CHAPTER SEVEN
The Long Sleep Comes
The thoughts of ending hunger in District 98 brought me an uplifting sense of joy, a feeling that made me realize how beneficial my experiments had turned out to be, even despite the risks involved. I had never imagined that my meager attempts at understanding the fog could have such an enormous impact. Yet now I see that I might truly have the power to make a difference in people’s lives.
For the very first time, I feel as though I can change something important in this place. I feel as though I can help District 98, perhaps even help reclaim what was lost on the day of my arrival. It stirs a hope that maybe, one day, people will see me as a Good Omen rather than the bad one they believe me to be.
That burst of optimism, however, did not last as long as I wished. Soon, the biting cold returned, snapping me back to the harshness of daily life.
By some good fortune, I discovered that there was a small commission in progress at Jharim’s workshop, which let me stay inside the workshop during the day. That spared me from the brutal winter streets for those hours. Even better, the forge itself is incredibly hot, so even someone standing on the far side of the room can feel the comforting warmth, despite the cold outside.
But when night came, it was the same old story. The temperature out on the streets crashed, and I found myself once again trying to survive without a coat. The one I had before was gone, and part of me was too ashamed to mention it to Elina or Jharim. They had kindly given me that coat, and I felt responsible for ruining it. I hated the idea of confessing that I had lost it, as though I had not taken care of their generosity.
Within moments of stepping into the cold air, I regretted my silence. Yet it was too late, night had already set in. There was nowhere I could easily get another coat, and my pride still held my tongue.
I tried clearing snow from one of my usual hiding spots, hoping to get at least a bit of sleep without being coated in ice. But another layer of snow quickly settled on me.
Whether I actually slept for an hour or two, or simply drifted into a haze of unconsciousness, I am not sure. When I opened my eyes, I was lying there with snow covering me like a thin, frigid blanket, and my whole body trembled. The sense of an oncoming long sleep began to pulse in my mind, that familiar creeping haze that threatened to pull me under.
All I could think about at that moment was the memory of warmth in the fog. I remembered how, the previous time, I had gone inside the fog to escape the cold, and it had offered me some strange sanctuary.
That memory tugged at me incessantly now. Even though the idea sounded insane, going into the fog, the home of monsters, I could not shake the recollection that it had actually saved me from freezing.
Was I merely delirious with cold? Possibly. The winter chill can make a person’s mind unravel, drive them to do desperate things. Whenever I am this close to losing hope, I try to write my thoughts in the book Elina gave me, just to keep some kind of rational check on my decisions. But when I opened it, I saw my own notes on the last fog experiment, I had literally slept out there and remained unharmed.
“Why would it be any different tonight?” I wondered, half numb.
At that, I stood and forced my stiff limbs to move in the same direction I had gone last time, not even worrying about any guard patrols that might have been out there. It was too late, and too cold, for me to care about being caught. If they had any sense, they would be in their stations, behind walls, staying warm, exactly where I should have been, if I had somewhere to go.
Finding the spot was not difficult. In just a few minutes, I was once again standing before the dense wall of fog. I hesitated only for a heartbeat before stepping into it. Right away, that odd warmth began to seep into me, as though the fog itself recognized my presence.
Relief washed over me. The cold disappeared almost instantly. My body still shook from lingering chill, but within moments, I found myself adjusting to the comforting embrace of this strange phenomenon.
“Blessed be the fog,” I whispered without much thought, simply grateful for the warmth surrounding me. I then recalled the abandoned house from the other night, just a handful of meters away. That was where I had sheltered before.
Yet the fog was not translucent this time. The lamps from District 98, which usually cast some light into the outskirts, barely penetrated here. The streets that were once lit by ancient lamps powered by the city’s underlying influences were, in this region of the fog, almost all shattered or ruined by the creatures that lurked beyond the ward. The only reason I could navigate was by memory, feeling my way step by step.
No snow covered the ground within the fog, but it occurred to me how utterly unsafe it was to sleep here, at the mercy of monsters who might be prowling around. It seemed laughable that I had done so before, lying out in the open while being so certain of my safety.
Eventually, I found the house again, mostly by intuition and touch. The handle on the door was still smashed. I supposed a monster must have broken in at some point.
“Please, let there be no monsters inside,” I thought, pressing on. I had no real way of knowing unless I actually went in and looked.
No light reached inside. From what I could see, or more accurately, from what my hands could feel, this building had two floors. Right near the entrance, I stumbled upon what felt like a countertop, or perhaps a shop table, something reminiscent of Jharim’s workshop design where he displays items to trade. Was this once a small store, or some merchant’s home?
Then there were stairs close to the door, steep and creaking. A new worry tugged at me: If I were a monster that craved human flesh, would I linger on the ground floor or go upstairs? Possibly, I reasoned, the top floor was less accessible, so maybe that was safer for me?
Without any real logic except that the second floor might be more isolated, I made my way up, each step protesting faintly beneath my feet. I realized that if a monster were lurking anywhere in or near this building, my noises would already have alerted it.
Still, if it was here, I was as good as dead regardless. So I pressed on.
The second floor proved to be smaller, maybe half the size of the first. I groped around in pitch darkness, certain that every stumble or bump might bring some horror upon me. But no creature appeared, and though it all felt deeply unsettling, I did find something incredibly useful, a bed. Or more precisely, a broken bed frame with a mattress that was still intact. The wooden slats were snapped, but the mattress lay crumpled in place.
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Pulling it free, I dragged it onto the floor. Despite my fear of monsters, the exhaustion of the day overcame me. The mattress, even in its battered condition, felt like a dream compared to the stone ground I usually slept on. Here, in the heavy darkness, I allowed myself to settle. Strange as it was, the warm fog and a soft mattress gave me the most comfortable sleep I have ever known.
When morning arrived, I woke to the gentle glow of daylight sneaking through a broken window. I felt a rush of bewildered relief. “I actually slept here in the fog again,” I thought, “and nothing happened.”
No vicious predators waited for me. No monstrosities lurked in the corners. Just an empty, dilapidated room filled with splintered wooden furniture and the remains of the bed frame.
I made my way downstairs, confirming that the first floor truly was some kind of small workshop or store, with a big open space that might have accommodated customers. The floor was stone, and I could tell from the architecture that once, someone lived above their own shop, which is not uncommon in the districts.
It struck me that no such spacious two-story building would ever remain in District 98 these days, at least not so underutilized. Space is at a premium, and any two-story structure would be carved into multiple living areas or used for official functions. But out here, beyond the ward, no one was left to manage or remodel anything.
Peering outside through the shattered window, I noticed just how wide the streets were. Many single-story buildings stretched out in rows, some partially collapsed. I even saw old plots that might once have been gardens or courtyards, scattered between them. The fog still hovered, thick yet oddly more transparent than before, enough that I could glimpse a bit farther than usual.
I took out my book and recorded the layout, describing everything I could see. As far as I know, the Chainrunners hardly get a chance to calmly observe the fog-bound city, since they are always running or fighting. This might be rare information worth preserving.
I recalled that it has been only a few centuries since the district reduced the ward’s range, excluding this entire area. And in that relatively short time, we have declined in many ways. The sturdiness of these old buildings contrasted with the cramped ones we construct now, as if testifying to that decline.
But something else caught my attention, once again, the fog seemed partially translucent. Last night, it had been extremely dense, making navigation almost impossible. Now, in daylight, I could see outlines of taller buildings looming at a distance, half-shrouded in haze. Why did it feel so different?
“Is it just my eyes adjusting? Or is this fog truly unlike natural fog?” I wrote in my book, adding a few lines about possible theories. It crossed my mind that Elina would be thrilled to learn about all this, if I could ever safely tell her.
“Just a little longer,” I said quietly, “until I prove that I’m worthy of a place in the district. Then I’ll share everything I know.”
That brought me back to my next experiment, to test whether creatures in the fog are actually hostile toward me, as an individual. Because so far, the fog itself had not sent any beasts to attack me, yet I knew from direct observation that monstrous beings do prowl within.
I had seen that horrifying creature taunting the guard who retrieved his sword from the fog. The memory still made my heart pound. Distracted by that recollection, I realized that if I truly want to travel to the ruined districts in search of a food-producing artifact, I must understand whether monsters would see me as prey. One trip probably wouldn’t be enough to find anything and if the monsters are guaranteed to attack on sight, I would stand no chance at all.
Still clinging to the faint possibility that they might ignore me, I decided to step outside and wander around a bit.
My curiosity outweighed my fear. The fog had turned somewhat see-through in the daylight, allowing me to pick out the outlines of structures maybe twenty or thirty meters away.
Now that I can see more clearly, I realize there is a large street ahead. It is just the second one past the main road that leads directly inside the district. A small slope of land trails behind me, the same slope I followed to get here. I am not even a hundred meters away from the ward’s range, and the slope continues onward until it nears the district’s buildings.
Even though District 98 has so little usable space, people still prefer not to build anything close to the ward’s boundary. The few structures caught in that zone tend to be abandoned or repurposed into defensive posts for the guard. I recall from Elina’s lessons that the council can never be fully certain how far the ward will extend once its power is reduced, so they avoid the risk of building too close. They have a general idea of the new range, but it is not precise, which has led to accidental exclusions in the past.
Facing this abandoned building, I see that one next to it is completely destroyed, only scattered debris and fragments of walls remain. Many structures out here are in partial ruins, sometimes nearly half collapsed, their roofs caved in long ago. As I take a few steps through the swirling fog, I spot additional buildings in the distance. They come into sight intermittently, the swirling haze revealing their silhouettes for moments at a time.
Many of these buildings display signs similar to those in the district’s trading quarter, which makes me suspect this area was once a small trade center or marketplace. The people must have been devastated when they realized the ward’s new boundary excluded this region. Then again, that was centuries ago, and nobody alive even remembers how it felt. The collective memory has faded.
I decide to explore a bit, noting that the fog is still thick, though I can now see more than a few meters in front of me. As I walk, my eyes trace broken rooftops, chipped doors, and rubble from old stone archways. A faint hush hangs in the air, as though this place has been deserted for an eternity. Eventually, I come across a water well, astonishingly, it still holds clear water. The wooden bucket attached to its rope remains intact, the wood preserved by whatever properties linger here, or perhaps it is just sturdy craftsmanship from ages past.
After wandering for a few minutes, I hear noises—strange, muffled sounds not too far off. My heart leaps. I quickly crouch behind the well and wait.
The noises continue. I hear footsteps, a creature walking nearby. Perhaps only one, but I cannot tell from which direction. I could run back to the ward for safety. It is not that far, maybe only a few minutes away at full sprint. But I remember, once again, Elina’s words echoing in my mind: curiosity is the greatest weapon, the greatest of them all.
Even with the risks.
My next experiment stands right in front of me: to find out whether the monsters in the fog will attack. And if they will, better to test it now, while I still have a chance of fleeing to the ward if something goes wrong.
As I rise just enough to peek past the edge of the well, I see a massive dog, easily twice the size of an ordinary adult canine.
But I was mistaken to think it was alone. There are actually three of them, prowling close together as they roam the empty street, sniffing the air and the ground. One of them lets out a low growl that resonates strangely in the fog, as though even the air trembles.
Dogs are not unheard of in the district; Elina explained they once made formidable hunters. I have, of course, seen normal dogs before, but these... I am not sure they can still be called dogs. Their claws and teeth extend well beyond what you would expect, even on a large beast, making them look nightmarish. Judging by their restless sniffing, they might already be tracking my scent.
But if the fog truly wanted me dead, it would have sent these creatures hours ago. I have witnessed how the fog reacts to intruders. It could have unleashed them long before now, so why here and why now?
As I ponder this, Elina’s words flow through my thoughts once again:
Curiosity is the greatest weapon of mankind.
I need my answers.
And so I step out from behind the well, allowing the monsters to see me clearly. My heart beats so loudly that my ears throb. For an instant, all I can think is: Let me be wrong, let them not attack.
But before I can fully comprehend their reaction, I glimpse enormous claws lurching toward me. A flash of searing pain erupts as blood spurts from my arm. My mind reels in shock, and the next thing I know, I am sprinting in the direction of the ward.
I feel a deeper agony tear into my neck, and warm blood floods my mouth. A choking darkness seizes me, dragging me down. My vision blurs, and everything fades.
The long sleep comes.