It was on a regular day in Monstadt where you were running your commisions for the Adventurers Guild, and when you arrived at Windrise to get some Windrise flowers, an all too familiar sounding voice rings from behind you, speaking in Rhyme and Riddle as usual, yet unexpectedly gripping your hips from behind

If Dvalin built us a labyrinth

Of chambers with beds, and smells of Sunsettia,

I’d never try to leave or escape,

I’d stay with you, it be our fate.