The Longest Journey Part 4: The Watcher of the Path

The 29th of Zilitu in the 447th year of the reign of the Malika of Saba

I date this entry out of habit, but have no confidence in its accuracy. In fact, al-Nahash tells me that we are no longer anywhere that dates have meaning - we are on the path beyond the Night, and time is strange here.

Our trip across the Bridge of Night was long, and harrowing. Once we began to climb, there was no light permitted, for even the slightest spark would dissolve the darkness of the bridge and drop us into whatever void it spans. Under my feet, the bridge grew narrower and narrower, until I could no longer stand with both feet next to each other. I froze then - with no light at all, I could not see al-Nahash or the ghul, and I was suddenly convinced that they had somehow abandoned me in this abyss. I knew that another step would see me toppling from this narrow path, and I could not bring myself to lift my foot again.

Then something curious happened. Something inside me shivered, and there was strange sensation like a sharp fingernail being drawn across the inside of my stomach. It reminded me of when my mother spoke of a child kicking or turning within her womb; it felt like there was another being with me, inside of me, and it had just quickened in the darkness. I suddenly knew that I could not fall from the bridge, nor remain here, nor go backwards - my passenger needed to reach the other side. Now, writing this in my journal, I don't really understand the conviction I felt then, but it carried me forward across the narrow span of the bridge to where it widened again.

I only knew that I was past the bridge when al-Nahash lit a lantern and I did not fall into the sky below. He stood in a narrow canyon, the walls pressing close enough to brush his shoulders, and he thrust the light towards me. It stung my eyes and I turned my face away, and he grunted in satisfaction, before explaining that the beings of the outer dark always forget to flinch away from a sudden light when they replace a crosser of the bridge. When the ghul appeared out of the shadows a few minutes later, he tested her in the same manner and seemed to accept the results.

Before continuing on the path through the narrow canyon, al-Nahash suggested a brief meal, while we still had the leisure to do so. So I settled down and nibbled at a piece of dry and tasteless bread - I wasn't really interested in food, but saw the wisdom in eating something. al-Nahash ate some dried fish, and the ghul produced a bag from somewhere about her person that bore strange and ominous stains. I did not want to see what she had brought for food, so I turned to study the canyon instead. It was wider than at the entrance, but still claustrophobic. Overhead, I could see a few stars in the sky, but they cast no light worth mentioning. I began to sketch, and the being within me shivered again. I could feel my hand shift over the paper without my will behind it, and the final sketch showed a light on the horizon that I could not see with my eyes. I think my passenger can see more than I can in this strange place.

Al-Nahash is standing now, and looking at me impatiently. I think I lost track of the time, and suspect he has been speaking to me while I drew and wrote. I must go.

---

The 29th of Zilitu in the 447th year of the reign of the Malika of Saba

We are resting again, and I can write of what we have seen. I don't know how long it has been since my last entry - we walked through the canyon for hours, I think. There is no way to mark the time properly here - the same stars glare down at me as did at the beginning, and there is no hope of a sunrise coming. I tried to count my steps for a while, but lost track and gave up.

The one sign that we were making progress was the way the path climbed. The canyon snaked on interminably, but with each step we were a little higher than before. I could feel the air grow thin and cold around me as we ascended, and I began to grow light-headed. I believe this is why I did not notice the cage until al-Nahash stopped before it and I stumbled into his back.

It stood at the top of the path, an enormous black thing of bars with a pointed top covered by a shredded canopy. It looked a little like a birdcage - but the thing inside was no bird. It more closely resembled some kind of strange worm, with a single giant eye. The eye gleamed with a pale and sickly light, and was surrounded by filaments that waved as though they were underwater. For several minutes, al-Nahash stared at the thing silently, and my passenger shivered inside me, as though moved by a great noise. When the eye turned its gaze on me, I suddenly could hear a voice in my bones, deep and booming and loud enough to rattle my teeth. "It has quickened", it said. "You have less time than you would wish." Then it turned back to al-Nahash and I could hear the voice no longer.

al-Nahash communed with the creature for a few minutes more. With a clarity that I can not explain, I knew hat this was a Watcher on the Path - a piece of some vaster being planted here to observe on its maker's behalf. Its gaze passed over me again, shaking my skeleton as it did, and then we were walking past it and across the vast and empty valley beyond the canyon. The mountains on both sides were sharp and loomed, and I could see more in the distance. The sky shone with a pale and sickly light, broken by a trail of darkness through which the stars gleamed. Somehow, I know that the this is our signpost, and our destination will be where the dark path meets the mountaintop.

---

I should be afraid, but I am not. I don't really know why, but it is something my passenger has done. I feel calm - almost drunk in a way. I have always known I would come to the Al-Kubra one day, and have begun to realize it may not have been my wish, but rather the desire of whatever lives inside my body, driving me towards this place. The ghul is leering at me as I write, and I am not afraid. It is strange to me, but she has come to resemble my sketch of her now, in this forsaken place. What I can glimpse of the sky reminds me of drawings I made years ago, and the shape of the mountains against the pale and glistening sky has haunted my dreams since I was a child. I think I am not afraid because I was made for this place, and have always sought to be here. My passenger shifted just now as I wrote that, and I think it agrees.

I wonder what will happen to me when I reach the end of this journey. It will be good to know where I have going my whole life. I want to know that more than anything else.