Day Eight Hundred Forty Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I swung around at the first puff of a breeze on the back of my neck. Floating on its variable current, snowflakes fluttered as though down from the moon. I stood enraptured, following the ephemeral choreography and brushing away accumulations from my eyes and beard.

The spell was broken when the moon hid behind the clouds, and I looked down to see my feet covered up to the ankles.

I turned back only to discover that Elijah had continued on, his form just visible in the swirl.

I had to run to catch up.

He chuckled as I rejoined him, saying, “The view is just as good forward.”

And added, “Enjoy, it’ll be gone by second watch.”

And it was.

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Day Eight Hundred Forty One #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We stared and stared at the western horizon as we chose our camp for the day. And I could not but help continue to inspect the sight each time when serving my watch.

The tiniest of bumps disturbed the line of the horizon. A mountain it was not. A hill maybe.

Elijah and I discussed it when exchanging places. He was certain it was what we were looking for. But suggested that we wait until it ‘grows’ in stature before turning in its direction.

At day’s end when we arose to resume our march, some low-lying clouds obscured the western horizon.

Elijah smiled at me and asked what I thought about fasting until our hill grows into a mountain.

Day Seven Hundred Thirty Nine #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

By the time we went into camp last night, the view of our surroundings was cut off by a thick fog. Or they may have been clouds, given our elevation.

This morning, whether it was clouds or fog, they had all dissipated under the gaze of the rising sun. And we could then see the lake winking at us far below.

The way ahead was more difficult, narrowing down to a mere track. Beside us water splashed down the rock bed of the ever present brook.

I looked ahead and could see Tomas stopped on a precipice. And guessed the destination our army companions.

Flashes of white behind Tomas drew my eye to a glacier on the next mountain peak.

Day Six Hundred Twenty #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The sun arose unopposed by clouds. It grew warmer each passing minute.

We bid goodbye to our neighbor, thanking him for the cool draft of water his friendship had been to us.

But we had gotten no further than the crossroads when a squad of soldiers blocked our way. Their leader recognized Elijah and ordered his men to arrest him.

Elijah took one step towards them and they fell backward to the ground. Their leader raised a weapon and Elijah merely breathed in his direction.

He was incinerated before our eyes, the flames spreading to the others as they arose to oppose us.

The Captain led the way from there.

Finding the camp empty we pushed on in their wake.

Day Four Hundred Eighty Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Another hot, dusty day has left me longing for the rains of yesterday. Meager clouds scudded along overhead with not a hint of cooling relief.

But we discovered a stream which flows over a rocky bed and stopped to refresh ourselves. It felt wonderful to wash the dust off of our feet. We took to the road again with a renewed spring to our step.

Conversation circled around the continuing lack of people. We passed through a couple of intact villages. All signs point to a hurried abandonment by the inhabitants.

They appeared to have fled in the same direction we are heading.

Elijah thinks that we may overtake some of them before much longer.
We both hope so.

Day Four Hundred Sixty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Clouds gave way to blue skies today. Opening to our view, the seas that stretch interminably before us.

In my downtime a thought flitted across my consciousness. It was so easy to imagine that we had sailed off the face of the earth. Is there any land left out there in that vastness we have not been to?

Elijah responded to my musings. He said our journey was far from over. If only because he does not sense a release from his charge. But he added that we should take full advantage of these times of peace to recharge and prepare. For a time is coming when we shall have no respite from the storm. With every hand against us.

Day Three Hundred Twenty Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The night was tremulous, but not uncomfortable as the climate is tropical.

At the hour of dawn it became darker still. I detected a swirling motion in the clouds but then realized it was actually a massive swarm of insects being flung far and wide overwhelming the horizon. I traced its source to a fissure in the mountain dome, and there directed Elijah’s attention.

Elijah simply said, “It is time.” And pounded the butt of his staff on the rocky ground.

The fissure gaped open and a chained monstrosity issued forth.

“Could this be Abaddon?” was my single thought.

Stan charged by oblivious to us and placed a collar around its neck.

Elijah struck the ground again releasing its bonds.

Day Three Hundred Fourteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The Captain has extended to us an open invitation to join him on the bridge any time he is there. (I think he wants to keep an eye on us).

We came on the bridge just after eating, and hovered in the background. The sea anchor was still down as the shore ahead was shrouded in clouds or fog. The Captain looked at us and shook his head.  

Elijah told the Captain he would take care of it and to prepare by weighing anchor.

He sent me to our cabin to retrieve his staff.  

The Captain had us underway by the time I reached Elijah on the bow. He raised the staff and the sun broke through dispelling the clouds.

Day Two Hundred Five Late Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Enough writes:

Couldn’t go on beyond four hours of daylight. Sought succor from the sun’s heat in the crevices of the rocky wall that defines my path.

The light of burning fires in the city reflected on the clouds last night helping me along my way. I may only have the moon tonight.

The periods of hunger lengthen.