Damon made his way back to the tavern, opting for the rear entrance to access his room. With the establishment now closed, the interior was devoid of any other occupants.
"It's finally over," Damon sighed as he sat on the hard bed. He looked at his hand, which was still trembling after awakening the Holy Flute Ar Avel to its full capacity.
"I wonder… why me?" Damon pondered aloud, a question that echoed in the empty room. The realization that he, of all people, held the key to activating the instrument used by the God of Wind left him bewildered.
"Could it be because I'm not from around here?" Damon mused, his fingers absently rubbing his chin. However, no matter how much he contemplated, he found no satisfying answer. "Ah, whatever. I'll just sleep."
Collapsing onto the bed, Damon directed his gaze upward, fixating on the ceiling. His thoughts drifted to the events unfolding on the other side.
