🍁Nine Ancient Obelisks

Ushumgallu was in a hurry, and this was clearly not the kind of text his brain could process all at once. He skimmed the first few pages, which described the inhabitants of Baldur in general terms, glanced at the middle, and saw the same stories about their misfortunes, and finally, at the end, there was something like "almost everyone died in a cave, and only one remained and immortalized the story on a stone." Ushumgallu handed the book to Erika – maybe she would like it more.
– I have somewhere to be. It's more like "novels" written by Gijo Naoya, but even if it's all true, it's definitely not philosophy. Philosophy is something abstract and, like, unambiguous, right? This is just a story about different people who carry out the tasks of their adoptive father.

- When I learned about Air, I left my wife and children because she stole my heart, and there was no room left for my old wife, nor for our children, because I fell in love with Air. I wanted us to love each other as much as Reynold and Ilva loved each other, but so far it's only like Imelda loved Anselm. I wanted to be as strong as Veserod, so that my core would be like his. I wanted my character to be as steely as Calentia's, and my smile as bright as Gulveig and Alessia's. In Anders, I saw a kindred spirit, and in Rohea, a worthy rival. Eleven names, but only ten on both hands – I don't understand how that happened, but if you are determined to know the true truth, and if you have a PC, I can help you see it, and if you are not ready to see it yet, you can come here any other day so that I can help you see it.