A flat plaform jutted out of the fog, as if floating amidst the clouds. Halfway up, the fog thinned, visibility increasing until Tommy was pulled up, tied to the rope as he was. He could see two other such islands, far in the distance, much lower than the one he had landed on. The incline that had been almost vertical at the bottom, had become a gentle slope that he could walk.

The two guys were pulling the rope. Their expressions were relaxed but focused, a lot more reassuring.

"Where's Dagger?" asked Tommy, "Is she okay?"

"I'm here, Dummy, don't shout." her voice answered from the top.

'Why did you shout your reply then?'

Soon, he could see her sitting on the floor, legs folded and face scrunched up as she gingerly bandaged her arm. The one she had stabbed herself.

"You guys ok?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yep, thanks mage."

"Oh yeah, thank you Dagger. You saved us."

"No worries. You're not that bad either. Unlike these dumbasses", she said with a smirk, with her uninjured arm wide and pointing exaggeratedly at the two.

"Hey!! I was sick, okay."

"But it's the fog..."

Dagger laughed. Tommy sighed. The two looked down and sideways sheepishly. Like a choreographed scene. Still, a palpable sense of relief hung in the air.

Tommy made a tour around the tiny haven keeping them safe from the fog. It wasn't large. There wasn't anywhere else they could go either, until the fog went away. They waited.

Every once in a while, one or the other would pace around. The sun descended soon enough, leaving them in the dark. It was a bit cold but they had barely any fuel or wood. Hell, they barely had enough rations to keep them fed for another meal at best. Still, they lit a small fire, to ward off the darkness and the fog if nothing else, while Fatty grumbled.

"I swear we are cursed to be hungry."

"I swear, Fatty... Stop talking about food."

"We had so much of it too. Yet, nothing."

"Shut up. Go to sleep."

Lester and Dagger took the first watch, while Tommy and Fatty went to sleep. The fog didn't seem like it was going anywhere, but it made sense to have someone paying attention in case it rose, or went away so they could leave.

Tommy couldn't really sleep much. He dreamt. In one nightmare, he was lost, having lost his body in the fog, having become an incorporeal spirit unable to go anywhere, destined to be forever stuck. In another, his fingers disappeared one after the other, then his arm, legs, torso, same happening to the other three around him. Sometimes it was his brother and grandfather accompanying his as wolves chased their caravans through red grass, other times he saw a mage tower surrounded by fog.

Eventually, Lester woke him up. He seemed tired and on the edge, having completely lost the composure from earlier. Dagger, on the other hand, walked with a lot more swagger and non-chalance, not wary of much.

'Spooky. Like they have switched bodies.'

Fatty was deep in thought so Tommy didn't say much as they took their post, looking opposite ways for any signs. Nothing happened. Only the sound of Fatty polishing his shield rang. Tommy too got busy with his thoughts.

'Why did I join these guys? I've always been so responsible. Have I changed so much already?' He wanted to deny it, to blame the two events with Babyface. Yet, there was more. He felt stifled under the new burdens. He had excelled back home, even having to work day in and out, he was free, for he had chosen. Yet, when presented with the opportunity to learn at the most prestigious place, he was being so stubborn.

'So much to take in - the magic, the nobles, the expectations, all this excitement.' A completely new life, one unplanned. His meticulous self just didn't have control over it so the impulsive self took over. That is how he had always seen him - the controlled mode for routine work, and the impulsive mode for crisis. Except, his whole life was continuously in jeopardy, or felt like it.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

'This won't do. I can do this too, just like running my own business. I swear, I'll become a mage, make connections, graduate, and become the best magic artifacts salesman ever. That would be nice.'

He smiled. Focusing on feeling his mana again, one particular thought stuck with him - 'Can I use my mana to avoid the fog?'

They needed to leave, as soon as possible. He felt responsible for the life of that woman, despite not having talked at all. As the heir, he had learned to take care of people manning his shops and caravans. Especially for someone who saved him from a possibly deadly ambush, he was willing to risk his life.

His earlier attempts to impart his mana had had limited success, but the dreams gave him new ideas. One in particular - imparting mana the way babyface had attacked him. It had a mental effect, and if he could outdo the fog's effect by his own mana, that would mean they could leave.

Thinking back on what he did in the ravine, he tried to channel his mana. He first wrapped it around his palm like he always did, then tried to focus on how it felt during the interview. And the dreams.

"Hic..."

Fatty turned to him, surprised by the noise, then his eyes went wide, "Where's your hand, mage?"

His hand had vanished. Tommy could feel it but not see it. Nor could Fatty. It was scary. He had been meaning to impart his mana to Fatty and experiment going into the fog. Not this.

His thoughts in turmoil, he couldn't focus anymore, and his hand became visible after a while as if the mana had evaporated. Taking a deep breath, he first entered a meditative state this time.

'Just because it is invisible doesn't mean it doesn't stop the fog.'

He kept practicing, until he felt like he could cover someone else too.

"Fatty, I was to check if I can protect you from the fog."

"You want me to go in there again? No way."

"Come on. We'll have to go eventually."

"No, we don't."

"Really? You will just stay here? We have to inform the town. Did you forget about the injured-"

"We will. When the fog is gone. I'm not going in there."

"But..."

There argument woke Dagger up, who saw the once again missing hand and needed brought up to speed quickly and quietly. To their surprise, she was ready to be a guinea pig. So he spread his mana, trying to cover her. And failed. The mana tore itself whenever it got thinner, like watery dough. And he just couldn't output enough to really cover her.

His other idea was to cover just her head, imparting some sort of defense, but that failed as well. First, he had to keep his hand on her head while completely focused, and still, as they entered the fog, his mana barely held on before Dagger jumped up, back out of the fog.

"Stopped working", she said, and headed back to her palette.

Back to start, he kept playing with ideas. He had another breakthrough - making other objects like his shoes vanish and reappear. A lucky break that, one that he tried sorely to get over his inability to control or pass any sort of mana with reliability. Yet, any sort of anti-fog measure or even a better mana bolt eluded him.

"Well, atleast I'm not getting tired easily." he mumbled.

"Give up mage. We don't even know which way to go even if we make it to the bottom."

"Right. There's that. I really should have left with the caravan."

Fatty just snorted as he continued to wax his shield.