CHAPTER THREE
The Fog's Judgment
As days went by, Meris made it her mission to find me in my hiding spots each morning. Ever since I disappeared for weeks, she has been especially worried. I never told her which hiding place I would choose on any given day, but she always checked them all until she found me.
I am still puzzled about how I managed to sleep for several weeks. I suppose these long sleeps really can last a very long time.
Sometimes Meris brought me some of her rations, slipping them away from the dining hall to give to me. It was tempting to accept them, but I knew she could get in serious trouble, and I did not want anything bad to happen to her because of me.
The dining hall is the place I most look forward to accessing once I become an official member of District 98. It distributes free rations twice a day to every member of the District. That is not entirely true for Meris, though, since she was born without District permission. Her parents must pay a fee every week for her to receive food, but at least she gets it. People say the rations are some of the worst-tasting meals possible, yet they would still be a step up from the dirt-and-water mix that I often rely on.
Other kinds of food are produced in the District, but they are expensive for anyone living on the basic allowance. If you have work, it can be different, but Meris parents are out of work for quite a few years with the exception of specific commissions made to Jharim.
The month the advanced class was set to begin, Meris started bringing me a basket of bread each morning, and in the evenings, Elina made a vegetable soup. We would sit outside the residential district and eat, ignoring the strange looks from passersby. Elina also told me that both the Captain of the Guard and the Captain of the Chainrunners donated money to the library, which meant a small portion went to her.
For a while, I did not feel the gnawing of hunger, and because I was no longer weak, I could stay awake during the day. So I started walking around the District for the first time in a long time.
People still looked at me with worry, or perhaps fear, but I realized most had not seen me in months. At least this time, nobody tried to beat me into another long sleep. I began to think Elina might be right. Maybe they are slowly beginning to accept me.
Just as these thoughts crossed my mind, a young girl, no older than five, threw a stone at my face. Blood trickled down my skin, and I prepared to run, but I noticed that the adults around her were actually holding her back. Only the little girl looked at me with anger.
She shouted, “You killed my father.” Her rage was mixed with sorrow, and as she reached for another rock, an old woman grabbed her arm and dragged her away.
“How? Who is your father?” I asked, stunned, wondering if I had done something I could not recall.
Before I could learn anything more, the old woman led her away. Later that day, I asked Elina about the girl and discovered that her father had died of hunger during the winter. Although the dining hall hands out food, supplies ran out for a time during the winter.
Many people died from starvation, as they do every winter since I arrived. That was the reason for the girl’s accusation, blaming me for her father’s death.
Elina told me once more that I was not at fault, but deep down, I felt guilty. Perhaps I do deserve to starve, and maybe the District residents are justified in rejecting me.
That evening, I could not bring myself to eat the soup. Guilt overcame me, and for the first time in my life, I refused food. Everyone understood why, so they did not press the issue. I left and wandered the District through the chilly night, moving away from the residential area.
The district does not have any walls, but we do have a city guard equipped with certain artifacts to fight against the beasts that decide to test the ward from time to time, and of course, they patrol the perimeter. However, there are simply not enough guards to keep an eye on the entire perimeter all the time.
It is not difficult to sneak near the border of the perimeter, and that is exactly what I do. I walk toward the fog, and as I approach it, there it is, the reason for all of this, for all the pain.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
I stare deep into the thick fog that is only a few inches away, hovering and surrounding the district entirely. In the end, we must be very lucky that our ancestors were in Araksiun when the fog came, and also for having the wards. I cannot even imagine how it is in the rest of the world.
This close to the perimeter, there is very little light, but the fog is clearly visible. I can still see it and reach out to touch it with my bare hands. The fog answers me by enveloping my hand, and I can feel its touch.
The fog that makes us prisoners, the fog that makes us suffer.
But is it really the fog that made those people suffer and starve? Or am I the one at fault?
As I consider this, my hand already in the fog, I feel the same kinship I feel for the people in my dreams. In the fog, I feel the same warm sensation of the sun, with the cold night replaced.
Deep down, I sense that the fog might be more than just a harbinger of destruction and pain. I feel as if, as if… as if the fog is not my enemy.
This goes completely against anything Elina ever taught me, yet despite reason, I feel as if the fog is just, and so I decide it can judge me.
Although the idea seems unreal, I instinctively push those thoughts aside, stand with my arm extended inside the fog, and then wait.
Elina has told me many times that the fog brought the monsters, and that all the creatures who caused our pain and all the destruction we know lay within the fog. However, we only know the fog came with the monsters, nothing more than that.
I leave my entire left arm in the fog, as if I can somehow find solace by letting the fog itself judge me. Any monster could snap me in a moment, and I would not be able to fight it, which I know very well.
Even though I have been asked many times how I survived the path from District 7 to District 98, I only remember walking until I saw some lights, and then the patrols brought me inside. I do believe the monsters were busy killing everyone in District 7 and did not care about a small boy walking down the road. Yet maybe the fog had simply decided not to kill me that day.
As I stand there with my arm extended for almost half an hour, no monster comes after me, and nothing besides the fog touches my arm. I can already see the lights from a patrol guard approaching.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. Strangely, it has indeed brought solace to my heart.
I did not kill that girl’s father. It was famine caused by the monsters in the fog, not me.
The land of Araksiun is known for its great magical properties, generated by the power of the city or perhaps even by the great ward that is supposedly weakened, assuming it is not already destroyed.
With its power, the city can withstand time. The buildings themselves are not magical, but those inside the wards have stood for thousands of years and barely need any repairs; the same goes for the city, even though the beasts still destroy everything they touch.
Yet, the city still stands, even if in ruins. Almost any water source here is drinkable, and food can take months to spoil. However, with the magical properties of the land comes a big problem, something I guess the ancient people of Araksiun never thought they would face.
That is, cultivating food within the city itself.
We in District 98 are on the outer edge of this part of the city. Our remaining neighboring districts are 100, 99, 97, 96, and 95. The districts are arranged in a circular line, and the next ones after District 100 used to include the lower-numbered districts like District 7.
Unfortunately, the few districts below number 10 in this line were destroyed on the day of my arrival, cutting us off. On the other side, the line is also broken at District 95 because many of the higher-numbered districts have long since fallen.
District 7 and other lower districts possessed artifacts that allowed them to grow large amounts of food, which they traded with us. Without them, we have to produce our own food here in District 98. It is simply not enough to feed everyone. The other districts around us also lack such powerful cultivation artifacts.
And so, people starve. That is what happened to the father of that little girl, not something I did. The monsters caused his death. I was simply the omen, the sign of change that arrived. Nothing more.
That night, it did not rain, and it was not overly cold. Even though I had not eaten the soup, I felt no hunger, because I had eaten bread in the morning. Above all, I felt a warmth in my heart, brought by the fog.
As I lay my head on the stone floor in one of my hiding spots, I watched the fog on top of the ward’s range until very late, and before I knew it, sleep came to me.
That night, I had that dream again. Even though it ends in pain and sorrow, I try to focus on what happens at the beginning of the dream. The trees are such a marvelous sight, and I have read about them, but I have never actually seen one before.
Elina told me there are a few districts that still have some trees, and I hope to see them one day.
But above all is the sun, the sun that brings warmth, that brings light.
I wonder if it is real, since I have never seen anything beyond the fog.
Maybe one day, I might venture beyond the fog, and perhaps even beyond the walls of Araksiun.