In a matter of seconds, the mist claimed it all.

I turned to Fono.

“And you too are a thought,” I said to him. “You are a figment of my mind. Disappear!”

It was very plausible for my mind to have simulated a scenario of me meeting Fono in the mist.

“I am real,” Fono said with a small grimace. “You can’t make me go away by simply thinking that I am not.”

I observed him intently for a while. After being exposed to so much unreal stuff, I wasn’t convinced.

“Now tell me,” Fono said. “How do you know my name?”

All right, maybe Fono was real. He lived inside Pook after all. And the mist was Pook.

“So you don’t remember me?” I asked him.

Fono looked at me fixedly for a couple of moments, rubbing his lips with a finger.

“To think about it, I can recall seeing you somewhere, but where exactly I have no idea,” he said.

I reckoned that if I tried to nudge Fono’s memory and make him remember who I was, his reaction would be the same as that of Pook or Bono and Bui. A better utilization of time would be to proceed with the quest.

“Pook told me that I must build a tower,” I said.

“Well, you already built one,” Fono said. “But it failed and crumbled. I guess you just need to build a better one.”

“Are you going to help me with it?” I asked him. “Can you too think things into existence. Maybe we can together think a better tower into existence.”

Fono laughed.

“No chance of that,” he said. “This is your quest. You are the one who will be getting the rewards. Why should I help you? Hmmm, why am I here in the first place?”

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

I shrugged.

“Why are you here in the first place?” I asked him.

Fono turned sharply at me.

“Wait a minute. You accepted this quest. I am here to stop you from making the tower,” he said, “that’s why I am here!”

He suddenly lifted his arms, as if to strike me. Caught unawares, I cowered. But Fono didn’t hit me.

He just kept staring at me queerly.

“You are not a player,” he said.

“I am a neutral one… was a neutral one,” I said with a tremble.

I theorised what had happened. Fono had been placed in the land of the mist by Pook in order to stop the player who accepted the quest from constructing the tower. However, when Fono had seen me he mistook me for a fellow evilun, thanks to my rapidly changing affinities, and decided to help me instead.

A quick check of Fono’s stats confirmed he was an evilun. No wonder he had forgotten to attack me.

“Well,” said Fono, curling his lip in confusion. “Should I stop you from making the tower or not?”

“Spare me?” I said, raising a hopeful eyebrow.

Fono fell back on his angular stone buttocks, causing the ground to bounce.

“Pook said to stop the players,” he said. “You are not a player.”

“Exactly,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief, “You are smart. You’ve got logic. So, any tips on how I should go about building the tower?”

“First off, get rid of this mist,” Fono said, irritatingly smashing a fist on the floor. “I am tired of being stuck here for ages just for Pook’s sake.”

“But how do I get rid of the mist?”

“Like you did with those pebbles covering you,” Fono said, “The mist too is a product of your thought really. When you were inside the house and looked out through the window you saw that it was misty. At a subconscious level your mind presupposed that the place outside should be filled with mist. As a result all that’s here is the mist. What you can do is stop thinking it's real. You know what, start thinking about the forest. Come now, start thinking that there are trees all around you. Start thinking!”

I gave it a shot. I pictured the trees from the forest. Not long after, trees began to shoot out of the ground. It was like watching a reforestation video clip in fast motion.

“Ah, greenery!” Fono chirped. “Much better! Much, much better!”

Additionally I fantasised about sunshine and a bright blue sky. The warm sunlight kissing my skin felt so relaxing after an eternity in the depressive mist that I whistled in pleasure.

Fono began to stroke one of the trees. But the tree fell flat on the ground.

“Oops!” Fono said. “You forgot something.”

I saw my mistake

No roots.

To fix that, I visualized roots growing out of the bases of the trees. These roots sunk into the soil and secured the plants upright.

“That’s better,” Fono said.

“So how do we start the tower?” I asked Fono. I was finding that taking suggestions from the senior stone giant was getting my creative juices flowing.

“You would need a clear ground for a big tower,” Fono said.

In a matter of minutes we were in the middle of a clearing as big and level as a football field. Of course the trees still dominated the terrain outside the clearing.

“Perfect,” Fono said. “Now I guess, you can proceed to make a new tower.”