Overview

To shed that ethereal name was to shed the suffocating weight of my Sky-Kingdom's intellectual dogma. Aeridor taught us to categorize the world from a distance, favoring pristine theory over messy reality. But theory proves cold comfort when one is standing on soil-thick, honest, unforgiving soil-for the very first time. Our journey was an exhilarating defiance, a necessary plunge into the unknown. We broke the silken thread of Aeridorian prophecy and descended to worlds that defied every textbook, every sacred, wind-worn decree. By my side, always, was Tatus, the Magnificent, whose very presence was the sound of protection. He was more than a companion or a steed; Tatus was our unwavering compass. His keen internal awareness of surroundings and danger a primal, instinctual wisdom entirely alien to Aeridor's reasoned calculations-was an invaluable asset. We journeyed not with fear, but with an escalating sense of purpose, seeking the root causes of things, understanding the mechanics of worlds built to last, not merely to drift.

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