The Tale of Captain Johne





We began our journey back to the Ararat today. Sutek wished to continue our exploration, but my persistence and—I am reluctant to say—my fury won the argument. For once, I took the lead, perhaps too anxiously, for often I found myself alone in darkness until Sutek arrived with his light.

A nightmare. I keep telling myself it was a nightmare. It has to be. I have searched our supplies and I can find no shards.


* * *



There can be no doubt about it, our pace has slowed over the past week. Only today did we arrive at the lakeshore where Sutek and I were blessed with our last glimpse of Britannia's heavens. It is I who delays us, for if I exert myself too much, I must stop, lest I become ill. Sutek is patient, and assures me that we may take our time.

I often dream about comets.

A nightmare. It has to be.


* * *



Does this accursed passage never end? I do not remember it taking this long to travel.

My illness grows worse. We stop every hour while I sit and catch my breath and wipe the sweat from my brow. Sutek reassures me that it is only fatigue.

I can tell he believes otherwise. He has never smiled before.


* * *



We will reach my companions tomorrow . . .

The shadows, they follow me.

Thank the Virtues . . .

A nightmare. It has to be.


* * *


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