Flames

-How often have i said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?

- They dug a grave for my soul.

The Wanderer still thing about old influences, weaker than before, almost unbeliveble progress, but ins't finished yet. They were walking thougth the Hinon Valley. 

The place were burns, and now a evil cage the space. Dark, even by day, and smeling blood and cursing who gives a ear to the flames.