Outside, the Howling swept across the dark forest and slowly the deep, colorless fog suffocated the land, from great arch trees - ancient and wise, to struggling briars – hardy and wicked, till the stubborn weeds – everlasting no more. Shadows flitted just beyond sight, faintly outlined against the pale mist. Impossible shapes, a scrambling of limbs, their countless eyes, watching, watching from afar. But they were getting closer, closer, closer. There was no moon tonight.

Inside it didn’t feel safe. A sorry squirming tongue of flame sputtered in the hearth, blackened way past anything. It offered no warmth. Your mother’s soft, nervous singing showed her breath in the dull light; flickering. Dying. She was beautiful, mother was. And wise, and strong, and big. Huge – taller than any man or woman you’ve ever seen. She’d always looked so sure of everything, no fear in her. You’d doubt whether she knew of such a thing. Such a mortal thing.

This Howling was no different than the one before, or the one before that being no different than the thousands that had been swallowing the land since when the Old Gods walked the mortal realm. But to you it was different, now. This time there was no safety inside. Mother could protect you no longer. Only sing, softly. A slight quiver to it; making the familiar calm lullaby sound so eerie.

From the corner of your eye, you watch the mist roll through the broken window, leaking onto the old groaning floorboards. Mother strokes your cheek, pulling your attention back to the song, now, almost at its end. The irrevocable fog crept across the floor, slightly parting around your mother’s feet, pooling underneath your bed. Her voice is soft, coaxing. She’s trying her hardest to put you at ease.

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You watch, horrorstruck, as shadows scuttle beneath the shallow carpet of mist. Like fish in a murky pond; no more than vague shapes, blurry smears. Sometimes you caught glimpses of what they really were. You shut your eyes. These were not things you wanted to see.

You heard the near silent Howling call to you, slipping in between mother’s humming. Obscure words, twisted emotions, begging wishes. Never had you realized you were so alike. Not until now. Mother cups your chin, squeezing slightly. But you could feel how much force had once lingered in those fingers.

“And when she saw those burning eyes,

 Shin reeked that ashen smell,

She knew right then t’was a disguise;

A being come from Hell.”

Mother’s words rang clear now. Dispelling those scratching voices. You swallow the tears away with difficulty and start singing together. The room – ever darkening.

“Don’t hear their words, don’t hear their cries

 Flee inside, run and hide.

 Don’t head their calls, they’re only lies

 Don’t ever touch the Other Side.”

The Fog began to rise, climbing the bed’s frame. Your mother’s touch no longer felt warm. Around you the air stirred slightly though there was no wind. The blurry room fades to black by degrees.

“Can’t you stay?” You ask, the world was swimming for the wet in your eyes.

“I will be with you, my son.” You couldn’t see her clearly. “Always. Just remember that song, and the moons will reward you. I’m sure of it.” She sounded strangely sad, saying that.

“Rohm rewards boldness and cunning.” Your voice croaks as if you were strangled. “I’m not bold, or smart.”

She strokes your unruly hair, a deep brown. Very unusual in the Clearland.

“Don’t fret, my dear.” She whispers. “Shin, the Highest, blesses those with determination and bravery.” Her touch grew colder. “And you are brave.” Colder. “Just remember to be determent, love, and all will be fine.

Then, the cold came.