Work Text:
The Fog Of Her.
Jun. 11, 2022
The old Fort sat on the top of the hill in the center of the island. A monolith of stone that once had held a Monastery of the God of War: Adanac!
Protections and blessings were layered within the walls of the Fort, from each residing Paladin, Cleric or Monk, who took up the position as Lord Belias.
The island was nothing but a large rock, anything growing, was from earth brought in by the few merchant ships that chose to land here, and placed in planters. The very town that surrounded the hill, was hewn from the very rock that it stood upon.
And though it was a hard land, we thrived.
The Merchant ships would come to buy the pearls from the oyster farms, the carvings made from an iridescent rock we could collect and then, there was the sea silk.
We were the only place known for this material. And the few merchants who knew of us, guarded the secret well. Prized for the way it shimmered and gleamed with inner light. Spells were more effective when embedded within the fabric. It was durable and stronger than any other material out there. And off the island, only the Noble born men and women could afford to wear it.
The silk is found in the caves to the west. Sea spiders make their nests there, and it was the job of our children and youths, to feed them in bad weather and collect both the iridescent rocks that fell to the cave floor and the stray strands of silk the spiders left behind. They cleaned the caves of the remnants of fish or birds that the spiders would eat. Any dead spiders, what hadn't been repurposed by the other spiders, were brought to the apothecary who would make tonics and medicines from them. They were large creatures and gentle. The kids made pets of them, and they seemed to enjoy the soft lifestyle.
Life, living, was good.
Until it changed.
Our first inkling of the trouble ahead came when the kids came back perturbed. The sea spiders were all gone. Not one was found. The men went looking, checking every crevice. No spiders. We were worried about our livelihood and confused as to where they had gone. And why.
Our second warning, was the schooner that limped into harbour. It looked like a derelict ship, but I recognized it as one that had left us 3 weeks ago. It was manned by five men, and they looked as if they had walked through Hell and came out the other side. Aged beyond what was natural, Lord Belias came to give them last rites, and they begged to be burned.
They wept that they didn't want Her to take them.
Rumors abounded, people were starting to feel terrified. Children, elderly and the infirm were relocated to the Fort, almost immediately. Many others slowly made their way up.
I and my uncle stood at the watch tower in the harbour. Look outs for anything unusual.
The Fog, amassing out on the water, a few miles out, was our last warning;
and a herald all at once. Now fog, in and of itself, is not unusual. But this fog..it wasn't moving. It just sat and built. It gave a sense of wrongness. And every now and then, I'd swear I smelled rotting meat, wood and something darker. When it built upwards, my uncle and I descended from the look out and
began clanging the warning bells.
Dread began to grow in my breast, as the sudden feeling of eyes, malicious eyes, fell on me. Uncle gasped and I whirled to see the fog suddenly leap forward. A hunting dog let loose. Shadowed limbs flailing in its depths, reaching out towards land. Uncle wrapped a hand around mine, and we ran.
A howling scream rose from the haze and echoing screams came from those not fast enough to escape. We were almost at the door when the fog wrapped around my leg and tried to drag me back. Uncle ripped me from its grasp and threw us both into safety.
The door slammed shut.
Lord Belias thundered a Word.
The wards blazed with Holy Light.
The Fog screeched in pain and rage. But it didn't follow us in.
Of the fifty seven strong men and women left in the town. Barely a quarter escaped to safety in the fort.
I sagged against my uncle, sobs tearing through my chest as I stared at my leg. A spiral of swiftly rotting flesh met my eyes. Then Lord Belias was there. Eyes blazing with a Holy Light. He placed his warm, large hand on my leg and thundered another Word. A flare of heat shot through me, intense burning in my leg. Then it just, asked away. As if it wasn't really there. He smiled gently at me and patted my uncle on his shoulder, before he stepped away. And glared at the door.
It's been days since we got here, and no one knows just what exactly, is going on. Lord Belias tries to keep our spirits up, but the spiritual pressure of the fog outside the walls of the Fort can be felt even through the wards. I can still feel the greasy, rotten,wrong feeling of the thing, that grabbed my leg. A tentacle but it was not really there. I keep checking my leg, certain I'd see it rotting away to nothing. I cry alot now, and stay close to uncle. He just holds me close, eyes dark with anger and fear.
I'm scared.
It's been weeks since we saw the sun. Weeks indeed, since we've left the confines of the Fort. The haze outside, roils with the shadowy limbs of the beasts unseen. And the voices of our dead call to us. Asking us to let them in. Or come outside.
I can hear my parents. Friends and others. Some of the voices, I do not recognize. They call us by name. They say that She loves us. She will take care of us.
One of the Littles asked Lord Belias who She is. He replied it was a demon who'd taken over the Goddess of the Sea's position. He told us that She was a liar. That Anadac would keep us safe, until the Gods could oust the creature.
I stare out the window sometimes when I'm thinking. They said that the Sea never gives up Her dead. She guards them jealously. They never said that She'd hunt us to add to Her collection.