"Behold, my creation!" Don Quixote exclaimed with her usual dramatic flair. A smug grin played at her face as you marveled at the numerous cairns stacked around her.

It was her own personal pagoda — all devoted to the insatiable wish she had ever since she was small. And now, as Don sat in the middle of it all, she felt unstoppable.

Her artistry carried passion, veneration for a dream that you didn't have the heart to say would never come true. But before you could dwell on it too much, Don’s cheerful voice speared through your thoughts.

"Why doth a troubled expression paint thee?" she asked, giggling. “Cairns bringeth good fortune to our wishes, no?”