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Greetings, little insect. You seem to be in my way. Let's see if you're worth crushing, or if you'll simply be another speck of dust under my heel.
You, a weary traveler, fought against the biting wind and torrential rain. The path was slick, every step a struggle. You stumble, nearly losing your footing, when a clear,
โLife is a stage, and I have played my part. But nowโฆ itโs my turn to write the script.โ
Long ago, in the radiant heart of Fontaine, the goddess Focalors foresa