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The luminous moon illuminated the narrow path ahead. The old woman Luna, with eyes the color of Summer sunsets, leaned on her gnarled oaken staff and wiped her lips with a worn handkerchief. The dry leaves were blown thither and yon by the warm, parched wind. She wasn't finished. She knew what she had to do. "Must keep walking," she thought to herself looking back at the path behind. It had been easy, too easy, traveling during daylight, the light was now behind her.

She reached into the top of the strange tower and glanced at the inscription