I walked around the house, in search of some evidence of his travels. Surely he kept a journal? I combed the whole house but came up with nothing. But something had to be there, I just knew it. I read over his last note again. It struck me. I rushed upstairs, excitement overpowering my senses. There, hung above his bed, was a painting of a graveyard. I removed it from its place and unsurprisingly, there was a lever of some sort.
I pulled it. The bed moved slightly. There I saw a row of books, neatly arranged, and dates labelled on each. I took one of them and opened it, marvelling at the beautiful pictures and maps he had drawn.
The page I was on had a picture of a view from a great height. 'The Pinnacle of the World' read the caption. Accompanying it was the following:
"The rock is but a pebble
From the height that I now see it
Yet my pain is as massive as ever
Something I never could leave behind.
Was it for this that I left my house?
Was it the pain of being a island in a sea?
Islands can be sailed across to
Yet not a sailor reaches out across
The sea of isolation that surrounds
The isle of loneliness that I call home.
The pinnacle of the world
The height beyond reach
Yet I had surmounted it
Against the will of the legends
That so gripped people.
Perhaps I should be a sheep and not a wolf
Perhaps I should return from the exile
I imposed upon myself, yet why should I?
The wolf does not get along with sheep
And is feared and hated.
That which is unknown is hated,
Feared yet revered. Revered?
Perhaps, but not me.
I need to be on guard.
Him that I called friend is not
Him that I trusted is not worth it
No hate but no love either,
Traitors deserve to be betrayed
Yet I'm not an executioner
For shame! For the world,
At least from my viewpoint,
Might be entirely different.
Why should I stay when the whole world changes?
Why should it be that I suffer for the sins of others?
Onwards to the end, onwards all alone.
~FTW."
