I have searched every inch of the countryside of Spain for Alcalá de Pirma. All I have found are skeletal trees, jagged cliff faces, and starving villages. 

This winter is hard. I am told it is harder than most. 

As for Alcalá de Pirma, there is no sign of her. The villages that speak of her give me vague and contradicting directions. 

"Toward the mountains"

"I believe my cousin found her when going to the sea"

"North, following the screaming gulls"

"East, past the river and near the valley"

I have been on every mountain and in every valley, there are no gulls to follow in this brutal winter, and there are countless rivers in my beautiful country of Spain. 

I am beginning to think Alcalá de Pirma is a folktale meant to keep people like me searching. But I cannot stop. There is a spark in my fingertips. 

Oh how I long to duel someone worthy of my blade.