Chapter XIV: When Reflections Begin to Break

To Watch, and Not Reach

From the shadows of the café, Aldra watched her wife with practiced restraint. Y’shtola moved with ease among Thancred and Alisaie, her composure flawless, every word and gesture convincing enough that they saw only their Y’shtola standing before them. She waited, allowing them to enter first, then followed at a measured distance, slipping into a quiet booth along the wall where she could observe without drawing attention.From there, Aldra’s gaze was inevitably drawn to this world’s Aldra.She looked radiant—more than joy alone could explain. There was a softness to her posture, a protective way her hand rested against her belly when she laughed or stood to help the staff. Aldra’s instincts stirred uneasily. She could not say with certainty that her counterpart was with child… yet every part of her felt it. And that made no sense. Aldra knew her own body—knew what the Garlean bindings had taken from her. Pregnancy had never been possible. Or so she had believed.Her thoughts spiraled. Had her own liberation—freedom from those bindings—rippled outward across worlds? Had something she and Y’shtola had done unknowingly altered the fate of another Aldra entirely?Nearby, Alisaie studied Y’shtola with a sharp, thoughtful gaze, briefly noticing the unfamiliar blue-gemmed ring on her finger. After a moment’s consideration, she dismissed it as a celebratory adornment for Aldra’s opening night. Thancred, meanwhile, was already eager to sample the drinks, cheerfully roping both women into his enthusiasm as Tiika came to take their order.Aldra sipped her tea in silence. When she overheard a staff member gently scolding the other Aldra—“We’ve got this, boss. Sit. You’re glowing too much today to be overworking”—her breath caught painfully in her chest. For a fleeting moment, she wanted nothing more than to approach her counterpart. To ask her how her life had unfolded so differently. To understand how she had learned love with such certainty, without the pain and confusion Aldra herself had endured.But she stayed seated. If this Aldra truly carried a child, stress could be dangerous. Aldra would not be the cause of that.

As the evening wore on, a tall dragon woman and a pink-haired Au Ra entered the café. Aldra watched as her counterpart’s face lit up instantly.
“Alicia, my love—and Izzi,” she greeted warmly. “I’m so glad you’re here. Come sit—your drinks are already being prepared.”There was no jealousy in Aldra’s heart as she watched them together—only a quiet, genuine happiness. Her counterpart had found someone to cherish her early, to walk beside her without doubt.When service began to wind down, Aldra slipped a heavy pouch of gil beneath her cup—part donation, part gratitude. Rising quietly, she noticed the other Aldra bidding farewell to Thancred, Y’shtola, and Alisaie, with Izzi close at her side and Alicia laughing softly at something said. It was the perfect distraction.Aldra turned to leave.“…Aldra?” Izzi murmured under her breath, having caught the barest glimpse of a familiar silhouette.But Aldra was already gone.Behind her, praise and laughter filled the café.
“You did amazing,” Alisaie said brightly.
“If there’re leftovers, I volunteer,” Thancred added with a grin.Y’shtola lingered a heartbeat longer, her eyes drifting—unbidden—to Aldra’s stomach, curiosity stirring beneath her calm mask. She said nothing, then quietly excused herself.Aldra dismissed it as Y’shtola simply being… Y’shtola.

The night beyond the café was hushed, the lanternlight casting long, amber shadows across the stone path and the empty tables set along the far wall. Aldra moved there instinctively, needing distance—space to breathe, to steady the storm of thoughts that had been building since she first laid eyes on her counterpart. She rested her hands against the cool wood, tail coiling loosely behind her as she waited.When Y’shtola emerged at last, Aldra knew before a single word was spoken. There was a stillness to her wife’s stride, a sharp clarity in her gaze that spoke of conclusions reached, not theories tested.“My love,” Y’shtola said softly as she drew near, her voice threaded with both wonder and resolve, “there is no doubt now. That woman was you—another you entirely. Her aether is unmistakable.” She hesitated only a fraction of a second. “And she is with child. Nearly four months along, if my senses are to be trusted.”The words settled heavily between them.“The timing,” Y’shtola continued, eyes narrowing in thought, “aligns far too closely with the first spell I cast upon you. In Tuliyollal. That night we were alone.”Aldra closed her eyes, inhaling slowly as pieces long dismissed began to lock into place. “Then the spell that awakened my craving for you,” she murmured, voice low, “it didn’t merely stir desire. It broke the last of the Garlean bindings woven into my body.” Her tail flicked once, thoughtful. “And when you later bound me fully in Idyllshire… that wasn’t corruption. It was completion. You made me whole.”She opened her eyes again, gaze drifting back toward the café’s darkened windows. “If magic truly echoes across worlds, then her freedom may have been born of mine. She was released without ever knowing why.”There was a long pause before Aldra spoke again. “She is different from me. Changed. Further along a path I haven’t yet walked.” A faint, careful smile touched her lips. “I won’t confront her—not now. Fear or shock could harm her… and the life she carries. I won’t be the cause of that.”

Y’shtola followed her gaze, expression unreadable. “She is married,” she said quietly. “Not to me. Likely to the pink-haired Au Ra we saw.” A hint of intrigue slipped through her calm tone. “That alone invites… many questions.”She reached for Aldra’s hand, fingers warm and grounding. “Come. Let us go to Gridania. We will observe, learn, and tread carefully. This world will reveal itself in time.”Later, within the quiet of the inn, plans took shape with practiced ease. Aldra would travel to Limsa Lominsa—listen, gather information, learn how closely this world mirrored their own.

Y’shtola, already several steps ahead, revealed the garments she had purchased in advance: clothes that matched this world’s Aldra perfectly, down to the smallest detail.Even the ring was addressed. With a subtle spell, the turquoise gem shimmered, shifting into the same blue worn by her counterpart.

The next morning, Y’shtola regarded her wife with open admiration. “Beautiful,” she said softly. “And convincingly so.”Before they parted, Y’shtola leaned close, voice dropping to a private murmur, equal parts teasing and intent. “No aetherial teleportation, my dear. Not while you are… ‘pregnant.’ Not unless you are entirely alone.”

Aldra laughed quietly, warmth blooming in her chest as she turned toward the road to Limsa Lominsa—unaware just how deeply Y’shtola’s curiosity, determination, and fragile hope had already begun to take root, promising changes neither of them could yet foresee.

Echoes in a Familiar City

Limsa Lominsa opened itself to Aldra beneath a clear midday sky, its white stone bridges alive with motion and sound. Sailors called out from the docks, merchants bartered with practiced ease, and adventurers passed one another with the unspoken understanding of those who had all survived something worth remembering. Aldra paused at the threshold of it all, letting the rhythm wash over her. For a fleeting heartbeat, the tension coiled in her chest loosened. The banners snapped in the sea breeze just as they always had. The scent of salt and tar lingered in the air. Even the cadence of footsteps against stone felt achingly familiar.It would have been easy to believe she had never left.But she had not come to be comforted.With measured steps, she moved deeper into the city, her gaze sharp and searching as she compared memory to reality. She noted the faces, the conversations drifting past, the posted notices and half-heard rumors. She was not looking for herself—not yet—but for proof. If this world truly paralleled her own, then its scars would match hers. The calamities, the recoveries, the quiet moments that followed great upheaval… all of it should leave traces.

By midday, hunger tugged insistently at her focus. She ducked into a familiar tavern and ordered a simple meal, grateful for the grounding weight of warm food and the low murmur of voices around her. When Baderon appeared, she kept her questions light, almost idle, carefully masking the significance behind them. He spoke freely, recounting recent events with the ease of someone who had lived through them rather than studied them.And therein lay the difference.Everything aligned—every conflict, every resolution—until one absence became impossible to ignore. Here, there had been no incident between Aldra and Y’shtola. No spell cast in desperation. No fracture. No moment where love had been dragged into the light and forced to stand before Matoya and Alisaie to be judged and named.Aldra felt something unfamiliar bloom in her chest. Relief… and a strange, tender ache. This world’s Aldra had been spared that pain. In her own, that path had been sharp and cruel—but it had ended in honesty, in vows spoken on one knee, in a future chosen together.She thanked Baderon and stepped back into the sunlit streets, her resolve steadying as she turned her thoughts toward her next move. She did not see the way a pair of eyes lingered on her retreating form, nor sense the faint prickle along her spine that warned she was no longer alone in her search.

As Aldra descended toward the lower wards, the feeling returned—subtle at first, like the prickle of a half-remembered dream, then sharper, undeniable. She was being watched.She did not look back. Years of hard-earned survival had taught her better than that. Instead, she let her breathing steady and her steps remain unhurried, even as her senses stretched outward. The rhythm of Limsa Lominsa flowed around her in layered currents: boots against stone, voices raised in laughter or argument, the distant cry of gulls wheeling above the docks. Somewhere within that living tide, another awareness moved in quiet parallel.

Blue followed at a measured distance, her pace unassuming, her presence easy to miss unless one knew what to feel for. She had hunted far more dangerous prey than this—monsters, men, and things that blurred the line between the two—but none had unsettled her quite like the figure ahead. The horns. The build. The unmistakable bearing. It was Aldra’s silhouette in every way that mattered… and yet not.Blue’s eyes flicked, cataloguing details without conscious thought. The way the woman favored her left side. The cadence of her stride. And the tail—thicker, more familiar in shape, like the one Aldra had borne before that quiet dinner with Alicia, before subtle changes had begun to take hold. Blue remembered that night clearly. Remembered Aldra’s laugh, the warmth of shared food, the quiet contentment of a future unfolding. This tail did not belong to the Aldra she knew now.

Ahead, Aldra felt the weight of that scrutiny press closer. She adjusted her pace by instinct alone, slowing just enough to let the crowd thicken around her, letting motion become camouflage. Old reflexes stirred—reflexes she wished she could forget. Lessons beaten into muscle memory under Garlean oversight. How to disappear without vanishing. How to move so that pursuit became uncertainty.East Hawker’s Alley opened before her in a surge of sound and color. Merchants called out prices, crates were hauled and stacked, bodies crossed and re-crossed in tight, shifting patterns. Aldra slipped into it as though she had always belonged there, letting the flow take her, matching strides, drifting just wide of the hunter’s line without ever drawing notice.For a single breath, the positions reversed.From that narrow window, Aldra studied her pursuer with practiced calm. The set of her shoulders. The controlled way her gaze swept the space, never lingering too long. Armor worn with familiarity rather than display.“A trained hunter,” Aldra thought. “And a paladin.”The realization brought neither fear nor comfort—only urgency.She waited for the precise moment when the crowd surged, when attention fractured in a dozen directions at once. Then she shifted course, subtle as a change in wind, and vanished between stalls and passing bodies, leaving behind nothing but borrowed space and fading impressions.

Blue halted seconds later.She turned slowly, scanning faces, reading the crowd as she always did—but the thread she had been following had gone slack in her hands. The woman was gone. No trace of panic. No careless trail. Only absence, clean and deliberate.Blue exhaled through her nose, a frown tugging at her lips. She knew what she had seen. And she knew, just as surely, that this had not been coincidence.Nearby—so close that fate itself seemed to hold its breath—this world’s Aldra walked with Alicia, their conversation light, their hands brushing as they gathered supplies for the café. Two lives, nearly identical, passed within the same streets, separated by nothing more than timing and silence.Freed from immediate pursuit, Aldra slowed at last, resting her back briefly against cool stone as she gathered herself. Limsa had given her answers—confirmation that this world mirrored her own in countless ways. But it had also given her new questions. Ones that could not be answered here, not with watchful eyes closing in.Shaaloani. The Dome. Solution 9.The thought of aetheryte travel set her pulse quickening again. This world’s aether did not yet feel properly bound to her, and the risk—especially now—was one she could not ignore. No. Not yet.A ship would be safer.With one last glance over her shoulder, Aldra turned toward the docks, unaware that the hunter she had eluded was already piecing together the truth—and that the choices made in these moments were drawing her ever closer to the brink that a choice would soon demand she cross.

The smell of sea spray thickened as Aldra neared the docks, mingling with oil, rope, and salt-worn stone. The cries of gulls cut sharply through the air, grounding her just long enough for her thoughts to drift—until one familiar presence pulled her attention away from the horizon.She froze.The woman ahead carried herself with a calm, measured confidence Aldra recognized instantly. Not through stance or training drills, but through memory—quiet conversations, careful guidance, the steady patience of someone who had once helped her learn how to feel when emotions themselves had been distant, fragmented things.Kané.Not exactly.Her hair was wrong—lighter than it should have been. Her eyes caught the light differently. And yet the shape of her aether, the cadence of her movement, the subtle way she paused before stepping forward—it mirrored Kané too closely to be coincidence. This world’s Kané, perhaps. The same soul shaped by different choices.Aldra’s chest tightened.After the battle with the Endless Sphene, Kané had stepped away from the Scions—not out of fear, but out of resolve. Pregnant, determined to protect the life she carried, she had chosen distance over danger. Aldra had understood. Still, the absence had left a quiet ache she had never fully named.Emotion surged faster than caution.“Kané—”The name left her lips before she could stop it, heavy with recognition and an unguarded warmth she rarely allowed herself.

The woman slowed.She had not seen who spoke, but the sound struck something deep and unsettling. The voice carried familiarity—too intimate, too precise to belong to a stranger—yet it did not align with any memory she could place. Kané’s brow furrowed as she turned her head slightly, convinced for a fleeting moment that exhaustion had finally caught up with her.Aldra realized her mistake instantly.Her pulse spiked, instincts snapping into place. She moved without thinking, stepping sideways into shadow, slipping into the open doorway of a nearby building with practiced control. Not training born of sparring halls or formal drills—but survival instincts sharpened under years of constraint, observation, and quiet adaptation.When Kané finally turned fully, there was no one there.Only the docks. Only strangers.Still, she lingered. That voice had carried something unmistakable—longing, relief, and a joy that did not belong to chance. It had sounded like Aldra… yet not the Aldra she knew. Not the one who walked safely somewhere else in this city, living her own uninterrupted life.After a moment, Kané exhaled and moved on, unsettled but unconvinced, the question following her like a half-remembered dream.

From the darkness, Aldra pressed her back to the wall, heart pounding hard enough to make her lightheaded. This world was closer than she had believed—its people, its echoes, its dangers overlapping with her own history in ways she could no longer dismiss.Blue had noticed her. Now Kané had nearly turned.Remaining unseen was becoming impossible.Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, toward the aetheryte—toward the risk she had sworn not to take lightly. She was not ready to use it. Not yet. The danger to herself—and to the life she carried—was too great to gamble on impulse alone.But as footsteps and voices carried faintly nearby, one truth settled with chilling clarity:Soon, hesitation would no longer be an option.And when that moment came, Aldra would have to choose between safety… and escape.

Aldra pressed herself farther into the shadowed recess of the doorway, stone cool and unyielding against her back. The noise of Limsa Lominsa rolled on just beyond the arch—boots on stone, gulls crying overhead, the low murmur of trade and laughter—but to her it all dulled beneath the pounding of her own pulse. Every breath felt measured now, deliberate, as though the city itself might hear her if she slipped.She had been calculating her next move—watching the flow of traffic, gauging sightlines, weighing how far she could slip along the wall unseen—when a voice drifted across the plaza and froze her blood.“Ah—Blue,” Kané said, warmth and curiosity woven together in that familiar cadence. “What brings you to Limsa today? I take it this isn’t a social call. You look like you’re hunting something… or someone.”Aldra’s breath caught painfully in her chest.Blue turned to face her, arms folding with practiced ease as her gaze swept the plaza. Even relaxed, she carried the bearing of a hunter—alert, grounded, present in every sense. “You could say that,” she replied evenly. “I saw someone who looked exactly like our Aldra. Same face. Same presence. But her tail…” Her brow furrowed. “It wasn’t right. It looked the way Aldra’s used to—before that dinner Alicia invited me to. Before everything changed.”The words struck deeper than Aldra expected. So even that detail had been noticed. Of course it had. Blue never missed what mattered.Kané’s expression shifted, surprise sharpening into concern. She glanced briefly toward the crowd before returning her attention to Blue. “You think someone is impersonating her?”“That was my first thought,” Blue admitted. “Using her likeness to make coin—or to cause trouble. I followed her for a bit, but she vanished into the crowd before I could be sure.”

From the darkness, Aldra’s thoughts raced. Blue had tracked her farther than she’d believed possible. Worse—she had noticed the aetheric difference, the subtle wrongness Aldra could never fully hide here. The city that had felt so comforting only hours ago now pressed in on her from all sides.Kané grew quiet, her gaze distant as another realization surfaced. “That’s… unsettling,” she said slowly. “Because earlier, I thought I heard Aldra call my name. Just once. The voice was hers—without question—but the tone…” She shook her head faintly. “It carried a kind of warmth. A happiness I wasn’t prepared for. When I turned around, there was no one there.”Aldra closed her eyes for a heartbeat, shame and longing twisting together in her chest.One word. One instinctive slip.Idiot.Kané continued, softer now, more thoughtful. “This may not be coincidence, Blue. I can’t rule out the possibility that this really was an Aldra. Just not ours.”Blue’s posture changed at once. The casual ease vanished, replaced by something sharper, more dangerous. Her senses flared outward, gaze narrowing as it swept past the crowd and settled—unerringly—on the shadowed doorway.“Kané,” she murmured. “There’s aether here. Draconic. Familiar.”Aldra’s heart slammed against her ribs.She had known this moment might come. Had feared it since the first step onto Limsa’s stone. Her options collapsed inward all at once. Running on foot would only delay the inevitable. A ship would take too long now. And aetheryte travel—Her thoughts snagged there.Too dangerous. Her aether wasn’t properly anchored to this world. One miscalculation could scatter her essence across the Lifestream—or strand her between places with no way back. She had sworn she wouldn’t risk it. Not yet.But Blue was already moving.Instinct overruled fear.Aldra reached inward, past doubt and restraint, grasping the fragile thread of resonance she’d been avoiding since her arrival. She focused hard—on Solution 9, on its structure, its pull, the way its aether had felt beneath her feet before.Please, she thought, not sure to whom she was praying. Hold.The air around her shimmered, turquoise light blooming for a single, suspended breath. The stone beneath her feet vibrated, a low hum building as draconic aether surged outward—too bright, too fast, barely contained.Then it collapsed inward.Aldra vanished in a rush of displaced air and fractured light, leaving behind only a fading echo that curled like smoke along the doorway’s edge.

Blue and Kané reached the threshold seconds later, stopping short as the last traces of aether dissipated into nothing.Blue stared at the empty space for a long moment—then let out a quiet, breathless laugh. Relief softened her expression, certainty settling in its wake. “Well,” she said, voice low, almost fond, “that answers one question. No one else carries aether like that. And our Aldra would never risk aetheryte travel in her condition.”Kané nodded slowly, arms folding as her gaze lingered on the scuffed stone where reality itself had bent. “Then it truly was another Aldra,” she said. “From somewhere else.”“Yes,” Blue agreed. “And for now, we say nothing. Not to Aldra. Not to Alicia. I won’t risk upsetting them—not with the child involved. If something goes wrong, Alicia is the first to know. Until then…” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “We watch.”Kané’s gaze drifted skyward, troubled and contemplative. “If there is another world,” she murmured, “then this raises more questions than answers. Why is she here? And was she alone?”Far from Limsa Lominsa, Aldra hurtled through unstable currents of aether, her form pulled and stretched by forces she could barely control. Solution 9 burned in her thoughts like a beacon—or a gamble she might yet regret.Behind her, in the sunlit city she’d left fractured in her wake, Blue and Kané stood in silence, bound by an unspoken understanding.The threads between worlds had been touched.And they would not easily be undone.

Fractured Reflections

While Aldra slipped through shadows and fractured aether in Limsa Lominsa, another thread was quietly tightening in Gridania.Y’shtola did not hurry.She had learned long ago that patience revealed more than force ever could.From beneath the canopy of the Twelveswood, she watched this world’s Aldra move through the city at an unhurried pace—measured not by exhaustion, but by care. The Gridanian stone paths glimmered faintly with filtered sunlight as Aldra walked, one hand resting protectively at the gentle curve of her belly, the other occupied with lists, pouches, and quiet adjustments to the weight she now carried.Four months along. Nearing the second trimester.Y’shtola catalogued the detail without emotion at first—an observation, nothing more. And yet her chest tightened all the same.Aldra slowed near one of the bridges, pausing just long enough to exhale and murmur softly, fingers brushing her abdomen with unconscious tenderness.
“Now, now… easy, little one,” she whispered, voice warm with practiced affection. “Your mum has errands to finish—for the café, and for you too. We’ll be home before you know it.”The words struck with surgical precision.Y’shtola had heard that tone before. Had felt it beside her in quiet moments, imagined rather than lived. She could see her Aldra in the same posture, the same instinctive gentleness—an echo of a future that had never come to pass.Her lips curved faintly, not in joy, but in longing sharpened to resolve.So it was possible.

She followed at a distance that betrayed no presence, moving through Gridania as easily as memory itself. The Carpenter’s Guild came first. Y’shtola waited outside, blending into the rhythm of passersby, counting minutes that stretched far longer than they should have.When Aldra emerged, she was already lifting a linkpearl.“My love,” Aldra said warmly, her smile softening the moment the connection opened. “The Carpenter’s Guild agreed—they’ll help with the baby’s things. Cradle, shelving, storage… all of it. That’s one worry off my list.”Y’shtola stilled.“How is everything in Solution 9?” Aldra continued, shifting her weight slightly. “Krile found her aunt? That’s wonderful news… truly. And Alphinaud and Alisaie are returning to Eorzea? I wouldn’t be surprised if Alisaie stops by the café again—she did love those sweet cakes and tea.”A pause. A laugh.“I have two more stops before heading home. I need to confirm the Addlers’ order for tonight and pick up the new cookbook that arrived. I’ll see you soon, Alicia. I love you.”The linkpearl dimmed.

Y’shtola let the silence linger.Every word aligned. Every detail mirrored paths she and her Aldra had once walked—before everything had broken, before Solution 9, before vows and returns and worlds crossed. Different timing. Different outcomes.But the same soul.“This world is connected to mine,” Y’shtola murmured under her breath. “Only… misaligned.”The Addlers’ Nest came next. Aldra was meticulous—confirming quantities, adjusting pairings, ensuring drinks complemented pastries and sandwiches alike. Her focus was absolute, her joy quiet but unmistakable. It gave Y’shtola the opening she needed.She approached Vorsaile Heuloix with practiced ease, conversation light, questions subtle. She listened carefully as he spoke of Gridania’s current state, of familiar events unfolding in the proper order—and of Aldra and Alicia, spoken of with respect and fondness.Everything she needed to know, gathered without suspicion.When Aldra finished, folding the order neatly and slipping it into a pouch that matched her skirt perfectly—a gift from Alicia, Y’shtola noted—she turned to leave, already engrossed in the thick, well-bound cookbook she had retrieved.

That was when Y’shtola moved.Aldra turned—and froze.The book slipped from her fingers, hitting the stone with a soft thud.Y’shtola saw the fear first. Then confusion. Then something far more fragile.“Y–Y’shtola?” Aldra stammered, instinctively drawing her hand back to her belly. “I—did I do something wrong?”The words cut deeper than expected.In that instant, Y’shtola understood. This Aldra did not stand beside her as a wife, nor even as a friend. Whatever had passed between them here had ended in distance—cold, unresolved, and deeply felt.Y’shtola knelt smoothly, retrieving the fallen book before Aldra could react. When she looked up, she wore a smile that was gentle, practiced… and false.“Oh, Aldra,” she said softly. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I thought it was time I came to see you—to speak properly. It has been a while, hasn’t it?”Aldra nodded slowly, disbelief warring with hope. She looked as though she might shatter or laugh—or both. For a heartbeat, she simply stood there, clutching at the reality of the moment.She had always wanted this. Had mourned it quietly when it was denied.And now it stood before her, offering reconciliation.Y’shtola rose, every movement deliberate.She had her opening.Aldra smiled, radiant and unguarded, unaware that the woman before her was not the Y’shtola she had known—nor the one she had once loved.And as they stood together beneath Gridania’s filtered light, one filled with hope, the other with purpose, the danger did not lie in what was said……but in what Y’shtola intended to learn next.

Aldra lingered where she stood long after Y’shtola had taken her leave, fingers still curled around the spine of the cookbook pressed protectively to her chest. The warmth of the encounter clung to her—unreal, fragile, and intoxicating. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had imagined it all: the softened smile, the familiar cadence of a voice she had once believed lost to her forever.Her heart beat faster as the truth settled in.Y’shtola had come to her.The thought alone was enough to make her tail flick faintly behind her skirt as she exhaled, steadying herself. For so long, she had carried the weight of regret in silence—never truly understanding why the woman who had once guided her, named her, and taught her how to recognize the shape of her own emotions had grown distant after Aldra brought Alicia into her life. She had believed, foolishly and painfully, that she had done something unforgivable simply by choosing love.Love she hadn’t even known how to name at the time.Aldra’s gaze drifted downward, her free hand resting instinctively against her belly as she smiled, warmth blooming beneath her palm. Alicia had taught her what love was—patiently, gently—through shared journeys, quiet nights, and the steady reassurance that Aldra was allowed to want happiness. Together, they had traveled to the Land of Morning Light, where Aldra had discovered herself anew beneath Koo Mihyun’s watchful guidance, her fox spirit mentor bearing witness as a half-dragon, half-fox soul learned to love without fear.And now—somehow—Y’shtola stood before her again.The realization filled Aldra with a courage she hadn’t expected. She drew in a breath, gathering her thoughts carefully before speaking, her voice soft but sincere.“Would you like to stop by my home sometime?” she asked, ears tilting back just slightly in nervous hope. “I feel like… we have a lot to catch up on. I’ve been on so many adventures, and—” Her gaze flicked briefly to Y’shtola’s hand, to the blue-gemmed ring that caught the light. “I’d love to hear about that ring. It looks like you found someone, too.”For a fraction of a second, Y’shtola stilled.Inside, something cold and sharp twisted beneath her composed exterior—but outwardly, she smiled, measured and warm, the image of the Y’shtola this Aldra believed she knew.“Yes,” she replied smoothly, dipping her head in a respectful bow. “I would like that very much, Aldra. When would be a good time? I’d be happy to speak of my partner… and the path that led me there.”The words were carefully chosen. Not a single unnecessary detail. Not a single truth too far.Aldra’s face brightened, relief and joy washing over her as she nodded. “Tomorrow, then. Stop by whenever you like—we can talk properly.”They parted moments later, Aldra turning toward home with a lightness in her step she hadn’t felt in years, while Y’shtola remained where she was, watching until the young dragon mother disappeared from view.

The sight warmed her heart more than she had anticipated.It was impossible not to see the ache Aldra carried—the longing for reconciliation, the quiet grief of believing she had been rejected without ever knowing why. Y’shtola clenched her gloved hand at her side, guilt stirring uncomfortably beneath her resolve.She dreamed of this, Y’shtola realized. Of reconnecting. Of having me in her child’s life.The knowledge both softened and hardened her resolve in equal measure.Eventually, Y’shtola turned away, lifting her linkpearl as she walked—only to be met with silence. No reply. No familiar presence answering back. She frowned faintly, dismissing the unease as she assumed her wife was simply occupied elsewhere, gathering information as planned.Unaware of what had transpired in Limsa Lominsa.Unaware of the gamble Aldra had taken—of the violent pull of unstable aether and the uncertainty of whether her beloved had arrived safely at all.Y’shtola made her way to the Carline Canopy as dusk settled over Gridania, the inn’s warm glow welcoming her in. She chose a quiet table and allowed herself a rare indulgence, lifting a glass of red wine and watching the liquid catch the light as her thoughts churned.I must be careful, she reminded herself. She already knows I am married. The ring makes that unavoidable.Her lips curved faintly. “I can say I married a dragon,” she murmured under her breath. “Just… not her name.”She took a slow sip, eyes closing briefly as she allowed herself to imagine it—their Aldra, carrying new life, the impossible made real. The sight of this world’s Aldra at the café nights before had ignited something fierce and unyielding within her.“My love,” she whispered softly to the empty space before her, “I will find a way. If her counterpart could do this, then it is possible. I only need to understand how.”Her glass emptied soon after, and Y’shtola retired for the night, resolve settled firmly in her chest.

Morning came bright and fragrant, Gridania alive with birdsong and the scent of flowers as Y’shtola made her way toward Aldra’s home. Each step brought a quiet tension with it—questions rehearsed, boundaries carefully drawn. She would not rush. She would not push. The truth would come with patience.Aldra’s home soon came into view, sunlight spilling across the garden where a small gazebo stood nestled among greenery. There, Aldra sat quietly, hands folded over her belly, a peaceful smile gracing her features as she lost herself in thought.Y’shtola slowed, watching from a distance.The encounter yesterday had helped her. That much was undeniable.I will help her, Y’shtola decided, even as another truth lingered unspoken. Until I have what I need.She approached at last, sensing the warmth that radiated from the young dragon mother—hope, happiness, trust. Her heart tightened with worry as she stepped closer, knowing how precarious this balance truly was.Still, she smiled.The winds of change moved gently now, threading between worlds.One Aldra raced through unstable aether toward an uncertain destination.Another welcomed a familiar face, unaware of the truth hidden behind it.And only a few—Y’shtola, her wife, her Aldra, Blue, and Kané—stood aware of just how fragile these converging paths truly were.

Gentle Lies, Earnest Hearts

Y’shtola let her expression soften into something warm—carefully measured, convincingly familiar—as she watched the other Aldra drift in her own thoughts. The patio felt almost too peaceful for what Y’shtola carried in her chest: a tight coil of purpose, restraint, and longing she refused to name.“Aldra… Aldra… Aldra.”The gentle call snapped Aldra back to the moment so abruptly she jolted in her chair, ears flicking, tail giving a startled twitch. Then, as recognition caught up, her face brightened like the sun breaking through cloud.“Y’shtola!” Aldra pressed a hand to her chest and laughed at herself, breathless. “I—sorry. I was lost in thought.” Her smile turned radiant, as if it pained her to hold any joy back. “Alicia said there’s going to be a coronation tonight—the Grand Champion for the Ascension Arcadia Championship. She told me I had to watch.” Aldra leaned forward, eager, inviting. “Please—take a seat. I made fresh tea. We can talk.”Y’shtola sat opposite her, posture composed, hands folded with practiced elegance. Her gaze, however, kept betraying her—dragged, again and again, to Aldra’s belly. Four months. Second trimester. The visible proof of a miracle Y’shtola’s own world had denied her.

The question she truly wanted to ask pressed against her tongue like something poisonous.Not yet.Instead, she chose a safer opening—one that could sound like kindness.“Aldra, dear… what made you fall in love with Alicia? Was it the adventures? Or… something else?”Aldra’s cheeks flushed instantly. She set her cup down as though her hands suddenly didn’t know what to do with themselves, then smiled—soft, reverent, completely unguarded.“Alicia…” she breathed, like the name itself steadied her. “You helped me first, you know. You taught me emotions—happiness, sadness, loneliness—how they feel and how they change a person.” Her eyes shimmered with gratitude, not just toward Y’shtola, but toward the past that shaped her. “When Alicia and I met, she was still adjusting to being the Warrior of Light. We traveled together, and she… she showed me the world. The small wonders. The beautiful things worth protecting.”Aldra’s voice warmed as she spoke, as if every memory was a candle she could relight.“She taught me how to love—how to cherish and be cherished. She decided to be my knight, always at my side. And when I wanted to find myself—my homeland, the Land of the Morning Light—she came with me. We met my mentor, Koo Mihyun… and I learned about the fox spirit side of me. Alicia stayed through all of it. Helping others alongside me. Never once treating my questions or my confusion like a burden.”Aldra laughed softly, embarrassed by how openly she glowed. “And the strange part is… I thought I would be the one protecting her. My heart kept pulling me toward that.” She looked down, fingers brushing her cup. “But she protected me. She made me feel safe.”Y’shtola listened with the careful stillness of someone collecting delicate glass. So much of it mirrored the path she knew—except for one devastating difference.This Aldra didn’t go alone.That single change rippled outward in Y’shtola’s mind, transforming everything that followed—every fracture, every mistake.A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. The first cold drops of rain pattered against the table. Aldra’s ears twitched toward the sound…and then her expression shifted, as though the storm had reached inside her.“I… I need to apologize,” Aldra said suddenly. Her voice wavered. “About you. About… years ago.”Y’shtola’s spine tightened. She kept her face gentle.Aldra blinked hard, and tears spilled anyway—quiet, honest, long overdue. “I didn’t ask about your feelings. I didn’t even realize there were feelings to ask about until months later—after you told me to leave you alone.” Her breathing hitched. “I didn’t understand love then. I thought you were just… being kind. Friendly. You gave me my name. You taught me so much. I thought that was all it was.”Aldra pressed trembling fingers to her mouth, trying to catch herself, but the apology had been caged too long.“I’m so, so sorry.”Y’shtola reached out before she could stop herself, brushing a tear from Aldra’s cheek with a tenderness that felt undeserved. “Aldra… it’s alright.” Her voice stayed warm, even as something sharp scraped inside her. “Our duties made it difficult. We both let time do the talking when we should have spoken.”The rain thickened quickly, the sky turning heavy and dark. Aldra rose with a little laugh through tears, wiping her cheeks. “Well—guess now is a good time to show you Alicia and my home.”

They hurried inside together, skirts and sleeves catching droplets, the world briefly reduced to the sound of rain and rushing footsteps. Aldra guided her through the rooms with shy pride—pointing out little touches, small comforts, the places she and Alicia had shaped into theirs. She avoided the bedroom with a kind of careful embarrassment, steering them instead to the living room where they could sit, dry off, and breathe.And there, with the storm outside and warmth inside, Aldra relaxed—like she’d set down a weight she’d carried for years.Y’shtola, however, felt the opposite.The more Aldra softened, the more dangerous this became.Aldra’s gaze drifted to the ring on Y’shtola’s hand.“So…” Aldra smiled, voice gentle, curious. “That ring. When did you meet your partner? What made you fall in love—and get married?”Y’shtola’s pulse kicked once, hard. She tensed—only for a fraction of a moment—then smoothed her expression into calm. She chose each word like stepping stones across a river.“My partner is… a dragon,” she said carefully. “Sweet. Caring. She struggled with emotions, as you did. I loved her from afar for a long time… and I buried it. I told myself it was easier—safer—to keep distance.”

Her voice grew quieter, darker at the edges. “But when I saw her becoming reckless—trying to end every fight at any cost—I… lost my way. I wanted to protect her so badly that obsession took root. I did things I should not have done.”Aldra listened, expression softening with empathy.“In Matoya’s Relict,” Y’shtola continued, letting the truth almost show, without exposing names or details that could unravel her disguise, “I heard her confession. It brought me back. I chose to love her properly—openly. I chose to earn back what I damaged.”Her hand tightened around her cup. “She saved me. I saved her. We became… whole.”Aldra’s brow furrowed, thoughts visibly turning. “A dragon… repressed feelings… reckless fighter…” she murmured, more to herself than to Y’shtola. The resemblance was too close. The shape of the story pressed against the edges of belief.Then she forced herself to smile, as if laughter could push doubt away. “That’s… I’m happy for you. Truly. I’m glad you found someone who cherishes you.”Y’shtola met her gaze and managed a look of genuine care—because that part, at least, was real.You are like my Aldra. More than you know.

Outside, the rain continued. Inside, Aldra rose slowly, one hand drifting to her belly with instinctive tenderness.“Little one,” she murmured, voice bright with affection, “it’s time to check our dinner. I think Aunt Y’shtola will truly love the meal.”The words struck Y’shtola harder than any accusation could have. She looked away for a heartbeat, swallowing the sharp ache behind her ribs, then followed Aldra into the kitchen.

The Truth That Should Not Be Taken

The kitchen was warm and alive with comforting scents. Aldra moved at a slower pace now—carefully, patiently—her body making its quiet demands as she entered her fourth month. Yet nothing about her diligence dulled. If anything, the careful attention she gave each task felt like devotion made visible.
Two glasses of tea waited—fresh ice clinking softly, lime perched at the rim like a small celebration.Aldra checked the stove, humming under her breath. “I hope you’re hungry,” she said, glancing over with an eager smile. “I wanted to make a special meal for you.”
Y’shtola leaned lightly against the counter, watching. Studying. Measuring every motion.Aldra’s hands moved with practiced love: beef tacos laid out with care, rice steamed to perfect softness, a mildly spiced pork soup meant to pair with both. A pie cooled nearby—golden, fragrant, made as though affection itself were an ingredient.“As Alisaie said,” Aldra added brightly, “you loved the tacos and soup in Tuliyollal.”Y’shtola’s smile didn’t falter, but the lie she had to wear tasted bitter. “Alisaie knows me well,” she replied smoothly. “I can’t wait to try your version.”
Aldra practically glowed at that, as if she’d been given permission to be delighted.

When the food was ready, Aldra set the table with meticulous pride. Every dish was arranged as though she were hosting someone precious—someone she’d missed.They sat together, and Y’shtola took her first bite.
Her eyes widened despite herself.It was truly good. Not just edible, not just competent—warm and layered and deeply comforting, the kind of meal that made a person feel cared for. Y’shtola swallowed the ache that followed, because the taste reminded her too sharply of what she wished she’d had time for in her own world: peace, a table, a life not built entirely on vigilance.Aldra watched her face with hopeful intensity—reading every flicker.“Aldra…” Y’shtola murmured, letting honest admiration slip through. “This is amazing.”Aldra’s shoulders rose as if she was physically trying to hold her excitement inside. “R-really?”“Truly,” Y’shtola confirmed, voice softer. “You’ve outdone yourself. Sweets at the café… and now this. You’ve adjusted well to motherhood.”
Aldra’s hand drifted to her belly again, protective and tender, as if the compliment warmed more than just her heart.
Y’shtola stared at that gesture—at the proof—and felt her true question sharpen again.How?

Instead, she asked something safer, something disguised as curiosity but aimed like a blade.“May I ask…” Y’shtola said lightly, watching Aldra over the rim of her cup, “before you met Alicia… did you ever have feelings for me?”Aldra froze for a moment—just long enough for the question to feel wrong in the air. Then she exhaled slowly.“I… did,” Aldra admitted, voice quiet. “But I didn’t know what it was. Not then.” She lifted her gaze, expression raw with honesty. “You gave me my name. You helped me become someone real. And there were moments… where something inside me pulled toward you, and I didn’t have words for it.”She listed them like prayer beads—Ul’dah, the Bloody Banquet, the fear of losing the Scions, the relief when Y’shtola returned, the terror of Zenos, the ache of the First, the need to save everyone she loved.“But,” Aldra said firmly—gentle, but unshakeable, “I wouldn’t change my choice. I love Alicia. She is my everything. My anchor.” Her smile trembled with emotion. “And now… with this child… she is my world.”Y’shtola nodded, expression careful, respectful.
And for a moment, she meant it.After they finished eating, Y’shtola helped clean without being asked. She rinsed dishes, dried plates, moved through Aldra’s home like she belonged there—like she hadn’t slipped into a life that wasn’t hers.

When everything was put away, they returned to the living room to watch the coronation broadcast.The screen flickered to life—bright lights, roaring crowd, the polished spectacle of Solution 9’s Ascension Arcadia. Aldra sat forward at once, excitement visible in every line of her posture.Then the announcer’s voice filled the room—Metem, booming with showman energy.
“Ladies and gentlemen! With the battles ended and the dust settled, we have crowned a new Grand Champion! While our previous upstart Aldra stepped away due to personal reasons, her wife—Alicia ‘Wild’ Rose—entered the fray, ferocious as her namesake! She climbed to the top and dismantled the President’s diabolical plans—ushering in a new future for the Arcadion! No regulators. No feral souls. Without further ado—welcome our undisputed reigning Grand Champion—ALICIA ‘WILD’ ROSE!”Alicia appeared on-screen, proud and radiant beneath the lights.Aldra beamed so brightly it was almost painful to look at her.
But beneath that joy, something else stirred—an instinct she couldn’t explain. A chill skated along her spine, like her body had sensed a misstep in the world’s rhythm.Y’shtola noticed immediately.Aldra’s hand hovered near her linkpearl without her realizing it.
Then the arena sky on the broadcast split with a surge of draconian aether—violent, unmistakable, and wrong in a way that made Y’shtola’s breath catch.
A figure dropped into the ring like a meteor—landing with force that kicked dust outward, yet left the floor intact.Y’shtola knew who it was the instant she felt that aether.Her Aldra.Alicia turned on-screen, smile collapsing into alert concern. She didn’t have weapons—she hadn’t expected a threat at her back.
Beside Y’shtola, the pregnant Aldra went rigid.
Her eyes locked onto the figure behind Alicia.The face was hers.But the tail—Thick black, armored with turquoise-glowing segments. The shape Aldra remembered from before that dinner with Alicia and Blue—before her own change.
Aldra’s breath stuttered. Her world tilted.She turned toward Y’shtola, voice trembling with fear she couldn’t hide.
“Y’shtola… tell me the truth.” Her words came out broken, desperate. “Is your partner’s name… Aldra too? Are you—are you my Y’shtola… or are you from another world?”

For a heartbeat, Y’shtola almost answered softly.
Then she saw the opening—wide, raw, and perfect.And the hunger she’d been holding back sharpened into cold resolve.
“Aldra,” Y’shtola said, voice turning unnervingly calm, “if you want the proper answer—answer me this.” Her gaze pinned Aldra in place. “How did Alicia get you pregnant?”Aldra recoiled as if struck. Tears sprang up instantly, confusion warring with fear. She was used to being strong—used to having a blade, a shield, something. Now she had none of it. Only her body, her child, and the sudden realization that the woman beside her might not be who she claimed.“I—I only know…” Aldra choked, hands trembling. “Alicia knows a… technique. Something that lets her body… change, temporarily. That’s how.”
Y’shtola’s eyes narrowed—not cruel, but searching. “A spell, then.”“I never needed it,” Aldra whispered, crying now. “So I never asked. I never wanted it. Why are you asking me this?”
Y’shtola exhaled—slow, controlled.
“For my Aldra,” she said quietly, the truth slipping through at last in the smallest crack. “Because you being pregnant means my wife might have hope.”Aldra stared at her as if the words had shattered the room.Y’shtola lifted her hand, mana gathering—gentle, precise.Aldra’s eyes widened. “No—wait—”The spell settled over her like falling snow.

Y’shtola caught her before she could slump awkwardly, easing her down onto the couch with care so deliberate it almost looked like love.
Before Aldra’s consciousness fully slipped away, Y’shtola leaned closer, voice low—no longer acting for the mask, but speaking to the truth of what she’d stolen.“I wish your Y’shtola was here,” she murmured. “These words should be hers, not mine.” Her hand brushed Aldra’s hair back, a tenderness that made her throat tighten. “You are sweet. You carried this regret for too long. I hope you reconnect with her… truly.”Aldra’s lashes fluttered. The tension in her face softened as sleep took her.
“Rest well,” Y’shtola whispered, voice breaking in the smallest way. “Sweet dragon mother.”When Aldra was fully asleep, Y’shtola checked her carefully—breathing steady, posture safe, belly rising and falling in gentle rhythm. She placed a hand lightly over the life growing there, confirming what her senses already knew: the child was unharmed.Then she stood.Her expression turned distant—not triumphant, not relieved, but burdened.She had her answer.And now, with that answer, she knew exactly how dangerous the next step could become.Y’shtola wiped a single tear before it could fall, and slipped out into the rain-darkened world—already thinking of analysis spells, lingering traces, and the thin line between hope and obsession.

Threads That Should Not Meet

A Crown Beneath a Fractured Sky

The roar of the crowd rolled through the Ascension Arcadia like thunder given voice—layer upon layer of cheers crashing together as Alicia raised her arm in triumph. Light from the arena’s towering displays washed over her in vivid hues of magenta and blue, reflecting off polished steel and the gleaming sigils of victory. To those watching, this was the culmination of strength, resolve, and spectacle: the coronation of the undisputed Grand Champion.No one noticed the shift at first.High above the arena floor, the air thickened—subtle, wrong. Draconic aether stirred, curling like heat haze against the lights. It carried a resonance that did not belong to this place, nor to this world.Then reality buckled.A flash of turquoise fractured the air, and Aldra fell from nothingness into the heart of the arena.She struck the floor with a heavy thud, dust and light bursting outward in a sharp ring. The impact rattled the stands, yet the arena itself held—no cracks, no shattered stone, as though the place had instinctively braced for her arrival. Aldra dropped to one knee, palm pressed to the floor, breath sharp in her lungs as the last echoes of unstable aetheryte travel tore through her aether.She lifted her head slowly.The Arcadion.Recognition struck her all at once. This was the same arena where she had fought—bled—to become Grand Champion in her own world. Where she had broken the chains of feral souls and forced the Ascension Arcadia to reckon with what it had become. The banners were familiar. The geometry of the floor. Even the distant glow of the broadcast platforms.She had made it to Solution 9.Just not where she intended.Her ears twitched as a familiar voice reached her—muted, frantic, carried through a live broadcast feed only one man could hear.“Aldra?!”Metem.She did not look toward him. Her attention had already locked onto the center of the ring.Alicia stood there—this world’s Aldra's wife—poised and radiant beneath the lights, her posture guarded now, instincts clearly screaming that something was wrong. She had not turned. Not yet. But Aldra knew that if she did, everything would shatter in an instant.There was no time to think.Aldra moved.She rose in a fluid motion, drawing on muscle memory forged in captivity and blood—skills learned when survival demanded silence and speed. She cut across the edge of the stage, slipping between sightlines before the crowd could fully register her presence as anything more than spectacle or error. In seconds she was gone, blurring past the green room and out through the service corridors of the Arcadion.The cheers never stopped.

Outside, the world snapped back into motion—and Aldra ran.She collided hard with someone rounding a corner, barely slowing as she rebounded and kept moving. Behind her, Yaana staggered, eyes wide.“Aldra…?”The name followed her like a blade between the shoulders. Aldra gasped, but did not look back. Too many people here knew that face. She veered sharply down a side street, heart hammering as she scanned for refuge.A clothing shop—open, unassuming.She slipped inside.Only once the door closed did she pause, pressing her back to the wall and forcing her breathing to slow. The clerk barely glanced up as Aldra approached, hood drawn low, voice steady despite the chaos still echoing in her bones. She was directed to a display of complete ensembles—ready-made, discreet, efficient.She did not linger.

When Aldra emerged, she was no longer the figure who had fallen from the sky.The outfit she wore spoke of restraint and quiet authority: a crisp white blouse, long-sleeved and immaculate, paired with a narrow black tie and a fitted black corset cinched tight with metal buckles. A high-waisted pleated skirt fell neatly over dark stockings, subtle garters holding everything in place. Gloves and boots matched in sleek black, utilitarian rather than ornate. Ready.She dispelled the glamour on her wedding ring, the blue gem fading back into the familiar green she had always worn.Only then did she notice her.Y’shtola.This world’s Y’shtola moved down the street with purpose, unaware of Aldra’s presence. Instinct flared—Aldra nearly called out before she caught herself. Her gaze dropped to Y’shtola’s hand.No blue gem.Understanding settled like cold water in her chest. This Y’shtola was not hers—and she was headed somewhere Aldra could not follow. Toward Shale. Toward answers Aldra did not want to be seen seeking.She waited until Y’shtola disappeared from view, then turned away.The western side of the Nexus Arcade offered what she needed: anonymity, terminals, information. Aldra moved carefully now, keeping to the edges of foot traffic, senses still frayed from Limsa—still haunted by how easily Blue and Kané had felt her aether there.At the Aetheryte Plaza, she stopped.

Her hand rested against the crystal, attuning with deliberate care. Even a single safe anchor mattered now. Only then did she continue on to the terminals, removing one glove as she placed her hand against the screen.Access granted.The data unfolded before her—Oblivion Group records, public events, threat logs. Calyx. Endless Sphene. Wuk Lamat’s brother. All accounted for. All familiar.Too familiar.Everything matched her world.Everything—except the Arcadion.In her world, she had claimed the title a month after Calyx fell. Here, the coronation was happening tonight.“So the path is the same,” Aldra murmured softly, eyes narrowing. “Only the timing has shifted.”A comforting truth. And a dangerous one.She remained unaware of the figure passing behind her—Gek, recently returned from her journey to Jeuno and the other world's First Shard, satisfied and distracted, carrying knowledge that would soon collide with hers. They did not see one another. The moment slipped by unnoticed.For now.Aldra continued her research, steadying herself against the hum of neon and data, unaware of how close the threads were drawing together—or how many eyes were already beginning to turn.Across worlds, truths were being concealed.And none of them would stay hidden for long.

What Was Left Unsaid

Y’shtola moved through the illuminated streets of Solution 9 with measured steps, her pace unhurried but her thoughts anything but calm. The hum of the city—voices, machinery, distant celebrations echoing from the Arcadion—blurred together as she walked. She told herself she was returning to the backroom to continue her work on the Key, that there was still too much to analyze, too many variables unanswered.And yet, her path bent toward a small bar along the way.She allowed herself this pause—not as indulgence, but as necessity.

As she took her seat outside, a glass of red wine placed before her, her mind drifted unbidden to a memory she had tried for years to keep buried.Aldra.Two years had passed since that day, and still Y’shtola could recall every detail with painful clarity—the way Aldra had approached her, hopeful, nervous, eager to introduce the woman she loved. Alicia. Her partner. Her future. And Y’shtola, already raw from realizing she had been too late to voice her own feelings, had responded not with grace… but with anger.She had shouted.She had told Aldra to leave.The look on Aldra’s face in that moment—shock, confusion, hurt—was carved into Y’shtola’s memory more deeply than any scar. She had meant none of it, and yet she had said all of it. Love, once delayed, had curdled into bitterness, and she had lashed out rather than accept the truth: Aldra’s heart had already chosen another.Since then, distance had become habit.They had crossed paths in the same cities, stood on the same soil, fought the same battles—but never together. Any words meant for Aldra were passed through others. Instructions. Information. Logistics. Never apologies. Never pride. Never the simple truth she carried with her every day—that she was glad Aldra had found happiness, even if it was not with her.Y’shtola lowered her gaze to the surface of her wine, watching the faint reflections ripple as her fingers brushed the glass.“I wonder what you’re doing now,” she murmured under her breath.
“Are you safe…? Are you well?”She did not know that Aldra was with child. No one had told her.Alphinaud, remembering her outburst years ago, had chosen silence over risk. Others followed suit—not out of cruelty, but uncertainty. None of them knew how Y’shtola would react to such news, whether it would reopen wounds or deepen them. And so, she remained unaware, assuming Aldra’s absence was simply distance… or choice.“It’s been four months,” she whispered, recalling what little she had heard. Aldra had returned home for personal reasons. Alicia had continued assisting where she could, stepping into danger with unwavering resolve. Y’shtola had noticed. She had said nothing.She took a measured sip, not to drown her sorrow, but to quiet it—just enough to keep functioning.Work had become her refuge. The Key, Preservation’s archives, the theory of shard-crossing aether—these were problems she could solve. Equations she could unravel. Feelings, however, offered no such clarity.For a fleeting moment, she felt a prickle along her senses.As though she were being watched.Her eyes lifted instinctively, scanning the street, the reflections of neon light and passing figures. Nothing. No one. The sensation faded as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only unease.Unbeknownst to her, another Aldra—not her Aldra—stood at a distance, watching in silence. Assessing. And choosing, wisely, not to linger.Y’shtola finished her wine and rose from her seat, gathering herself behind the familiar composure others expected of her. By the time she returned to the backroom, her expression was once again controlled, her emotions carefully folded away.

Shale noticed anyway.They always did.“We’re still combing through Preservation’s data,” Shale said gently, shifting the focus before Y’shtola could speak. “But progress is steady. Your insights have been invaluable.”Y’shtola inclined her head, offering a tired smile that did not quite reach her eyes. She was holding together by routine alone.Then Shale added, almost casually, “Gek sent word. They’re returning from Jeuno and should be here shortly to give their report.”The timing felt… heavy.Moments later, Gek arrived, greeting both of them with familiar ease. Their gaze lingered on Y’shtola for only a second before softening, perceptive as ever.

“Y’shtola,” Gek said kindly, “you should try to reconnect with Aldra.”The words struck deeper than expected.“She would never push you away. Not truly,” Gek continued. “If you’re hurting over that day… chances are she is too. She’s just better at hiding it.”Y’shtola said nothing at first. Her eyes widened slightly, her thoughts spiraling inward.Is that true?
Could she forgive me?
Do I even deserve the chance to ask?“…Perhaps,” Y’shtola murmured at last, turning back toward the terminal displays. “But first, we finish this.”Duty, once again, took precedence over the heart.None of them knew—none of them yet understood—how many threads were already crossing. Another Y’shtola wearing a familiar face. Another Aldra fleeing through the same city. A coronation disrupted. A world quietly bending under the weight of secrets.And Gek’s report—of Jeuno, of the First, of a journey that should never have crossed worlds at all—would soon reveal just how close everything had come to unraveling.

Convergences Unseen

Y’shtola turned her attention fully to Gek, the faint steadiness in her posture returning after the hunter’s quiet reassurance. It did not erase the ache in her chest, but it gave it shape—something she could endure rather than be consumed by.“Gek,” Y’shtola said evenly, though her voice carried an edge of urgency, “tell us of your journey to Jeuno. Were there any confirmed reports of individuals arriving or departing with memories that did not align with this world—as if they did not belong to it?”Gek shook her head slowly. “No,” she replied, her tone calm but regretful. “Every soul I questioned gave the same answer. No strange behavior. No misplaced memories. Even the commander of the royal knights reported nothing unusual—only that they would remain vigilant should anything arise.”She paused, her expression shifting. “But that was not the strangest part of my journey.”Y’shtola inclined her head slightly, inviting her to continue.“When I departed Jeuno,” Gek went on, “I stopped briefly in Gridania for a meal. That was when something felt… wrong. Subtle at first. As though the world itself had shifted half a step out of alignment.” Her brow furrowed at the memory. “I decided then to head for Solution 9 to find you. Along the way, I overheard Alisaie and Alphinaud speaking over their linkpearls—reports of an aether fluctuation on the First.”Shale straightened at that.

“So I diverted,” Gek continued, “and traveled to the Crystarium. When I arrived, the disturbance proved relatively benign—residual aether adjusting as the First continued to recover. Not just light this time, but other aspects returning to balance. I stabilized what I could, drew the excess into empty crystals, and entrusted them to Ryne.”She exhaled softly. “But even that was not the oddest part.”Y’shtola offered her a small, encouraging smile. “Please,” she said gently. “Do not spare details.”Gek returned the smile and nodded. “Afterward, I went to the markets to eat. And there—in the center of the plaza—I saw you. And Aldra.”The air in the room seemed to tighten.“Not you,” Gek clarified, glancing between Y’shtola and Shale. “Versions of you both. Married, unmistakably so. The ring on Y’shtola’s hand. The way they looked at one another—no uncertainty, no distance.”Y’shtola’s fingers curled slowly at her side.“I called out to Aldra,” Gek continued, “to confirm whether she was ours—or another. That was when I noticed her tail. Still fox-shaped. Not as I last saw our Aldra.”Gek’s lips curved faintly. “She challenged me to a spar. Not out of hostility—but to understand me, and for me to understand her. I accepted.”As she spoke, her expression softened with memory.“She fought with intention. Control. Every strike a question. Every parry an answer. When our fists met, I felt something stir within her—a pressure building, like a tide turning. And when we collided head-to-head, the first change came.”Shale listened intently. Y’shtola said nothing, afraid that if she spoke, her voice would falter.“That change mirrored the Aldra I last knew,” Gek said. “And it drove us onward. Faster. Stronger. We laughed—gods help us, we laughed—as the fight filled us both with purpose.”She drew a breath.“When our fists met again—mine to her face, hers to mine—it triggered a second change. Her tail reshaped itself once more, thick and armored, threaded with turquoise light. Her eyes shifted with it.”Y’shtola’s heart clenched.“We continued,” Gek said quietly. “Not to dominate. To acknowledge. Each strike an I understand. Each parry an I see you.”Her smile faded. “That was when this world’s Y’shtola intervened. She ended the match.”

Gek straightened. “I explained the situation of the First. Then I returned to Jeuno. And there—I felt it. The convergence. When it passed, I realized I had come back to our world. I reported immediately and made for Solution 9.”Silence followed.Y’shtola’s thoughts churned painfully. Another Y’shtola. Another Aldra. Married. Happy. Everything she had denied herself through fear and regret. She forced the emotion down, knowing the implications of such crossings were far too dangerous to ignore. What if someone from that world came here? What if they harmed Aldra—her Aldra—the friend she had failed when it mattered most?She swallowed it down.Focus, she told herself. If this is happening… then Aldra could be in danger.Shale spoke at last, her voice thoughtful but troubled. “If Jeuno is a focal point for this convergence, it must be monitored. But travel itself could trigger displacement. Preventing it may be impossible—ending it even more so.”“So how do we know,” she continued, turning to Gek, “if others like us have already crossed over?”Gek considered this. “We wouldn’t,” she admitted. “Not unless we encountered them directly—or someone who knows us noticed inconsistencies. Behavior. Mannerisms. Small things.”For a fleeting moment, Gek went still. She felt it then—a familiar pressure against her senses. Not close enough to pinpoint, not sharp enough to follow. Just a resonance. Draconic. Old. She said nothing, dismissing the sensation inwardly even as unease settled in her chest.

Y’shtola spoke quietly, unaware of Gek’s private realization. “Earlier tonight, while I was at the bar, I had the strange feeling that I was being watched. But when I turned, there was no one there. This city is saturated with aether—lightning especially. It makes subtle signatures difficult to trace.”Before either could respond, Shale’s linkpearl chimed.She listened, expression tightening.“Understood,” Shale said at last, closing the connection. “We’ve received a report from the Arcadion. During Alicia’s coronation as undisputed Grand Champion… a stranger appeared. Dropped into the arena from above.”Y’shtola’s breath caught.“They did not attack. Did not speak,” Shale continued. “They moved with extreme speed and fled the arena immediately. Eyewitness accounts place them somewhere in Solution 9.”Gek’s grin returned, sharp with anticipation. “Then it seems this convergence is no longer theoretical.”She turned to leave. “I need to stop in Gridania. There’s something I must deliver—and someone I should check on.”Y’shtola caught the implication at once. “Aldra,” she said softly. “Please. See if she is well. If you find Alicia, ask her to come here when she can. I… I will try to speak with Aldra myself once I’m able.”As Gek turned to leave, none of them realized just how close the truth already was—how many threads had begun to tighten at once. Another Aldra. Another Y’shtola. Actions already taken. And one more traveler, drawn by curiosity, about to arrive in Gridania and pull yet another strand into the convergence.

A Familiar Presence, Far Too Soon

Meanwhile in Gridania, rain fell in steady sheets as a lone figure passed beneath the boughs, the storm masking her quiet return.“Finally back to Gridania… the trip to Jeuno and back was longer than I thought. This storm crept up on me,” she murmured to herself.Kané had come out of curiosity. An old Scion contact had spoken of strange matters unfolding in Jeuno—reports of memories that did not align, of people who felt out of place. The mention alone had drawn her attention, especially knowing Aldra and Y’shtola had once been tied to such assignments. Some part of her had hoped, foolishly perhaps, that she might glimpse the student she had raised like a daughter after so long apart.Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the battle with Endless Sphene. Aldra had fought fiercely, stubbornly, and come away battered but alive. Kané had carried life within her at the time, and that truth had changed everything. The moment she learned she was with child, she chose to step away from the Scions after the battle’s end. Aldra had been happy for her—radiant, even—but Kané had felt the ache of departure all the same, the quiet grief of leaving behind a role that had defined her and a student she still loved deeply.She remembered how she and Y’shtola had worked together to teach Aldra what the world truly was—beyond rage, beyond survival. When Minfilia, Y’shtola, and Yda freed Aldra from Garlean control at Castrum Centri, Aldra had known little beyond hatred and fury. Kané had helped guide her through gentler truths: patience, compassion, choice. To walk away from that bond had been the hardest part of all.Y’shtola had never blamed Kané for Aldra’s scars or for her returning from the fight exhausted and bloodied. If anything, Kané suspected Alisaie and Alphinaud had shielded the truth, insisting Aldra had fought alone as they always tried—and failed—to convince her to accept help. Still, Kané had seen neither Aldra or Y'shtola in Jeuno during her inquiries. No one there spoke of convergence, of travelers from other worlds, or of memories that did not belong. Each answer had led nowhere.“Come on, Kané,” she thought softly. “We can’t just stand in the rain… even if it’s peaceful.”

She turned toward the Carline Canopy, seeking shelter and a moment’s rest. Inside, she lingered near the entrance, watching the rain streak past lanternlight, breathing in the damp, earthy scent of Gridania after a long road. Tavern chatter washed over her until a familiar name cut through the noise.Aldra.Outside, the Y’shtola of her world walked the paths in quiet thought, Kané overhearing two adventurers nearby.“You’ve been to Aldra’s café, right?” one asked. “I’ve been thinking of stopping by.”“Oh, absolutely,” the other replied with an easy laugh. “The food’s wonderful, and Aldra and her staff are so kind. They’ll tailor anything on the menu for you. It feels like home.”Kané smiled without realizing it. Unaware she stood in another world entirely, warmth bloomed in her chest.
“So she opened a café… and it’s thriving,” she whispered. “I’m so proud of her.”

When the rain finally eased and sunlight filtered through the leaves, Kané made her way toward the Aetheryte Plaza. She set her greatsword beside a bench and noticed a flyer fluttering nearby:Come to Aldra’s Fresh and Sweet Café — Lavender BedsDirections were neatly written below.Kané’s smile softened as she imagined Aldra’s face when she saw her again—the surprise, the joy, the inevitable embrace. Behind her, Y’shtola paused on the path, lost in her own thoughts, neither aware of how close their paths had come to crossing in truth.

Kané crossed one of Gridania’s small bridges, humming quietly to herself. She passed Y’shtola without either realizing it.“I can’t wait to see her smile,” Kané murmured, a tiny giggle escaping her lips. “And the hug… gods, the hug I’ll give her.”She continued on toward the Lavender Beds, unaware of the greater currents at play—the presence of other worlds bleeding into this one, of choices already made elsewhere, and of how Y’shtola’s curiosity and resolve might soon ripple outward in ways none of them yet understood.

What the Books Did Not Say

With it raining heavily outside of the Carline Canopy of Gridania, Y’shtola is lost in a book on dragons and the biology of them, trying to find anything that can help her decide with enough information to decide on using the analysis spell on this world's Aldra to acquire the spell Alicia used on herself to help get her wife pregnant.Her thoughts keep going back to the night at Aldra and Alicia's home, the conversations she had with this world's Aldra, how her journey was different than her Aldra's and her actions she did to the pregnant Aldra to not let this motherly dragon's world shattering when she saw Y’shtola's Aldra on the TV, the panic and fear in the pregnant dragon's trembling voice and her eyes filled with tears."I did what I must in order to help my wife, my love, MY Aldra to be able to have a child as well. To also not have this world's Aldra to not be stressed and lose her child. But... why do I feel guilty? She is not my Aldra… while I do not want her to be harmed, her happiness at seeing me arrive at her home, how she glowed when she thought she was reconnecting with the Y’shtola she knew… the conversations, the meal—my gods, the delicious meal… A-and… her eyes seeing my Aldra, the realization… I made sure both she and her unborn child were not stressed and safe, while doing a gentle sleep and memory wipe spell, so she wouldn't remember the broadcast of the Grand Champion of Ascension Arcadia coronation…"Y’shtola mutters to herself as she grips the book tightly, instinctively knowing what she did to this Aldra was wrong — but it was for her goal of learning how this Aldra got pregnant by her wife, and for her desire for her Aldra and herself to start a family.She would do anything.In her free hand she tries to use her linkpearl again to reach out to her Aldra. She has tried multiple times before the night at this world's Aldra's home — each time no response back, as if something damaged her Aldra's linkpearl."Still nothing… this confirms she must have been forced to use Aetheryte travel in Limsa Lominsa. That beautiful reckless wife of mine… At least she is safe and looked well on the TV. I guess I owe her an apology, as maybe the outfit wasn't enough of a disguise."Y’shtola exhales softly."This world's Aldra is cherished by a lot of allies and friends… like you are, my love."Her eyes widen as she reaches a passage in the book:“While pregnant, dragons have a lowered aether resistance, and any great exposure to aether will trigger a forced change. Their appearances may shift, but the body will do all in its ability to protect the child from stress or harm. Any analysis or aether-based spells will not affect them in any form, as dragons would need to be exposed to vast amounts of aether to trigger such a change.”Y’shtola smiles faintly, rereading the passage several times to commit it to memory.But as she flips further through the pages, her expression slowly tightens.There were no records.No studies.No references.Not a single note on half-dragons."Both my Aldra and the pregnant one are rare… if there is no information on half-dragons…"Her grip on the book tightens."…then there is no proof they are vulnerable either."The thought settles comfortably in her mind — too comfortably."The analysis spell is the only way."She closes the book and places it gently on the table, standing as the rain continues to fall outside. The sound of it feels cleansing, almost reassuring, as if the world itself were washing away doubt.

As she walks out of the Carline Canopy, the rain helps her find clarity — helps renew her resolve.Trying to speak with Alicia is too dangerous.Alicia is in Solution 9.And she had promised.She and her Aldra had promised to keep tabs on this world’s Aldra — while her wife gathered information in Limsa and Solution 9.Each step toward Gridania’s Aetheryte Plaza feels like a heartbeat, steady and determined."She is half-dragon… so she should definitely be safe from the aether released by the analysis spell. The book said dragons have high resistance, even when pregnant. Even if that resistance is lowered, it exists to protect the child as the mother resonates with it… forming a bond."

She hesitates.Just for a moment."But… part of me is unsure."Her fingers brush the teleport ring at her hand."I could return to my Aldra at any time if something goes wrong. I’ll attune myself to this Aetheryte first — just in case."She looks up at the crystal."But the promise we made… I must believe this Aldra will be safe. She is half-dragon. The resistance will be enough."Unaware, sitting on a bench nearby, the Kané from her world reads a flyer advertising this world’s Aldra’s café — lost in pleasant thoughts, smiling faintly at the idea of seeing her student again.

Y’shtola doesn’t notice her.Though, for the briefest instant, she feels something pass by her awareness.Something familiar.Like a presence she almost recognized.But the feeling fades as quickly as it came.Y’shtola continues walking, stopping at the bridge, looking down at the river with her arms crossed."Now is a good time to visit the pregnant Aldra. She’ll be at her café… If I can get her alone, I can ‘check’ on her freely."She exhales slowly."I hope I do not have to mislead her. Her heart is too kind… like my wife’s became. But this is the only safe option."Her gaze stays fixed on the flowing water as her world’s Kané passes behind her, also heading toward the café — neither realizing they now share the same world.The same path.The same inevitable convergence.As Y’shtola turns and begins walking toward the Lavender Beds, she does so unaware that every step she takes is not toward knowledge……but toward the moment everything will fracture.

Aether Out of Place

Meanwhile in Solution 9, Y’shtola, Gek, and Shale made their way toward the towering entrance of the Arcadion, intent on investigating the strange incident that had disrupted the coronation of the Grand Champion. None of them yet realized that the true cause of the disturbance had been the arrival of another Aldra—pulled violently into this world through unstable aetheryte travel.Y’shtola slowed her steps, a faint tension tightening her shoulders.
“I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching us,” she murmured. “It’s the same sensation I had outside True Vue a few days ago. Familiar… but wrong.”Gek responded without turning her head. “Don’t look back. Let them think we haven’t noticed. There’s too much residual aether in Solution 9 for me to pinpoint anything precisely, but what I feel is… known to me. Whoever it is, they may be the one who caused the Arcadion incident.”Shale frowned, her unease growing.Several levels below them, partially concealed behind a glowing electrope light display, the other-world Aldra watched the trio ascend. Her body felt heavy—too heavy. The side effects of her forced aetheryte travel were beginning to take hold, though she dismissed it as simple exhaustion.Her linkpearl lay cracked and unresponsive against her chest.If I need to, I could try to pickpocket one of theirs, she thought grimly. Just long enough to reach Y’shtola… but it’s too risky. Not like this.She steadied herself against the railing, breathing slow and controlled.
Don’t fail me now. I just need answers. Then I can rest.

At the Arcadion’s outer platform, Shale began questioning witnesses.“I couldn’t clearly see who appeared in the arena,” said a blonde Lalafell with nervous excitement, “but the way she moved—far too fast. Like a trained assassin.”A Hyur man in dark clothing nodded. “She reminded me of Aldra. Not exactly—her hair and tail were different—but the way she fought… it was the same. Quick, precise. Like she’d never let anyone get the drop on her.”Shale inhaled sharply. Her thoughts flickered back to the day Aldra had stepped away from active duty, smiling bravely as she announced her pregnancy—asking about Y’shtola, even then, before quietly returning home.Another witness, a blue-haired Elezen, echoed the description. Then a Hyur woman added softly, “She wasn’t just fast. She felt dangerous. Powerful. Her tail was black—armored—and it glowed turquoise. I could feel her aether even from the stands.”Gek’s expression darkened. The image aligned too well with the Aldra she had once met in the First—the one who had already undergone multiple transformations.If she’s here… then why? And why now?Nearby, Yaana spoke carefully to Y’shtola, her tone weighted with concern.
“I’m certain it was Aldra. She brushed past me—I saw her face clearly. The scent was the same. But her aether… it was wrong. Disoriented. As though it didn’t belong to this world—or had been damaged by improper aetheryte travel. If that’s the case, the fatigue she’s experiencing could be severe. Her aether is struggling to stabilize.”Y’shtola covered her mouth, eyes widening. “Thank you, Yaana. We’ll find her—immediately.”Above them, hidden in the glow of the city lights, the other-world Aldra felt her heart sink.She saw me… then I really need to leave. Before they corner me.

She turned away, descending the stairs—but her legs buckled. A wave of dizziness crashed through her, sharper than anything she had felt before. Her body felt hollow, as if something had torn through her from the inside.She stumbled into a narrow alleyway, bracing herself against the wall.“What… is this feeling?” she whispered. “It’s like something inside me shifted—forcefully…”Meanwhile, Y’shtola, Gek, and Shale moved quickly, scanning the lower levels.“We need to find her now,” Y’shtola said urgently. “If her aether is destabilizing, hiding will only make it worse.”Gek nodded. “She won’t be able to move far in that state.”As they passed the alleyway, Y’shtola suddenly stopped.“Aldra…”Her voice carried fear—and recognition.The other-world Aldra stood only a short distance away, barely upright, her movements slow and unsteady. Her ears twitched at the sound of her name, and she tried to turn—only for her legs to finally give out. She collapsed onto the pavement, unconscious.

Y’shtola rushed forward without hesitation, kneeling beside her and placing a hand over her chest. The aether she felt was strained, fractured—but unmistakably Aldra’s.Not her Aldra.
But close enough that it hurt.“I’ve got you,” Y’shtola whispered, more to herself than to the woman before her. She began carefully stabilizing the damaged aether, weaving restorative magic to soothe the turbulence left by the aetheryte travel.Gek watched silently, arms crossed, a small, thoughtful smile forming. She saw it clearly now—this wasn’t investigation for Y’shtola anymore. It was redemption.Shale activated her linkpearl, arranging medical care with Oblivion.Y’shtola exhaled once the aether finally settled. “She’ll be alright. But she needs rest—constant monitoring.”She hesitated, then added softly, “I want to stay with her. Just until she wakes.”Gek nodded. “I’ll return to our Aldra in Gridania. Make sure she’s safe.”As they lifted the other-world Aldra and carried her toward a prepared room, the city lights of Solution 9 reflected across her unconscious form—two worlds colliding once again, not through battle or prophecy……but through exhaustion, chance, and a fragile second chance at doing what should have been done the first time.

The Path She Did Not Walk

After a long walk, Kané stopped before the café and simply… looked.Wisteria cascaded down the archway like violet rain. Flowerbeds were arranged with thoughtful care, outside tables polished, chairs aligned with deliberate precision.It wasn’t just beautiful. It was loved.“Oh, Aldra…” she whispered softly. “You made this.”She moved among the blossoms, fingertips grazing petals, noting the thoughtful pairing of colors and the deliberate care given to every corner of the garden. Love lived here. Not the fierce, protective kind she once taught—but a gentler devotion. The kind that required patience. Emotion. Understanding.A faint smile curved her lips. Aldra… you have grown so much.There had been a time her daughter struggled with such things. When emotions beyond rage or anger felt foreign, unnecessary. When Kané and Y’shtola had to teach her—step by stubborn step—that love was not weakness.*“You were forced to be a teenager,” Kané thought quietly. “Never given the chance to be a child. The Garlean scientists saw only a weapon… never the remarkable woman you would become.”

Kané surrendered her weapon at the entrance without hesitation, offering a polite smile to the staff. “Please take good care of it.”Inside, her eyes adjusted—And then she saw her. The young woman being gently guided toward the hallway.Tired. Carefully supported.One hand resting instinctively over her stomach.Kané froze.The aether struck her first.Draconic. Fox-spirit. Aldra.Her breath caught—then faltered.It was familiar enough to hollow her lungs.But the pattern beneath it—Not hers.Not the cadence she had memorized over years of guidance and battle.The harmony was different. The layering of growth… altered.Her heart gave a slow, aching beat.This is not my Aldra.The realization unfolded slowly, like dawn breaking over something she wasn’t ready to see.Which meant—This is not my world.The maternal ache began there. Not in suspicion. Not in theory.But in that quiet, devastating certainty as she watched an Aldra—so much like her daughter—being escorted to rest.Pregnant. Alive. Radiant.

Whole. Not fractured and forcibly repaired. But, whole.Relief brushed against her grief.“Is she married?” Kané asked quietly.“To Alicia,” Tiika replied warmly. “They love each other deeply.”Kané nodded once.Love had claimed her here.Not war. Not survival.This Aldra had been allowed to grow beyond what the Empire forged her into.And that knowledge hurt in ways she did not resent.Her gaze lingered on the hallway.“If I am not her mother here,” she thought softly, “then at least she has not been alone.”Then the air shifted.Aether brushed her senses—sharp. Controlled. Familiar.Kané’s posture straightened.Y’shtola. Not this world’s. Hers.She felt it instantly in the discipline of the aether, in the quiet authority woven into every step.Protective instinct flared before reason could temper it.If Y’shtola is here—Then where is my daughter?Had convergence in Jeuno drawn them both across?Was Aldra wandering this world alone?The maternal ache deepened into something more focused.Searching. Ready.Kané remained seated, outwardly composed.But beneath that calm exterior, she was no longer simply a visitor in a strange world.She was a mother who had just realized she might have to find her child across realities.And she would not hesitate to do so.

For My Aldra...

Y’shtola entered the café unaware that she was not alone from her world.Kané saw her first.From her seat, the former Scion felt that familiar cadence in the aether—precise, controlled, unmistakable. Her spine straightened. Her instincts sharpened.And she watched.Y’shtola moved toward the hallway with measured calm.On the cushioned bench beneath the aquarium’s soft blue glow, Aldra rested. Her breathing was slow, hand curved protectively over her belly, lashes fluttering as sleep tugged gently at her.“Just checking in on you, Aldra,” Y’shtola said smoothly, warmth layered into her voice. “You sweet dragon mother.~”Aldra’s eyes opened, unfocused at first.“Y’shtola…?” she murmured.Then clarity returned. A faint crease touched her brow.“I wanted to apologize… for the other night. After dinner. We were supposed to watch Alicia’s coronation, but I don’t remember anything after sitting down.” Her voice trembled slightly. “I woke up alone. You were gone.”Aldra's heart beat slowly, her mind trying to remember that night.“What did I see?” she asked softly. “Did… did you do something to me?”For the first time, Y’shtola paused.So she remembers the absence. Her composure smoothed instantly.“You witnessed something that would have caused you—and the child—great distress,” she replied evenly. “I chose not to burden you with that shock.”Aldra inhaled sharply.“If it concerned my wife, I deserve to know.”She pushed herself upright despite exhaustion, protective instinct overriding fatigue.“Please.”Y’shtola had not expected this strength. Not from a pregnant Aldra she had assumed would be fragile, pliant.Instead, she saw devotion. It unsettled her.From the café beyond the hallway, voices softened. The staff had heard the rise in Aldra’s tone.

Time was thinning. Y’shtola stepped closer.“For my Aldra,” she whispered.Her right hand lifted.Aether gathered—precise, surgical. The analysis spell was not meant to change. Not to rewrite. Only to understand.Only to learn the spell Alicia had woven—temporary, exacting, elegant in its structure. A bridge built against what nature had denied. A spell meant to restore, not distort.Aldra’s ears twitched.She caught the glow a second too late.Cold dread hit her chest.No—The spell struck. It searched. And in that searching, it pierced deeper than intended.Pregnant dragons cannot endure raw probing aether.The knowledge flashed too late through Aldra’s mind—something the healers had warned her of in careful tones.But she was not fully dragon. And not fully fox.Half-blooded. Unpredictable. The backlash was immediate.Her body arched as ancient power surged uncontrolled through her veins. Silver hair spilled longer over her shoulders, darkening as raven strands threaded through it like ink dropped into moonlight. Auburn caught in the aquarium’s glow.Her tail thickened—turquoise armor reforming in luminous segments, reverting toward something older. Something primal.Her horns burned.They reshaped with a resonant hum, etched in glowing turquoise sigils that pulsed like a heartbeat awakening.Her eyes flared open—One crimson, burning draconic fire. The other violet, fox-spirit light shimmering within.She tried to speak. Nothing came.Her strength collapsed inward.But her hand moved—instinctively, desperately—to her belly.Searching. The child. The presence within her remained steady.Unshaken. Unharmed. That alone kept her conscious.

Y’shtola staggered back.This was not discovery. This was catastrophe.“The book… there was nothing about half-dragons…” she whispered, panic cracking through her control. “I didn’t intend—”Her senses reached outward, trembling.Searching. And then—Relief crashed through her so violently it brought her to her knees.“They’re safe,” she breathed, tears spilling freely. “The child is safe…”Aldra heard it faintly.Through the roar of blood in her ears.Through the draining exhaustion.She felt herself slipping.“Thank you…” she whispered weakly. “For making sure… my baby…”Her body gave out.Y’shtola caught her before she fell fully, lowering her carefully onto the cushioned bench.But the success—the knowledge she had taken—felt like ash.

She had the spell.And nearly destroyed something sacred to get it.From the café, Tiika’s voice rose in alarm.“Y’shtola? What happened? What did you do?”Y’shtola stepped back.Hands shaking. Heart shattering.She fled.Past the staff calling after her.Past Kané’s watchful, dawning horror.Out into the open air.Tears streaked down her face as realization sank like iron into her chest.If the convergence tied worlds together—If aether resonated across reflections—What she had done here…Might not remain here.Her thoughts turned to Solution 9.To her Aldra. And fear truly began.Behind her, in the quiet hallway beneath the aquarium’s dim blue glow, Aldra lay transformed, unconscious—And Kané rose from her seat. No longer merely observing.Now a mother who understood something had gone terribly wrong.

• Chapter 1-4
• Chapter 5-6
• Chapter 7
• Chapter 8
• Chapter 9
• Chapter 10
• Chapter 11
• Chapter 12
• Chapter 13
• Main