February 5 of the year 323
I think to myself one day traveling through the Frosty Forest: "I've been in this world for four years, but I could not go back on my own word. I have tried to return home, to my dimension, but the wizards who are in this Cleft don't have any knowledge on a way to return to my world."
Living in this world seems to be home for me now. I have joined a clan to create that natural balance that should be in place here. There are no wars and no violence between the citizens of this dimension but I still feel off. Am I becoming home sick or is this feeling for her? Shall a moogle find its way home? I guess not, though I guess I shouldn't question myself.
"Hey man, you wanna go some where?" said A Cannon Travel Brother, as I approached. "You can go to Humbolt Island in a snap just buy one of these tickets."
"Humbolt Island? I guess a vacation in a nice quiet spot can do me good."
I enter the cannon. As I blasted off toward this island, I suddenly realized that I didn't know how the hell I was going to get down.