Dawn
brought little change. The fog still enmeshed a silent world, a
world seemingly populated by Mist and himself.
The chill he felt came not from the fog. A coldness along his
spine, a prickling on the back of his neck, forewarned him.
Something there was, something evil and fearsome, close at hand!
"No!" Mist cried as she ran forward toward an object barely
visible. Demo reached out to stop her. His hand touched only
cold fog, and she was gone.
He followed her quickly, then stopped. The scream of utter
terror rose, ceased quickly. All was silent. For a moment he
closed his eyes. He knew full well he would see her no more.
Mist. A strange name. And yet a kind and gentle person. Now
gone. To fight the unseen companion to protect himself had been
his goal. No longer. Anger enveloped him. Mist was dead. The
Demon must die!
Demo gazed from side to side, trying to penetrate the white
barrier before his eyes. To no avail. Then, glancing down, he
noted footprints. Footprints not made by man!
Slowly, his eyes on the ground ahead of him, he followed the
trail. Where Mist had trodden he could not tell. She left no
trace of her passage.
Looming huge in the fog and early morning gloom, ahead an
object stood in his path. This was the creature she feared. The
one that surely had destroyed her!
It was coming slowly closer. Plainly it recognized his
presence. Smoothly he strung his bow, notched an arrow.
Demo waited quietly.
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