When the gray comes to stay.
Photo credit: Joy Pixley
Stepping through the hut’s door, Hennar froze. The mist. That was no ordinary morning fog. All those rumors of people caught in the endless mist, villages emptied in its wake. But that was so far away. How could it be here already?
Hennar yelled to her husband to gather what he could while she shook the children awake. If they left right away, they might yet outrun it.
Her hand quivering, she opened the shutters on the kitchen wall.
The mist was there too.
Hennar squeezed her youngest to her chest. No way around. They would have to go through.
Photo credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Note that the Endless Mist (a.k.a. the Killing Fog) is part of a longer story about an event in Layor that, while its actual implications were scary enough, nonetheless inspired many spurious tales of terror among its people. You might feel reassured to know that Hennar and her family are probably not in any immediate danger—other than becoming refugees if they abandon their farm—although a community in panic can create its own risks.
See another story about Hennar here: Fog of Death