Heir of the Fog

CHAPTER FIVE

Test of the Unknown

The classes took the entire morning, and afterward, I found myself at loose ends. I offered to help Jharim, but he was also out of commission after the last Chainrunner run, and the next one was not scheduled for a few more months.

So I wandered.

It felt strange not to be overwhelmed by hunger during the day. The bread I ate in the morning truly made a difference, and I anticipated the soup later with an eagerness I had not known before. Also, no longer needing to sleep during daylight allowed me the chance to explore the district fully—or at least the parts where I was allowed.

Meris and her parents lived on the outskirts of District 98, in a compact residential block that leaned against the outer boundary of the ward. That was where I usually stayed, but as I looked toward the district's center, I saw how the buildings gradually rose in height. Even so, none of them matched the tallest structure by far: the Obelisk, the massive pillar maintaining our ward.

It stood as a colossal square column, dwarfing everything around it. Etched runes ran over its surface, flickering faintly, like fireflies trapped in stone. Some people said this glow was akin to the radiance that pierced the fog itself.

Most residents scoffed at the idea of a sun shining above the fog, but I had read stories describing one—a blazing orb in the sky, said to drive back the mist and bring warmth. Meris once teased me for believing such tales, calling it ridiculous to imagine a ball of fire hovering overhead. Yet the warmth I sometimes felt in my dreams convinced me there might be truth in those old accounts.

As I wandered past clusters of narrow buildings, I noticed people's faces when they looked at me.

District 98 was not large, only a few thousand inhabitants, so most everyone knew one another by sight. It still felt odd that they recognized me at once, especially since I had hidden myself during most daytime hours for four years.

I recalled the drawing the Chainrunners made of me when they searched for any surviving relatives in neighboring districts. They had circulated that sketch in their reports, shared widely to keep people informed of the news. The District Council encouraged such communication, even though it devoured precious paper. That was how everyone seemed to know who I was.

People like to be informed, and there is not much news besides what the Chainrunners discover in other districts, barely anything new happens at all, besides new deaths or new births.

Eventually, some passersby even halted mid-stride, staring at me as though my very presence might curse their day. That prickly sense of being unwelcome crawled over my skin.

"Maybe I should go back," I thought, unsettled by their reactions.

I did not believe they would beat me into another long sleep again. Yet those uneasy glances weighed on me, and I decided I had seen enough.

On my return toward the outskirts, I spotted the familiar haze of the fog in the distance. A memory of our classroom discussion floated through my mind.

"The fog feels anything it touches."

That line echoed in my thoughts, and I wondered again why it had not destroyed me when it had the chance. Acting on impulse, I turned around and headed in the fog's direction, determined to revisit it.

The district guard primarily watched for threats emerging from the fog, not for people trying to approach it. Fear kept most residents away, so it was surprisingly simple to slip past the guards if I timed it right, waiting for them to finish a round.

Patrols took a long time to return to the same spot, which made sneaking around the perimeter straightforward, even in broad daylight.

The closer I drew to the fog, the more the light around me seemed to dim. By the time I reached the boundary where the ward ended, I could scarcely see a few feet into the swirling gray. A chill wind blew from inside, rustling the patchy gray grass at my feet as though it, too, felt a shiver of anticipation.

I sat down near the fog, much as I had done before, letting the gauzy tendrils shift around me. My mind churned with half-formed doubts, but Elina's words echoed again: curiosity drove humankind to great heights, yet it brought risk as well. I knew that curiosity was the path to progress—at least, that was what she always said. The unknown may be dangerous, but I could not sleep without answers.

So, just like last time, I reached out. My hand slid into the fog. Tendrils of vapor curled around my fingers, as though this haze possessed a mind of its own. I could sense it noticing me in some strange, intangible way.

I retrieved the small notebook Elina had given me, safely stowed in the hand-stitched bag she made and I took out a pen. Just as she taught, I began writing:

Fog Experimentation Test 1

"Context of Experiment: Rumors say the fog is alive and tries to kill anything it touches."

Elina referred to this process as the 'scientific method,' once practiced by the ancients of Araksiun to analyze everything systematically to find real answers.

Test 1

Experiment: Touched the fog with bare hands.

Result: The fog reacted in an unusual way, and there was a sense of connection that cannot be described. However, no immediate harm was observed.

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I paused, tapping the pen lightly against the book. The fog had responded somehow, yet I could not define the feeling. It might have been a personal sensation. I remembered how the warmth of the sun in my dreams sometimes felt identical to what I experienced now.

By Elina's explanation, normal fog consisted of countless tiny droplets suspended in the air. This fog, though, radiated a warmth more akin to sunlight. It defied simple logic.

With that in mind, I added another note to my entry:

Consideration: The sense of connection felt when touching the fog might be related to the fog's properties and the personal experiences of the test subject.

I finished writing, then glanced at my hand, which was still partially immersed in the swirling gray. A quiet thrill ran through me. Despite the district's deep-seated fear of this haze, I could not shake the sense that it was… different. Possibly misunderstood. Even so, I knew the monsters lurking within were all too real.

My next test was to replicate what I had done that night: leaving my arm in the fog for a long stretch, exactly as before.

Once again, I weighed the risks, but Elina's words about curiosity echoed in my mind. I needed answers. Last time, nothing had happened, so I decided to go through with it in order to complete my experiments and find my answers.

I placed my entire left arm into the fog, just like before, and waited. Minutes dragged by, and still nothing happened. Each second, I felt as though it might be my last.

People always said the fog knew when someone was inside, and I sensed that too. The visibility was so limited that I could not see if anything might be creeping up on me. If a monster approached, there would be almost no time to react. The fog would understand that advantage as well.

However, I remembered how, on that night, the fog could have easily sent a monster to snatch my arm. I would have stood no chance of defending myself.

At least it was daytime now; maybe I could react for a second or two if something lunged at me. Even so, the fear gnawed at my thoughts.

I was not sure how long I stood there, maybe ten minutes, before I finally withdrew my arm.

Test 2

Experiment: Leaving the entire left arm in the fog for a significant amount of time.

Results: Fog reacted just as in the previous test, but nothing else occurred. No monster or any creature appeared, and no visible harm came to the subject.

So the fog did react to human presence, but it did not attack me by sending monsters. I could not explain why. I chose not to record any conclusion yet.

That day, I spent hours lurking around the district perimeter, watching the city guards patrol near the ward. They also posted sentries at the designated exits, although since there were no walls, any place can be used as an exit, just not an official one.

The guards appeared consistently terrified of touching the fog, so none of them dared to try. They stood at a cautious distance, eyes averted whenever the fog curled closer.

Over the following days, I continued attending class in the mornings and observing the guard in the afternoons. There was little else for me to do. Besides, my curiosity spurred me to see what might happen if a guard accidentally came into contact with the fog.

Elina had taught me that personal experience alone was not enough to draw a solid conclusion; experiments needed repeated tests and observations. But I could hardly ask a guard to risk their life by placing a hand in the fog. So I simply waited, convinced that sooner or later, someone would do it by mistake.

The guards patrolled right alongside the fog's boundary, keeping watchful eyes on its pale churn. They stationed themselves near the official exits. I assumed that, in time, something would force one of them to reach inside.

Or so I thought. Their fear proved too strong.

Weeks slipped by, and still I saw no one venture into the fog. Even on the few occasions when something slipped from a guard's pocket and landed just a few centimeters inside the fog, they merely sighed and left it there, treating it as lost forever.

Finally, two months later, when I was on the verge of giving up my observations, it happened at last.

One of the city guards, in the midst of a friendly scuffle with another guard—an impromptu contest, I guessed—lost his grip on his sword. It slipped free of his belt and clattered into the fog.

"Congratulations, you just lost your sword. Now the Captain's going to kick your ass," muttered the guard who had been on the losing end, spitting blood onto the ground from a split lip.

Weapons were expensive, and this particular sword looked decent. It lay only a few meters inside the fog, half visible in the soft glow of nearby lamps.

The soldier stared at it, probably picturing the Captain's wrath if he returned without his blade. Then he darted his eyes around, checking who was watching.

Night had already fallen, but this corner of the district was lit by hanging lanterns on the nearest buildings and street lamps, so anyone around could clearly see the blade lying in the fog. The guard squinted, making sure nobody was watching.

I was there, of course, perched on a darkened rooftop after sneaking up a rickety ladder in a back alley, quietly observing everything. He did not notice me.

Without further hesitation, he lunged into the fog, grabbed his sword, and hurried back out. The entire process took no more than five seconds.

"Whoa, you're crazy!" exclaimed the guard who had been losing the fight. "The Captain is going to have your head for this."

The guard who retrieved his sword cast him a warning glare. "That's why nobody here is going to talk about this, got it?"

They nodded in uneasy agreement.

He looked unharmed, even after stepping inside. I was just about to jot down my thoughts in my notebook when, half a minute later, a monster emerged.

It appeared as a bipedal creature, roughly half the height of an adult, with claws as long as its hands. Standing on the very edge of the fog, it glowered at the guards as if challenging them to try their luck again.

They stared at it with revulsion, yet not one of them dared approach. The creature lingered only a few seconds longer, then melted back into the swirling haze.

A spike of fear rippled through me. The monsters did indeed respond when someone entered the fog. I quickly scribbled a summary of what I had witnessed:

Conclusion: The fog reacts to people entering it, and the monsters become aware of those inside. However, subject one (myself) was not attacked after prolonged contact, whereas subject two (the District Guard) was apparently about to be attacked after only a few seconds inside.

I still could not fully grasp the implication. Why had no monsters come for me when I touched the fog? Was it because I never fully stepped inside?

Attempting to go deeper might be the logical next step, but the very idea made me shake. I wanted no part of that monster I had just seen. So I dropped the experiment the following day, though my curiosity continued to nag at me.

I considered asking Elina for her opinion, but I imagined her horrified reaction if she learned I had tested the fog so recklessly. In the end, I decided it was better to say nothing at all.