My eyes meet the moon. I takes me moments before realizing that the can't be a moon in a dungeon. The realization of this makes me realize that I'm no longer in the dungeon. I recall the argument I had with Varia. I recall the part where I began to lose my consciousness.

I'm weak, it seems like the spell Varia cast on me has side effects. I can't even move my legs without yawning, as though I had been working on the fields.

The dungeon is not the only place I'm no longer in, I'm also no longer in Livádia.

The ground surrounding me is wet, I don't think the wetness is caused by rain. Its moisture makes it stick to my body. I smell something, I smell a Blosae: A flower which can only grow on an island. I have not been on an island before, but I have seen it before when my mother used to work for the witches in the garden. They had only one of it, and it took them years of nursing it before it grew successful as the climate was not
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