The morning chill had not yet fully receded when Richard left the training yard.
The air remained cool, and a thin mist of early morning still hung over the stone walls.
After his conversation with Lloyd, he wanted to be alone for a while.
Not to think about what had been said, not to hear other people’s voices, and not to answer questions.
He simply wanted to walk, allowing his thoughts to slowly settle into place.
He moved slowly through the inner courtyard, leaning heavily on his cane.
Each step brought a dull ache, so from time to time Richard stopped to catch his breath and take in his surroundings.
The people around him continued with their daily business.
Someone carried water, someone hurried about their chores, and the quiet whinnying of horses drifted from the stables.
Life here went on as usual, as though nothing out of the ordinary were happening.
Richard let his gaze linger on the walls surrounding him.
Strange.
Only a few days ago, this place had seemed completely foreign to him.
He had walked through these courtyards without feeling any connection to them, as though he had ended up here by chance and could leave again at any moment.
Now, however, he had begun to notice things he had never even paid attention to before.
The old roof over the stables, darkened by years of weather and neglect.
The blackened beams, cracked in places.
The broken stone step beside the kitchen, which, judging by its condition, no one had any intention of repairing.
Several empty windows on the upper floor, behind which no light had shone for a long time.
Even the sword marks on the walls of the training yard—old, deep gashes left behind by countless lessons and bouts.
Richard slowly let his gaze travel across the entire courtyard, as though he were seeing it as a whole for the first time.
For some reason, every one of those little details seemed to tell him the same thing.
A home did not fall apart in a single day.
It died slowly.
Over the course of years.
Crack by crack, broken thing by broken thing, until it all gradually became ordinary and ceased to trouble anyone.
And the strangest part was that no one had even tried to stop the process.
No one had noticed the house beginning to fade.
Or perhaps they had noticed—but decided there was still time.
Richard stopped beside the wall, lingering there longer than he had intended.
An old crest had been carved into the stone.
A raven stood above a wolf, its wings spread wide, as though it towered over the beast and continued to silently guard what had once belonged to this house.
Once, the lines of the crest must have been sharp and deeply etched, but time had nearly erased them.
The stone was covered in fine cracks, and some of the details could no longer be made out.
Richard slowly ran his fingers over the cold surface.
Beneath his fingertips, he could feel the unevenness of the old carving.
“You have been silent for too long,” he murmured.
“Who are you talking to?” Richard flinched slightly and turned his head.
Kain stood a few steps away.
As always, he had appeared almost without a sound.
Richard had not even heard his footsteps.
The dark clothes sat perfectly on him.
His calm face betrayed neither surprise nor curiosity.
He stood utterly still, making not a single unnecessary movement, as though he could remain beside someone for several minutes without being noticed.
A sword hung at Kain’s waist.
Richard looked at the crest again, then turned his gaze to him.
“The house.” Kain did not answer at once.
He simply looked at the old crest, his gaze lingering on the image of the raven and the wolf.
For several seconds, silence hung between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the courtyard.
It seemed as though even the stone itself was waiting for him to speak.
“Did it answer you?” “No.” Richard smiled faintly, glancing once more at the old crest.
“Then perhaps you were talking to the wrong one.” Richard chuckled.
There was something so calm and straightforward about Kain’s words that arguing with him seemed pointless.
“Are you always like this?” Kain tilted his head slightly.
“Like what?” “Difficult.” Nothing changed in Kain’s expression, but the faintest flicker of amusement appeared in his eyes.
“Only when someone asks me questions.” Richard studied him for several seconds, trying to determine whether he was joking or speaking with complete seriousness.
Judging by his utterly impassive expression, Kain apparently saw nothing unusual about what he had said.
Richard leaned on his cane again and turned his gaze toward the training yard.
“Were you heading somewhere?” “To train Roy and Sean.” “Are they trained enough already?” “No.” The answer came so quickly that Richard could not help but smile.
“Then why are you training them?” Kain raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, as though the question were obvious.
“Because Lloyd can’t do everything alone.” Richard fell silent.
He looked back toward the courtyard, where voices and the dull sounds of blows could be heard.
There was more meaning in those simple words than Kain had probably intended to convey.
Here, everyone did what they could.
Even if, at times, it was not enough.
“And Sebastian?” “Sebastian doesn’t like being called a teacher.” Richard frowned slightly.
“Why?” Kain looked at him with the same calm expression.
“Because he knows all too well how poorly students listen.” This time, Richard could not suppress a smile.
There was a dry hint of mockery in Kain’s words, though his face remained completely serious.
“Will you show me?” Kain was silent for a few seconds, as though trying to understand exactly what Richard meant.
“Show you what?” “The training.” Kain gave a short nod.
“Of course.” He turned and headed toward the training yard.
Richard followed, moving his cane slowly and doing his best to keep up.
He was curious to see how the people here were trained.
After his recent conversation with Lloyd, he had begun to notice more and more that he was looking at everything around him differently.
A few minutes later, they reached the training grounds.
Roy and Sean were already standing in the middle of the yard.
Both held wooden swords and were waiting for the next exercise to begin.
Roy was taller than Sean and noticeably more muscular.
His shoulders were broader, his movements heavier and more confident.
Yet a closer look revealed quite a few flaws in his stance.
He stood too wide, his feet set farther apart than necessary.
His weight constantly shifted from one leg to the other, causing his body to sway slightly.
From the outside, it looked as though he were preparing to deliver a powerful blow, but in reality, the stance hindered his ability to move quickly and change direction.
Kain stopped at the edge of the training ground and watched him in silence.
Richard’s gaze lingered on Roy as well.
He still had no idea what Kain intended to do, but he could already feel that the real training was about to begin.
Sean, by contrast, held himself more calmly.
His stance looked neater, his movements more controlled, and he held the wooden sword with confidence.
At first glance, everything seemed to be in order.
But Richard quickly noticed a different problem.
Sean was watching his opponent too closely and paid almost no attention to his own feet.
It was as though he were afraid of missing even the slightest movement from Roy, and so forgot to control his own position.
As a result, his steps became less certain, and his balance could give way at any moment.
Kain stopped in front of them and carefully looked over both boys.
For several seconds, he said nothing, allowing his silence to make the students uncomfortable.
Then he said calmly: “Again.” Roy let out a heavy breath and lowered his wooden sword.
“We’ve already done this twenty times.” “Then the twenty-first will change nothing.” Roy looked at him with obvious displeasure.
“What if we’re still making mistakes?” Kain’s expression did not change.
“Then the twenty-second.” Roy frowned even more deeply.
He already seemed to regret asking the question in the first place.
“And what if we still do after that?” Kain stared at him, utterly unfazed, for several seconds before answering in the same calm tone: “Then you’ll die on the twenty-third.” Silence fell over the courtyard for a few moments.
Sean could not hold back and quietly snickered, covering his smile with one hand.
Roy immediately shot him an irritated look.
“Very funny.” Sean shrugged, trying to keep a serious expression on his face.
Meanwhile, Kain had already returned to his original position.
“You can keep laughing after the training.” Roy sighed heavily and raised his wooden sword again.
Watching them from the side, Richard smiled faintly.
It seemed Kain really did have a way of his own when it came to making people listen.
The First Strike “Not funny,” Roy muttered, still glaring at Sean.
“A little,” Sean replied calmly.
“Are you two finished?” Kain’s voice immediately brought them back to the training.
Both students straightened and stopped exchanging glances.
Roy tightened his grip on the wooden sword, while Sean stepped back, clearing some space between them.
Kain raised his own training sword.
His movements were unhurried and precise, without the slightest trace of haste.
“Roy.” “Yes?” “Attack.” Roy did not wait to be told twice.
He suddenly lunged forward, pushing off the ground with a speed unexpected for someone of his build.
The movement was sharp and swift.
He was fast.
Very fast for a student.
His first strike came down from above, aimed directly at Kain’s shoulder.
But Kain did not even bother to block it.
At the last moment, he simply stepped aside, and Roy’s wooden sword cut through empty air.
Roy immediately turned and struck again.
Kain stepped aside once more.
No sudden movement, no attempt to intercept the weapon—as though he already knew exactly where the next blow would land.
Roy clenched his teeth and continued his assault.
Another strike.
Again, Kain merely shifted, leaving exactly enough distance between them to remain out of reach of the sword.
Richard watched closely.
From the outside, it all looked almost too simple.
Roy attacked.
Kain dodged.
But the longer Richard watched, the clearer it became: Kain was not merely avoiding the blows.
He was making Roy move exactly where he wanted him to.
The third strike followed almost immediately.
Kain leaned away by barely a few inches, and Roy’s wooden sword once again swept past him.
He did not even try to retreat—he merely shifted his body slightly, maintaining his balance.
Roy began to lose his temper.
At first, it showed only in his tense shoulders and tightening fingers.
Then his movements became noticeably sharper.
Rougher.
He stopped controlling every step and increasingly relied on his strength, trying to break through his opponent’s defense with a single powerful strike.
But with that strength came a loss of caution.
His movements became more direct and predictable with every attack.
That was exactly what Kain had been waiting for.
He allowed Roy to make another lunge, then calmly stepped forward and lightly touched his wooden sword against the boy’s shoulder.
“Dead.” Roy froze, breathing heavily.
For several seconds, he stared at Kain before reluctantly stepping back.
“Again.” Kain lowered his sword, allowing him to return to his starting position.
Roy wiped the sweat from his forehead with his palm and tightened his grip on the weapon once more.
He attacked again.
This time, Kain allowed him to come closer.
Kain parried it.
The second.
He shifted his body slightly, letting the wooden blade pass by him.
The third strike followed almost without pause.
Kain caught it on his own sword, and the dry crack of wood against wood echoed across the courtyard.
Roy continued pressing forward.
The fourth.
This time, Kain did not retreat.
He remained where he was, watching his student’s movements closely, as though waiting for a particular moment.
Richard noticed that Roy was moving differently now.
He was still tense, but he was no longer charging forward blindly.
Each successive step seemed harder for him, yet there was gradually more control in his movements.
Kain still said nothing.
He simply continued to let Roy attack.
Kain waited for the next strike, then suddenly caught Roy’s weapon.
He twisted his body, redirected the wooden sword to the side, and with one precise movement knocked it from Roy’s hands.
The sword hit the ground with a dull thud.
Roy stared at it for several seconds, breathing heavily, then muttered an irritated curse.
“I almost hit you.” “No.” Roy looked up at Kain.
“Why?” Kain calmly met his gaze.
“Because you wanted to hit me.” Roy frowned, clearly not understanding what he meant.
“What else am I supposed to want?” Kain did not answer immediately.
He picked up the wooden sword from the ground and held it out to Roy, making him take the weapon again.
“To win.” Roy fell silent.
This time, he did not argue.
Kain looked at him intently and continued: “They’re two different things.” Richard had been listening closely the entire time.
He did not interrupt or ask any questions.
He simply watched the training, gradually realizing that Kain was teaching them not so much how to strike, but how to think during a fight.
Richard shifted his gaze from Roy to Kain.
Kain had already turned away.
Then he turned toward Sean.
“You.” Sean silently raised his sword and stepped forward.
His expression grew serious, and his earlier smile disappeared.
He stood facing Kain and prepared to attack.
“Good.” Sean tightened his grip on the wooden sword and moved forward, but unlike Roy, he did not immediately rush into an attack.
He advanced more cautiously, taking his time as he closed the distance between himself and Kain.
He watched.
He kept his eyes on Kain’s hands, the position of his body, every step he took.
Richard almost immediately understood what set Sean apart from Roy.
Roy tried to impose his own pace on his opponent and defeat him through strength and sheer force.
Sean, on the other hand, first tried to understand Kain, to find a pattern in his movements, and only then commit to a strike.
Kain made several movements, deliberately changing his position and forcing Sean to react.
Sean stepped back.
Once.
Then another step.
Twice.
He continued to watch Kain closely, never taking his eyes off him.
Three.
It seemed Sean still had no intention of attacking, merely waiting for the right moment.
Then, suddenly, he lunged forward.
The strike was quick and precise, but Kain managed to bring his wooden sword up in time.
A dry crack rang out, and Sean’s weapon slid along his blade.
But Sean did not stop.
He immediately turned his sword, changing the direction of the attack, and tried to strike from below, aiming for Kain’s torso.
This time, Kain did not meet the blow.
He stepped back, leaving Sean’s attack hanging in front of him, and looked at him closely once more.
Richard noticed that, for the first time, something resembling approval appeared on Kain’s face.
Only slightly.
But Sean seemed to notice it too.
For a moment, Richard thought Sean had actually managed to force Kain to retreat.
The attack had been unexpected, and this time Kain had not simply allowed his opponent to come closer—he had been forced to shift his position and take a step back.
But in the very next moment, everything changed.
Kain was suddenly at Sean’s side.
Richard had not even noticed when exactly he had moved.
The wooden sword lightly touched Sean’s chest, stopping just against the fabric of his clothes.
“Dead.” Sean froze, then slowly lowered his weapon.
Disappointment flickered across his face, but there was also genuine confusion.
“I thought you wouldn’t make it in time.” Kain lowered his sword.
“Neither did I.” Roy, who had been silently watching the bout, looked at him in surprise.
“What?” Kain turned his gaze to Sean and smiled faintly.
“You did it right.” Sean clearly had not expected that answer.
“But I lost.” “That’s not the same thing.” Sean fell silent, considering his words.
Richard said nothing either.
He watched Kain closely, trying to understand why those simple words had affected him more deeply than anything else he had heard that morning.
He remembered them.
Kain really did seem to be teaching his students far more than simply how to wield a sword.
Behind every remark, every brief answer, there was something more—experience he never explained directly, but instead made them discover for themselves.
Richard looked at Roy and Sean again.
Perhaps that was why Lloyd trusted Kain to train them.
He was teaching them how to survive.
The thought took shape in Richard’s mind with unexpected clarity.
Now he was beginning to understand why Kain was so calm about their mistakes and why he never hurried to praise them, even when they did something right.
To him, training seemed to be about more than simply preparing for a fight.
Meanwhile, Kain turned toward Richard.
“Now you.” Richard froze for a moment, as though he had misheard.
Then he raised an eyebrow.
“Me?” “You wanted to see the training.” “I was watching.” A faint smile appeared on Richard’s lips.
He was beginning to suspect where this was going.
“Exactly,” Kain replied calmly.
Richard looked at him, then shifted his gaze to his cane.
“And what do you suggest?” Kain stepped closer, stopping in front of him.
“Testing your reaction.” Richard instinctively glanced at his cane again.
At that moment, it seemed like a far more convincing argument against the idea than any words could have been.
“I’m afraid you’re overestimating what this body can do.” Kain held his gaze for a moment.
“Perhaps.” There was neither mockery nor doubt in his voice.
Only the calm confidence of someone who intended to find out for himself.
Kain extended his hand.
“The cane.” Richard did not immediately understand what Kain meant.
His hand remained extended between them.
“What?” “Give it to me.” Richard looked at Kain, then at his cane, tightening his grip on the handle.
“Why?” Kain did not explain right away.
His gaze dropped briefly to Richard’s hand before returning to his face.
“Because you rely on it too heavily.” Richard frowned.
“It’s a medical necessity.” “I know.” The same calmness remained in Kain’s voice.
He understood Richard’s condition perfectly well and had no intention of arguing with the obvious.
“Then?” “I want to understand how weak you really are.” For several seconds, they stared at each other in silence.
Richard felt irritation rising within him.
Kain’s words were too direct, almost blunt.
But there was no mockery in his voice.
Roy and Sean had also gone still, watching them.
Even they, accustomed to their mentor’s manner, seemed unsure of how the conversation would end.
Yet Kain did not look confrontational.
He was not trying to humiliate Richard or put him in an awkward position.
There was neither superiority nor pity in his expression.
Only a calm desire to test what he was talking about.
Richard looked at the cane again.
Kain was still holding out his hand, patiently waiting for an answer.
He simply wanted to know.
Richard stared at the outstretched hand for a few more moments before slowly loosening his fingers and handing Kain the cane.
For the first time in a long while, he was without it.
Almost immediately, things became harder.
Without his familiar support, his body seemed to lose its sense of stability.
Richard felt his legs tremble slightly beneath the weight of his own body, and keeping his balance suddenly became unnaturally difficult.
He took his first step.
Almost normally.
He carefully placed his foot on the stone and shifted his weight onto it.
Then he took a second.
This time, the movement was more difficult, but he managed to keep his balance.
The third step was different.
His knee suddenly buckled, and his body lurched to the side.
Kain was beside him instantly, ready to support him, but Richard immediately raised a hand, stopping him.
“Don’t.” Kain froze.
He did not argue or try to reach out again.
He simply took half a step back, giving Richard room.
Richard drew a deep breath.
For several seconds, he stood perfectly still, feeling the weakness in his legs and the unpleasant tension throughout his body.
Then he forced himself to straighten.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
But on his own.
He raised his head and looked at Kain.
Kain watched him in silence, still holding the cane in his hand.
There was neither pity nor mockery in his gaze.
Only attention.
With difficulty.
But on his own.
Richard stood motionless for several seconds, listening to his own body and trying not to show just how much those few steps had cost him.
Then he turned his gaze to Kain.
“Enough?” Kain watched him in silence for several seconds.
His gaze remained calm and attentive, as though he were assessing not only how well Richard had managed to stay on his feet, but also what it had cost him to take those few steps.
“For now.” He held out the cane.
Richard took it and almost immediately felt the familiar support beneath his palm.
The tension in his legs eased slightly, and he allowed himself to cautiously shift some of his weight onto it.
Then he looked at Kain.
“Were you testing my balance?” “No.” The answer was so calm that Richard frowned slightly.
“Then what?” Kain did not answer immediately.
For a few moments, he looked away, as though deciding whether he should say what he was about to say at all.
Roy and Sean had also fallen silent, watching him closely.
Finally, Kain looked at Richard again.
“I wanted to understand how much of the man you used to be is still left in you.” Richard froze.
The words were nothing like what he had expected.
For a moment, all expression disappeared from Richard’s face.
He simply stared at Kain, unsure of what to say.
Roy and Sean exchanged glances.
Even they could tell that their mentor’s last words were no longer part of the training.
Kain seemed to realize that he had said too much.
But he did not take his words back.
He simply tightened his grip on Richard’s cane, which he was still holding before finally handing it back to its owner, and calmly held Richard’s gaze.
Silence settled between them once more.
This time, it felt entirely different.
“And?” Richard kept his eyes on Kain, waiting for some kind of explanation.
After what he had said, a strange feeling remained inside him, as though Kain had cracked open a door to his past but had no intention of telling him what he had seen behind it.
Kain looked him directly in the eyes.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
“I don’t know.” And, as though that was the end of the conversation, he turned away.
“Training is over.” Roy, still holding his wooden sword, raised it indignantly.
“But we’re not finished yet!” Kain did not even stop.
“Exactly.” Roy let out an irritated breath but did not argue any further.
Sean simply lowered his sword and watched Kain leave.
Kain soon disappeared through the door of the training yard.
Richard continued to watch him for a while.
His words kept echoing in his mind, making it impossible to calmly turn his attention to anything else.
Then he shifted his gaze toward the entrance.
Sebastian was standing there.
Richard frowned.
He had not even noticed when he appeared.
Like Kain, Sebastian had an unsettling ability to show up nearby without making a sound.
Richard remained silent for a few seconds before finally asking: “Does he always talk like that?” Sebastian looked in the direction Kain had gone, then turned his gaze back to Richard.
“With you?” “Yes.” Sebastian smiled faintly.
Apparently, Richard’s question did not surprise him in the slightest.
“No.” Richard frowned.
Sebastian’s answer had been far too brief to satisfy his curiosity.
“Then why now?” Sebastian watched Kain for a while as he disappeared through the door of the training yard.
“Because he’s trying to understand who he’s looking at.” Richard lowered his gaze to his cane, thinking for a moment.
“And what did he see?” A faint smile appeared on Sebastian’s face.
“That’s better asked of him.” He said nothing more.
Later, Richard found Kain on the western wall.
By then, the day had changed noticeably.
The cold had intensified, and dusk was slowly settling over the inner courtyard.
Beyond the walls lay a snow-covered yard, blanketed in an even layer of white.
The tracks in the snow were gradually being covered, and everything around them seemed unnaturally quiet.
Kain stood alone, resting his hands on the stone edge of the wall and gazing into the distance.
Richard approached.
Kain heard his footsteps but did not turn around.
For several seconds, Richard said nothing, gathering his thoughts.
Eventually, he stopped beside him.
“You knew me before.” Kain did not turn.
“Yes.” The brief answer only left Richard with more questions.
He looked out over the snow-covered courtyard, then back at Kain.
“What was I like?” Kain said nothing.
The silence stretched on.
Richard did not rush him.
He simply waited, understanding that whatever answer Kain was about to give might be far more important than anything he had told him before.
“Lloyd said people wanted to follow you.” Kain finally turned his head and looked at Richard.
There was none of his usual detachment in his gaze.
This time, it was as though he were truly looking at the man standing beside him.
“Lloyd was telling the truth.” Richard was surprised.
He had expected an entirely different answer—doubt, evasiveness, or at least the usual silence.
“You think so too?” “Yes.” The short answer came with certainty.
Richard studied him for several seconds before asking: “Then why do you look at me as though you’re not sure?” Kain turned away again and looked out over the snow-covered courtyard.
The white surface below was almost motionless, with only the occasional gust of wind lifting a thin veil of snow from the ground.
He remained silent for a long time.
Richard had already begun to think there would be no answer, but at last Kain said quietly: “Because a person can change.” Richard frowned.
“After an illness?” Kain slowly turned his gaze toward him.
“After death.” Richard froze.
The words were spoken with complete calm, without the slightest trace of drama, which somehow made them all the heavier.
For several seconds, he even forgot about the cold.
Kain looked straight ahead again.
“I’m sorry.” Richard did not immediately know how to respond.
“For what?” Kain gave a barely perceptible shake of his head.
“It doesn’t matter.” He pushed himself away from the stone edge of the wall and was already about to leave.
Richard watched him go but did not stop him immediately.
Kain’s last words were still echoing in his mind.
After death.
And for some reason, they now seemed far more important than anything else that had been said that day.
“Kain.” Kain stopped, already preparing to leave.
For several seconds, Richard stared at his back before finally speaking.
“Do you think I died?” Kain did not answer.
He simply stood there, perfectly still, without turning to face him.
But the silence was enough.
Richard slowly tightened his fingers around the handle of his cane.
Something inside him clenched uncomfortably, though he himself could not understand what exactly he had expected from this conversation.
“Sometimes I think so too.” For the first time, Kain looked at him with something resembling surprise.
Only for a moment.
Richard noticed the look but did not continue the conversation.
He turned away, gazing out over the snow-covered courtyard, and said quietly: “Go.” Kain remained where he was for a few seconds, then gave a short nod.
He had already taken a step toward the stairs when he stopped.
“My lord.” Richard turned his head.
“Yes?” Kain looked somewhere over his shoulder.
At the old crest carved above the gate.
The raven towered over the wolf, darkened by time and nearly worn away by the years.
“If you truly want to restore this House…” Kain paused briefly, as though choosing his final words.
Then he looked at Richard again.
“Don’t try to become the Richard you used to be.” Richard said nothing.
He had heard those words from others in many different forms.
But now they sounded different.
Not like advice.
Like a warning.
Kain watched him for a few more seconds before adding: “The Richard you used to be is gone.” And, without waiting for a response, he walked down the stairs.
Richard was left alone.
Before him was the same old crest.
The same raven.
The same wolf.
Only now, Richard looked at it quite differently.
Richard raised his gaze.
“Why?” Kain answered calmly: “Because he is already dead.” With those words, Kain left, leaving Richard alone.
Snow continued to fall, slowly swirling through the cold air and settling in a thin white layer over the stone walls.
Silence descended once more, and Richard found himself looking up at the old crest above the gate.
At the image of the raven towering over the wolf.
The stone had darkened with age, and the lines of the crest had nearly been worn away, but Richard looked at it differently now.
He stood motionless for a long time, remembering everything that had happened over the past few days.
Until recently, he had wanted to turn everything back—the old order, his former life, and perhaps even his former self.
But now, that desire was gone.
For the first time, Richard felt no need to reclaim the man he had once been.
Perhaps Kain had been right.
Perhaps the old Richard really was dead.
And the one who now stood here, among the old walls and falling snow… Had yet to become himself.
Richard slowly exhaled and tightened his grip on his cane.
In the distance, beyond the estate walls, a long howl rang out.
He raised his head and looked toward the stables.
A white wolf pup stood there.
It made no sound and did not move from its place.
It simply stared north, its ears pricked, as though listening for something far away.
Something the others could not hear yet.
Richard watched it for a while, then looked back at the old crest.
Once, this symbol had told the story of the past.
Now, for the first time, Richard thought that perhaps he no longer needed to bring the past back.
Perhaps it was time for him to create something new.