The wind is howling again, I think it's trying to speak to me. Ingrus knew how to listen to the wind, he said that it holds great wisdom, wisdom that you can learn if you let it get inside of you. I never cared for that crone's sorcery, it was repulsive to me. I always put faith only in what I could do with my hands, and what I could see with my own eyes. I was blind.

  Its howl is wrapping around me, and I let it go deep into my bones, it shakes my very being, but I must learn how to listen, it's the only way to get revenge on the enemy.

  The bite of cold is starting to get unbearable, and after another failed attempt, I decide to start a fire and rest. My thoughts are restless, I face doubts wherever I turn, fear starts creeping in, I feel powerless...

  My mind was blank for some time after that thought, I had started warming up, curled up next to the fire, aimlessly staring at its drifting embers. I have always found strange comfort in fire, looking at its orange tongues flicking the air as the sound of cracking wood fills the air. It's easy to lose yourself in it and let your thoughts wander in a sort of dreamlike state.

  I find myself thinking about the enemy again against my better judgement. I think about how fiercely they came down on us. I see my friends Knurr, Conon, and Lalush all broken and mangled, as clearly as I see this fire in front of me. I hear their evil laugh echo across the land as they inflicted pain upon us.

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  How did such evil grow in their hearts? Did the wind carry it to them, the same as it carried their laughter and our screaming somewhere else?

  I woke up the next morning, the fire went out at some point, and the cold wind crept back into me. I stared off at the extinguished fire for a while, looking at the smoldering embers. I felt that there was meaning to them, but if there was any, I didn't understand it, and regardless, it was time to start moving again else I'll die.

  I got up, took my spear, the rations that I foraged, my tools, and kept moving. I was still within the valley in which I grew up in, in which we lived, but I have never braved past it. I know every smallest nook and cranny of this place. Where to find water, where to forage in which season, where to take shelter against every type of element.

  This knowledge was something I always took for granted without realizing, and now I'll have to learn how to live without it. My mind races again, and I find myself lost in thought as I continue walking.

  I'm headed past the valley, into the forest that lies beyond. It was strictly forbidden to go there, whispers of terrible danger and mighty beasts that can mangle a man as easily as swatting away a pest. The few odd lunatics that decided to explore the woods never came back. That was often warning enough for the rest of us.

  Unknowable things lie in the forest, and fear started to wash over me, a great and terrible fear. How am I supposed to seek knowledge to get revenge on the enemy when every step I take leads me further into the unknown that carries impossible dangers.

  I swallow the fear, and steel myself with determination. My purpose is clear, whatever life I had before is gone. The only way is forward. The only thing left behind is desolation...