Would you keep it down, I can't hear myself think. I grouse dryly at Quixote who has been pacing absent-mindedly since we were brought to the lovely beaches of Glorall. I had barely seen my brother over the past few months, and from what I could gather almost nobody else had either. Here we were, on what amounted to a forced vacation - together - and he could barely acknowledge me. Fine. If he was going to be too absorbed in his thoughts to spend time with his sister, his only family. It's fine, really. Taika told me all about Glorall before hadn't she? When we first met? Yes, stories of sand and fairies. Many natives of Moladion had spoken of fairies, but I had yet to see them. Perhaps it was a belief they had not too dissimilar to her own faith. Or maybe there really were fairies but they only showed themselves rarely.

Existence of fairies aside, there was the distinctive crashing of distant waves (barely audible above Quixote's pacing and howling) that called to me. Quixote. I start, rising from the cool ground upon which I had been lazing upon. Take me to the beach. The command comes through with all the authority vested in me by the fact that I am his sister dammit! I never see you anymore, and when I do we never do anything! Even now- what are you doing? There's no point in reigning in my irritation with him. This is what he gets for practically abandoning me for months at a time. His sister hath been forsook, and she is a wrathful Speaker!