The mist was restless again. Arven grabbed my forearm before I crossed the gate. "Captain… the mist is restless. And the Devil never hunts twice without reason." I didn't ask what he meant. I already knew. I grabbed the candle lantern, adjusted my sword, and stepped through the gate.
The forest was silent. No wind. No insects. Only the sound of my boots against the earth. The palisade faded behind me. Then the village lights. Then the last memory of safety. The mist didn't descend. It grew. Thickening through the dark woods, swallowing me the way nightmares swallow children. It slid between the roots, crawled over the soil, climbed slowly up my boots. The air grew heavy. Breathing hurt. Walking hurt more. But turning back was not an option. I owed that much to my brothers. Rage and pride pushed me forward, dragging my feet deeper into the mist. A stubborn need to prove the Devil didn't rule my choices. Then I saw him. Standing between two twisted trees. Perfectly still. The mist did not touch him. It bent around him. Tall. Thin. Too still to be alive. His eyes burned like embers buried in pale flesh. And he was smiling. The bastard was smiling. Not like a man mocking you. Like a master watching his prey. My hand went for my sword. It didn't move.
"Captain…"
The voice didn't travel through the air. It formed inside my chest. I stepped toward him. The mist exploded. Not wind. Pressure. As if the entire world had folded inward. The ground vanished beneath my boots. I fell. But not downward. Inward. Mist forced its way into my mouth, my ears, my eyes. Something tore me away from a place I somehow already knew. Again. Another damned time. I tried to scream. The mist filled my throat. Then… silence.
I didn't hit the ground. I simply found myself kneeling. Solid earth beneath my knees. I knew the feeling. The mist slowly began to fade. I was no longer in the forest. In fact, I didn't recognize where I was at all. Lights flickered into existence ahead of me. One. Two. Five. Lanterns hanging in the mist, moving with human footsteps. Figures stepped into the light. Three men. Two women. One of them barely a girl. Their faces carried the same confusion I felt. We stared at each other like strangers dropped into a world that didn't belong to us. One of them raised his lantern slightly. And then I understood. They weren't villagers. They weren't hunters. And they certainly weren't saviors. They were lost. Prey the Devil had released into his hunting grounds. And the mist… The mist was our cage. Animals marked before the hunt. They were what Arven had been too afraid to say. They were like me. Others children from the fog.