Ser Alfred rode hard through the night until, just at the break of dawn, he arrived at the entrance of a cave in the foot of a mountain, miles from his cabin and the nearby village. "Dragon! Come forth! I would have a word with you!" the knight shouted in the general direction of the cave. He listened closely as he tightened the straps of his shield as tight as he could, tighter than he could bear. He knew this would cost him what remained of his right arm, but lacking a hand to grip it, he had to rely on the straps to hold it in place.

The first sign that his words had been heard were a rumbling from within the cave, and Ser Alfred knew what was coming next. "Damn," he muttered, before raising the shield before him. He notched the front of his bow into a hook at the front of the shield, nocked an arrow, and held it ready to draw. A moment later, flames burst from within the cave, engulfing the knight and his horse. An instant before the flames could touch them, however, horse and rider alike were bathed in a brilliant light, protecting them from the flames, and Ser Alfred drew his bow.

"Listen, you old bastard, I'm just here to talk!" he said, taking aim with his bow. The flames made it nigh impossible to see, but he could gauge roughly where they were coming from. He waited a moment more to see if the dragon would listen, but when the red hot flames intensified and turned blue, he knew there would be no peaceful resolution to this conflict. "Damn," he muttered, and loosed the arrow. A brief sputter and the immediate cessation of flames told him his arrow was on its mark.

Five days after leaving Ser Alfred's cabin, Mikhail looked up from his chores to see a horse just on the other side of the fence where his family kept their sheep. Almost as soon as he noticed the mare, a raven landed on the saddle, a note clutched in its beak. Wary, Mikhail approached the pair and took the note from the raven; no sooner had he gripped the paper than the raven took off, disappearing into the sky. Mikhail looked at the note in his hands and read. It was scrawled, barely legible, and he knew immediately what the note meant. Tears welled in his eyes as he read.

"Mikhail,

You've taken better care of me than I deserve these past few years. Despite everything, despite how ungrateful and insufferable I have been, you have never failed me.

If you're reading this now, then I've fought my last. If Elonzie is there with you, she will bring you to a treasure the likes of which you can hardly fathom. If she is not, there is a hefty sum of gold in my cabin. Take what you want, it's all yours.

I strongly advise you to take what you can and leave this place. I believe this land to be cursed. In the beginning, I thought I could cleanse this land. I was fated to save it, after all. Now, after everything, I'm not so sure. I'm not sure this land can be saved.

Whatever you do, don't follow in my footsteps. Believe it or not, as bitter as I've been lately, I was once a happy man. Happiness, it would seem, isn't meant for men like me. As hard as I have fought, I have failed, time and again, to save those closest to me. That's why I implore you, leave this place.

• Alfred"

The note fell from the boy's hands.

A week later, Mikhail and his family rode out of the village, never to return. Just outside of the village, an empty cabin sat, abandoned, with five piles of rocks outside of it, each with a rose of winter sitting atop it.