Wandering in the Desert

The title sums up what I have been doing the last three months. Wandering with a man who refuses to speak and one who cannot. Quiet never bothered me before, but this quiet is different. There is so much pain in the quiet.

I have no purpose it seems. I am basically following Honani where he goes..and he goes in circles following nothing. But I shall follow. And wonder.

Back to the beginning

It is often said that when one has no other place to go, that he should return to the beginning and start anew. I am now heeding the old advice, as I have always done. My party and I are journeying back to where I met the grandmother so many months ago. Perhaps there is more evidence to be uncovered. I spoke to Honani concerning this, expecting him to say something about the folly of following stories. He said nothing still, but gathered what remained of our small camp. We've been walking now mostly non-stop...I'm not sure when and where to hold, and Honani never shows sign or weariness. Onward, we go. We are getting very close to the village, now. Again, something feels wrong. But then, wrongness is a familiar feeling these days. It doesn't bother me nearly as much as it did in the beginning.

What bothers me most is Running Bear's seeming lack of a life force, his spirit. His body lives, but nothing else. I haven't yet had the time or the freedom to enter the spirit world again and search for him there. I fear what I will find there. So far, all I have found there has led to despair. This entity also seems to be taking more of an active role. I see it at times, standing under a ruin or perhaps a solitary tree. It seems to choose things that are spiritually significant..Trees are life, the ruins are portals to the old world. And the time of day is often just at the break of day or the falling of night..When the world is more open to entry from the spirit realms. I fear it will only get stronger and stronger..as it seems to feed off of emotion and energy. Maybe it can be combated in that manner..It looks like time to begin another journal.

Revival

So much has changed. Chumana betrayed us, Running Bear is worse than dead, and Honani no longer speaks. We were betrayed. I should have payed more attention to her dreams, to her ramblings. I thought she was just frustrated at her situation. But it appears The Emissary got to her, just as he did The Chief. We awoke one morning and the spirits were gone again, just as they were at the temple.. And we saw it then. We saw the One with no face. And The Emissary. And..Chumana. She was smiling, and carrying my notes in her arms. There was blood on her face.
"Hello, hello, Zia. Oh, you trusted me, I can see it in your eyes. You should never trust a Snake. These notes are really beautiful, you know. So much work, for so little result. Running Bear, Honani, my family. It's time for us to go. Don't worry, Father is dead. I was allowed to exact my revenge. You're free now. Come."

 Honani lunged for her then, screaming about traitors. And Running Bear...He tried to stop them from fighting. She reached out and touched his face and he went...limp. He just collapsed. She smiled again, and turned to Honani, who looked horrified. He dropped his weapon and backed away from her. "What did you...What did you do to him? Chumana! What have you done! You are no sister of mine. You betrayer. Betrayer..You have no other name to me now." 

He walked away then, disappearing among the ruins. Just her and I now, and the Emissary. There was also a man in a suit. A man unnaturally tall and long of limb..devoid of face. No face. Oh, no..It is real. Spirits save me, IT IS REAL. It seemed to gaze at me, and the world began to shift...

I woke up next to Running Bear among the ruins, with the Sun Symbol painted underneath us. I was unable to move...Honani found us several hours later. Wordlessly, he lifted me in one arm and Running Bear in the other. He carried us up and out of the ruin to a campsite.We've been here since then, no one speaking. Running Bear won't wake up, his spirit..it's gone. That's the only way I can explain this. He's just a shell. Honani refuses to speak or make a noise. My notes are lost and my mind wanders. And I see It sometimes, in the distance.

A Man With One Hand

I saw him today, this man with no hand. The Emissary. He was atop one of the buildings across this narrow canyon..He was staring very intently at something in his hand, when he noticed me watching him. He raised his handless arm then, in a mock sort of peace greeting. He seems so arrogant, so...sure of his plans. This is worrisome indeed...Something will happen soon.
I have seen the Faceless Figure in dreams again. Calling out to me, the same as before, but this time I run. Not because I am afraid, no, I am not afraid of it.Rather it is because of what Zia tells us. This creature, if it is indeed of the Seventh Realm...it could destroy our spirits and leave our beings hollow. It could do with us purely as it pleases, if it even has those sinister thoughts.

I have always believed though...That maybe some of these beings were misunderstood. That their actions were wrong in our eyes, their motives misinterpreted and turned to evil. I do not presume such things about this creature, but sometimes I wonder...What it would be like to attempt to reach out and converse with it somehow. I shall have to give it some thought...It would be easier if the thing was physically present, instead of just a dream..

Stolen?

We are not alone here. Someone knows. They stole this device I use to make posts, and a multitude of other things. Including the notebooks and the papers with the legend. All gone, every bit of written or collected research. Even stranger is this: I found the device sitting by my head when I woke up this morning, with a note attached. All it said was "Courtesy of the Emissary." Chumana glared and stalked away when I mentioned that name, and now going over her introductory post, I see why. It's all beginning to come together now...The hand we found in the temple, the one-handed man that stirred things up in the village. I wonder where he comes from...What disturbs me greatly is this: The grandson that got me into this mess....He is still missing, he had links to that temple...What if he became snared by this...this thing. This faceless, haunting spirit, this escaped thing from a realm no one dares even mention.

Even as I type this, the others shy away and cringe. No one talks about the seventh realm, the place of locked-away horrors and abominations. Stories are told of the things that live there that can give a grown man nightmares...I believe this thing is an escaped entity. Yes, I am assuming that it is real. Too much has happened for me to believe otherwise...What else could disturb the ancient spirits so greatly that they abandon their homes and sever contact? No, it is real, and we are among the things it desires... Why it does so is now what I wish to figure out. I don't believe it wants us dead, I think it could have done so already. That it has a temple tells me that it desires something much more...


Sinister.

Strange dreams have taken a hold of this place. Every one of us, even Honani, is experiencing them. I wonder if it is because of all the time we've spent sitting in the ancient meeting home reading, studying, and debating the legend. Strange shadows on the walls, and a one handed man. The dreams are different for each of us, and I won't go into detail about them, but they all contain those two things. A one handed man....Running Bear and I found a hand in the temple.Perhaps his spirit is trying to contact me, trying to warn me. Only my dreams don't seem like warnings. They seem like..a threatened invitation. That's the best way I can describe the..strange, pulling feeling I get. I want to walk into the shadows.

The walls are closing in. I can feel them. The spirits are restless. The enemy is close at hand. But which enemy?

Dreaming

Zia, no offense, I think puts far too much weight on one dream. I do believe her ideas have merit, especially knowing what i know about our father, but..sometimes, dreams are just that. Dreams. 
I did dream of the faceless creature of legend. I saw it first as a hazy black shadow against the wall of our refuge, but the longer I gazed, the clearer it became. It stepped from the wall then, and I saw it as clearly as I see the waking world. Something over seven feet tall, dressed in an odd manner that I've never seen the like of before. It had limbs, but they were very elongated, as if something had stretched them. It held out one of these arms to me, but I didn't move. The blank white face seemed to study me intently. Something strange did happen though...The longer I stood staring, the..mood seemed to change, and so did the creature's arm. It flickered between a hand and a..tentacle, I think is the right word. As suddenly as it appeared, it was gone. I realized then that I was back in the waking world.
I rolled over, and realized that the wall in my dream was the exact same one as I was sleeping against. Honani grumbled something about sleepwalking, but he talks in his sleep constantly. Just another one of his strange sleep-comments. (He may very well try to kill me, after seeing that publicly posted. Hmm. Something has to take our minds off the situation at hand. Why not a little murder?)

We heal, slowly but surely. Zia says it may take another week for my brother to be able to use his arm, since my father's arrow cut into a  nerve. My leg is fine, though it does hurt to walk on. My father attacked his own flesh and blood...he is an honorless coward, and for that I am truly sorry I did not kill him where he stood. 
But for some reason, I was afraid when I saw him. Not fear of him, but fear as a general sensation. Fighting him was difficult...as if something didn't want a blow to land. I spoke to Zia, and she says it may just be the peaceful intent of the spirits dwelling here..But that doesn't make any sense and she knows it. I know what she wants to say. I know she wants to blame it on the creature in that story.
My sister, Chumana, says that she dreamed of this thing last night, but that she felt no fear, only welcome. I always knew telling stories in the darkness made thoughts run wild. Just not that wild..

Short Update

We finally were able to escape the Chief's eyes for long enough to slip into the sacred dwelling...Thanks to Honani and his willingness to jump headfirst into a situation.
We were sitting by a very small and, what I thought was well concealed, fire. Honani was leaning up against a tree on the perimeter, making us more waterskins, when a quick shadow crossed the camp. All of us dropped down and grabbed whatever weapons were nearby. First thing I thought was that we were on some ancestral spirit ground by accident, and they didn't like it. I was quickly corrected when an arrow glanced off a tree branch three feet from Chumana's head. Honani dashed off into the darkness in the direction of the arrow.
Running Bear yelled at him to stop and tried to give chase, but was stopped in his tracks by another arrow lodging itself in his shoulder.
Arrows continued to bounce off of the ground and trees around us as Chumana and I tried to tend Running Bear's arm. Then, a pained howl and the arrows stopped.
Moments later Honani limped back into the firelight, a knife sticking out of his calf and blood staining the white stripe in his hair."He's unconscious. Now is our chance. Zia, how far?"
I said nothing, but motioned for everyone to grab as much of our supplies as they could carry. The site wasn't far...I'd been circling it for weeks looking for a way in past the Chief that wouldn't alert him to the spot, and bring his ill-intent into a sacred place.
We managed to get all but a few things that could be replaced...Twenty minutes later we descended the hidden ladder into one of Mesa Verde's treasured secrets.

So far the spirits seem to be okay with us residing here. I will speak with some one night soon, to discover more about their terms of our stay. Until I do this, we've been sleeping in what would have been a public-use area...no sense in angering someone by walking into their house like we own the place.

Now that we aren't running for our lives, I can interview Chumana and Honani more about their father's dealings...And continue to try to decipher this strange legend.

Honani, The Badger

My father is an idiot of the worst kind. He refuses to subdue his pride, refuses to admit he's wrong. I'm not buying in to what the rest of this camp says just yet, though I do find Chumana's story disturbing. What I find more disturbing is that the honored chief of a village could be so stuck in human affairs, that he would exile his own wife and children is some desperate far-flung attempt to save face and save power. 

Oh, right. Zia says I'm supposed to introduce myself. Call me Badger, or Honani if you like saying interesting names. I'm sure you can guess the name: My spirit animal is the fierce badger. Stopping at nothing, fighting until the very end, very grounded. I struggle with the spirit realm, which is probably why I'm the resident skeptic of the group.

I'm the only one the spirits didn't seem to affect that Halloween night. I mean sure, I felt sick and lost a few hours, but that happens in the desert on long journey with little water. Heat stroke does things like that., people. 

Chumana

Where shall I begin, but to tell you of myself? I am Chumana, the Snake Maiden. I am called this because when I was born,  a viper of the desert rest itself next to me but did not strike. The snake is my guardian. Most fear him, but I respect his ways. The snake is a curious creature, but not the creature of evil he is made to be. 

I am Running Bear's sister. I do not know why he calls himself of that name, but he forbids me speak his true name. I chose to run with him because of the darkness that is within my father. I shall now tell you a tale of our family's downfall, and why it is so important he never find us.

About seven cycles ago, my father came home with some words written on a piece of paper. He said they were from a young boy passing through, a boy with no hand. He said that the had been divinely inspired to pass along a legend long forgotten, and had lost his hand in pursuit but gained enlightenment. He refused to give his name, calling himself only "The Emissary". Father read these words and soon began to act very strangely. He would remain awake late at night, rereading. He would go out into the night and sometimes not return until daybreak. At first he seemed fearful of the night, but as time passed on, he changed. 

Our mother one night while he was gone stole the papers from a hidden hole on our wall. She read them herself, and the very next morning confronted him.I confess, I do not know what transpired in the conversation. But every night thereafter, my mother also began to consume herself in reading the words The Emissary left behind.

A cycle and a half later, the symbol started appearing. My father became more and more agitated, my mother, more paranoid. She began to refuse my father's company. She held a meeting with a few elders and told them what she had read and seen. They ignored her, of course. And then, father discovered the symbol in their bedchamber and perceived it to be the ultimate abandonment.

He forced her out of the house, on a journey of purification. Or, so he said. 

But I caught him talking in his sleep, two nights before Running Bear and Zia returned. He mentioned the box dwelling, sending her there to be "Remade". And that he was sorry he had failed. Then he screamed, and awoke, and ran from the house.

I am resigned to the fact that Zia is right about this. That there is more to it than a broken life symbol. When something is worshiped as this figure was in the dwelling....It is bigger than a legend. But what if it is real? My father then serves a false god of death.

In which this blog almost came to an abrupt end.

I wish I was joking about the title. I was so preoccupied with getting to Mesa Verde and avoiding the Chief and his friends that I sort of forgot the day. October 31st. The Day of the Dead, Halloween, The Beginning of the Winter Calendar..Whatever you call it, one thing is certain. It is a day for precaution. Why anyone celebrates it is beyond me, but maybe that is just my experience with the spirit world talking. All I know is, Halloween is the day the veil between the living world and the realm of the ancestors grows very thin. It is a day of transition, leaving everything vulnerable.

We were walking through an empty stretch of desert, we didn't really have a choice but to cross this open patch of ground. It was nearing midnight, the darkness was covering us almost completely. It was decided that we'd go at it at a slow run, spaced out. We were almost exactly halfway across the stretch when Running Bear crumpled to the ground.  Naturally I thought the Chief had shot him. We've managed to stay only a half a step in front of the bastard this whole time. He's attacked us twice already with no real damages, but..I can't enter Mesa Verde until I've lost him. I can't let him find my place. It...is too sacred for the evil he would bring there.

Running Bear's sister screamed and ran to him. She rolled him over and...his face...He looked frightened. "Spi...Spirit...." Spirit? A spirit did this? And then I remembered. It's October 31st, and we're on potentially active ancestral ground.  I don't know what happened here in ancient days. I know little about what happened anywhere, unless I get a friendly spirit to talk. And this one obviously wasn't feeling friendly.

Running Bear's brother then spoke up. First time I ever heard him say a thing. "Zia. Look. Look around us. The dead walk."

Holy. Fucking. Hell. You know the saying "When Hell is full the dead walk the earth"? Yeah well. It has truth rooted in the legends. All of us were enveloped by a literal wall of spirits. Unhappy ones. Screaming voices, cursing, howling...It was painful. Soon, all of us were on the ground on our knees, hands pressed against our ears. They assailed us from all sides. I don't know how many of you have ever been physically attacked by something not completely of the physical world, but, it is decidedly unpleasant. And can be deadly in the long term. And it's hard to fight back.

Pain. Unnatural pain. Oh, it hurt..
And then they disappeared as quickly as they had come.  I looked up at the sky. Blessed daylight. The sun was rising. Oh, thank you Great Father.. And then I realized something.

We'd been in the same spot, under attack by these strange spirits, for almost five hours.

Confrontation

This went almost as I expected it. Almost. Running Bear and I traveled back to his village to warn his family and village that there is eyewitness evidence that something terrifying is going on. And that a poor woman got caught up in it and was wrongfully accused of blaspheming and dishonor. I understand Running Bear's wish to have his mother's honor reinstated, but...this trip was potential suicide for both of us.

     I didn't enter the village with him at his request. I wouldn't have gone anyway~this is his fight, not mine. But I couldn't entirely help myself, and I hope he forgives me for this...But, I went to a safe spot about a half mile away from the village and entered the spirit state. I walked into the village, and took a place atop the roof of the meeting hall, which is where (I'll call him Chief) chose to meet his son. I could tell from that that this wasn't going to go well. As the eldest son of the village chief, he was more than entitled to talk to his father in the privacy of his former home regardless of the news.

     But his father  refused, and demanded a tribal hearing. Running Bear asked for a compromise, with his family and the elder board being the only attendees. I'll hand it to Running bear for thinking on the fly like that..The whole village would have been chaotic. So, here I was, on the roof in spirit form, listening and watching through the smoke hole in the roof. 

     And it got ugly fast. Bear asked for ten minutes of uninterrupted time for three specific goals: To defend his mother's honor, to explain his absence and journey, and to address the elders and his family specifically. The last means that the chief cannot interject during the specific address. His father actually stood and threw down his ceremonial spear at this. Not even five minutes in, and there is a violent act on the horizon.

     His requests were granted, with a two minute limit placed on his last request. He got right to the point, telling pieces of the legend that we confirmed, talking about his journey. I couldn't help but smile when he talked about how we met. When he started talking about our travels though...Things became very heavy. 

    The Chief's face got redder and redder as Running Bear talked..I could tell that he had familiarity with some of the explanations that were given, involving the symbol and pieces of the legend. I could also tell that either he dismissed them as garbage or...he was unwilling to admit that his son might be on to to something. But no, that would mean admitting he was wrong. Pride and fear would never let him do that. Chief angrily let his son know that the time for explaining was over, and that his two uninterrupted minutes would begin now.

     Running Bear switched gears. He walked right over to his brothers and sisters. "Look, guys, I know you think I'm a dishonorable son who fled his village and defied his father. That's what you've been fed. But now you heard the story from me. All I ask is that you decide what you believe for yourselves. And if you believe me, do one thing for me. Protect yourselves, protect each other, and protect the people. You might not ever see me again, but if you ever need me, you can find me.

    He signaled that he was done, and then sat down. It was obvious what was coming. Or...I thought so. What happened next, I did not expect. 

Chief: "Running Bear, so you call yourself, you are challenged to a fight to submission or death as per tribal law. You have made a scene of this family and have stained our reputation. If you submit  you will be executed, as is fitting for a traitor like yourself.  You will be struck from our family record forever and your spirit will have no home. What say you?"

Running Bear: "By honor I accept, and by right I claim my life and safe passage for myself  and my friend should I triumph. By victory I also claim the right of my mother to be reinstated into this tribe. Name your ground or your weapons."

Chief: "Your terms are blasphemy!"

Elder: "No, Chief, they are within his rights to ask. Calm your spirit."

     The Chief lost it at this. He started knocking things and people to the ground, screaming about  how his tribe and his family had deserted him. He then turned on Running Bear, jamming the ceremonial spear into his shoulder. I could take it no longer. I returned to my physical self and ran for the village. By the time I got there, though, The Chief had been subdued by the Elders. Three were injured, two of which were Running Bear's siblings. Twins,  a boy and a girl. An elder turned to us and said, "Run, get yourselves clear of this village. This man is Chief no longer, but the vengeance in his heart is strong. I feel a darkness within him. Go."

     Running Bear's siblings looked at us then, all five of them. The decision was theirs to make. Run or Stay. Either was dangerous. In the end, three ran and two stayed. The twins asked to come with us, while the third sister fled alone.

So we have two new companions, making our way to a hidden site in Mesa Verde. I've known it all my life, and I've never seen signs of another soul there. We'll be safe as soon as we get there. It's getting there that's the problem.

Going home

Running Bear here,


I'm going home to confront my father with the facts. He destroyed my family. He accused my mother of an evil act of blasphemy. That symbol...that symbol has nothing to do with refusal to bear children! It's much, much worse. But did he help her, no, he sent her away and condemned her to die. I tried to find her and save her. But I couldn't, I failed, but it's his fault and he needs to know it.


Zia says I won't be doing any good except getting myself formally banished and maybe run off. I don't care at this point, I have to get this off my chest. I don't really know what's going to happen. I don't even know if he will talk to me.


But if there's any chance at all that this...whatever this figure is...If it could go after my family, I have to warn them. My mother...might have connected the family to It somehow. If  this thing is a spirit...I don't know. Zia doesn't know. But my family has to be warned even if its the last time I ever see them alive again.


Wish us luck, we'll be there in a couple of days.

Answers

We entered the box at first light yesterday. It took both Running Bear and I to lift the hidden door once we pried the latch free. It was almost as if someone had tried to glue it closed.
Those words...."This is where tragedy begins"..They set me on edge from the moment I saw them. Both of the people I investigated had been here. One is still missing and the other...Well, you know what happened there.
Their tragedies did indeed, if not begin, at least intersected with this place. This box with no windows and a hidden opening, this relic of the ancient world hidden away in the darkness.

Once the door was opened,  there were stairs leading down into complete darkness. We lit torches and walked slowly downwards, noticing the changes in the rock as we descended. It quickly went from the soft brown  typical of this area to a much harder and slightly darker rock...Then we noticed that every single stair had the too-familiar (X) carved into it... And the outer walls....someone had painted them darker, and darker the farther down the stairs we went. By the time we hit the last stair, the walls were solidly black.

We reached the bottom stair, and stepped into the room...And it became readily apparent what the purpose of this structure is. A temple, with a dedication to something quite familiar and.

Along the floor, there was a large depiction of that dreaded symbol, again. But in the center of the X was a 5-foot high stand, and on that stand, a carved statue of the figure with no face.On the four faces of the stand, in an ancient language, were the words "The One Who Is".

Running Bear started throwing up. I felt it then, an overwhelming urge to panic and flee. I felt the taint pressing against my skin. The figure it was coming from the figure the taint the figure they are linked all of this is linked..

Then Running Bear screamed and pointed to the wall. A shadow, spirits save us, a shadow with four arms, what was casting that shadow how was there a shadow I don't know have to run flee before it catches us

We ran up the stairs and dragged the door shut, fled the cave. We're almost out of Chaco, stopping just long enough to eat and post. I don't rightly know where we're off to yet, just know that we have to get out of this canyon.

The Box

We made it down into the cavern..We climbed down the side of the cliff face early this morning to avoid the glare from the morning sun reflecting off of the pale walls. The entrance and passageway were much smaller than the old spirit's vision led me to believe. He must have been a smaller man in his time..

When we arrived, though, I could not believe the size of the cavern room itself. I didn't spend much time looking at it when the spirit showed it to me, but I didn't imagine it would be this large. I mean...the ceiling of the room has to be at least 40 feet above my head, and the oddly circular room must be at least 30 feet in diameter. And that box...What a strange and creepy object of the ancient world. As I said before, it is completely windowless, and at a glance, has no entrance. I wonder as to how the ancients even found this cavern, much less bothered to build a dwelling here. It is some sort of temple I assume...

We also found undeniable proof that we aren't the only ones to come here, and recently.. The old spirit spoke of a young boy and a wandering woman....I think I know who they are. The grandson, and Running Bear's mother..I found a necklace lying on the ground at the southern tip of the box. I showed it to him, not expecting him to gasp and fall to the floor..

~~That's...that belonged to my mother...I made it for her just before I left on my sacred journey to manhood. I made it so that she and I would share a physical link, so she would stop being afraid. She was here...
~She is the wandering woman, then..I wonder if the grandson is the young boy.. I wonder if he left anything behind.


Running Bear soon located what he had left behind. His hand. There were skeletal remains of a hand two steps to the left. On the hand was a ring with the symbol of the boy's tribe. This is, gruesomely enough, how he also located the hidden entrance to the box. Underneath the hand was a primitive latch hidden in the rock. In a circle around the latch were words in a very ancient Puebloan language..

When translated, they read:   This is where tragedy begins

Of the spirits

I walked among them today. Yes, I found spirits outside the sphere. Which tells me a few things. One, the spirits within it are either blocked or indeed have disappeared. I am not sure which would be worse. Two, I myself am not under a filter. Three, that the mysterious box dwelling is within this sphere. And four, something is causing enough of a disturbance in the spirit energy of this place to create a very noticeable field. In this case, a field almost completely devoid of energy. The boundary of the thing is as clear to trace as a mountain range on a map.

As soon as I exited this strange field, I immediately felt the pressure of presences...They were...Not hostile, exactly. Agitated is a better description. I reached out to the one with the strongest energy.

~Spirit of the land, what troubles thee?
~~It Comes. It Steals. Madness, Fear. Many are Taken.
~Who is taken?
~~Many are, spirits and souls, a young boy and a wandering woman.
~Can you tell me where to find the dwelling?
~~ Do you wish to lose yourself, little spirit?
~I only seek to know, old spirit.
~~To know is to die.
~I thought that knowledge brought life to the People.
~~This knowledge comes from the Under-realms. This knowledge forbids life. 
~Old spirit, my traveling companion lost his mother to madness. She drew a symbol in her flesh, the circle of life barred by an X. 
~~(The spirit becomes very agitated now) That symbol belongs to The One That Should Not Be. Speak no more of it.
~Old spirit, I need to find this box dwelling. Please help me find it?
~~I will show you as I have showed many, little wanderer.


My mind fades to black, and suddenly I am shown my camp. The ground rushes 30 feet to the north, where there is an abrupt drop-off. Down the drop we go, 40 feet down to a crack in the rock not visible from either above or below. Into the crack the scene rushes, 25 feet back into the rock, and the scene opens to a roomy cavern. In the center is the box, a story high and windowless.


I woke up a half hour ago, in my own body. I have no recollection of how or when I returned.
Running Bear and I immediately compared the his mother's map to the directions shown me by the spirit..They match up, now. Odd, I do not remember those lines there the first time. Perhaps I was just not paying attention.

I guess I know what I'm doing tomorrow. Into the depths, to discover. Wish me luck, folks.

No one home

Running Bear and I have been scouring this area of Chaco for days...Sorry about being silent for so long. We kind of....got into the hunt, so much so that...The sun rose one morning, and neither Running Bear nor I stopped the search until the sunset the following day. This was several days ago...He and I have finally run out of non-spiritual options, though. We thought that maybe the map was backwards. It wasn't. That it was a dry riverbed, not a side canyon. Not that either. We even considered the possibility that the cut shown might be a cavern system. We've found nothing to show that this place exists.

And so, my walk in the spirit realm began again. Or, it would have if...Something went wrong. I tried to contact the spirits of the rocks in our area of the canyon. I knew that talking to them would be very alike to trying to strike up conversation with something just awakened from a 1000-year slumber, but I was not prepared to receive no answer at all. I felt nothing of the rock spirits. It's like they've abandoned this place. The spiritual phone lines have been disconnected, so to speak. I have been refused answers before, it's really not that uncommon. A few times, the spirits refused to even acknowledge me, but...They. Are. Not. Here.

So that's out. I am almost afraid to try to enter the spirit realm myself. I know that to solve this, I need to try. But I'm scared of what I'm going to find there.

Chaco

...is a big place. And this map makes no sense. It looked well drawn out when I looked at it before. In fact, I actually thought I knew right where to go. I have been here before on several occasions, scouting, walking with spirits, doing my usual thing. But I came to the place the map shows. There is nothing here. There is supposed to be a side canyon here, according to her drawings. All I see is a cliff.

Remind me again why I blindly followed the drawings of a madwoman?

On my way

Our way, I suppose I should say. Running Bear is accompanying me. There is nothing left for him here. I can see that as plainly as I saw my own outcasting. I couldn't say no after what I saw at the temple. Besides, he makes a good traveling companion. Sometimes, it is good to not be alone.

He was the first to pick the papers out of my traveling bag. Slowly, carefully, as if extracting a poisonous snake from its hole. Those papers have been the elephant in the room ever since we found them~We've both been avoiding the subject of them like that poisonous snake. Unfortunately, they are now my only link to the mystery of this madness. A mystery I still intend to solve, despite my deepest urges to run the other way. I have a theory, you see, a theory that, if true...There will be no escape if I am right. Therefore I earnestly hope I am wrong. I told Running Bear, and he sort of laughed at me and said that it was impossible. I'd like to believe it. I've grown up believing it.

The seventh realm is sealed. Nothing escapes from there. Because nothing good comes from there. Madness, death, torture, enslavement. The Greatest Spirits sealed that place a long time ago.

So, the papers. There are 10 in all. Five are covered in writing, three in similar drawings to the ones I have already seen, and two appear to be, oddly enough, maps. In fact, one is a map to a place I know of. And that is where we are going right now. Up into the back of Chaco Canyon, where there is rumored to be a boxed stone and wood dwelling with no doors. I have always dismissed this as simply rumor, because the people there did not build with stone and wood, and who would build a dwelling with no doors? It is not practical, and the Chaco dwellers dealt in practicality because they had to survive. I can no longer deny it, though. So, I am going to go find it, and look for a way in.
The map reads very clearly for a woman driven mad. It's quite strange, really. I wonder if she drew it before she went crazy and carved symbols into her flesh?