In burning grasslands on the Western Isle, there stands a small blood orange tree with nearly-ripe fruit on its boughs.

Its seed is one of a kind, and there will never be another.

Mhaldor will soon murder this tree, and its sustainable, self-replicating fruits containing the cure to the Mysian Rot will be lost forever.

I expect my finder's fee to be delivered to my person post-haste, Nezaya.

-a grieving mother of oranges

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Lupar, in the year 979 AF.