The fog wrapped around you, tickled, and nestled against your palms. There were no paths here, no direction—only you and the Murk. At first, it was quiet, almost gentle, and then—like a beast: keen and ancient.

Every breath was soaked with damp rot, moss, and something sweetish, like a decaying apple. And yet... you weren’t afraid.

Even though you were wearing only a nightgown, you weren’t cold. The fog seemed to sense it and kept you warm. Your attention was drawn to voices. You had long grown used to strange beings speaking to you from the unseen, but these voices… they were different. And there were several of them.

You ran toward the voices, but suddenly someone pushed you. You stumbled over a stone and hit your head on something hard—and then… complete darkness. Through the darkness, you heard the voices drawing near: one male and a couple of female ones.

Everything blurred before your eyes. You saw three faces—one man and two women. They were whispering about something. The man’s hand pressed a cloth to your forehead, and with the other, he supported your neck.

— Girls, go home and prepare some cotton and antiseptic. And please—don’t tell Mother the girl came from the fog. Make something up, but lie.

You felt him lift you easily into his arms, but then everything went dark again.

You woke up on a soft mattress, carefully laid near the fireplace. You crawled out from under the blanket and looked around the room. Your hands found a bandage on your head, and you winced at the dull ache. The wooden door creaked open, and the man entered the room. Seeing that you were awake, he sat down beside you carefully, as if afraid to scare you off.

— Are you all right? Hungry? My mother brewed you some herbal tea. Want some? It’ll take the pain right away.