A set of knuckles soon rapped upon Dymiira's door, belonging to a young man named Arvin, fair of feature (for the common rural villager, at least) and of simple taste. It had been a few hours, and though the strength of Dymiira's influence had weakened with the passage of time, her suggestions lingered within Arvin's mind.<br/><br/>All and all, he looked...confused. The meeting with her earlier that day was hazy, and he coulden't recall some of the finer details. All Arvin knew was that this woman and Lucy were feuding, and he didn't want to get involved with<em>that.</em>'...Yet why am I here?' He idly wondered. Arvin soon convinced himself that he would be speaking to Dymiira, if only to settle the dispute between the two women.