm resonance of a stable port, but something braided, overlapping upon itself.She exhaled sharply through her nose. “We’ve made no headway,” she muttered, irritation flashing across her features. Not failure—never that—but the frustration of knowing something was close and refusing to reveal itself.Aldra answered without breaking stride. Her fingers laced more firmly with Y’shtola’s, grounding her with familiar warmth. “We will,” she said softly. “The keep is still ahead. Whatever this is… it’s pulling us forward, not away.”Y’shtola glanced at her then, the tension easing just enough to let trust take its place. She allowed herself a faint nod and continued on.
As they passed through a narrower thoroughfare, Y’shtola’s gaze lingered on a young knight conversing with a merchant—polite, earnest, unaware of the quiet convergence unfolding around him. After a moment, she spoke, carefully measured.“Aldra,” she said, “do you ever wonder… had you and your mother not been taken by the Garleans, if you might have become something like her?”There was no sorrow in the question. Only respect.Aldra considered it, truly. “Perhaps,” she admitted. “But I don’t regret the path that led me here. Even the pain.” Her thumb brushed gently over Y’shtola’s knuckles. “I met you. I learned who I am. I learned what love feels like.”Y’shtola’s cheeks warmed despite herself, and Aldra caught the look that followed—the knowing glint that spoke of shared memories and spells once teased about in quieter moments.
Near the keep, they passed a mother watching her child laugh beside a fountain, a young girl studying the stonework as though imagining her future carved among it. Small lives. Quiet hopes. Proof that Jeuno had been spared the scars borne elsewhere.At the gate, Y’shtola questioned the guard once more with practiced courtesy. The answer was the same—peaceful, uneventful, unbroken.They thanked him and turned away together, choosing rest over impatience.Whatever waited within Jeuno, it was not finished with them yet.
That night, Jeuno exhaled.The city’s ever-present hum softened into something almost reverent as lanterns dimmed and footsteps thinned along the stone paths. From the inn’s upper floor, the distant creak of docks and the murmur of the sea blended into a lullaby shaped by time and tide.Within the inn, Aldra slept deeply, the tension of the day finally released. Her breathing was slow and even, her body warm beneath the covers. Her tail curved instinctively toward Y’shtola, resting against her leg in a familiar, grounding touch. Y’shtola remained awake for a time, watching her wife with an expression she rarely allowed herself—unguarded, serene.She brushed her fingers through Aldra’s hair, tracing the gentle rise and fall of her chest, feeling an unexpected sense of completeness settle in her heart. For so long, her life had been defined by motion—research, duty, sacrifice, loss. Now, in this quiet space, she found she wanted nothing more than to remain exactly where she was. By Aldra’s side. Anchored. Content.Y’shtola allowed herself that quiet moment. To watch. To feel. To acknowledge the fragile miracle of now.Morning arrived without urgency.Sunlight spilled through the inn’s windows, pale and warm, catching on dark scales and pale fur alike. Aldra stirred first, blinking awake with a soft sound of contentment before smiling when she realized she hadn’t dreamed the closeness. They dressed slowly, unhurried, sharing glances and small touches that spoke more than words.
At a nearby café, they settled into the rhythm of the city’s waking hours. Cups clinked. Steam curled upward, scented with caramel and spice. Around them, conversation flowed freely—plans for trade routes, renovations, children arguing over sweets. No whispered fears. No urgency. Just life, unfolding.Aldra cradled her drink, tail flicking lazily beneath the table as she watched Y’shtola listen, her expression uncharacteristically light. For a moment, it felt as though the world had granted them permission to simply be.“I was thinking,” Aldra said gently, “before we report back… we should stop by the Rising Stones. It’s the anniversary of when I went to the First—to bring you all home. When your souls were trapped there, and your bodies here were fading.”Y’shtola’s gaze softened, memory stirring like a tide. She remembered the weight of the First, the distant echo of the Source, and Aldra’s unyielding resolve as she crossed worlds to reclaim the Scions’ spirits before it was too late. It had been the moment Y’shtola understood that Aldra’s courage was not born of strength alone, but of love fierce enough to defy the boundaries of existence.“Yes,” she replied quietly. “That would be… fitting.”
Hand in hand, they rose and stepped back into the light—toward Mor Dhona, toward memory and meaning—unaware that this stillness was not an ending, but a breath drawn deep.The storm was coming.And their journey, once more, was about to change.
Before the World Notices
Mor Dhona lay hushed beneath a pale, watchful sky, the Rising Stones steeped in the same reverent stillness Aldra remembered all too well. She and Y’shtola entered side by side, their pace slowing without conscious thought, as if the stones themselves guided them onward. They stopped before the bed—unchanged, preserved with care—where Y’shtola’s body had once lain unmoving, breath shallow, while her soul fought for survival in the First.Aldra’s chest tightened. Memories surfaced with aching clarity: the endless hours spent at that bedside, the quiet prayers murmured to a form that could not answer, the terror that crept in whenever night stretched too long. She drew in a steadying breath, fingers lacing firmly with Y’shtola’s before she spoke.“When you came back to me,” Aldra said softly, her voice steady despite the emotion beneath it, “that was the happiest moment of my life. Seeing your eyes open. Knowing you were truly here again.” Her mismatched gaze lifted, shining. “But the moment that followed—when you said yes to me, in Matoya’s cave, after Alisaie saw the truth of my heart… that was when everything finally aligned. When you chose me, knowing my love was real. Not a spell. Not control. Just me. You made my body whole.”She squeezed Y’shtola’s hand, grounding herself in the present. “That was when I knew my heart was whole.”
Y’shtola’s breath caught, tears gathering as she turned fully toward her wife. Y’shtola turned fully toward her, eyes glistening as she returned the grip, thumb brushing Aldra’s knuckles with gentle affection. “For me,” she murmured, voice warm with certainty, “my happiest days began the moment you asked me to marry you. Every day since then has been brighter—more than I ever thought I deserved.”A faint, knowing smile curved her lips, eyes softening with memory. “And when I first saw you in the First…” she admitted, a quiet laugh trembling beneath the words, “I very nearly forgot myself. All I wanted was to rush to you, to pull you close and kiss you senseless—gods, just to feel you there, real and alive.”They remained there together, hands entwined in the sacred quiet, the weight of old fear finally eased. What had once been a wound had become something stronger—a bond freely chosen, tempered by truth, devotion, and time.
They were still lingering in the quiet of the Rising Stones when a bright, unmistakable voice cut through the reverence like a bell.“Well! Y’shtola—and Aldra together?!”Both of them startled. Aldra’s shoulders tensed on instinct, while Y’shtola turned smoothly, already masking her surprise. Tataru bustled toward them, hands planted firmly on her hips, eyes sharp beneath her cheerful smile.“And Aldra,” she added pointedly, gaze flicking to the dark armor hugging her frame, “don’t tell me you’re wearing armor again. If Blue finds out, I’ll be the one listening to the lecture—and your wife won’t enjoy hearing it twice.”Y’shtola stepped in before Aldra could protest, her tone light, almost teasing. “It’s only for today, Tataru. She wore this same armor in the First. It felt… appropriate.”Tataru opened her mouth to retort, then noticed the sapphire ring glinting softly on Y’shtola’s hand. Her expression shifted, sternness melting into something gentler. “Ah. Well.” She sighed, relenting. “I suppose I can overlook it—just this once.”
She hesitated, fingers fidgeting before she continued, voice lowering just a touch. “Y’shtola, Shale has been asking after you in Solution 9. But before that…” Her gaze returned to Aldra, thoughtful now. “Would you mind seeing her home first? Her body shouldn’t undergo aetherial teleportation at the moment.”Aldra stiffened. Confusion flashed across her features, tail twitching faintly. But Y’shtola was already there, fingers lacing with hers, her tail coiling gently around Aldra’s in a familiar, grounding gesture.“Of course,” Y’shtola replied calmly. “I’ll make certain she returns safely.”Tataru nodded, satisfied, and soon disappeared back into the bustle of the Stones.When they were alone again, Aldra let out a slow breath. “My body can’t handle teleportation?” she murmured, eyes narrowing slightly as awareness crept in. “My love… I don’t think we’re where we believe we are.”Y’shtola met her gaze, thoughtful rather than alarmed. “Then we’ll uncover the truth,” she said softly, fingers tightening around Aldra’s hand. “Together.”The warmth between them remained—but beneath it, something unseen had begun to shift.
The Lavender Beds greeted them with birdsong and drifting petals, serenity laid so thick it felt almost staged. Sunlight filtered through trellises and stone arches, glinting off still water and polished placards. They walked slowly, methodically, checking each name etched in brass.Nothing.With every empty placard, unease coiled tighter in Aldra’s chest. This place felt right—too right—for answers to be absent.Then she stopped.Across a small lawn, half-hidden by flowering shrubs, sat a woman on a garden bench. She laughed softly at something unseen, one hand resting over her belly. The sound struck Aldra like a blow.Same face. Same posture. Same presence.But the differences were unmistakable. The tail—thinner, shaped as one Aldra had never seen before it . Her body, round with pregnancy, carried a gentleness Aldra had only recently begun to know herself.Her breath hitched violently. “That… that can’t be me.”Y’shtola followed her gaze—and froze. For a heartbeat, even her composure faltered. Then she moved without hesitation, turning Aldra toward her and placing both hands firmly on her shoulders.“My love,” she said softly but with absolute authority. “Breathe.”Aldra’s vision swam, panic clawing at her ribs. Y’shtola drew her closer, grounding her with touch and tone alike. “We will not confront her. Not yet. Whatever this is, we will approach it with care.”
She guided Aldra away from the lawn, down toward the riverbank where water whispered over stone. The distance steadied Aldra’s pulse, though her thoughts still raced.From her satchel, Y’shtola withdrew a folded flyer, smoothing it carefully between them.Grand Opening — Aldra’s Fresh and Sweet Café.Aldra stared at the name, realization dawning slowly, painfully. Another life. Another path.“This,” Y’shtola said gently, “is a thread we can follow—without tearing her world apart.”A long silence passed. Then Aldra nodded, resolve settling where fear had been.
“If she is this world’s Aldra… then we protect her peace,” she said quietly. Her hand rested instinctively over her own abdomen. “And her child.”The river flowed on, unaware that two worlds had just brushed against one another—and refused, for now, to break.
They reached the café as dusk settled fully into night, lanternlight pooling warmly along the stone paths of the Lavender Beds. The building glowed with life—soft laughter inside, the faint clink of cups and cutlery drifting through the open windows. It felt inviting. Ordinary. And that, somehow, made Aldra’s pulse race all the faster.She slipped instinctively into the shadows as Y’shtola moved ahead, her presence calm and composed as ever, though her tail flicked once in quiet alertness. Aldra lingered just out of sight, fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeves as she steadied her breathing.Before Y’shtola could reach the door, familiar voices cut through the night.“Well I’ll be damned,” Thancred said cheerfully, stepping into the light with an easy grin. “Y’shtola? Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”Alisaie stood nearby, arms folded, her expression polite but sharp—eyes already searching Y’shtola’s face for answers that hadn’t yet been given.Y’shtola recovered smoothly, years of practiced composure guiding her words. “I heard Aldra’s café had finally opened,” she replied lightly. “I wouldn’t miss the chance to see her work—and sample the food. You know how fond I am of her cooking.”
Thancred laughed, the sound easy and unguarded. “Then you’re in for a treat. She’s been buzzing all night. This place is already packed.”Alisaie’s gaze lingered a moment longer, something unsettled flickering beneath her smile, before she turned toward the door. “We were just about to head inside.”From her hiding place, Aldra watched it all unfold—familiar faces, familiar rhythms—her heart pounding with the strange certainty that this moment mattered far more than it should.She followed them in silence, unseen, unaware that beyond the threshold waited more than answers. One choice. One glance. One spark of curiosity——and the path ahead would begin to bend in ways neither she nor Y’shtola could yet foresee.