Despite the lightheartedness of the patrol assignment, it dawned on Denerik that he was witnessing a true emergency. More and more shops were abandoned. Away the from the main hub, the shops gave way to open ground sparsely filled with caravans and wagons, in which the owners had taken refuge. Their doors were shut, or tightly sealed with tarp, hay, or other fillers, anything that would stop the thick fog. Visibility was quite low.

Denerik found it too eery. He had once been an acolyte, a child priest of the Son of Fire, and now he was mired in the mortal enemy his god - the fog. If only the flames of mana could truly cleanse the poison brought upon the human mind by the vicious assault of shapeless shadows.

Often enough, they encountered unconscious or unresponsive folks, who ideally needed to be transported to the makeshift shelters. But that was the job for the regular guards, not the newly appointed cadets. In most cases, they reported the location of the casualty, particularly if the person was asleep. Often enough, some nearby merchant would offer aid and put them in a spare tent or atleast out of harm's way.

A few exhibited concerning symptoms - mania, delirium, derangement. Such folk always had mana, making them dangerous. They were to be escorted to abandoned shops and wagons to be locked in, or all the way back to the Wayhub where they could be held in the cells until the anomaly passed. The group had two such cases in their custody.

The pair turned out to be a couple, although they two been found quite far away from each other. The man was far gone, unable to follow direction, and had to be handcuffed. Aldy took charge of him, pushing him forward. Every so often, the man tried to break free. Or run. His ragged breathing and constantly swerving head didn't inspire much faith in his constant proclamations of being alright, either.

"Why are you attacking us? I have nothing, nothing I tell, not a dime for scoundrels like you. Unhand me you bandits, or my father will hear of it. I am not someone you'd want to cross, not at all. We are all going to die!! Please, let me go..."

"For the Lord's sake, get a grip Polig. These fine cadets are helping us." the wife pleaded.

The woman, Electra, was better off. She was the first one they found, and had been hard to calm down. She insisted that her husband needed their help. Her breathing and countenance hadn't been any better than Polig's was now, but she calmed down once they agreed to search along their patrol route.

As they continued, she became almost sane, actively helping the cadets in keeping the man in control, as well as answering all of their questions.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The two boys had received Miriam's message, 'Quite a rare case, this woman. Keep talking to her. Ask her questions. It will be great for your assignment reports.' And so they took turns conversing, talking about whatever.

"You said you were a merchant? What do you guys sell?" Miriam asked.

"We trade spice, Polig and I. We had a whole caravan, fresh harvest from the east. What will we ever do... oh Lord, I shall have faith in you. This must be a test..."

"What about yours beasts, Ms Electra?" Aldy asked.

"Beasts? Where? Where!? Monsters!? Kill them. Kill them a-www....wwuuuugggh"

The man's shrieks were muffled as Miriam skipped over and stuffed one of her new scarves into his mouth.

"So much better..."

"Ah, my Polig... I'm sorry, dear...", the woman sighed, pale and shaking, tears in her eyes, but she gathered her resolve quickly enough.

"So, beasts?" Aldy asked again, in a friendly tone, just a hint of curiousity.

"I didn't see any monsters, cadet sir."

"I meant the pack animals. You come here in wagons, did you not? Something must have pulled them, right?"

"Ah... nay... they are lost to us. The Lord didn't deem to extend his mercy... Pardon me, oh Lord, I dare not blame your plans.."

"They ran away?" Denerik asked.

"In a way. We couldn't afford to save them when we were losing ourselves. They run with their ancestors now."

"Huh?"

"She means they are either dead or dying." Miriam clarified from the front, continuing to move forward and scanning the surroundings. "Happens a lot. Most oxen and mules die. Some mutate into monsters and have to be put down. Once in a red moon, a unique beast advances while retaining sanity, mostly smart and well-trained pets - those become prize-.. Over there!"

To the front and left, the fog parted to reveal a camel. It was lying motionless on the ground, it's head bent and twisted unnaturally. As they approached, they realized it wasn't dead. Close. It's hind legs were crushed and pinned under a toppled cart and its cargo, the neck and midesction snapped by something heavy. Blood flowed glacially in a thin stream, pooling around it and soaking into the beige coat. It's brown eyes were glazed, breathing shallow.

"The lord is merciful" the woman murmered, gesturing with her cuffed hands, "Go back to whence you come."

"Mmmmm.. mm mmmm.."

"Polig, dear.. please be patient.. we'll shall survive, if the Lord wishes..."

The woman continued pacifying their agitated ward. Only aggravated but futile struggle answered her pleas.

That's when they heard the loud boom, in the direction they were headed.

"That's where the hub is!"

Ugh!