Aramanthes' Wall

David watched the ship as it slipped silently from the wharf. The row of port oars rested while the starboard oars turned the nose towards the darkening mist. Then, to an unseen signal, all began a steady slap that moved the vessel at a quickening pace. He stared until he was sure he could no longer see and only then did he turn and walk away. Life had not yet stirred in Pigadia and he was thankful not to be seen. He was tired but exhilarated. His room was as he had left it three months earlier - a little dustier now but quite undisturbed. He cleared a space on the small table beneath the solitary window and untied his diary. He filled a glass with water, sipped some and placed the remainder at the edge of the table. For a time he gazed without seeing as thoughts began marshalling in his mind. Then he bent forward and began writing the final notes of an extraordinary journey.

Three hours later he dropped his pen and closed the diary. He drew the curtain to blot out the evidence of a rising sun and dropped exhausted onto the bed. He knew he would be believed. At first they would be incredulous. Then they would begin to believe. And when they did, he knew it would be the start of a change that would forever alter the world.

Thus began the unravelling of the strands that had bound western society together for centuries. Yet, as politicians and the powerful interests controlling them vanished forever, nobody was quite sure where pure democracy would ultimately lead.