Brian Pratt - The mists of sorrow

Surprised that he would have realized that Zyrn says, “Yes. It’s been growing about six feet a day.” He points to where two rows have a large gap in one area. “Though it isn’t consistent, some areas grow faster than others.”

Nodding, James assimilates that as he continues riding toward it. A hundred yards from the fringe, he brings them to a stop. Dismounting, he says to the others, “You stay here. I’m going to get a closer look.”

When Zyrn hears that he rushes to James’ side and says, “You cannot!” Taking hold of James by the arms he stares into his eyes, “This is nothing to trifle with.”

Jiron comes and disengages Zyrn from James. “Don’t worry,” he tells him, “we can take care of ourselves.” With James go Brother Willim and Jiron. Zyrn tries to go with them too but Scar and Potbelly stop him.

“What do you make of it?” asks Jiron.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “Kind of reminds me of the Blob.”

“The Blob?” Brother Willim asks.

“Sorry, it’s a story from my world about a gelatinous ooze that eats everything it comes into contact with,” he explains. “Of course the thing I never understood about it was, if its touch would dissolve metal, what kept it from just sinking into the ground?” He gives them a grin when he sees the lost looks on their faces. “But that wouldn’t make for a good story now would it?”

“Uh, I guess not,” agrees Brother Willim though not quite understanding what James is talking about.

Out within the shimmering gray there are several distinct lumps, though what they once were is no longer discernable. “Must be the people he said the grayness has already claimed,” he guesses.

“Must be,” agrees Brother Willim.

“Nobody do anything until I tell you to,” James tells them. They continue to advance until ten feet from the edge. Coming to a stop, James stares at the edge for a moment and can see it gradually advancing toward them. “It’s still growing,” he says.

Picking up a handful of sand, he throws it onto the shimmering mass. When the sand particles fall and hit the surface, nothing happens other than they gradually turn gray. To Jiron he says, “See if you can find me an insect or something. Make sure it’s alive.”

A minute later Jiron returns with a large beetle. Tossing it into the grayness, he watches as it hits the surface. It jerks twice then becomes still as it gradually turns gray just as the sand had. “Interesting,” he says.

“What are you doing?” asks Brother Willim.

“Just being systematical,” he explains. Next, he closes his eyes and summons the magic to try to get a better look.

Zyrn watches as the three men move toward the edge of the grayness. Held by two of them, he watches helplessly as the three men move closer. First the sand, then the beetle, the one man tests it to see what it will do. Then, he sees the ripple form across its surface, the same as had appeared when the priest summoned his magic.

“Get them out of there!” he cries out. Pulling against the grip of Scar and Potbelly, he yells, “It’s going to kill them!”

“Settle down!” Scar tells him.

Pointing to the ripples coursing toward the edge where James and the others stand, he yells “Look!”

That’s when Miko finally takes note of what it is he’s talking about. “James!” he cries out as he rushes forward.

As his senses move outward, he can feel…something. It’s nothing like he’s ever encountered before. Then, he hears a commotion from where the others are waiting. Keeping the power going, he glances back over to them. He sees a struggling Zyrn held between Scar and Potbelly. “Wonder what that’s about?” he asks, turning his attention to Jiron.

Shrugging, Jiron says, “Who knows?”

Then, he hears Miko yell, “James!” Glancing once again back to them, he sees Miko racing toward him and pointing wildly to the grayness. Looking back just as the grayness surges toward him, he reacts with reflexes honed over a year of magical fighting. Without thought, a barrier springs into being surrounding him, Jiron and Brother Willim.

“Asran’s Branch!” cries out Brother Willim as the grayness washes over the barrier and covers it completely.

“It’s coming in underneath!” exclaims Jiron.

Looking to the bottom edge of the barrier, James sees the ground beginning to turn gray. Adding a bottom section to the barrier, he soon has them completely encased within it.

“What’s going on?” asks Jiron. Gazing in apprehension at the gray, shimmering mass covering the barrier he stands there as a shiver runs through him.

“It’s trying to get in,” replies James.

“Can you hold it?” Jiron asks.

“Oh yes,” he replies. “As odd as it may sound, it’s hardly causing me any problems. It’s almost as if it isn’t even there.”

“How are we to get out of this?” Brother Willim asks. A green glow has sprung up around him after the onslaught of the grayness.

“Not sure to tell you the truth,” admits James. Staring at the solid mass of gray coating the barrier, he wonders just how they will get out of this.

When the gray mass surged over James, Jiron and Brother Willim, Miko came to a screeching halt and abruptly turned around and raced back to the others. The ‘tide’ of gray enveloped the barrier and continued on for another twenty feet before coming to a stop. Then, it began moving backward to the barrier. Ripples continue to form as more of the grayness seems to move toward where James and the others are trapped.

Aleya shoots an arrow at it but it simply embeds itself in the ground and has no effect on the grayness.

“Is one of them a mage of some sort?” asks Zyrn.

After Reilin translates Stig says, “Yes.”

“Thought so,” nods Zyrn. “It reacted the same way when a priest came to try to deal with it.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Shorty yells.

“How was I to know one of you was a mage?” Zyrn replies defensively.

“So how do we get them out?” asks Aleya, fear for Jiron in her eyes.

“I have no idea my dear,” replies Zyrn. “I would have thought they’d be dead by now.” Indeed, the gray covered barrier surprises him. Whoever is within there must be a mage of some power.

“Do you feel that?” asks Brother Willim.

“What?” questions James.

“It feels like sap running through a tree,” he replies.

James sends his senses out again and after several minutes begins to understand what the brother is talking about. Small traces of energy are surging through the grayness covering the barrier.

“What do you make of it?” Brother Willim asks him.

He concentrates on the surges for another minute before turning to Brother Willim and Jiron. “It isn’t magic,” he says. “If it were, I would feel it.” When he first saw the shimmering grayness, he thought that at first it might be a magical construct of some kind. But the familiar tingling that always comes with the workings of magic had been absent. “I think what you are feeling are electrical pulses,” he explains. “Not entirely sure about that but that’s what comes to mind.”

“Electrical?” asks Jiron.

“Yeah,” nods James. “Like lightning but on a much smaller scale.”

Jiron glances to Brother Willim for confirmation but he just shrugs.

Closing his eyes again, James once more sends forth his senses to try to figure this thing out.

The grayness outside the barrier is constant and unchanging. Like a carpet of somewhat transparent gray, it diffuses the light coming through. Jiron gazes at it and a shiver runs through him again.

“The pulses of electricity seem to be originating from one place,” James suddenly says, breaking the silence.