• “I’ve heard voices for as long as I can remember, ever since I was just a young Elf. If I’d walk through the forest, instead of hearing the usual crunch of leaves underfoot, I’d hear muted screams, and when walking on the prairie grounds, the wind would snake through the long grass whispering my name, “Millia, Millia.” I thought that I was going crazy. I went to talk to Tælric, the druid in our company, thinking he could help. He showed me, in a trance, a “music box” from the future, which at first was another source of trouble, but it played a beautifully haunting melody that sang a story for only my ears. As I grew older, I fought with the Moon’s Shadow, my mercenary company, and if I ever went to loot the bodies of the fallen, I’d hear them whisper to me, tell me who they were, about their families, what they had lost in death. And after those days, I knew that I had to follow the music box’s advice; to make friends with the voices (or the spirits, as the music box called them in song), because if I didn’t, I’d go insane. So now, here I am, sitting on a rotten mossy log, smiling as I listen to the flames sing as I watch them, and tell you my story.”