Foreign herbs, aromatic ointments & elixirs fit for the gods; my full restoration at the hands of my guardian angel, Priestess Lacerta. My life was at an open end, but before I could inquire she escorted me through to her own personal library, reminiscent of what I imagine the Library of Alexandira to resemble. Fascinated by the richness of wisdom around me I raced through a blur of symbols and hieroglyphics, my eyes darting around trying to discern a legible book cover. The Priestess handed me a tattered looking tome; like an eager mother she insisted I looked into it. Various riddles of foreign tongues that I could not decipher laid before me, but there were notes, notes in my familiar language 

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Gobekli Tepe, Icaro, Zilliqa  It was like a history book of my former world, and to my confusion a history of myself with events that never took place, or at least not that I hold any recollection of. An intensity coursed through my veins a heavy pulse of reckoning as my subconscious burst into the rational; I saw it in front of me. The very symbol that has flooded my dreams since I woke on this planet. I asked Lacerta what it was, she turned at me, caught between bemusement and exhilaration: “There is someone you need to meet.”