Lena despised the sea, but the Sea of Mists was even worse. The witch woman remained confined to her cabin, her stomach churning with nausea so debilitating that she could barely drag herself out of bed. Unbeknownst to her, her subconscious was slowly devouring her from within.
Allendra, too, felt a sense of despair, though not as acutely as her aunt. She could sense that something was amiss with the magical mists that surrounded them. They seemed to beckon her towards an ominous abyss. If she stared at them for too long, she began to hear whispers, indistinct and incomprehensible. Hoargh, the half-orc seaman, warned her not to gaze upon the cloudy vista from the deck, and even the crew, though accustomed to this route, seemed to be unnerved by the oppressive atmosphere. They were restless, yet cowed into silence by the captain's authority.
"What lies beyond the veil of mist?" Allendra inquired of Captain Barth, as she stood alone on the ship's deck, her aunt incapacitated once more by the wrath of the seas.
Captain Barth turned his gaze forward and offered a wry smile.
"Many are the tales spun by the tongues of sailors," he replied. "Some speak of the Three Great Gods - Orion, Therion, and Demian - locked in eternal struggle with other godlike beings, whilst others whisper of demons and monsters lurking just beyond the shroud. There are those who claim that Araphia, the realm between realms, lies at the heart of the Sea of Mists. And there are yet others who believe that if one could venture beyond the misty barrier, they would find the Ethereal Realm, the land of the dead. But these are but fancies, with no basis in truth. I have sailed the seas for thirty years, and I have seen much and heard much. I have navigated every inch of the known waters, save for the icy expanse of the Frozen Ocean in the north. I have journeyed to the farthest western reaches, where the world ends, and I have battled the unyielding tides of the Endless Ocean to the east. Yes, perilous dangers surround us on all sides, hemming us in like a cage. But the terror that lurks within the Wall of Mist that engulfs the southern seas is like no other. I have never borne witness nor heard of a ship returning from that dark and treacherous realm. The stories that circulate are mere fabrications. The one who ventures into those waters shall never return, my dear."
"And do the mists move?" Allendra asked.
"Aye, they move, though at a sluggish pace," the captain replied, his voice darkening. "Sometimes they spiral into a whirling tempest, like a hurricane, but in slow motion, trapping all within its grasp. Once, we were almost caught in its deadly embrace. The watchmen, fools that they were, had dozed off, and we found ourselves racing towards the storm's heart. We barely escaped in time, but not without cost. The mercury that had touched the mist vanished into thin air, as if consumed by the storm's fury. The other ship, slower to react, became trapped in the whirlwind. We waited, for days it seemed, as the mist closed in around them. The screams of the men, lost to the tempest, still haunt me to this day. Some tried to flee by diving into the sea, but to no avail. Had we but a wizard, one with the power to cast a fly spell, perchance some might have survived. But alas, we had none. They were all lost, swallowed up by the Wall of Mist. That is why I station no less than two guards each night, one on the bow mast and the other on the main deck. They rotate every four hours, but their eyes never leave the shroud. For the danger that lies beyond is greater than any foe we might face."
"Thank you for the story, Captain Barth," said Allendra. "The sunrise is indeed beautiful."
"If you insist. And what's on the menu for lunch, Allendra?" asked the captain, his voice thick with resignation.
Allendra had taken up the role of sous chef for the past two moon cycles. She had started by striking up a conversation with Garther, a skilled human cook, and soon, due to the lack of crew, had found herself assisting him with the captain's approval.
"As usual, captain. A fishy fare," the girl replied with a wry smile.
Captain Barth wrinkled his nose. At the first month of the voage, they had feasted on pickled meat, cheese, and potatoes, all taken from their land stocks. But those provisions had long run dry, and for the last few moon cycles, they had been surviving on the meager catches of Fisherman, a former sponge diver from their crew. They had not set foot on a harbor in what seemed like an eternity.
The biggest concern was thirst. Drinking water was scarce, and even though one of the elves had been magically distilling seawater for them, he had made it clear that he wasn't pleased with his task. They had also been using their own rudimentary water purification methods, but it wasn't enough, and it wasn't healthy. The well-being of their esteemed guests was of utmost importance.
Captain Barth had always been in command of his ship, and his crew had followed him without question. He had even disposed of three goblins who were pilfering their dwindling supplies without batting an eye. But this elf was different. His gaze was too sharp, and his movements too quick. He always seemed to appear out of nowhere, and it made the captain's skin crawl.
"Master Baz, I beg you, no more of your tricks. My stomach cannot take it anymore," warned the captain every time the silent elf caught him off guard.
In response, the elf, who kept half of his face obscured beneath his hood, only grinned a wide, unsettling grin. He spoke his piece and vanished as quickly as he had appeared. He was not one for small talk, that was for sure.
Allendra had made repeated attempts to approach the two elves, but to no avail. It was nearing the end of their second month at sea when, one day, the elf with heavier footsteps pulled back his voluminous hood, revealing his face to the curious girl. Allendra was taken aback by what she saw and fled without a backward glance, her heart racing. It was the first time she had ever heard the two elves laugh so heartily.
As she sought refuge in her cabin, Allendra tried to shake off the disturbing image that had been etched into her mind. The elf's face had been ashen and unnaturally pale, with veins visible through his translucent skin. His dark gray almond-shaped eyes seemed to peer into her very soul, while his pointed ears, chin, and skull lent him an otherworldly appearance. His sunken cheeks and thin, ashen-gray hair completed the image of a being from the realm of the dead.
The next day, Allendra inquired about the elves to Captain Barth who, at the helm, scanned the deck cautiously. With no one in close proximity, the captain leaned in and spoke in hushed tones.
"Have you ever heard of mist elves?"
Allendra shook her head in the negative.
"I reckon the larger one is a mist elf, but I'm clueless about the other."
"Where do the mist elves come from?" Allendra asked curiously.
"They dwell in the hidden valleys of the Mistra Mountains, situated in the Black Desert, south of Ankhyra Continent and north of Romdaht -the abode of the Awyrgad. But no sane person would venture into that cursed land, as a noxious magical mist, more potent and darker than the sea's mist, shrouds those mountains. The mist runs through their veins, and they can release it at their foes during combat. Even though mist elves have a frail appearance, they are incredibly dangerous. It's said that they possess transparent, pallid skin due to their birth into that toxic mist."
"So it's like they can spray the poisonous mist like fungi spray their spores?" Allendra questioned.
"Indeed, little one. But enough talk about the mist elves," Captain Barth declared, glancing around once more.
"And the other elf?" Allendra pressed.
The captain shrugged his shoulders.
"He looks like an ordinary elf, but appearances can be deceiving. Now, off with you. I have a lot of work to do."
From that day forward, Allendra took to covertly listening in on the two enigmatic elves. But her efforts were often thwarted by the more vigilant of the two, who would abruptly depart whenever he sensed the little girl's presence. Allendra discerned that the duo spoke a language similar to the one Lena had taught her, albeit with a peculiar and shadowy dialect, punctuated by inscrutable sign language that eluded her understanding. Nevertheless, she managed to glean that the larger elf, the mist elf, addressed his counterpart as "Baaz," while the other went by the name of "Raaz."
On occasion, Baaz would inquire, "Any news from Bishop?" Raaz would respond with a negative gesture.
"The Leader is not pleased," Baaz lamented one day.
"You speak of the Awyrgad," Raaz intoned.
"I answer only to Phandomir," Baaz retorted.
"You are not of our kind," Raaz remarked.
"I hail from Quane," Baaz declared.
"One day, Therion will claim your soul," Raaz prophesied ominously.
"Until that day, I shall make the most of my life," Baaz countered, punctuating his retort with a cackle.
This was the most substantial discourse Allendra was able to glean from the elves' cryptic conversations.
* * *
"The following morning, Fisherman dove into the sea in search of sustenance, but he never resurfaced. After that harrowing incident, Baaz engaged in a heated conversation with the captain on the bridge, while Allendra watched from afar. Later that same day, their course shifted northward, and after a week of traversing the tempestuous sea, they arrived at a vast bay. They disembarked onto a wooden pier situated on a secluded shore, adjacent to a hill replete with earthen edifices. Raaz and Baaz ventured onto land, leaving Allendra behind. The little girl prayed they would never return, as Baaz had been sending her malevolent glares all week. She knew she had been detected.
As they anchored offshore and settled in for the night, a small vessel arrived at the break of dawn, carrying three individuals: two elves and a man shrouded in black robes. The black-robed figure alighted from the boat, and his dark eyes darted towards Allendra. His nose, hooked like a raven's beak, protruded from his wrinkled, pallid skin, while his scowl radiated an aura of foreboding. A medallion hung around his neck, and within its metal frame spun an obsidian orb that seemed to consume the surrounding light. Allendra shuddered, anticipating that his malevolence would penetrate her very soul. Her fears were confirmed when the man's rough, pungent hands grasped her chin.
"Was all this hoopla just for this little imp?" Bishop's throaty voice cawed.
"They're all dead, sir," Raaz replied, speaking the common tongue for the first time in front of others. "You can rest assured."
"Don't be too sure," Baaz interjected, earning a disapproving glare from Raaz.
"This was too easy. Our journey may soon turn into a perilous chase," Baaz added.
"Perhaps, perhaps not. We forge ahead. Time is scarce, and our destination is distant. Get the iron," the throaty man commanded.
The captain complied. "You heard him. Hoist the colors!" he bellowed at his crew, who quickly sprang into action. The ship's sails billowed with the wind as they set sail into obscurity.