Chapter 18 – A Forest of Silver Mist (3)

A freezing wind pierced the silver mist slowly rolling downhill, towards Midhir, and towards Lohssa behind him. He shivered as the cold penetrated his clothes, chilling his bones. He tightened his fingers around Arwen’s crystal staff and caught the thread of spiritual power within him.

As soon as he tugged at it with his mind, it welled up like a spring of water. He felt it flow throughout his body, up his chest to his shoulders, then down his arms, finally arriving at his fingertips. A soft, golden light shone through his closed eyelids, prompting him to open his eyes.

The gold coloured crystal held by the four prongs of the wooden staff had begun to glow softly, and weakly. With the backdrop of the ever-approaching mist, it looked like a candle trying to hold back the vast darkness of the night.

He swallowed his despair, and the fear the mist invoked, and turned his gaze onwards. He let his own power resonate with that of the golden crystal, and slowly began casting the weaves needed.

The mist rolled in, now only a few steps away from him. Looking at it made him feel like he was looking at something endless. Different hues of silver swirled within the mist, tendrils slowly crawling closer, seeking more of this world to cover. Whispers reached his ears, words and sounds he couldn’t even begin to understand.

The crystal’s glow began to grow stronger as he completed the weave. The mist rolled in and hit a wall of golden light.

As soon as the mist touched the wall, Midhir felt his strength drain. He collapsed on his knees as sudden weakness caught him unprepared. His fingers clutched the staff – he couldn’t let go. He had to keep the resonance casting active no matter what.

To his left, quite a ways behind him, Alistair stood with his spear struck to the ground. The noble stood tall as the golden wall extended from the staff towards him. To his right, some distance behind him stood Willow, and a bit further from her Arwen. Willow’s rapier was struck to the ground as well, the green crystal on its pommel emitting a vibrant shine. Arwen held Midhir’s sword the same way, it’s sharp edge struck to the ground, emitting a crimson light so bright it could rival the sun.

The mist rolled into the barrier formed by the four crystals embedded into each of their weapons. It crashed into it like a wave against a cliff, over and over again before it began slowly rolling to both sides instead.

Cautious relief washed over him. Still holding onto the staff with his left hand, he pushed himself back up on his feet.

What he had created was essentially a distraction – a giant, V shaped barrier that instead of stopping the mist, diverted it to either side, forcing it to go around Lohssa and the plateau where the airship landed.

Arwen was the first to let go of one of the weapons. She hesitantly pulled her hand away, and watched the shining crystal embedded in the hilt. Once she was sure the barrier didn’t need her presence there anymore, she hurried over to Midhir. Alistair and Willow did the same a few moments later.

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“Are you ok?” Willow asked as she was the first to reach Midhir. “When you collapsed I thought you couldn’t do it!”

Midhir shook his head. “I’m fine, just exhausted,” he admitted with a grimace.

Alistair and Arwen soon arrived. The mist had already passed Lohssa and was halfway across the distance of the plateau.

“Thank the Daughter and the Sun that it works,” Willow whispered, joining her hands in a small prayer.

The mist passed the plateau from either side but didn’t creep close to the airship or the townsfolk gathered there. It would soon conjoin as the mountains forced the mist to roll down a steep valley.

It was so silent. Except for his breathing, and the others’ clothes rustling, silence filled his ears. The whispers were gone, but the swirls in the mist only became more apparent. It continued to grow thicker. He probably wouldn’t even be able to see his own nose if he stepped in there.

Biting his lips, he hung his head. An innocent, young girl was in those woods, in this thick, terrifying mist. And maybe, just maybe, she was alive.

“And now we wait,” Alistair stated, glancing at the three weapons struck at the ground. “I would have never thought of using our weapon’s augments to act as small pylons,” he added, shooting Midhir a curious glance. “Nor did I believe it would actually work.”

“But it’s draining him,” Arwen piped up, worried. “Help will arrive tomorrow, the earliest. Can you hold this barrier for so long?” Her eyes were wide with worry. Her fingers clenched around the cloth of her cloak as she shivered with cold and, quite possibly, fear.

“It’ll be exhausting, but-“

“I think I can help,” Arwen cut him off. She reached for the staff, her fingers wrapped around its wooden shaft as she took a deep breath. The shine of the crystal grew ever so slightly brighter. “You can let go,” She smiled, “Taking over an already functioning Resonance is simple – Instructor Soraya showed me how to do it the day I started learning.”

Midhir hesitated. If she was wrong, they would be engulfed in mist. Lohssa would too, and so would the airship, and the people taking shelter there.

“Trust me,” she asked, with a confidant, almost relaxed smile.

Midhir let go of the staff, half expecting to lose himself in the mist.

The wall of golden light stood strong as Arwen proudly smiled. Her gaze then turned to the wall of light. “Such a detailed weave,” She muttered as the spark of curiosity glimmered in her eyes. “If you were stronger, you could even use this to repair some damage to the Veil, I think…” She tilted her head sideways as she pondered.

“Maybe.” Midhir admitted. “I’d need to be a lot stronger. You, on the other hand…” he couldn’t believe she didn’t seem even a tiny bit tired. Resonance casting, and using spiritual power seemed as easy as breathing with her.

“Your power is on another level,” Alistair nodded, looking at Arwen. “The staff was a fine choice.”

The girl blushed. “I agree. It spoke to me – I had to try it.” Her smile froze all of a sudden.

A voice reached his ears. Distant, barely audible, but a voice. A girl’s voice. His eyes opened wide as he took a step forward, standing right in front of the wall of golden light. “Lillia?” he whispered.

Lillia… Lillia… Lillia…

His words echoed, an ominous, repeating whisper that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Was that her?” Arwen asked wide eyed, her gaze darting from Midhir to Alistair and Willow.

The other two seemed confused. Alistair scowled, while Willow shrugged. “I didn’t hear anything.”

The whispers once again rose from the mist. Constant, unending whispers that he couldn’t understand filled his mind. He shook his head, trying to focus on that distant, weak voice he had heard before.

“Even if she’s alive, we can’t reach her with the mist like this.” Alistair made a vague gesture, pointing at the mist all around them. “It’s-“

A low, distant growl reached his ears.

“Hush!” Midhir hissed. Were those… footsteps?

The mist swirled, then he saw it – a pair of bright blue, otherworldly eyes on a wolf-like silhouette.

Their gazes met, and it pounced.

image [https://drive.google.com/thumbnail?id=1AE26oxRJ1VLUwn9TY2qt61ati41Cd6bv&sz=w2400-h400]