As they walked deeper into the swirling mist, Renkai's voice softened, weaving through the hush of the forest.
"Those watchers," he began, eyes scanning the shifting shadows, "are old souls, lost in this fogged realm."
Lira glanced sideways, curiosity flickering with unease.
"They once had bodies like yours and mine, but they wandered too far, lost their way in this endless grey. Slowly, their flesh faded away, leaving only essence… lingering, searching."
The watchers, faint and wavering, moved like whispers between the trees, neither fully here nor gone.
"Usually, they mean no harm," Renkai continued, "but they have a power, subtle, insidious. They can draw travelers in circles, weaving illusions until the living become like them. Trapped in a limbo, forever wandering, forgotten."
Lira's steps faltered, and instinctively, she moved closer to Renkai's side. The cold mist felt heavier here, the silence more profound.
"I don't want to be one of them," she murmured, voice barely audible.
Renkai glanced down at her with a gentle smile. "You won't. Not with me."
His hand brushed hers briefly, a grounding warmth amidst the chill of the forest.
At least, here with Renkai's steady presence, she felt the fragile thread of safety holding her fast.
They pressed on, each step swallowed by the mist curling thick at their feet. The silence was no longer empty, it had a presence, like breath held in the lungs of the forest.
Suddenly, Renkai froze mid-step, one arm reaching across Lira's path to stop her.
"Look," he whispered, his voice barely a ripple in the heavy air.
Through the haze ahead, pale figures began to emerge, one after another, gliding with eerie grace through the fog. They moved in rows, perfectly aligned, as if marching to music no living ear could hear. Lira's breath caught.
The ghostly travelers wore long, ceremonial garments, faded with time but still bearing hints of color and embroidery, like ancient royal tapestries dulled by centuries. Each one held a banner, tall and tattered, symbols drifting like smoke across the fabric.
At the heart of their solemn procession was a woman, ethereal, beautiful, dressed in what had once been a wedding gown of shimmering golds and silvers. The veil over her face fluttered gently, as if moved by a wind that didn't exist. Her hands clutched a bouquet of long-dead flowers, now no more than mist and memory.
The whole vision glowed with an otherworldly light, faint and bluish, and though the figures were barely more than silhouettes, the emotion clung to the scene like perfume, loss, longing, and something deeper still.
"They've been walking for a long time," Renkai murmured beside her, eyes distant. "This traveling company circles the forest endlessly. They chose the path into the fog… but it was the wrong one. They were once a wedding party, long ago."
He nodded toward the bride.
"She never met her bridegroom. The road they took swallowed them all. Yet still they walk. They remember what they were, but not where they were going."
Lira's skin prickled. She couldn't tear her eyes away. The whole scene looked like something from a dream, no, a memory of a dream, blurred at the edges yet sharp in its feeling.
For a long while, they stood in silence, watching the ghostly parade disappear once more into the mist, row by row, until even the shimmer of banners faded and nothing but fog remained.
As the last glimmers of the ghostly procession melted into the fog, Renkai quietly exhaled and gave Lira a nod. He began to walk again, careful with each step, as if not to disturb the memories lingering in the mist. Lira followed, keeping close, her thoughts still drifting in the wake of what they had just seen.
The forest seemed quieter now, the air heavier with meaning. Time passed in that strange way it did in the fog,neither fast nor slow, just… suspended. Then, as the trees thinned for a moment, something emerged in the near distance.
A cottage.
It looked similar to the one they'd found before, but this one stood more intact. Moss crept up its stone walls, and vines curled gently around the edges of the roof, but the structure was solid. A wooden door hung slightly askew but closed, and thin smoke drifted from a cracked chimney,though there was no smell of fire. Magic?
Renkai stepped forward, pushing the door open with the edge of his spear. The interior was dim but calm. Dust floated lazily in the still air. Inside, there was a pile of old straw in one corner, a long-forgotten hearth, and wooden beams that groaned softly as if welcoming them.
"We'll stay here tonight," Renkai said, voice low but certain. "I'll keep watch. You rest."
Lira nodded, the weight of the journey beginning to settle into her bones. Fluffy let out a soft yawn, tail wagging as he padded over to the straw. Lira followed, curling into the warm shape of the dog's side. She pulled her cloak around her shoulders, closed her eyes, and let her breath slow.
As sleep began to claim her, she heard the faintest sounds, the whisper of wind, a rustle of leaves, and the calm, steady presence of Renkai near the door. He stood silent, spear in hand, watching over them as the fog wrapped the cottage like a blanket.
Outside, the forest murmured. Not with words, but with something deeper, a hum of old stories, of souls still wandering, of unseen paths and roads not yet taken.
Lira drifted into sleep with Fluffy's soft breath warming her side and the hush of the fog-wrapped forest just beyond the cottage walls.
In her dream, the world felt brighter, like mist lit from within. She stood beneath the wide arms of a great tree, its leaves whispering in a wind that stirred her soul. And there she saw her again.
The woman.
Older, but unmistakably like herself. Her hair was longer, wilder, touched with silver light. Her hands moved gently through low grasses and blossoms, gathering herbs and flowers in a woven basket. Her face glowed with peace.
Then, laughter.
Lira turned, and her breath caught.
He was there.
Renkai.
But younger. Or perhaps just lighter. His eyes shone with something softer, unburdened. The tips of his ears peeked from his hair, moving slightly as he spoke, his voice warm, playful. He knelt near the woman, holding out a small flower like a gift, teasing her gently.
They were close. Not in distance alone, but in soul. That quiet connection that didn't need words.
The woman laughed, took the flower, and tucked it behind his ear. For a moment, time folded like petals around them. The forest, the light, the warmth, it all felt sacred. Familiar.
Lira's chest ached with a feeling she couldn't name.
Was it her?
Was it him?
Before she could step closer, the dream began to fade. The tree blurred, the laughter became echoes, and the warmth slipped from her fingers like water.
She opened her eyes.
Morning had not yet arrived, but the sky outside the cottage was pale, as if the fog were beginning to sigh. Fluffy was still asleep. Renkai sat at the doorway, his back straight, eyes watching the forest.
She feel back to sleep softly, knowing Renkai watches over them.
As the early light began to press gently through the fog, Lira stirred beneath the worn blanket of straw. Her eyes blinked open, still heavy with the warmth of the dream.
From the doorway, Renkai's voice came, low and calm.
"You dreamt."
Lira hesitated, then whispered softly, "Yes."
A pause, long enough to feel the silence between them.
"In dreams," Renkai said, "we see what we cannot when we are awake."
His words hung in the air like mist.
"Rest more," he added, not turning. "We shall soon move."
Lira closed her eyes again, not to sleep, but to hold the fading warmth of what she saw. The echo of the older woman's laughter, the way Renkai had looked at her, all of it still lingered in her chest like a secret.
As Lira settled for a few more moments of rest, the soft sounds of movement reached her ears. Renkai was shifting things around the cottage, careful, deliberate. Then came the faint scent of firewood, and something else… food?
She opened her eyes and sat up, the straw crackling beneath her. Renkai knelt by a small fire, tending to an old iron pot balanced over the flames. Something inside it was bubbling, filling the space with a comforting, earthy aroma.
Without looking at her, he spoke in his calm, serious tone.
"We eat, and then we go. Before other creatures begin to smell us."
She stood and brushed her dress, loosening the bits of straw clinging to the fabric. Renkai reached into his long sleeve and pulled out a small wooden bowl, filling it with the warm soup simmering in the pot, mushrooms, and something that resembled a crooked forest carrot.
Lira took it with a nod of thanks. The warmth seeped into her hands, then her chest, as she ate in silence.
Fluffy stretched with a soft yawn, sniffing at the scent of the soup. When it wasn't offered any, it padded over and nudged its head against Lira's pouch. With a small chuckle, she reached in and handed over a piece of dry jerky. Fluffy accepted it with great satisfaction, chewing slowly.
Renkai finished his own bowl in a few quiet spoonfuls. When they were done, he poured water over the fire, smothering it to smoke.
"It's time," he said simply.
And once more, they stepped into the waiting fog.