Artemesia Family/Jeherad/Diary of Night/02

Part 2

May 8, 952: I woke up today. The captain told me I had been unconscious all of yesterday, that we had been shipwrecked, and that there are fifteen survivors, four of whom are still unconscious. A few supplies had been salvaged from the wreckage, consisting mainly of rum and swords. How useless those items are. I would much rather have an axe and some cooking pots, and some rope.

But at least, I am still alive. The captain and three crew members are also alive, and were busy salvaging the wreckage all day. The rest were passengers like myself, some of whom were also salvaging, some of whom were attending the unconscious, and some I do not know the whereabouts.

I had little time to write today, and as I write this entry, it is in a quick scribble (Indeed it is. I am having some trouble reading all of it.) that is made ever more unsteady by the fact that soon it will be my turn to make the night watch. But as far as I can tell, we are the only living creatures here.

May 9, 952: We have decided to start moving. From the estimates of the ship navigator, no ships would ever pass the coastline we are currently stranded on. Our best chance, or so the captain says, is to move inland and pray that we reach civilization. He still does not tell me what our intended destination was, and when I asked whether we are at our intended destination, he turned very silent and avoided me for the rest of the day.

We have constructed small wooden platforms for carrying our unconscious members. The captain and his surviving crew have taken the lead and are moving towards the inland plains. By now, I have no doubts that I will never see Katrinn again, or my sons, or Commonyr. But I shall be resolute and brave in this new world. If death is my fate here, then so be it.

May 20, 952: I am tired. We are all tired. We have marched for over ten days now. Those days, I was constantly moving, either carrying the four unconscious people, or standing guard over our makeshift camps at night. I am writing this as I stand guard tonight. There is only the crackling of the dying embers of the campfire, and some snoring. There are no other noises here. Can this place really be devoid of animal life?

May 24, 952: We have run out of water. The dark woods beckon towards us ahead. The navigator says that we are progressing well towards the south. (I believe from the current account that Jeherad had been shipwrecked in Aspar, and the woods he speaks of are those of Gonophor.) All I can care about is water. Water, I need water. Even writing it makes my throat burn!

May...........Water......

May? 952: Finally, we have some water. Thankfully there was a clear spring in the woods. Unfortunately, I no longer know what the date is. Surely, it could not have been over a week that I had been moving through the woods without any water? No one else here seems to know the date, and none of them seems to care.

June 1, 952: I shall call today the first of June, regardless of the actual date. It at least gives me some sense of time, even if it is invented. We have run out of food, and we have yet to find any animals here. The berries we have found appear to be mostly inedible. A fellow passenger ate a few today, and soon fell ill. He has not woken up since. Oh, may we find salvation soon.

June 2, 952: There is no salvation for us. We are walking to our deaths. I take each step reluctantly and heavily, but my body continues on, regardless of my mind's objections. At least, there is enough water to last us another two weeks. May we find civilization soon.

June 3, 952: The air is beginning to smell horrid, like the air in the volcanic isles north of Commonyr. I suspect a volcano nearby, but our navigator ensures us that we are moving away from the volcano, if it is indeed a volcano.

June 4, 952: We are too hungry. Too hungry...

June 7, 952: By my faith, I cannot believe what I...no, what WE have done.