Mystery of the Deep Fog, page 7
Without wasting any time, Gregog turned Daisy's reins and headed back to the woods. He knew the area like the back of his hand, having ventured into the fog several times since becoming a Nrothgare. The Deep Fog mirrored the natural world, and the meadow behind him was the same one he would cross on his way home.
Home. The thought reminded him that he was supposed to be heading back there. Instead, he was on a mission to find a lost girl tricked into coming here. Thargeron had sent her into the fog to fetch a horse, which raised Gregog's suspicions. Why would he send a young girl to such a dangerous place? Thargeron shrugged when questioned about her whereabouts, but eventually, he admitted to sending her. Frustration and anger boiled inside Gregog as he thought about the girl's safety. She could get lost and never find her way back, or worse, be killed by the Shadow.
The Shadow was a figure that lived within the Deep Fog. No one knew where it came from or why it was here. It emitted a screech that sounded like several dead animals crying simultaneously, and facing it could be fatal. Three training Nrothgares had already been killed by it. The only option when confronted with the Shadow was to run and hope it did not catch up.
Gregog did not know where Krys could be, but he knew of a way to find her if she had not gone too far. The natural flesh glowed like a lantern in the fog, making it easier to spot from a distance. Although he could not see it on himself, he remembered Devin, his trainer, shining brightly like a lamp in the dark when they were searching for a horse for Gregog.
Gregog decided to head toward the mountain where the temple resided on the natural side, hoping a higher vantage point would allow him to see Krys within the fog. He was acutely aware that man-made objects remained hidden within the fog, which meant the temple would not be seen. This explained the absence of cobblestones on the path and the lack of other natural-world structures in the Deep Fog. Any trees or bushes removed on the natural side would wither, decay, and eventually disappear within the fog's grasp. Urgency compelled him to spur Daisy into a swifter pace, mindful that time was of the essence. His concern grew as he worried that the Shadow might have already found Krys before he could reach her.
◆◆◆
If Metz had to guess, he'd say it had been at least thirty years since he last stepped foot in the Temple of the Absolute Gods. Metz was not a true believer in the seven gods as a whole; only one mattered to him, and it was not due to devotion. It was a matter of practicality. He knew that if he dismissed Kalibella, the goddess of blood, he would lose his power over blood and either become a mortal or be destroyed. So as long as he must, Metz would show humility before his goddess and honor her as divinity. He thought it was all a scam. Yes, they had powers and could vanish in thin air, but something about the gods seemed odd.
"Anyone home?" he called out as he passed the temple guards and entered the foyer, hoping to escape the sweltering night's heat. Unfortunately, Metz quickly realized he would find no respite from the heat inside the temple. All the other temples were designed the same, but this one was unique. He could not remember where anything was. He looked up at the large chandelier and shook his head. It was typical of the gods to display such raw pride. Every temple was adorned with elaborate and expensive trim, and the clothes of the gods were over the top.
He strode into the hallway and sighed. The walls were adorned with white marble, intricately patterned with blocks of emerald. The polished stone floor reflected any available light, illuminating the corridor. Numerous chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their candles flickering softly. It was merely a hallway, yet it surpassed the luxury of most rooms in a wealthy man's residence. Metz continued through the extravagant passage, finally reaching the entrance to the temple sanctuary. He hesitated and decided against entering. The sanctuary held sacred significance, and despite his skepticism toward the gods, he knew better than to defile their holy ground. Even his presence alone could potentially incite the wrath of the deities. From what he could gather, it seemed none of the other six warriors harbored much fondness for him, given that he served as the warrior for the blood goddess.
He returned to the foyer and took a left into the next room, where he found the staircase that led down. He took the stairs and stepped into the hallway. He stood momentarily, trying to remember where this hallway led to. He heard a noise from one of the rooms and figured it came from either one of the many sad priests who dedicated their pathetic lives to these gods, or it could be Thargeron or the girl. He liked the girl. He could not remember her name but knew he had called her Kit. She was feisty like a kitten and did not like it when he called her kitten. So he shortened it to Kit. He could tell she still did not care for the nickname but tolerated it. He started down the hall, searching for the source of the noise he heard.
"Tharg!" Metz was glad to see his old friend. The last time they had been together was six months ago in an old abandoned building where all of the Nrothgare had taken refuge during a storm. Thargeron and the girl were on their way to the temple to start her training, and the other Nrothgare were heading out to continue whatever mission they had been on before they learned of Skylar's death. It was a good night, the seven of them talked and laughed, and for a moment, the world around them did not exist. For some odd reason, he felt it would be their last night together. Now that Te'Kay was dead, his premonition had become true.
"Why are you here?" Thargeron inquired as he packed clothes and other items into a haversack. The haversack would have been too heavy for an average person, but Thargeron was no ordinary person.
"I was in the area," Metz replied. "Why are you packing up? Taking the girl on an adventure?" He knew that was not the case, but he did not want Thargeron to realize he knew about Te'Kay. Thargeron ignored his question and continued to pack. This was not how Thargeron usually acted. Typically, he was very vocal about everything. Being the leader of the Nrothgare had made him very assertive, and though the rest of the Nrothgare did not care for it, they had grown accustomed to it. "What's going on?"
Thargeron stopped packing and turned to face Metz. "The Nrothgare is over," he said matter-of-factly. "I know it, and you know it." He started packing again.
"Where's the girl?" Metz asked.
"I sent her on an errand."
"Where?"
"It doesn't matter," Thargeron replied with a look of regret that Metz had never seen before. What had he done? Did he tell her to go home? Why would he regret that unless he thought the gods would punish him for it? No, that could not be it. Metz was certain the gods were not happy about the girl. So that was it. The gods had told him to get rid of her. Did he kill her?
"Enlighten me," Metz said as he stepped forward. Thargeron stopped packing and took a step back. Metz had gotten a little too close, which must have startled Thargeron. They were friends, but none of the Nrothgare truly trusted Metz. He knew this, and he used it to get Thargeron's attention.
"I told her it was time to claim her horse, and I sent her into The Deep Fog," Thargeron confessed. Metz stepped back in shock.
"Alone?"
"Yes," Thargeron replied. "She was never meant to be Nrothgare."
"Is she dead?"
Thargeron looked down, and Metz could tell his friend was regretful. "What do you think?"
◆◆◆
Krys reached the top of the mountain, and it felt like hours had passed since she started her climb. It was not as high as the mountains she had seen before. Back in Midtown, she could see the towering Mount Aurora, so tall that sometimes the clouds obscured its peak. Most of the time, the top part of Mount Aurora was covered in snow. Krys thought of the rare snowfall in Midtown during the past winter. She had seen snow before, but it rarely stayed more than a day or two. However, that winter, it had fallen so thick that she knew it had lingered longer. She had left before the snow had stopped falling, on the night she had drank the potion and helped the Nrothgare defeat the evil witch in the underground cave.
That night felt like a distant memory now. She had gone down to save Dariel, which she did, but because of the potion, she had to leave with the Nrothgare. She had been upset then but also felt like she was going on the adventure she had always craved. Over the next few days, as they journeyed, she had convinced herself that she would train as a warrior and then return to Midtown to marry Dariel. However, now six months later, she wished she had never left Midtown.
Krys sat down on a rock that overlooked the land below and reached into the satchel she was required to carry everywhere. Thargeron had insisted that she keep it and study the scrolls inside, but he did not know that she had also kept the leather-bound book her mother had given her the night she left with the Nrothgare. Some nights when Thargeron left her alone to study, she would read the book instead. The book was about the Almighty, the one God she believed in, even though she was now a member of warriors who served other gods.
She pulled out the book and turned to the page she had bookmarked. The last thing she had read was that the Almighty had created humankind out of love and that He was love. But she could not get past that part. If He was love, then why had she lost the love she had found? Why was she forced to join the Nrothgare, who served other gods? Why had she become lost in this strange world of fog? She closed the book and put it back into the satchel. Was her mother wrong? Could it be that the Almighty did not exist, and she was just another lost soul in a world of pain and death?
Krys stood up on the rock and looked down the side of the mountain. It was not a cliff, but the drop-off was quite steep. She wondered what it would matter if she jumped. If there was no real Almighty and she was lost in the fog, maybe it would be better to jump and end it all. She felt a sense of despair wash over her as she struggled to reconcile her faith with the harsh reality of her situation. Was she indeed alone in this strange world? Did the Almighty even exist? Doubts and fears swirled in her mind like the fog that surrounded her.
Krys gasped and stepped back from the edge, then turned around and jumped off the boulder onto the mountain's summit. Where did that thought come from? She had never had an idea like that before. Her faith had always been a source of comfort and strength, but now it seemed to offer no solace. When she learned about the two people who had killed themselves in Midtown, her mother told her that the Almighty did not give them the thought to do that. It was the thought of an evil being. Her mother never spoke about this evil being except for that one time. Even when Krys would ask, her mother refused to talk about it. Krys wondered if being in the Deep Fog, she was currently in the world of that evil being. Was this his home? Was that why she thought about jumping?
“Where am I?” she shouted as she stared at the swirling sky. “Are you real? Do you see me?” She stood there momentarily and then collapsed, feeling lost and alone. Her doubts and fears pressed down on her, crushing her spirit. Was her faith misplaced? Was the Almighty nothing but a myth? “Do you hear me?” She pleaded.
She lay there, wishing she could return home, when she suddenly heard something in the distance. What was it? She sat up and listened. There it was again. It sounded like a scream, and as far as she could tell, it was not very friendly. It rang again, and this time it was closer. Her skin felt like it was covered in ice. Whatever was making that sound was coming for her.
◆◆◆
Bradden sat alone on the cool stone floor, relieved to escape the oppressive summer heat. The only sound he heard was the steady drip of water from another cell. The absence of windows kept the room cool but made it dark and dreary. Bradden knew where he was - in the same cells where condemned prisoners awaited execution. Although he knew Lord Kamden did not intend to kill him, Bradden was unhappy being held against his will.
Suddenly, the loud clang of the main doorway startled Bradden, and he heard the door creak, followed by the metallic sound of it being closed. Bradden heard armor rattling as the steps grew closer. He wondered if it was a guard coming to check on him. Then he heard the jingle of keys and recognized Kathan as he appeared at his cell door. Bradden was sure he was finally being released.
“Keep quiet, or you won't live to see the morning,” Kathan warned, unlocking the cell. “Get up.”
Bradden obeyed and felt Kathan's gloved hand on his upper arm. “This way,” Kathan instructed.
They walked down the hall to another doorway, and Kathan unlocked it, revealing the night's heat. Bradden spotted the gallows, where prisoners were escorted to be hanged. But he knew he was not going to die, so he felt relieved as they passed the gallows and headed to an alley. Kathan chuckled. “Did you think I was going to hang you?”
“No,” Bradden replied. He had complete trust in Kathan.
Kathan released him and pointed down the alley.
“Go to the end of the alley and turn right through the opened gate,” Kathan instructed.
“What's happening?” Bradden asked.
“Just go,” Kathan replied urgently. “Hurry, there’s no time.”
“Thank you,” Bradden said as he rushed down the alley.
“Don’t thank me, save the girl,” Kathan shouted after him.
The narrow alley was filled with the stench of garbage, making Bradden nauseous. The hot summer days only intensified the smell. He covered his nose as he continued to the end of the alley, where the path ended with walls of buildings and a wall covered in vines. He looked back from the way he came and was confused. Kathan told him to come to the end of the alley and go right. To his right was a wall. Bradden squinted and saw flickering light through the vines. It was then he realized it must be the opened gate. He pushed through the vines and entered an open area where four armed men on horses stared at him.
“Is this the criminal we’re waiting for?” one of them asked.
“Looks like a vagabond to me,” another said.
“Maybe we should beat him down and take his clothes,” a third suggested.
“Don’t harm me,” Bradden protested, seeing their swords and knowing he was defenseless. “I ‘m friends with Lord Kamden, and you’ll be wise to stay back.”
The four men laughed. “Maybe Lord Kamden sent us to kill you,” one of them replied. Bradden turned to run back through the gate.
“That’s enough,” Kathan's voice rang out, and he appeared from around the corner, leading a horse. “These men are my best scouts, and they’re going to help you find Prypia,” he informed Bradden. Bradden spotted his sword sheathed on the saddle, and Kathan confirmed, “Yes, it’s your sword.”
“Does Lord Kamden know about this?” Bradden wondered.
“No,” Kathan answered quickly and walked away.
“My name is Hort, the ugly one here is Tabert, the blonde is Paul, and the uglier one is Quinton,” Hort introduced his men. “Get on your horse, and let’s go. We'll make better time riding at night.”
Bradden mounted the horse. “Thank you,” he said to Kathan
10
Waiting Time
KRYS TRIED TO LOOK to her left, where the noise had come from, but she stumbled and fell to the ground. She looked up, expecting to see a strange beast about to devour her but found something else instead. It was Gregog on his horse.
“Get up, girl!” Gregog said as he came to a stop. “There’s no time to waste!” Krys quickly jumped up, grabbed Gregog’s hand, and mounted the horse. She barely had time to settle before Gregog turned the horse around and headed back down the path that would take them off the mountain.
As the sound echoed again, Krys turned to look and was unsure what she had just seen. It appeared to be a tall, armored warrior for a split second, but then it turned into a dark mist and vanished.
“What was that?” she asked, confused.
“Keep yer mouth shut!” Gregog replied sharply. Krys did not appreciate his tone, but given the circumstances, she did as he said. The two rode down the mountain and into the woods where she had first entered the fog. She could see the tree where the opening to the cave was hidden but was surprised when Gregog turned away from it. The shadow warrior made another screeching sound, indicating it was close by. Maybe Gregog was trying to lead it away from the portal.
“You listen and do as I say,” Gregog instructed as they headed for a dense part of the forest. “When I tell you, jump off and head deeper into the forest.”
“What about you?” Krys asked.
“Just do what I say, girl!” Gregog's tone was harsh, and Krys wanted to let him know she did not appreciate it but knew now was not the time. “Now!”
Krys jumped from the horse, landing with a thud on the ground. A sharp pain shot through her shoulder, but she pushed through it, rising to her feet and plunging deeper into the forest. The trees grew denser, and the path ahead became increasingly challenging. Eventually, Krys came to a halt, finding rest against the sturdy trunk of a tree. She leaned against it, casting her gaze back in the direction she had come from. At first glance, all the trees appeared lifeless, their branches devoid of vitality. However, as she studied them further, Krys noticed ethereal streams of a blue and gray mist delicately drifting around each tree. Looking closer, she saw that the mist also coursed within the bark, intertwining with the very essence of the trees. Even the leaves bore veins of the mystical mist, breathing an eerie semblance of life into their existence. Though the trees seemed lifeless, within the realm of the Deep Fog, these trees thrived uniquely and mysteriously.
After about a minute, Krys began to breathe normally, but she heard a noise and forced herself to stop breathing. “Krysta,” she heard Gregog call out in a soft voice. She released her breath and smiled. He called out again.
"I'm here!" Krys responded. It surprised her how quiet it was in the forest compared to the mountain. Maybe the trees suppressed the overwhelming noise. Gregog found her, sat down with his back to a nearby tree, and sighed in relief. It had been some time since Krys had last seen him, back when they faced off against the witch in Midtown. She instantly recognized him. Despite not being as tall as the other Nrothgare, he exuded a formidable strength that contradicted his stature. His robust build, though not lean, showcased his fitness. Krys found herself rather fond of him, except when he attacked her brother. Bradden and Gregog had sparred to gauge Bradden's fighting abilities. Bradden had gained the upper hand, and in frustration, Gregog resorted to using his supernatural power. Krys was not happy about it. However, she could understand Gregog's frustration toward Bradden, as Bradden's fighting skills had taken Gregog by surprise.
