[ A record of how Max spent the next year and a half inside the time chamber ]
The seasons within the Time Chamber had cycled repeatedly, and nearly a year and a half had passed since Max began his training to understand the language of the wind. The constant repetition of his training, the absence of sight, the endless exploration of the wind's nuances, had gradually become a part of him.
Max could sense a rhythm now, a melody hidden within the language of the wind that was growing clearer with each passing day. He had grown comfortable with his sightless existence in the chamber, using the wind as his eyes and guide, and he was beginning to understand its complex language.
