The desert wind carried Zack Fair's laughter far across the dunes, but the sound faded quickly, swallowed by the vastness of Thanalan. At his back, four young adventurers stood together—Daren, Rufan, Mira, and Selia—still catching their breath after days of training under his relentless cheer. They had begged him to stay, their eyes bright with respect, but Zack only flashed that wide, reckless grin of his.
"You'll be fine," he told them, tightening the strap on his bastard sword. "Heroes don't grow if someone else is always carrying the weight. Make the name Dawn Blades mean something."
Daren raised his sword in shaky salute, Rufan tried to laugh it off with a quip, Mira muttered about wasted talent, and Selia pressed a bundle of rations into his hand, whispering that he would always be welcome with them. Zack waved, turned, and walked into the rising sun. He never looked back, though the thought tugged at him. They were good kids. But if he stayed, they'd never learn to stand on their own.
---
In the Black Shroud, Aerith Gainsborough lingered beside the spring she had healed. Wildflowers had bloomed along the bank, their blossoms reflecting her smile. Behind her stood three women—the Petal Veil, though they did not yet call themselves that aloud.
Princess Elira, still disguised in scholar's robes, touched Aerith's arm with gratitude. "If you stayed, you could teach us. You could guide us."
Aerith's voice was gentle, her eyes warm but resolute. "The world calls me onward. The forest doesn't keep flowers forever—it just lets them rest until the wind carries them again." She tapped her staff lightly against the moss and laughed. "Besides, you three already have each other. That's the strongest kind of healing there is."
Kaia and Rowena exchanged glances, protective but knowing. Aerith waved farewell and walked away, her song blending with the hum of the river until she vanished among the trees.
---
In Ul'dah, Galuf Halm Baldesion woke with an ache in his ribs, a bruise blooming across his shoulder, and the taste of stale ale on his tongue. He laughed as he sat up from the tavern bench he'd collapsed onto, stretching like a man half his age.
Kaelen, Odrin, and Torvik stood outside with him as the sun rose, their laughter quieter now but no less real. They had brawled, drunk, and boasted through the night until the tavern nearly collapsed under the weight of it. Now, with the dawn burning over the sandstone walls, they clasped forearms one last time.
"Don't go dying before round two," Kaelen said gruffly.
Galuf barked a laugh. "Ha! You think this old coot is done? You wish." He tightened his handguards, every joint in his body complaining, and started down the street. "Plenty of fight left in me."
The Iron Old Guard watched him leave, shaking their heads with respect. Galuf never looked back. The road was calling, and he wasn't about to sit still polishing memories.
---
In Gridania's twilight, Noctis Lucis Caelum leaned against a tree, spear resting across his knees. Across from him, Alaren and Serenya packed their gear, the faint glow of Serenya's carbuncle flickering beside her.
"You're not coming with us," Alaren said quietly, though it wasn't a question.
Noctis shook his head, eyes on the stars fading into dawn. "You two are bound together. I've got my own path." He smirked faintly. "Besides… twilight's meant for two."
Serenya tilted her head at the strange words, but her lips softened into a smile. Alaren chuckled, clapping Noctis's shoulder. "If fate wills it, we'll meet again."
When they turned back to their packs, Noctis was already gone, a shadow melting into the forest.
---
By the sea, Reks stood with the Ember Wings one last time. Kiel puffed out his chest, swearing he'd be stronger next time. Tressa waved her fists, demanding another chance to prove herself. Cynra pressed a small seashell charm into his palm, whispering that it would keep him safe. Lyra only gave him a long, quiet look, bow taut in her hands.
Reks closed his hand around the charm, his voice steady. "You'll rise on your own wings. Don't wait for me to carry you."
The siblings wanted to argue, but something in his gaze silenced them. He turned away, shield strapped to his back, the salt breeze tugging at his hair. The sound of gulls followed him down the shoreline until the mist swallowed his figure.
---
One by one, the Fallen Five walked alone again. Bonds had been forged, names given, but solitude remained their companion.
Days passed. Across Eorzea, rumors began to spread.
A merchant caravan in Thanalan swore they had seen jackals whose eyes burned red like embers. A farmer in the Shroud told of sprites that shrieked without reason and set fire to the crops. Ul'dah's guards whispered of shadows slithering through the alleys at night, leaving claw marks on stone. Sailors out of Limsa spoke of sea-beasts stronger than any Sahagin raid, their scales darkened, their cries unnatural.
At first, people laughed it off—just monsters, nothing new. But as the days stretched into a week, the laughter faded. Caravans vanished without trace. Hunters didn't return. Villages reported whole herds fleeing into the night.
The people of Eorzea were bewildered.
And far above, Sirius stirred. In the heart of the Aetherveil, he lifted his head sharply, his gaze piercing through the threads of fate. Something unnatural had brushed the stars, a ripple of entropy carried on the aether.
His voice was grim, though he spoke to no one but himself.
"It's begun."