Talia's dress was pure white, and her figure graceful, but her angelic face bore a confused expression.
She slowly looked downward.
Only to see the familiar silver hair.
The silver-haired woman was now fully concentrated on herself, burying her head in her own arms, sobbing, causing Talia's eyes to begin to sting with tears.
"Isatia..."
Talia had always thought the blessings bestowed by fate would someday run out, believing that good fortune couldn't last forever, yet her longing lingered incessantly.
A hundred years had passed.
She had been hiding her identity, wandering through the Northern and South Continent, witnessing hundreds of springs, summers, autumns, and winters, imagining countless times the reunion with her sister.
It was only after meeting Lanci that her journey took a turn.
She had found clues about her sister, met her niece, learned of her sister's whereabouts, and now, finally, she was meeting her sister again.
Was Lanci truly her wishing machine...
