The Fairy Diary Day 314 #TFDbyRWOz2

Meribabell writes:

Our ordeal has come to an end. Being held against one’s will is frightening – especially when you are bound and gagged and blindfolded. Worst of all, for me, was not knowing where my friends were and whether or not they were hurt or injured. 

It was Dunfallon who procured our release. Something about our captors was very familiar to him. It was a smell he recognized – a particularly pungent spice that dwarves use to season their food. He got the attention of his captors and after a protracted effort was able to convince them that we were not their enemies. 

Thus we were all introduced to a lost tribe of dwarves many ancestors of whom helped construct the great thoroughfare of the dwarves that connected the mines and what used to be their cities. 

Upon our reunion, the pixie was excited to explain to us what he had learned about our former captors. The great wealth they unearthed was the impetus behind the great rift that occurred long ago. They cut themselves off from other dwarves to keep it all for themselves. 

They were content with their choice until the dark elves arrived on the scene. Ever since the interlopers crushed them in battle they have lived in the shadows deep in some of the old mine shafts, doing their best to live their lives unnoticed. 

We will be taken down deeper to meet their king.

The Fairy Diary Day 313 #TFDbyRWOz2

The Narrator continues:

At last I awoke in my dream. And I saw my friends – one at a time – being held bound in separate places. Though I could make out their pensive faces, in no instance could I see the face of their captors. 

I wanted so badly to help them. My helplessness brought me to tears.

Day One Thousand Eighty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Our transition was only to a more lofty prison. Upon arrival our guards hustled one and all up to the floor beneath the penthouse. Promises were made of an audience above, immediately upon the return of the Supreme Commander.

The demeanor of our captors has improved towards us. They are cowed by these surroundings and no doubt in awe that their very presence here is in large part due to us.

We were allowed to converse and even given freedom to move about. The view was negligible though, given the darkness of the hour, but come morning it was unobstructed in every direction.

Far away in the dock area I saw what could only be the Captain’s beloved ‘rust bucket.’

Day One Thousand Eighty Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We haven’t budged from where we were captured yesterday. Our captors haven’t been too harsh beyond the first encounter. The bruises on Sy’s and the Captain’s heads notwithstanding. Despite our protestations that we are not spies, nor hold any animus against them, we are kept corralled together and forced to be quiet under the constant vigil of three guards.

The leader of the unit has no time for us and is intent on setting his defenses. So we have no one with which to plead our case to be taken to the Supreme Commander.

At least they are not curious about Mei’s presence with us. And they have not confiscated Elijah’s staff. Evidently they assume he needs it to walk.

Day Nine Hundred Fifty Three #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I have to shake off the creeping mindset that has been pushing aside the still, small voice of the Spirit. Vigilance is called for.

I have been so wound up in our own situation, wanting to be free, and desiring the same for our people here, that I was blinded to the turmoil in which our poor captors find themselves.

The very basis for their beliefs has been challenged, or one might say, ground to powder.

Reuben is helping me to see this.

Somehow we must show them the remedy to their disillusionment. And Reuben has pointed out what may be the key. They are men under authority, and with the one they know crumbling, they need the true one.

Day Nine Hundred Forty Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

It was a bumpy ride to Damascus. We weren’t allowed to talk. And our captors were tight-lipped as well. There was little we could do but look out the windows at the passing scenes.

At one point outside Damascus we were inching along in the congestion when I saw a tanker truck by the side of the road. In the cab I saw Elam and he saw me.

I still dwelt on the chance sighting this morning as they loaded us into the back of a windowless truck. We were still forbidden to speak, but somehow I knew that Elijah was more in the know than he let on.

By evening we were processed into a prison cell somewhere.

Day Eight Hundred Seventy Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Elijah offered no word of explanation for his actions of yesterday. Of course I knew he would’t. I learned of his ‘heroics’ from the widows via Meesa. Their captors succumbed to a heavy slumber upon his entrance. A similar condition marked all of their guards, they noted, as he led them out of the building.

But our leader did want to talk about our imminent departure. And we will not have to plan a lot of things as to organization. For the local authorities, wanting to be quit of us, will be forcing everyone out.

The best we can do is to try to be ready. And Jezer is already hard at work on that front.

I am assisting him.

Day Seven Hundred Thirty One #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We were feeling abandoned. And losing track of the time since we last saw our captors.

Then something happened that interrupted the passage of time. The sameness we had been locked into. The ground beneath our feet shuddered and heaved.

Was it an earthquake? Or something manmade and more sinister?

When the chamber quit shaking, the door fell open. It had sprung free from its frame.

We lost no time in exiting. Nothing and no one impeded our scramble up and out from the bottom of the dam.

All the sentry points in the area were deserted and a pungent odor pervaded everywhere.

We made one attempt to reach the city, but turned back at the sight of bodies everywhere.

Day Seven Hundred Thirty #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Hour upon hour passed by. And not a peep from our captors. Nor did anyone look in on us. Not even to deliver a morsel of bread that has been our daily allotment.

We can only speculate that they have their hands full elsewhere. My thoughts went immediately to the return of the tanker trucks with combat units.

Tomas tried the door at one point. It was still locked. But no one outside reacted to the ruckus it raised.

This inspired the Captain to again rummage through the chamber for anything that could jimmy the door. As in every time before there was nothing that wasn’t bolted down. His efforts only raised his frustration.

Elijah remained calm and waited patiently.

Day Seven Hundred #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Our captors were more uneasy than us. They had rushed to the side of the stricken officer, and were relieved that he still breathed. They kept their weapons trained on us, but at a respectful distance.

The commander was at a loss as to what to do with us. Once he settled it in his mind that what had happened was defensive and we had no inclination to go on offense, he put us in a room with twelve guards.

This morning he dispatched us with our detail to appear before the Supreme Commander of the army.

It was a long hike through ring after ring of army units to its hierarchical center.

Our weary day ended in more waiting.