At the Land of the Crumbled, only the faint light of a distant celestial body illuminated the scene: the edge of the River of Oblivion.

White Lily Cookie sat alone at the bank, her silhouette almost blending into the landscape. Her layered veils fluttered slightly, disturbed by the currents of the river of tears. Her staff was held loosely, the candles atop it failing to provide any warmth, only casting shadows upon her pale dough.

She gazed down into the impenetrable darkness of the river, where memory itself went to sink and dissolve.