Caught in the Mist

The iciness pierced her skin. Elanith gasped and closed her eyes as she lowered her foot deeper into the silent lake. When the water reached up to her knee, she let her other foot follow. She threw her head back and inhaled deeply. The chill seeped into her veins and crept up her legs, over her waist, across her arms. She shivered and chuckled softly.

After hours of trudging through the forest, the lake did a wonderful job of banishing the weariness in her bones. Opening her eyes, she pushed away from the edge and sank into its icy embrace. A short distance away, she broke back through the surface, gazing at the crescent moon peeking out among the stars. Thin plumes of mist hovered across the lake. Inching closer, they drifted past her to the shore and into the thick forest beyond.

A gentle melody on the breeze pulled her attention to shore. Squinting, she peered into the gloomy treeline. Her feet took her a few steps forward, but she barely noticed the movement until she grazed the grass on the bank. As she touched the damp earth, a dazzling light lit the night sky, devouring the stars. Elanith shielded her eyes as the light raced through the forest and engulfed her where she stood frozen at the edge of the lake.

***

Cool moss and fern leaves brushed against his hand. Dorian pulled at it, inhaling deeply. He wondered how long he would be able to exhale before his lungs began aching. He lasted about 17 seconds before he breathed back in.

‘Can you see it?’ Sylas called, scurrying from one bush to the next. ‘Where did it go?’

‘I can’t see it,’ Aedric answered. ‘It can’t have gone far.’

‘Dorian!’ Sylas snapped. ‘Stop moping in the bushes and help us look. It’s your dinner too.’

Dorian snorted. ‘I didn’t ask to come along. I’m only here because Mother begged me to spend quality time with my brother. You know I find hunting a waste of time.’

‘More of a waste of time than staring at parchments with a half-dry pen in your hand?’ Sylas sneered, crossing his arms.

‘My pens are never half dry, and at least my name will go down in history. Who will carry on yours if you kill everything that could tell your tale?’ Dorian retorted.

Sylas snorted and glanced around again. Other than their group, there wasn’t a single living creature in sight. Even the birds were quiet; nothing moved in the trees except the branches themselves. ‘We lost it,’ he grumbled, glowering at Dorian.

Dorian shrugged. ‘Don’t blame me. Next time, you should aim better.’

Sylas stalked closer, but their childhood friend Rowen stepped between them. ‘We’re wasting time. If we’ve lost this deer, we should find another one soon before it gets too dark.’

‘We should go back now,’ Dorian countered. ‘The sun has already set; we won’t have much light for much longer.’

‘We are not going back empty-handed,’ Sylas said, turning on his heel and heading deeper into the forest.

Dorian and Rowen glanced at each other before following the rest of the party into the gloom. The trees thickened rapidly, blocking out the already weak light. Dorian felt a shiver run up his spine and peered back. The path behind them was barely visible. A thin sheet of silvery white was creeping in at their heels. His heart sank and he grabbed Rowen’s arm.

‘The mist’s coming in… We need to turn back. Now.’

Rowen frowned. ‘Mist? It’s still too hot for any mist to settle.’

Dorian pulled on his arm and spun him around. ‘Then what, exactly, is that?’

He pointed at the oncoming haze, which was growing heavier by the second. It curled around the gnarled trees in a thick veil, obscuring the path in a shifting grey. Rowen turned pale and called a halt.

‘What now?’ Sylas snapped.

‘Mist’s coming in; we’re turning back,’ Rowen answered.

‘Why are you afraid of a bit of mist? You know this forest better than anyone.’

‘I do, and that’s why I say, we turn back.’ Rowen glowered at Sylas, rising to his full height, but Sylas just set his jaw and held his head high.

‘No, not until we’ve caught something. This may only be a sport to you, but I have a family to feed!’

Dorian leaned against a tree and sighed. He scanned the disappearing treeline, Sylas and Rowen’s bickering fading into the background. The mist surged past, enclosing them in a cool, wavering wall. Everyone fell silent, Sylas’s mouth still half open as he noticed the changing landscape.

Rowen scowled at the young hunter. ‘Next time I say, “turn back”, we turn back immediately.’

Sylas grimaced and nodded. ‘But it should be easy. We came from that direction, didn’t we?’ He pointed to a spot behind Rowen where the tips of branches were still peeping through the mist.

‘Are you willing to swear that on your life?’ Rowen asked.

‘Alright, then where do you think we came from?’

Rowen scanned their surroundings and shook his head. ‘We should stay where we are until the mist clears. Finding our way out of this will be impossible.’

‘Like hell,’ someone grumbled and set off in the direction Sylas had pointed.

‘Fenrick, wait!’ Rowen called, but Fenrick pushed on along with a few others. The mist enveloped them, and the rest of the party had to run to keep them in sight.

‘Wait!’ Rowen called again.

The mist swallowed his words. The sound reached Dorian in a muffled echo, even though he was only a few paces behind. He felt every nerve in his body stand on guard. His ears strained to hear a single sound, and his eyes ached as he tried to pierce the suffocating wall. Something rustled behind him, and his breath hitched as he spun around.

Dim shadows seemed to be weaving in and out of the haze. Dorian swallowed hard. ‘Keep moving,’ he muttered, stumbling as he rushed to keep up with the group.

Suddenly, he heard a soft grunt and thud. A few shouts broke through the mist, and soon, he found himself caught in a tangle of limbs. Fenrick swore as he wriggled out from under the heap of hunters, scowling at an unseen obstacle as he rubbed his shoulder. Dorian slithered off the pile and edged around them.

The mist was thinner. He could make out a clearing in the forest with an old building in the middle. His foot bumped against something hard, and he looked down to find an old pillar in pieces on the ground. The broken edges were smooth from years of wind and water. The intricate carvings were dull, and Dorian had to squint to see as he ran his fingers across them.

‘I think we found your attacker,’ he said, grinning at Fenrick, who just scowled at him and treaded deeper into the clearing. He only took a few steps before he yelped and jumped back.

‘What?’ Sylas gasped, body taut.

Fenrick pointed a trembling finger at a hulking shadow in front of him. Rowen approached them carefully, keeping his gaze fixed on the unmoving figure. He reached out and touched it, then laughed.

‘It’s only a statue,’ he said, shoving Fenrick closer. ‘I think this used to be an old temple. We’ll stay here for the night and find our way home when it’s morning.’

The men grumbled as their eyes darted across the clearing. Not wanting to get lost searching for wood, they huddled together in a relatively open spot. Dorian could feel the men around him shiver. He wasn’t entirely convinced it was from the cold. His own limbs betrayed him with an involuntary tremble whenever something moved in the grass.

A soft breeze played with the mist, chasing it around the clearing. As the night grew darker and the stars brighter, Dorian could make out more statues scattered across the field. The temple behind them was small. About four steps led to a courtyard with a marble pedestal surrounded by a pond. Behind the courtyard, the crumbling remains of an antechamber loomed, its once sturdy stone walls broken and scattered.

Wisps of mist clung to the corners and edges, shifting around but not thinning out. Dorian felt mesmerised by the sight. His eyelids fluttered and lowered bit by bit. As he drifted off to sleep, he could have sworn he saw one of the statues move.

***

Elanith felt drawn to the forest. Her feet moved involuntarily. Her body was still cold, but a pleasant warmth replaced the chill as she walked. She wove past the trees until she reached the outskirts of a small temple. A few people stood in the yard, chanting and dancing in the torchlight. Their shadows danced on their own, swaying to the rhythm of the flames while their masters moved to the melody of their songs.

The music plucked at Elanith’s soul, urging her forward. A movement by the temple’s shrine caught her attention. A stunning woman in a shimmering lilac and silver gown stood by an altar. Her hair, black as the midnight sky, sparkled with starry gemstones. She met Elanith’s gaze, smiled, and beckoned to her.

Mesmerised, Elanith approached the courtyard. The people parted before her, not once faltering in their steps. She climbed the stairs and sank to her knees, barely breathing as she met the woman’s vivid gaze. Her smile made Elanith feel like she had found a long-lost but deeply loved mother. Elanith smiled back and reached her hand out.

‘Welcome. I am Aeloria, Goddess of the starlight, mist, and moon. Are you lost, sweet child?’ the goddess asked, her voice like the gentle mist that swirled around them.

Elanith nodded absently. ‘I left my home. They wanted to confine me within our house’s walls, but I long to wander free.’

‘Freedom is not a blessing,’ Aeloria spat, her voice suddenly hard as her expression darkened. ‘Freedom is a dazzling but cruel flame. Luring you, it consumes everything you love until only ashes remain. You will be left haunted by reminders of everything you sacrificed for it.’

A shiver ran up Elanith’s spine, pulling her from her reverie. Aeloria’s eyes were filled with bitterness, and Elanith leaned back. But the goddess kept her grip on Elanith’s hand. Aeloria blinked, and the bitterness was gone, replaced by the welcoming light of the evening star. Elanith couldn’t look away; she was drawn in by the delicate light that radiated from the woman before her.

‘Come, dear sister,’ Aeloria said as she helped Elanith up. ‘I invite you to make this your home. Live here among your brothers and sisters who are happy to spend their nights dancing under the stars. You can rest assured that you will never lose them.’

Elanith gazed over the group. There were about seven people, four men and three women. They hadn’t stopped their celebration for a second while Aeloria spoke, entirely unaware of anything other than the music and their movements.

‘Would you like to join them?’ Aeloria asked, her hand on Elanith’s back.

Elanith hesitated, shrinking back slightly. The forest clung to the edge of her vision, beckoning her to explore its furthest reaches. She turned in its direction, and one of the dancers stopped moving. She frowned at Elanith and ran up the stairs, taking her hand.

‘Don’t,’ she said, pulling Elanith’s gaze away from the trees. ‘You won’t find peace out there, only loss and pain. This is better, trust me. This is home, safe and sure. Stay with us, please.’

The other dancers had also paused, watching her closely. They smiled and nodded at her. Was this real freedom, living carefree without fear and responsibility? Elanith glanced back at the trees. Their shadows seemed to thicken, dark and suffocating. She turned away and went down the stairs to where the other priests and priestesses had continued singing and dancing. Closing her eyes, she let the music carry her away.

They danced until dawn brightened the edge of the night. Immediately, the dancers stopped and stared at the light. Elanith’s feet grew heavy, dragging her gaze downward. She yelped and tried to leap back, but her feet wouldn’t budge—they were cemented to the ground. Helplessly, she watched with wide eyes as stone crept up her legs, rising until it encased her entire body.

***

Dorian shot upright. He wasn’t asleep yet; it wasn’t a dream. The statues were moving!

‘What is it, Dorian?’ Rowen mumbled, watching him through a half-open eye.

Dorian didn’t dare point. ‘The statues—they’re moving,’ he whispered.

Sylas groaned and pulled himself up. ‘This is the trouble with writers. Your imaginations make you see phantoms and strange creatures everywhere.’

The words barely left his mouth before he noticed the movement as well. His face fell as he sat frozen, gaze locked on the statues. The other men also sat up slowly, staring ahead with low jaws. The statues were stretching and groaning softly. The hunters could hear hushed voices as the statues spoke before turning to face the courtyard.

Dorian’s eyes widened when he realised the ruin was completely restored. The walls and stones were back in their place, strong and invincible. A fountain bubbled cheerfully from an arch over the pedestal, feeding the pond below. A light emanated from the antechamber’s door and swept across the courtyard to the shrine. When it reached the pedestal, it faded to reveal a striking woman with dark hair and fair skin.

In the clearing, the other women bent down and picked a handful of wild blooms each. They carried them to the courtyard and placed them in the bowl beneath the arch. The men lit torches and frankincense around the temple. None of them noticed the hunters wedged in place until one of the women glanced back. She blinked and shook her head, waving her hand to caution them back.

Dorian didn’t need extra encouragement. He inched back without turning around, pushing anyone behind him to follow. The group made it a few steps before the shimmering woman by the shrine noticed them and held up her hand.

‘Stop,’ she said, ‘by the command of Aeloria, Goddess of the night. You have entered the hospitality of my sanctuary; it would be rude to leave without paying your respects.’

Rowen took a small step forward. ‘Apologies, great Goddess, but we have nothing to give.’

Aeloria smiled. ‘Nonsense. Come closer; I am certain we will find something worthy.’

She waved her hand, and her entourage began humming a gentle melody. The song’s tempo picked up and swelled into a dance as the hunters approached. Dorian felt the music tempt him as he passed the first dancers. His feet ached to start moving to the rhythm, but he set his jaw and kept walking to the courtyard.

A few paces ahead, Fenrick, Sylas, and another man broke off from the group to join the dancers. Dorian’s heart sank as he watched his brother’s expression glaze over, lost in the beat. A movement to his right caught his eye, and he noticed the same woman as before dancing beside him. She moved closer and let her hand brush over his shoulders.

‘Don’t join the celebration,’ she whispered as she circled him and danced away.

Dorian almost followed her, but Rowen caught his elbow and turned him back to the goddess watching them closely. The remaining seven men reached the shrine feeling heavy and barely breathing. She smiled and reached her hands to them.

‘Your friends have the right idea. What better way to pay homage to the night than by embracing its harmony?’

Two more men glanced around and went back down the stairs. Dorian scanned the faces for the woman who had warned him. He saw her dancing at the edge of the group, her gaze turned away from the temple to the forest.

‘Will you not join them?’ Aeloria asked, pulling Dorian’s attention back.

‘We must respectfully decline,’ Rowen said. ‘Maybe we can offer you something else to pay tribute to your hospitality.’

Aeloria frowned slightly before she shook her head and smiled again. ‘You must be hungry and thirsty. Let me find you some refreshments, and you can enjoy our company for a little longer.’

She turned around and headed back into the antechamber, her glow intensifying as she entered. Dorian stood fixated until he felt someone pulling his arm. He turned to find the woman gesturing at them to follow her. Dorian set off after her immediately. Rowen and the others followed slowly, peeking back at the temple and the light within.

The woman led them to the edge of the clearing and into the mist beyond. The moment they left the temple behind, Dorian felt like a fog had been lifted from his soul. He inhaled deeply and blinked, then rushed forward to keep the woman in sight. A look behind him showed Rowen and two more men following them. The woman wound through the trees until they broke through the mist at the edge of a lake. She led them to a hollow in the bank and gestured to them to get inside.

‘Stay here until the sun rises. No matter what you hear or feel, do not return to the temple. Once the sun is up, get as far away from here as possible.’

‘Why?’ Rowen asked, catching her arm as she turned to leave. ‘Who are you? What’s happening?’

‘I’m Elanith, one of Aeloria’s priestesses. I made the mistake long ago of being captivated by the safety and comfort Aeloria offers those who feel lost and abused.’

Elanith grimaced and sighed deeply. ‘She’s meant to offer voluntary sanctuary and peace, but she has become greedy from grief. When she chose to become a goddess, she thought she would gain freedom, but her family was taken as a sacrifice. Now, she wishes to replace them by forcing anyone lost in the mist to join her entourage for eternity.’

Turning away, Elanith peered at the lake, her eyes filled with sadness and longing as she muttered, ‘I spent my life longing to feel the wind and the water against my skin. But the mist has stolen it from me.’

‘Why don’t you stay here with us?’ Dorian asked. ‘You’ve already managed to break away this far.’

She faced him and shook her head. ‘I’m bound to her. I can break away as far as this because I was the first she manipulated to stay. It weakens her hold on me, but not her curse. If I go any further, if I touch the water, I will turn to stone forever. I must return.’

‘Isn’t there a way to break free completely?’ Rowen asked. ‘Many of our friends have been caught in this spell.’

Elanith gave a small shake of her head. ‘They’re lost, I’m afraid. The only way we will be free is if the guardian of the night flaunts the vast glory of the day. But that’s impossible. Now, stay hidden until sunrise.’

Before they could stop her, Elanith disappeared back into the mist. The four remaining hunters sank to the ground. No one said a word as they stared at the mud.

‘The guardian of the night,’ Dorian muttered after a while. He leaned back against the wall. ‘The glory of the day.’

‘What’s that?’ Rowen mumbled from behind his arms. He had them wrapped around his legs and his mouth buried in the nook of his elbows.

‘The riddle,’ Dorian said, ‘I’m just wondering what it means.’

Rowen huffed. ‘It’s just nonsense.’ He dragged his hands down his face and continued softly, ‘They’re trapped there. I’ve led them to eternal imprisonment.’

‘But what if it isn’t?’ Dorian asked. ‘Why would it exist if it had no answer?’

‘You’re the writer, why don’t you figure it out?’ Aedric asked.

‘I’m trying,’ Dorian retorted, frowning at him. Then, he huddled deeper into the hollow and gazed across the lake. ‘The guardian…. That must be the key. Who guards the night?’

‘The moon, obviously,’ Rowan answered. ‘It’s the brightest light in the night sky.’

Dorian glanced up. ‘It’s not in the sky right now.’

‘No, but it should rise soon. Maybe an hour,’ Rowan said, leaning his head against the wall as he stared ahead vacantly.

‘Alright, how can the moon “flaunt the vast glory of the day”?’ Dorian muttered. ‘What would the glory of the day be? The sun? Maybe the moon should be as bright as the sun for the spell to be broken? If day pierces the night, Aeloria loses her domain.’

‘No wonder that girl says it’s hopeless,’ Aedric said. ‘The moon can never compete with the sun.’

Rowen released his legs and straightened his back. ‘Maybe not by itself,’ he said, ‘but I’ve seen it compare before. There was a terrible wildfire in the forest when I was a boy. My father showed me the moon as it rose through the smoke. It was blazing in all the glory of the sun itself.’

‘Do you think that would be enough to break this spell?’ Dorian asked, heart racing.

‘I don’t know,’ Rowen admitted, but his eyes were shining again as he scanned the sky. ‘It would have to be a very big fire, and it’s not guaranteed to work.’

Dorian shoved himself from the ground. ‘It’s the only option we have worth trying. Otherwise, we might as well abandon our friends and family at that temple.’

‘Which part of the forest would we even burn?’ Aedric asked, also getting up slowly.

Rowen pointed across the lake. ‘We’d have to burn it far enough away for the moon to still be visible through the smoke.’

Dorian studied the stretch of water to the distant shore. ‘We can swim that.’

Rowen cocked an eyebrow. ‘It will be cold.’

‘I suppose so,’ Dorian said, scrunching his nose. Then, he shook his head and set his jaw. ‘But would you rather stay here and wait for sunrise to find everyone else turned to stone?’

‘No,’ Rowen sighed, grabbing his satchel. ‘I have the firelighters with me. Let’s go.’

***

Elanith knew she should feel tired, but Aeloria’s light kept feeding her limbs with new energy. It couldn’t reach the exhaustion in her soul, though. She had lost count of the decades she had spent worshipping the goddess. Her heart yearned to be free, to return to the lake and continue her wanderings through the forest. There were so many places left that she wanted to see.

A light on the horizon caught her attention, and she stopped dancing. The other dancers also noticed it and paused. Elanith frowned. It was too early. Not only that, but it was the wrong horizon. Yet, the light intensified, a fierce red piercing the night. Heavy, grey clouds rose from the scorching crimson in massive columns. Elanith’s heart sank as she realised what was happening. The forest was on fire.

The other priests and priestesses murmured among each other, eyes jumping between the fire and the courtyard. Aeloria was inside the antechamber, chanting angrily as she tried to locate the men who had escaped. When she realised no one was singing, she stopped chanting and jumped up, scowling at the door. She rushed outside but froze when she saw the fire and smoke consuming the horizon.

In the distance, between the pillars of smoke and embers, the moon crept up between the fading stars. Elanith’s mouth dropped open. The great guardian wasn’t its usual silvery colour. Instead, it was a glowing red and gold, more dazzling than the sun.

‘No!’ Aeloria shouted, and Elanith spun around to see what was happening.

The goddess tried backing away from the fiery orb, but she seemed fixed to the ground. Elanith squinted. A smooth grey inched its way up Aeloria’s legs. The goddess fought to break free, but it was pointless. The stone kept rising, encasing her until she was nothing more than a cold, hard statue with a faint glow.

The moment the last bit of Aeloria’s body was covered in stone, Elanith could feel a weight inside her ease. It felt like a tether snapped, freeing her from Aeloria’s grip. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Her first free breath in decades. As she exhaled, her mouth curled into a big grin. Opening her eyes, she sprinted through the forest to the lake.

The mist was fading, and she found the way easily. At the edge of the water, she came to an abrupt halt. Holding her breath, she lifted her foot and let it dip beneath the surface. When nothing happened, she cheered loudly and rushed into the icy water. She dove beneath the surface. Her skirts flared around her, the soft satins drinking the liquid eagerly as she swam.

When she resurfaced, she noticed four silhouettes swimming a short distance away. Laughing, she waved at them as they approached. The flames flickered brightly behind them, dancing against the night sky while the fiery moon rose higher.

Written: January 2025