CHAPTER 5 Isolation
9/23/137
I awoke still lying
on the shore of the lake. The bodies of my friends and the shards were gone.
The arrow in my
chest had been removed. The wound had been healed.
I tried to end my
torment with Nosfentre's sword.
But the wraiths—they
will not let me die.
* * *
10/5/137
The wraiths are
gone.
I eat very little
these days. I often roam the shores of this island for hours. Sometimes I
imagine meeting my friends. They are sitting around a campfire. "Come Johne,"
Faulina says, patting the earth next to her. "Join us." Both Nosfentre and
Astarol nod their approval. So I sit with them and we talk and laugh, dine and
drink, until they fade away, leaving me alone in the Underworld. I continue to
talk, even though they are gone, and stop only when I begin to weep.
I am sorry, my
friends.
I am sorry.
* * *
10/11/137
They returned.
I was eating dinner
when the wraiths emerged from the walls of my cabin. They did nothing, merely
watched me as I ate until, at last, I screamed at them to leave. When they did
not, I dropped to my knees and begged.
They said nothing as
they vanished into the gloom.
* * *
10/20/137
The wraiths. They torment me.
Each night they
grant me visions.
Britain, Jhelom,
Moonglow—the wraiths show me the evil they have begun to foster in these towns,
the darkness they cultivate within the good folk of Britannia. No one is aware
of them or their purpose, not even Lord Blackthorn, whom the wraiths visit each
night as he sleeps, watching him, haunting his dreams, nurturing his fears and
ambitions.
Oh, Faulina . . .
What have I done?
* * *
|