Search Box

Loading...

Thursday, 16 May 2013

"A Stranger In A Strange Land"

© Copyright Matthew James 1997

The sun was directly overhead when Akrah next disappeared to find water. I was curious as to where he was finding water. To my inexperienced eyes, the land was dry, there was no sight of any water course. I found him with half of one arm forced down a hold in the ground. He looked up at me and smiled. He quickly explained there was a series of artesian wells in the ground. One of the documents he had been studying prior to our journey was the artesian well layout.

Later, when the sun was beginning to go down and the air became colder, we elected to make our first halt for the night. We had yet to meet anyone else, which wasnt surprising as we had deliberately chosen the most uninhabited route to the coast on the other side of the island. We had to arrive at make the other coast before sunset of the day after next in order to catch the boat that would be waiting there for us. Any delay would jeopardise our travel plans.

I awoke the next morning covered in aches and pains. My bed of gravel and soil not the most comfortable of places to sleep. Although the temple teachings on relaxation calmed mind and spirit, they did not convince constricted muscles to stop aching. We ate a quick breakfast, composed of a few handfuls of small red berries Akrah had managed to find in the under-brush beside where we had slept the night.

During the night, I recalled, I had been visited by a Lemurian and given more prophecy. Fortunately, Akrahs travel pouch contained a writing stick and wood on which to write. I thus spent a moment to keep a record of the latest portend of doom.

We reached our destination without any delay. As we descended down the roughly cut steps to the rocky beach below, I heaved a sigh. This would be the last time I set foot on my home for a while. From this point forth I will be a stranger in a strange land. A visitor to distant shores. Akrah, from his whole demeanour, had ventured off our island before.

As we began walking across the narrow beach to the mill pond calm waters edge we were met by a priest of our order, a silent youth of few words, who nodded a greeting then pointed to our right. It was still barely past sunrise. There as a distinct cold chill in the air. As I looked out to the other side of the cove, I spied an eerie sea mist just beyond the protection of the natural harbour. I couldn't see the shoreline of our next destination. The second largest island in our archipelago. The island which contained our chief town, the centre of all our administration and trade, Atlan itself.

© Copyright Matthew James 1997
Extract taken from The Chronicles of Ezra by Matthew James