Whiteout (chapter 1)

A long, long time ago, when gods and monsters still walked the earth, the land was bright and lush. Rivers and lakes punctuated rolling green fields and snow-capped, purple mountains reached towards the stars. Wildflowers of every colour fawned in the breeze, nourished by golden sunlight. The beasts of the world lived in harmony and life was in balance. One day, new creatures appeared. They had no fur and walked on two legs. They cut down the majestic trees and hunted the most helpless animals. The gods were startled and begged them to stop. They bestowed upon them the knowledge to live and farm harmoniously so that the balance might return. And for many years, it did.

But the humans multiplied and spread. They covered the land and divided its beasts; harnessed some and hunted the rest. The animals turned to the gods for help, but they had retreated into the Heavens. The rivers, once alive and shimmering with shoals of silvery fish, now ran red with their blood. The forests fell silent where they had once been filled with the chatter and song of a million birds. The green fields and fertile pastures turned barren; trampled into mud by the hooves of domesticated beasts. And when the humans could find no more sport to hunt, they turned on their own kind. Wars raged across the entire world as the humans tore themselves to pieces. Women and children cried in terror and pain and bodies littered the land. When the gods could stand no more, they searched for a way to once again restore balance to the earth.

And so they sent the mist…

Part One: Origins

I

When Rhi awoke, darkness still shrouded the sky. From his bed beneath the window he could hear the early morning stirrings of his father’s sheep. Soon they would be jostling for their breakfast, their excited bleating signalling the start of another day. But not quite yet; he still had time.

Rhi rubbed his eyes and gently shook his head, sending his messy black curls bouncing against his face. With a final stretch he sat up, blinking as his eyes adjusted to take in what little light there was. The room was large but sparsely furnished. He could just make out a few dark lumps dotted around the room which he knew were the blanket-clad shapes of his parents and siblings. After pulling on his trousers, he tiptoed carefully towards the smallest form. His sister Calla was curled in the corner nearest the door. Five years younger than Rhi, she was the member of his family who physically resembled him the least. Her long auburn hair flowed straight, like a russet waterfall, around her slender shoulders; his thick, dark curls bounced around his head in an inexorable tangle. Her eyes were the deepest blue, whereas his were such a light grey they almost seemed white. And yet they were so alike in spirit that they might have been carved from the same stone. Rhi’s fingers only needed to lightly graze her head and she was awake. He smiled to himself to see that she was already dressed. Pressing a finger to his pursed lips, he willed her to be silent as they stole from the room.

Even if anyone else had been awake at that hour they would have easily missed the two small, dark figures as they slipped out of the little wooden hut and crept silently through the deserted streets. It was close to the beginning of the cold season, when leaves fell from their perches, plants and flowers shrivelled from the frost and the light seemed almost afraid to shine. As the periods of darkness stretched longer and longer, the people of the village stayed inside their homes, clinging to the warmth and glow of the fire. It was the time of year when the old stories were repeated, the next generation of children listening wide-eyed and eager to hear of more hopeful and long-forgotten times. Rhi had heard these stories often in his fifteen years. He knew the ways in which the first people had angered the gods and brought their wrath upon the world, demanding service and penance from generations to come. He knew the dread of the darkening days, the prayers said for the return of the light, and the rituals of thanks that came with the beginning of the warm season. But he also knew a growing discontent within himself, a belief that there must be more to life than the daily routines of a farmer. A need to search for whatever remained of the wider world.

The open fields that surrounded the village were inky black, and with no large structures to break the darkness, you could have been mistaken for believing your eyes were still closed. Rhi paused for a minute to get his bearings, listening for the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. By his side, Calla fidgeted. She blew on her fingers and rubbed her hands quickly over her rough woollen jumper, giving an exaggerated and impatient shiver.

            “This had better be worth it Rhi,” she teased him, “if the cold burns my fingers, I’m making you do all my chores.”

            “Trust me little sister,” he replied, “would I drag you out in the night for anything less than the spectacular? Believe me, after you see what I have to show you, you’ll be so amazed I’ll have you offering to clean out the sheep for a week!”

            She screwed up her face in a sign of disgust but the excitement in her eyes grew.

            “This way,” signalled Rhi and he took her hand. “Stay close, it’s easy to get lost in the darkness.”

            At the edge of the field was a low stone wall. Running his free hand along its ragged, mossy top, Rhi lead them away from the village. The darkness was beginning to lift and a faint silvery glow dashed the horizon behind them. It took Calla a few minutes to realise where they were headed. She pulled back suddenly.

            “What’s the matter?” Rhi asked, glancing over his shoulder. He followed her gaze and saw what had caused her trepidation.

            “Don’t worry, we’re not going close enough to get hurt. But we have to go a bit nearer…you’re not scared are you?”

            His sister shook her head defiantly and set her jaw.

            “No... It’s just, you know, we’ve all heard the stories.”

Rhi knew. The Elders loved to tell the children stories about the mist. How it was full of terrible creatures that would try and drag you into its clutches, and that if you breathed it in you would forget who you were. The worst one was how it would melt the skin from your bones if you let it touch you. And even though they were children’s stories, most people grew up retaining feelings of unease around it. And so people stayed well away. After all, nobody wanted to find out if one of the stories was true.

They kept moving. After a few more minutes Rhi tapped Calla’s shoulder and pointed towards the mist. Anyone seeing it for the first time could be mistaken for thinking they were looking at a solid wall. In the near darkness it seemed to glow, as if it had absorbed all the light from the day. The mist blended seamlessly into the sky; there really was no end to its reach.

Calla squinted in the half-light and tried to follow his finger’s aim. It took a few seconds, but then she saw it. A single tree rose out of the ground as if standing defiantly against an attacker. Its thick trunk showed that it had been making its defence for centuries. Sprawling branches twisted upwards, reaching towards the white barrier. At the top, she could just make out a narrow platform, like an eyrie nestled between the branches.

            “You want me to climb that?” Calla asked, her voice tinged with awe and amazement.

            “Uh huh,” her brother replied with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll race you!”

The branches were strong and held their weight easily. Rhi went ahead, finding the easiest path. Once his foot slipped, breaking through a rotten bough and sending it bouncing to the ground below, but he caught himself easily and indicated to Calla to take an alternative route. He had made this climb several times before, many of those in the low light of dawn. Dragging the planks up to make the platform had been challenging, but the resulting perch had made it all worthwhile. He reached out, grabbed its solid edge and swung himself up. There was just enough room for two people to sit - if they didn’t mind dangling their legs from its sides - although this was the first time Rhi had not made the climb alone. A few minutes later, his sister joined him. She was panting with the effort and sporting several bumps and scrapes. She flopped down onto the bare boards where Rhi was already sitting, calmly staring out across the misted fields.

            “Woah!” Calla’s jaw dropped in amazement. Rhi turned to her and grinned.

            “I told you it was worth it,” he said. “And just wait, in a minute it’s going to get even better.”

            Ahead of them lay a sea of bubbling, endless white. It rolled out across the land, perfectly flat, like a thick layer of wool. Nothing broke the surface. Above them, a thinner veil shrouded the night sky, obscuring the Heavens…or hiding the village from their view. The stillness was matched by the silence. Calla held her breath for fear of interrupting the tranquillity.

“It’s like the whole world is gone, and we’re the only two people left,” she exclaimed in breathy tones.

The slender glow over the horizon was spreading now, illuminating the hazy canopy above them. Behind its downy robe, the sun burst from its nightly slumber and suddenly everything was glowing with a golden splendour. The very mist itself seemed to radiate the light. What had once been a threatening white, now shimmered and glistened with unbridled warmth. Rhi had to shade his eyes against the glare and he heard Calla take a sharp breath and sigh another exclamation. Looking back over his shoulder he could just make out the wooden buildings that had previously made up her entire world. The shadows were fast withdrawing and he knew that soon everyone would be busy preparing for the new day. He straightened up and stretched his arms above his head.

            “Time to go back,” Rhi spoke sadly. “We want to get home before we’re missed.”

            Finding their way was quicker in the growing light. As they hurried across the field, Rhi could see lamps beginning to flicker in the nearest houses. When they reached the end of the wall, Calla paused briefly and looked back at the mist, no longer glowing golden but returned to its unearthly grey.

“It looked so beautiful…how can they say it’s so dangerous?”