Brume, dense as always, filled her vision. Liris shivered. Pockmarked soil stretched out ahead, as far as she could see; about twenty feet. A sharp jab in her back, nearly breaking the skin, she stumbled forward. How fitting, the oaf failed at the simplest task a Keeper had, abuse of power. If this was too complex, what was left? Making tools for the miners? She snorted at her joke before the panic hit. An annoyed grunt behind her, another jab, she could feel a drip run down her back.

What wonderful weather we're having. An absolutely beautiful day. Can't forget; eggs, flour, and salt. Was there anything else to add to the list? What wonderful weather we're having...

The thoughts flowed smoothly, repetition had done its job without flaw. Over and over they tumbled in comforting familiarity. Buried deep underneath was the hate. How could she have been so careless? …eggs, flour, and salt... The shadow of the wall was nearly gone now, that comforting line only a few steps ahead. Beyond that, the last of the farms and then, who could say? Brume of course, that endless fog of sickly green. What was hidden in its depths? As much as her heart quaked and every instinct of self-preservation screamed for her to flee, she had to admit it carried an elegance belaying its peril.

Each mote drifted along, deflected or deflecting in turn. It was hard to imagine how such a tiny thing could create so much devastation. Dancing in infinite complexity, the Brume was a welcome distraction to her inner turmoil. To the right and left of Liris marched many others. She hadn't bothered to count. Worn clothing, dirty faces, they all looked the same. Few faces were familiar, and those that were only to a middling degree. That was a comfort.

Growing more distant with each step, the city lay behind them. The afternoon sun created a picturesque scene as it filtered through the white spires. From high above, the collection of buildings looked like a tiny island amidst an ocean of green. The wall, an enwrapping cliff. The fields extending out, beaches tapering into the abyss. Here and there, a break in the pattern. Bare patches and roads, none of which managed to pierce beyond. Far below, the procession marched onward.

They paused at the edge, tense. Well, Liris was. Looking around, it certainly appeared as if she wasn't an outlier. Even her gracious escort seemed shaken. Serves him right for being a- anything else to add to the list? What wonderful weather… She could feel reality reaching for her, yanking away seditious thoughts and hope in equal measure. Both left with a pang, leaving room for terror to take up residence. They really were going in. How dare they rip people from their homes for this? How many wouldn't return? Harsh eyes focused their gaze; she retreated. A truly glorious day to experience awakening! Which amazing power would she soon be able to wield for the veneration of the council? Apparently, reality hadn't pulled hard enough.

In the collective stillness, movement. The lone Guardian maneuvered between rigid bodies, every head turning to follow him as he passed by. His gray robe hung low enough to scrape the ground as it swayed. Tiny plumes of dust, also a lifeless gray, floated aimless in a mockery of the mist. Surely it couldn't actually be true...a tightness near her heart, increasing by the second...the stories were real? This wasn't just an excuse to get them out of the city? To perform whatever vile machinations necessary to awaken early?

Evident by the dread filling all the faces nearby, she wasn't alone in the assumption. She pictured the mental screams of anguish erupting in young brains, no need to waste effort on mental defenses within this silent cacophony. Her mind jumped to...anything. If this was true, what of all the other claims? Those who never came back? Was this it? All her life had led to dying in misery? Was that so terrible of an outcome? Siros and Melna! Would they be facing the same haze of green in a year? Should she run?

Over her shoulder, the wall looked grim. It stared down in cold apathy, the singular mar on its surface closed and locked tight. Run? The strength was gone from her legs anyway, they were so cold. If that Keeper brushed her arm, she'd collapse. Weak! Always too weak, it was revolting. And what if she didn't die, wouldn't that be worse? To be some crude blade to be wielded against the people? Maybe running was the correct decision, not to the barred gate...but into the green. It would be fitting, honorable even. Marching into oblivion in silent protest. Showing no pain, making no sound, disappearing forever. She could feel the disgusting smile creep across her face, unbidden. Whatever plans they had in store, they could enact them naught. Though, who would take her place? Another cheap life to be swept away just as carelessly? Regrettably, or for fortune's favor, there was no alternative but to press on; be it gallow or only pain awaiting.

The Guardian had stopped moving. From deep within his robe, a small box was produced. Glimmering in the waning light, the gold stood out all the more in the drab surroundings. Funny how such a shine could be made by such a cheap material. However, he didn't give her time to theorize on economies and merchant’s greed. The lid was thrown back, and a small shard of metal withdrawn. A quiet gasp escaped those nearby. Even the Keepers weren't immune to awe. It was gray as well...uniform...perfect. The nearest Keeper handed over a golden staff, eyes never leaving that priceless lump. Well, it did have a price, if you had to get pedantic about it. One she'd never comprehend so there was no use dwelling on it. Idiot. This was what her brain decided to focus on at a time like this? When there was a piece of iron right before her eyes?

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With great care, and an overabundance of pomp, the Guardian affixed the iron atop the staff and raised it above his head. Tucking the bottom end in the crook of his elbow, he held the pole steady and stepped into the Brume. It fled before the metal, a sphere of clear air intruding on its domain. Just as quickly, specks of orange began appearing on the lump of iron. Another shove broke Liris' concentration. At least it was with a hand this time. They were all moving now, into the unknown. A few more steps and the sphere was fully surrounded. The sunlight filtering through could barely be deemed 'light', but at least this was familiar.

It was perfect, she could just imagine it was early evening. This was all a dream, her empty stomach would force her awake and she'd laugh at the nightmare; and also wish with her very soul for it to never return. How cold it was. It did make sense, there were no stones to warm her feet long into the night, but the chill seeping through worn fabric into her bones was far from welcome. It was as if the ground had run out of things to drain the life from and now it was targeting her. They walked and walked.

Strange shapes emerged from the Brume and were soon left behind. Rock formations of various shapes, all pitted and etched. Mounds of dirt in all manner of sizes. More rarely, fissures that plunged deep below where no light could reach. There was a road, if you could call it such. A twisting path would be more apt. It wove its way across the landscape, or Liris presumed it did, the disintegrating flagstones were the only way to tell direction. Wait, was the sphere getting smaller? Her eyes flicked to the iron, now thoroughly covered in rust. A few motes were encroaching on their space, a yelp of pain to her left. The figure at the edge had a hand clasped to their arm as they pushed toward the center.

At the sound, they came to a halt. The Guardian lowered the staff, the top of the sphere mirroring its movement. Pulling out an emerald dagger, he tapped and scraped at the iron, bits of rust breaking free and fluttering to the ground. The sphere sprung out to its original diameter with new life. They were safe once more...as safe as one could be surrounded by death and captors. Staff raised once more, they continued, but not for long. They had arrived.

This time it was pillars that emerged from that green-tinted darkness. Odd, to be sure, but odder still was their condition. The surface of each one was pristine like it had only been placed there moments before. They were all clustered together, eight in total, two of which tilted precariously. The Guardian had come to a stop at the center, he turned back towards the city and addressed them with a voice flatter than the ground under his feet.

"It is a high honor, to be chosen as you have been. Today will be your chance to become a contributing member of society and further the prosperity and stability of our resolute city. Tomorrow will be a brighter day than any you have experienced."

Without pause, he continued with somehow less emotion.

"We shall now begin. Stand next to a pillar and place a hand upon it. Disregard the sensations. It matters not if several of you touch the same one. As is required by law, I must inform you that the experience will be unpleasant and some of you will not survive. We thank you for your sacrifice and rest assured that your names will be engraved on the wall of remembrance."

Urchins knew better than most how to recognize a lie, most were told with some effort to be believed, that attempt was glaringly absent from the man in gray. In a strange twist of irony, it provided them a sliver of ease, this they could understand.

"Begin."

Nobody moved. The three Keepers were quick to jostle them into motion. One by one they were arranged around the pillars, each with a hand extended. Liris was the last to be escorted to an open spot. As she drew near, she could feel every hair on her body bend towards the pillar. Ominous, exciting. This close, a thin gap across every facet of its surface was barely visible. A gap in what, she could not say. Only that there was a gap. She placed her hand on the cold stone and nearly jerked back from some base instinct. An unsettling vibration traveled through her fingertips, up through her arm, only stopping in her head. It grew in intensity, resonating within her skull. Her stomach churned, she forced it to settle.

"Lastly, if any of you removes your hand from the pillar during this process, you will die. If not from the forces coursing through your body, then by the hand of the Keepers standing by. It is a distasteful responsibility, but anyone with twisted energies is of grave danger to us all. Do not fear, we shall return."

Fear was all she felt. How did they expect anyone to not fear in this situation? Liris' mind raced. Come to think of it, why were they here at all? Did they need more Woken this urgently? They couldn't wait the few more years? WAIT...RETURN!?

As if she was a mile away, the Guardian took a step, another. Slow yet inevitable, each crunch across the dirt grew the distance between them. More importantly, the iron-tipped staff. The sphere was moving again, they were not. Thoughts blurred, ran, slowed. She couldn't breathe. Between the vibration and fear, there was no risk of her moving even if she wished to. It started with a lone shriek. A soul curling wail, tonality of simply...wrong. She swore her heart stopped beating. A second and third joined the first, both somehow higher in pitch. Death itself was screaming in her ears. The edge of the sphere was close now, so close. Just on the other side of her pillar. The edge rushed forward, eager to let the Brume take her.

It reached fingers first, burning, melting. Faster and faster, up her arm, covering her body. Down her throat, into her very lungs, eating through skin and nerves. A last voice joined that twisted choir...hers.