The Journeyman.......The end?

I did not wake up; but at some point I regained awareness.

When I did I screamed or at least tired too.  I could not draw a breath, the air was hot, used and weak like drawing in air from an extraction system exhaust.
  I was trapped, penned in like a lamb surrounded by sheep; confined by sheer numbers and forced to move in the overall direction of the crowd.  It was like Boxing day sales in London, hundreds of people crushing into every shop in search of evaporating into the shoppers arms bargains.  My chest was pushed hard against the man in front and equally my back had the pressure from the person behind.  My sides were shoulder to shoulder with the men and women all silently shuffling in an uncoordinated but general direction.    The stink was fantastic!  A mixture of body odour, dirt, excrement, ammonia and rotten eggs, wet dog and blood.   No comfort from the heat nor from the constant tide of movement.

  I tried to focus on where I was; something Xanthic taught me.  If you know where you are, then you can workout where you need to be.

Ok, calm down and draw a deep breath.  It was hard to breath and although there were strong light everywhere, all I could see was the deepest shadow; everyone was black and although inches in front of me I could make out no features on anyone; like walkers on a beach on a bright sunset, they were visible to me only in darkness, each figure robbing from me the light I craved to see.

  The roof was only a pens width above my head, it was rough stone inexpertly hewn and as I was pushed at an ever moving shuffling pace in a general forward direction I caught my head on rutting rock and bumps in the ceiling.  The floor was its match.  I could not look down.  My arms were pinned to my side by the weight of on pressing bodies and I could not make space to look down at my feet. but I could feel the undulating rise and fall. with the hidden ankle busting pot holes and trips waiting unseen everywhere.

It was hot, unbearably so, no breeze could survive here.  I just wanted to fill my lungs with cool air and breath. 

Why was I here? Where was I going?  I couldn't tiptoe to get a view over the heads of the crowd and my view was nothing but shadowed heads and where there was a gap, a bright shine giving nothing.
  I wanted to turn around, to make some space - I NEEDED to make some space and just think.  My mind was racing and I wanted to rest.  I couldn't sit down, couldn't stop, couldn't think.

A waved pushed forward, I was bumped from behind and fell against the man in front.  I skipped to keep my feet moving and a shallow trench caught my toe and propelled me forward so my chin hit the guys back.  He showed no sign of feeling it but continued the motion forward.  Ripples of the wave moved through the immediate area and I was pushed to left.  I was now off my footing, still wedged upright by the claustrophobic enduing closeness.  I was being dragged by the crowd, they were treading on my feet which were trailing behind me, I was being pulled down, I tried to raise my arms to hold onto the people around me and pull myself back up but they were stuck uselessly at my side.  When my bent knees hit the floor I was struck by pain but forced to continue the slow march.  Terror was filling me, I knew with clear knowledge that I was going down and I was going to be trampled by the unrelenting masses.  I cried out for help but my voice did not carry, no one behind or to my side acknowledged my distress, each stumbling themselves and staggering ever forward.
  Another wave hit me and I was on the rock floor, face against the ground, feet stepping on me, others falling over me, a weight building  up on me....................

The weight eased. I got to my knees and a hand reached under my arm and a strength raised me to my feet.  Behind me was Xanthic, dressed in his long iridescent black coat and although he is easily a head taller than me, he effortlessly stood straight without compromise under the low ceiling. He stood like a rock in a river, a V shaped wake splitting either side of him, everyone unacknowledgingly giving him room before remerging around us after a short distance.
  "Its not your time yet."  He said to me, look straight at me.  I thought I could see his eyes strong and bright behind his smoke mirrored glasses.
   He offered his hand and I took it, the crowd rushed past at motorway speed, not running but in the same steady onward inch footfalls but at an incredible pace; that or time for us had slowed to a near stop whilst everything carried on around.  A corridor of emptiness seamlessly developed leading away from us and Xanthic led me along it holding my hand.  A bell tolled and a deep darkness enveloped us.