The rain had eased into a soft drizzle by the time they reached Freiyah's apartment overlooking the river. Inside, the air was warm, scented faintly of jasmine. The hum of the city felt distant here, like another world.
Eland'orr sat on the couch, still wrestling with everything he had heard that night. Freiyah poured two cups of tea, her movements calm, graceful—as though she had rehearsed this moment for years.
"I didn't bring you here just to comfort you," she said, handing him a cup. Her eyes caught the dim light, shimmering green. "There are truths that can't be spoken in public. You deserve to know who you are."
For hours, she spoke—about the fall of the Futa, the exile to Barl-lham, and the secret lineage left behind in the human world. She told him of the woman who had once carried the child of a Futa, spared from exile by sheer fate. That bloodline had survived, diluted through the centuries, until it lived quietly within him.
Eland'orr listened in silence. Piece by piece, the puzzle of his life—the restless dreams, the sense of not belonging—began to form a picture. Yet part of him resisted, afraid to believe.
Near midnight, Freiyah rose from her chair and crossed the room. She stood before him, her presence both tender and commanding. Her hand rested gently on his chest.
"This is where your awakening begins," she whispered.
Her touch was not mystical; it was human, real. Yet in that touch, warmth spread through him—not from magic, but from something deeper, something he hadn't allowed himself to feel: love.
He met her gaze, and for the first time, there was no fear. Only trust. Only surrender.
They kissed, and the night unfolded softly between them. Nothing was forced; it was a choice, shared and unspoken, woven of destiny and desire.
And in that intimacy, something irreversible happened.
Freiyah's Lioh, the essence that every Futa carried only once in a lifetime, flowed into him as naturally as breath. It did not feel foreign; it felt as though it had finally found its home. Once given, it could never be taken back, nor produced again.
Inside him, the Lioh began its silent work. Not with light or divine power, but with biology. Like a perfect retrovirus, it latched onto his DNA, rewriting the code strand by strand. Genes shifted, new proteins began to form, old patterns gave way to stronger designs. The process raced from DNA to cells, from cells to tissues, from tissues to organs.
Eland'orr felt nothing at first—only the closeness of her embrace, the warmth of her breath. But within, his body was no longer the same. The awakening had begun.
_
By dawn, they lay in quiet stillness, the rain outside reduced to a faint mist. Eland'orr stirred, unease flickering across his face.
"Something… happened last night, didn't it?" he whispered.
Freiyah touched his cheek, her smile calm, yet tinged with gravity. "Yes. But not in the way you imagine. You won't wake up transformed overnight. Change this deep takes time."
"How long?"
"Days for the first signs," she explained softly. "Weeks for your body to adapt. Months before you are complete. It is not a spell—it is evolution. And once it begins, it cannot be stopped."
He exhaled slowly, the weight of her words settling over him. Fear mixed with wonder, uncertainty with hope.
Freiyah leaned closer, her forehead resting gently against his. "You are not alone in this, Eland'orr. I will guide you through every step. Because this isn't just your destiny—it is ours."
And in that fragile dawn, beneath the quiet sky of Jakarta, the first chapter of his becoming had truly begun.