For about an hour, we prepare for the night. Jonas helps me tie the reins of the hogs to the hinges of some doors near in the middle of the hall, and together we unload them so that they can sleep unburdened. After preparing for bed, we settle down with sleeping bags in the bedroom closest to the second large room.

After a long day of traveling, I feel tired, but it still feels too early to sleep. I turn my head to the right to face Jonas, with a curious thought.

"Jonas, I just realized something strange. Even though, like you say, this place is vandalized and all the furniture is gone, all the torches are still here."

Jonas meets my gaze. "I suppose then, that even though this shelter has been abandoned by its caretakers, it still retains the original purpose it is designed for."

Strangely, even in the solitude of the inn, Jonas remains fully concealed in his clothes. His leather gloves cover his hands... his cloak covers all else but his face and feet... and I even saw him wearing socks as he slid into his sleeping bag. His manner of dress is a testament to his habitual secrecy and vagueness, a relic of a foreign mind I will never fully understand. But somehow I feel that perhaps, in this solitude, he may open up a little, unfolding the hood of the robe of his personal life.

I feel inclined to ask him about this mysterious place, the abandoned, isolated shelter we now call home for the night. "How often have you been here, exactly? I mean... how did you find this place? It's so hidden."

Jonas sighs deeply, exasperated as usual from personal questions. "We're here now. That's all that matters." He turns over in his sleeping bag with his back facing me. "Let's get some sleep."

"Goodnight, then." I look down at my satchel laid down to my left. I feel disappointed, having wanted to talk to Jonas, but being dismissed. A little bored, I open up my satchel, and reach in it for my Farmcrafter's Almanac. I pull it out, feeling for the folded corner of the page I left off at, but I realize that the binding is much too thick for a magazine. I glance at it, and see a thick, blank leather cover. It is not the Farmcrafter's Almanac at all, but the Book.

I feel my stomach curl, and suddenly I realize I read that very Farmcrafter's Almanac before I fell asleep into the first nightmare. I remember feeling bored that night, but very tired. I remember reading the Almanac before I lost concentration and fell asleep. Is it possible that the Almanac was the Book all along?

But the Book said it was drifting in the void for millennia. Perhaps the Almanac was possessed, and became the Book? Was my fading consciousness a beacon for the Book to enter my mind? I open it.

"You are correct," the Book speaks. "I'm surprised you didn't figure that out sooner. I thought you'd remember better how we met. It's quite dismissive, really, to forget how you met a friend."

I'm not your friend. I never wanted to meet you. You came uninvited, and you've stayed long past my patience for you.

"So that's how you think of me, after all this time we've been together?"

Is it possible that I missed something? Have I selfishly dismissed an honest friend, ignoring their emotions and hopes? What if I told all those things to Jonas? I feel a sad longing, a pang of guilt. I know these aren't my thoughts. I try to regain my reason, and remember how I truly feel, but the sadness of it attracts me like a forgotten childhood memory. The feeling is so pointless... but I can't stop thinking about it. Why do I have these emotions?

"It's alright, Fristad. I understand. You can't figure out how you could have those emotions, because you feel out of place. First you skipped work to tirelessly create a new set of armor, and now all of a sudden you're traveling to a place you've never seen before. That's why you feel so uncomfortable in your own skin."

So you do understand. You know how difficult it's been.

I know there's been a conflict between us. It has hurt us both. I know that we had misunderstandings that seemed irreconcilable, but I'm glad we are at a consensus now.

But something still isn't right. I can't remember what is going on, or why I oppose these thoughts in the first place... I just know they're wrong!

"Why are you still so belligerent? What do you still have against me?"

I'm sorry. It's just that... I can't remember what it was exactly that bothered me. I can't think clearly about what I want to think anymore... but something about this is wrong! I know it's wrong... but I don't know how... or why. You did something to me... something important... you changed me somehow!

"I changed you?"

Yes. I'm not sure how, but you did, and there was some reason why I didn't want it to happen. Wait... never mind. It's not that I didn't want it to happen. I just couldn't figure out how I could have these emotions, because I feel out of place. That's why I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. I understand now! I want you to change me!

"That's wonderful. I never thought our relationship was this close. Perhaps I haven't had enough faith in you. In fact, I'm flattered. Have I really changed you so much already? Perhaps I should change you even more."

Yes.

I close the Book, and slide it into my pocket. Then I slide as deep into my sleeping bag as I can, and close my eyes. I feel as if I am falling through darkness, as the Book plunges me into the deepest of my subconsciousness.