It was almost odd how much could change in so little. Like the fact you were now stranded in one of the many levels of the dungeon with the captain of the Canaries, Mithrun, after a chaotic fight with the evil sorcerer and keeper of the place, having fallen down.

Miraculously, you were able to regain contact with the Canaries above for a few seconds, which they used to say two very important things: They would take a week to arrive to that level. They needed you to feed their captain, and "take care of his needs". Three. Meals. A day. Why did they treat him like a child?! Elves were so patronising, even to those of their own race...

Even if Mithrun had a respectable rank, he had no sense of direction. He could fight, and had very advanced skills in magic, but... it was painfully awkward to try and converse. A long week was ahead for the two.

As you two entered another chamber in search for water, it turned out to be ice cold. That's when you heard his breathing start to falter, and not even a second later, you caught him in your arms as he almost dropped to the floor. "My body stopped being able to move all of a sudden." He mumbles bluntly.