A Mist Rolls In
It had been five whole months since the last mist came. And as the red tendrils appeared under the door, a scream was trapped in my throat. It had been five months; nobody had survived the last attack. The killer mist was on the prowl again. Who had created this monstrosity?
It was the six hundred and fortieth year in the Caktor calendar when I first discovered the mist. It was in a dark, worn out laboratory that had not thought to be used in over one hundred years. I was trekking across the Giant's Glacier when I saw a peculiar sight. Steam was bellowing out of the abandoned laboratory. Being myself I went in for a closer look. As I pressed my gloved hand to the door, the glass blew out of the windows. I picked myself up from the snow strewn floor, as the first drops of rain hit my face. This was highly unusual, rain in the middle of a glacier? I looked down at my body checking I was ok, and was shocked to see blood seeping out of my leg. I groaned, these were my favourite trousers. Despite the pain, and ruined trousers, I was now determined to find out what was going on. After a struggle up the stairs I used a broom as a make shift crutch and sneaked through the doors. Shock hit me before the unbearable pain. Bodies were strewn across the floor, as if they had been carelessly dumped in a heap. There were gas masks strapped to the faces of the dead bodies with a strange kind of mist in them. As a second wave of pain hit me I realised I was about to pass out. I quickly marked out a five pointed star on the floor and wrote the incantation around the star. You never know when you will need some chalk. I struggled to sit down as a third wave of excruciating pain hit me. I fell, eyes rising to the ceiling I felt the air rush past me as I was sucked through the time complex and collapsed on the doorstep to Mrs Kendra's curry shop, just in time to see the angry scowl of a dwarf like lady.
I awoke to the delicious smell of Dragon's Breath curry and to a soft pillow under my head. I panicked not realising where I was. But I was soon reminded by a short fall out of bed. I climbed back up into bed and looked around the room that had been mine for fifteen years. I had been a while since I had been in this room but however it was spotless. That's Mrs Kendra for you; she doesn't let a single atom out of place. The room was dominated by a large walk in wardrobe and a mirror that took up a whole wall. Around the outside of the mirror were newspaper articles and sketches of the same man. In the mirror stood a young man that looked sad and beaten with a bandage tightly wound about his knee. I slipped on a white tee-shirt and some loose fitting jeans. And snuck out the door and stole down the stairs hoping not to disturb Mrs Kendra for more than one reason. But as I climbed down round the last spiral there she was tapping her foot like an anxious mother hen. I tried to smile but more of a wince came out as my knee buckled on the last stair. "What on this earth have you been up to?" she barked. I looked over to where she was standing and took in her formidable figure. Although she stood at five foot one, Mrs Kendra scared lots of people. Just looking at her I could tell why. Her hair was stuck to her skull like it had been glued in place. She wore a classic old fashioned house wife's outfit and shiny little black shoes. I preferred not to talk so I just shrugged. Also what would I say to not worry her more? She led me over to a blacked pot bubbling on the stove. A horrible stench was licking over the edges of the pot. This must be her famous 'Black Life Curry'. I swallowed my fear and marched over to the pot suspiciously viewing the strange concoction inside. She picked up a giant wooden spoon almost her size and placed it inside the pot, stirring the mixture inside. She then picked out a table spoon and scooped out the jet black curry and added to a plate of rice. "Eat up." She smiled. I took the plate a forced a smile to spread across my face. I took the curry up to my room planning to stuff it in the back of my cupboard.
As I glumly pushed open my door; I noticed she was lying on my bed. Typical, always asleep when you need her. I walked into my wardrobe and placed the curry on a shelf ready to be disposed of later. I walked back out into my room and glanced over to my bed, she was still asleep so I sat down in a chair and closed my eyes. I reached into my mind searching for any clue as to what I had discovered. I was rudely interrupted by a ball of paper hitting my head. I opened my eyes and wondered over to my bed where she now sat up awake. I slowly sat down and told her my story and what I need from her. After I had finish relating my story to her she rolled over and when back to sleep. Typical you rescue a talking cat and they turn about to be a lazy good for nothing waste of space.
I strode into my wardrobe and picked out my travelling clothes and a hooded cloak. I also took out my armour and my sword. I folded my armour up and placed it inside a pack I had ready on my bed. I then unsheathed my sword checking the marks I placed on it. To my surprise the marks had faded off the blade. I placed the sword on my desk and sat next to it. I pricked my finger and let the blood trickle down on to the blade. I reached into my mind and pulled out marks of fire, undoing, destruction and marks of unmaking, sharpness and strength. I held all the marks in my mind and let run down my arms and on the blade merging with the blood. I spoke a master mark to seal them to the blade. I opened my eyes and picked up my blade now with black fire dripping from the tip and sheathed my sword and buckled it to my belt. I opened my window and leapt into the night, looking back at the shop I realised that I'd never return to the run down hut that been my home for fifteen years.