The night in the tavern held little rest for the man. In his sleep, memories came. Nightmares. Of times long gone, but with screams still loud.

He tossed himself in his sleep, his bed creaking beneath him. He could feel the heat and see the events coming to life once more.

'No,' he said in his sleep. 'Don't do this. Please. No! NO!' he shouted as he jumped up, covered in sweat, gasping for air.

Part of his mind realized what just happened. So he got to the routine. He touched the covers beneath him. It was rough and sturdy. But not the ground. He touched his blanket. It was surprising soft and warm. But not that warm. For a moment, he wondered why he even had it. After all, he remembered that Wolf and Scythian helped him up to his room. He had a little too much beer at the party last night. Yes, he was partying last night. Not fighting. He looked outside the window. If he had to guess, it was around noon. He quickly got out of bed, gathered his belongings (carefully putting the sword on his belt), and headed downstairs. Scythian was already there, fresh as always.

'Good morning, my good boy! Did you sleep well?' he asked with a smile. That question revived the images of his nightmare. He could hear the screams again for a moment; it felt like an eternity. When they passed, the old fighter was looking at him with great concern.

'Are you alright, my friend?' he asked while putting his hand on the man's shoulder.

'Im fine.' said the traveler. Both of them knew he was lying. Scythian wanted to say something, but Wolf just came down, interrupting the two.

'Morning.' he said. He looked beaten up, like he fought an entire army alone.

Not surprising; after all, he was the reason the tavern ran out of beer the night before. The wanderer was relieved that he didn't have to continue the conversation with Scythian.

'Alright, if everyone is here, let go. We had our fair share of rest.' the ranger said.

'Are you sure?' asked the warmaster with a mocking voice. 'That lady from yesterday was asking about you after we put you in your room and-'

The man interrupted with a temper in his voice.

'Let's just go!' he said. On his way out, he tossed a bag of coins to the innkeeper and barged out of the settlement. Wolf was surprised and turned to Scythian.

'Whats his problem?'

The old spearman looked out of his head, wandering about that question.

The company has left the town. By late afternoon, they were on the outskirts, and the road was surrounded by trees. The skies were gray. A storm was almost upon them. The man was six feet ahead of the group ever since they left the inn. He was lost in his own thoughts. To be fair, it wasn't a surprise to the group, as it happened often. But this time it was different. The only one who got to walk beside him was the Hollow. While the creature did not show itself to anyone outside the three of them, the guides knew what the increase in speed meant for the creature. It was getting stronger as the man got more troubled.

Looking at the sky, the veteran made the suggestion.

'We should make camp here.' he said. 'It's as good a place as any. I have no desire to get wet or get lost in the storm. And we can test out the new tent we got,' he said loudly. Almost shouting to make the man hear him.

'Let's just go for a little more,' said the wanderer. 'Maybe we can find better shelter.'

Scythian heard the man's voice.

He was patient, but sometimes he had to make a stand. This was one of those times. He quickly jumped forward, becoming a dark blue blur to the rest of the group (even to Wolf), and suddenly stood before the man. The traveler stopped and looked at him.

'It's not just that, my friend,' said the duelist. 'We need to talk.'

The man looked at his old guide. He stood firmly on his feet, and this time, his significant smile gave way to a stern look. He thought for a moment. Looking at the sky. Of the place they were, and finally to the hollow. Then he let out a sigh.

'You are right. There's something I want to ask the two of you about.'

The new tent they bought was huge, compared to the previous ones. It had four separate sections, one for each of them (even though Hollow wouldn't require one). There was a space in between them where the group sat down, in the company of an oil lamp. Scythian was the one who broke the silence.

'My friend, something troubles you. I heard it from my room that last night you were talking to yourself. Did you have a nightmare of some kind?'

The man thought for a moment and answered.

'Not nightmares. Memories. Memories of my failure.' he said. On his face, it was clear: this incident was dramatic for him.

'What happened?' asked the retired duelist.

'I...' started the man but could not finish. The scenes flashed before his eyes.

'That doesn't matter. You wouldn't get it.'

'Really?' Wolf joined in. 'You think we had not seen people die before our eyes?'

The warmaster's eyes said everything. His words dug deep into the travelers souls. He was not ready to talk about it. Not yet.

'Look, that's not what I wanted to ask,' he exclaimed. 'You were right; I do need to talk about something. You both are my guides, so guide me: how do you deal with failure? How do you process it? How do you live with the memories of it?'

The questions surprised the guides. They wanted to know the specifics, as the wanderer never shared nearly anything about his past.

After a little thinking, it was the aged warrior, once again, who spoke.

'Well, first of all, what do you consider a failure? Is it a failure, for example, when you decide to go a certain distance but a storm or an overflowing river blocks your path?'

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With a little pause, Wolf answered.

'Well, you can overcome those obstacles if you are good enough.'

'Yes, you can,' replied the spearman. 'But still, it remains a question if it's a failure, since-'

'No, no.' the man quickly interjected. He knew how it would go. The two would argue for hours on a topic completely different from his question.

'Let me clarify then. When someone does not go my way, that's not my fault. I know that much. I can be frustrated about it, but in the end, I have no control over it. What I meant is the events where you give your all, do everything you can, but still fail. Doing your best for the outcome you want but still being defeated.'

'Well, I think it's pretty obvious.' said the grim berserker. 'If you give your all and do your best for something but still fall none the less, than you are not enough. Weak. You do not possess the dedication or strength to triumph. Also, you need to punish yourself for it. To learn discipline and to remind yourself what not to do. After all, all actions have consequences.'

Unknowingly, the last sentence cut deep into the man. The sounds of crushing bones came alive to him. But the true meaning of what the veterans thought was no shallow thing either. From a factual point of view, he was right as well. He was weak back then. No more than a child who was trying to be an adult. He tested the limits, and he found that they were closer than he thought. His failure may have been a weakness of his character and knowledge. About the punishing part, he was not so sure. Wasn't the memory and the feelings painful enough? Or should he have taken a vow of silence, or perhaps a pilgrimage? The older guide must have had the same thoughts.

'I don't agree with that. Failures are a natural part of life. You can't live your life concentrating on your shortcomings, otherwise, you would be stuck in the past, never moving forward. And punishing yourself for things that are natural is never a good thing. What is the next thing we should punish ourselves for because we take too much air? No, I believe that the healthiest thing is that you forget your failures and move on from them. So you can live a healthier life without the drawbacks of the past and focus on the moment. Be kind to yourself. You are not a golem; you will do things wrong. But you can also move on.'

As the old guide finished, the traveler wandered. His points were certainly more appealing than those of the veterans. Being able to move on and not live in the past was an important value as well. One could not live his fullest life while being stuck in the past. Still, the skill to forgive himself did not come naturally to him. To forget the actions of his past also seemed unnatural. He suddenly remembered that he had a similar conversation once. While he tried to remember and see the value of both sides, the guides continued to argue.

'Well, you do take up too much air,' said the master of war mockingly. 'What nonsense! Forget the past and just move on. Clearly, you have not been through as much as we have. It's an impossible task. You will always remember your shortcomings the most. They are too strong memories to erase. You may forget them for a moment, but if something similar happens before your eyes, someone says the wrong words, or even the wind just blows the same way, they will come back. And then you have to restart the battle all over again. But if you remember them and, through the punishments you took, strengthen yourself, you can deal with the constant pain of this world and the numerous failures ahead.'

'Now look, he's acting like he's the only one who has seen war.' said the old fighter, a little hurt. 'Trust me, I have seen my fair share of suffering. I lost my share of people close to me!' the old guide stopped for a moment. 'But it would not help either them or me to get stuck in their memory. Or the memory of my -without a doubt- imposing list of failures.Who would benefit from blaming myself constantly and torturing myself for events I cannot change? You cannot change the past, but you can change your future! The memories of these traumas are just holding you back. If you live in the moment, you will no longer have a limit! There will be other instances, of course, where you cannot succeed, but you can get over them quickly, not slowing yourself down in your way, just to hurt yourself even more.'

'Ever the bright sider I see.' Wolf grabbed his head in annoyance. 'How can you get better without discipline? How can you find whats missing from you by seeing the lost battles as road bumps rather than a mountain to climb?'

'By seeing inside yourself, of course. There is limitless power there,' said Scythian.

Before the grim warrior could answer, the man remembered an old teaching he had heard long ago.

'Failures are what you make them.' he said with a smile on his face.

'Excuse me?' asked Wolf in surprise.

'An old philosopher told me this once. It is a teaching I have forgotten, but it is true none the less. He said that any failure in our lives is what we make of it. If we want, they are nothing more than a bump on the road. A little side note about our long list of things we did. But they can also be a great learning opportunity if we use them right. We can look back at them with the eyes of a researcher, analyze them, and know what to do and what not to do next time. In other words, all of the shortcomings are a lesson we can take, which we don't have to forget but doesn't have to hold us back either.'

The guides were set back for a moment, thinking of their events, which may be looked up at in these different lights. Maybe the warmaster does not have to fear moving on anymore. Maybe the spearman does not have to throw away the bad memories, suppressing them in the back of his mind. After a while, the master of battles turned to speak.

'Still, there are times when you have to take action to make sure you get the message.'

'If that's what serves the purpose of learning, then yes.' said the traveler. 'But that's something that everyone has to discover for themselves. No one learns the same way.'

'That sentiment is something to consider for sure.' spoke up for the retired hero. 'But to be able to get to the point where you can truly learn from them—even if it is through punishment, as Wolf says—you have to be able to forgive yourself. To accept that the event has happened. You failed and you cant change that, but can learn from that. Are you capable of that, my friend?'

The man knew the answer but could not speak.

'That is a discussion of another time, my old companion. Now it's time to sleep. We will leave at dawn this time.' He got up and headed to his section.

Then, there was one last question left. One that came in a voice similar but different. One that shocked all three of the previous conversational partners.

'In your dream, you said a name. Whose name was it?' asked the Hollow.

All three warriors stared at the creature with complete shock. It has never spoken since that night it joined the group. Why now?

The man stared at the shadow. Thinking of the answer. The name. The person it belonged to. Then, as he closed his section, he simply said,.

'Good night.'