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[cogentsummoner]

ingrid appleby wakes up from death.

what should have been death, what would have been death, if not for zodiark, in their final, panicked moments, regurgitating its own new heart.

when she threw herself in after fandaniel, reasoning that if he could become the new heart then so could she, ingrid had prepared herself for many things- most of all, being imprisoned for eternity.

her body, like fandaniel's vessel, had dissolved upon impact- there was no way to be sure how much of the body she now had was comprised of what hydaelyn had made for her when her wandering soul had reached etheirys.

...ingrid hadn't made this new body for herself. it was made for her, sculpted for her by hand by the other souls inside of zodiark. and much like the body hydaelyn had given her...it was made with love. if she thought about it too much she'd start crying again.

there were inconsistencies, of course. the horns being the most obvious, and the hair being the most annoying. she'd have to get rid of that, and soon. she hated the weight of it, and the way it felt on her neck. but still- she could just make out the scars on her chest, and she knew that they had meant for this body to bring her joy and comfort.

distantly, she recognized her robes as having been identical to the ones the shades had worn- they had swaddled her in their clothing.

there was nothing more she could do here. zodiark was no more, and whatever calamity he had held back was sure to return. nothing else for it but to forge ahead.