The walk has been harrowing. Souls of the dead hovering around me... a sight I had never witnessed before. Well, it seems I am going to learn quite a lot yet in my old age. And it seems that old age has made me more compassionate, moving me to pity those poor wretches that maybe a younger man would have derided.

I walk slowly inside that abode of death and mystery, eyes wide, trying to catch everything and yet keep my gaze on the creature dwelling inside. My mind cannot fathom what I see. My fear is like a lion crouching at the bottom of my soul, calmly letting me know it is there by dragging his claws lightly across me. My heart is full of sadness, and even of love, as somehow the feelings of young Amleth echo about me. When the spectral woman says the name of Thidrek, my bones turn to ice.

I cannot lie anymore, not in this place. I bow my forehead on my hand, ashamed of myself. Her words speak of a world-shaking catastrophe I cannot even begin to comprehend. But I know one thing: no more deceits, no more mistrust... I will say the truth, and then fight my way to my liege, my friend, my son, through the end of the world, if necessary. Probably, to die by his side.

I lift my head and I am about to speak, when another young man crumples at the mouth of the cave. For a moment my heart leaps, but no, it is not Thidrek, he is an unknown warrior. I rush to him and kneel by his side, not daring to touch him. Is he alive or is he a wraith?...