In a few short hours I'll be setting out on the longest journey of the season and the first of the final two. I'll be traveling over 50 miles filming and capturing images along the way for "The Battle With the Furies" chapter of my story. Beyond the journey itself - I'll be doing it all without any sleep.
I always get restless when I get close to the end of my ongoing quest. A lingering sense of urgency, anxiety, nervousness. I've been on enough adventures to know what I am about to go through - to know that much of it is going to hurt.
That's part of the deal.
My story is one of suffering and sacrifice. The old kind. Something most modern pagans try their best to run away or hide from. None of them having the slightest clue what it takes to "honor the gods" they claim to follow and serve. Easy to talk of a path, not so easy to walk one.
As before, once again Zeus interfered with the set task. Sending thunderstorms across the area, delaying the journey for three days. But the clouds have parted and soon the next steps of the journey will be taken.
I'll be traveling far to the east, further than I have ever ventured before, into a forest steeped in history and urban legend as I wrote of in the previous entry. I'll set out hours before sunrise in order to make it to my destination with enough daylight left to do what is to be done. The days are getting shorter, the nights colder and the area I am traveling into is not the type of place one wants to have to pass through after dark.
A few short hours away from sacrificing more of my body and soul - glorious.
For now, a hot shower and a hot coffee. Then it will be time to check my gear and prepare to take on a beast of a challenge, worthy of the Furies themselves.
