"Eli´s journal_part2" by Marijke Mahieu

I did not know blood could boil while its owner is still alive. I assure you… it can.

Mine must be at boiling point right now, my reddened skin barely thick enough to keep it contained. The heat is killing me, literally.

The sun. My new enemy. Invincible.

My chest is sore. I shouldn’t have thrown away my leather tunic a couple of days ago, but I did. And it’s irretrievable now. I could no longer look upon those stains. Not knowing whose blood that was; not knowing whose hand had shed it.

But as I have been walking bare-chested, without defence, my enemy has seen fit to attack. And I have been wounded severely, my skin flailed and left in tatters. I never knew sunburns could hurt that much.

This enemy is not my worst fear, though. My own head is. I think I’m going insane…I honestly do.

What does it take to call a man insane? Having visions? Check. I have those at night. Talking to unseen others? Check. I do shout at my enemy at times, but then again, he never leaves my side these days. Forget about all that is important? Check.

I try to remember, but I can’t. There’s a big wall in my mind refusing me to climb over it. I know my memories are still there. I can hear them buzzing like bees behind that wall, trying to get out as much as I’m trying to get in. If only I could reach them! And yes, before you ask, I have tried walking around the wall, but it just goes on and on. I tell you, I’ve tried!

And yes, I do realize I am talking to my diary now, thank you very much!

I should go find shelter soon. I need to rest.

Morning, day 143, year 538

I am in a desert. I am lost.

I have walked through dunes of sand for seven days now, only counting the nights. I look forward to those cool evenings, the only times of the day I can let my guard down for at that time my enemy goes to sleep.

The wine is gone now. I drank the last drops yesterday. The little food I could find in my backpack has been consumed several days ago.

I am thirsty. My lips are cracked.

I can see my sister at night. Did I mention she’s a sorceress? Well, she is. And a very good one! I guess I just remembered that now.

I think I’m dreaming when I see her, because I’m no longer in this desert when having those visions. The dream is always the same. I see Arwana sitting on a cold stone floor. She is in pain although she doesn’t look wounded. The hurt is in her eyes though, those warm brown eyes that always looked so friendly. They are shattered now.

She raises her head, looks at me and whispers: “Help me Eli! I can’t keep it subdued much longer. Help me! Try to find me!” And then she’s gone and I’m left all alone in the grey room. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it. That’s the dream I have had every night since I woke up in the desert.

It’s the reason why I keep walking, although I have no idea of where I’m going. The only thing that is clear in my mind now is “Find her. She needs help!”

And I will die trying…