Fog drifted through the city, the lamps turned on as the city darkened this cast a murky glow though the streets. If the sun cast them away... Parcival walked faster. Even if they're still passed out will have to wake them. He turned another corner and the fog thickened floating high above the city's walls.

Some of the people who were left wandering about the streets went inside as he passed. Hopefully they'd stay safe inside. He slowed double-checking small landmarks and building signs. Yes, this is the way. It wouldn't do to go right past father's house. He yawned the heaviness of his eyelids and body made it a slog to keep going. Can't sleep not yet, not until everyone is safe. He picked up the pace a little.

This time of year fogs and mists came more often as winter approached; and Maxwell was in the holding hose, so he couldn't cast a spell like this. No, this had to be because of the change in seasons.

At father's house he greeted the dōshin, and took off his boots; the usual.

Mother greeted him and lead him the room Beeka and Opial were in. "They awoke an hour ago, I gave them a meal."

"Thank you." He smiled at her and put his stiff hand behind his back, it wouldn't do to worry her about it.

"I'll leave you to it, I need to go sharpen the weapons, the spirits left far too easily, if you ask me." She pulled out a small whetstone from inside her long sleeve. "Call me if you need me I'll be in the garden.

He took a step closer and shook his head. "There's a thick fog out there, please, stay inside."

She breathed though her nose and an eyebrow twitched. "I'll go into the backroom then."

He didn't like taking advantage of women having to obey their sons along with husbands here but, having them come along and... "Better she is angry at me and alive, then dead out there." Or worse cursed with a stone spell, if that's what this was?

Bringing his right arm up close to his face he turned it over and back again. A vein had a gray tint to it, when he pressed it felt hard under the skin. This kind of curse wasn't seen but very rarely, it was doubtful there were any prepared potions or tinctures in the store room or even a merchants warehouse, it just wasn't cost-effective to keep any.

Enough! Not going to solve the problem by thinking on it all day.

On sliding the screen open, Beeka sat in front of Opial who slept soundly, wrapped in a thick quilt. Both still had some injuries along with minor burses that dotted their arms, face and neck. That, and a fine gray dust that flaked off on several of their cuts.

"Beeka."

He still slept.

"Beeka!" His voice raised higher, enough to fill the room.

Beeka opened his eyes. "Just dozing."

"I healed both of us as much as I was able but, can do nothing for this Lapis Surma curse, I fear we don't have more than a day, maybe until tomorrow morning." Each movement of his legs and arms stiff as he struggled to sit on his knees. He pushed hard off the floor and went straight to standing. "Looks like I can't sit anymore."

Opial awoke, she blinked, rubbed her eyes and rolled over on her side. "You're no fun at all."

If he was smart he shouldn't say anything.

Beeka's lips thinned and his cheeks warmed a darker shade. "Saucy wench."

Parcival grumbled and leaned on the frame. "We do not have time for this, as we speak Merryn is heeding further away and or did you forget that?" He took a breath. "Night will fall earlier and what with the fog, it'd be impossible to see them if they came back. Along with whatever it was she could be doing." He studded both the curse wars building up near their injuries too. Part of him wanted to run from shop to shop looking for some cure, but it wouldn't do any good there'd be nothing that could help.

Opial stretched and stopped mid-stretch and rubbed her shoulders and arms, she winced. "How did she become my problem? Don't get me wrong, I'll still help, but the city takes priority."

He pushed off the frame, took out the scroll and handed it stiffly to her, with his left hand as the other refused to open. She unrolled it and read, her brows pinched together, and she sighed. "The ink on here smells green, did he just send this?"

"Yes, I had him draw it up this morning now you'll be able to leave the city."

Beeka leaned down far enough, so she could pull herself into a stand.

Behind, clacking footsteps, the clop of hoof and shouts sounded, -boorish commands from voices unknown. "Find him search the city!"

Beeka and Opial became still all at once, she gently rolled up the scroll and pushed high up her sleeve.

"More foreigners breaking in? This is an outrage!" Her voice cracked as it rose and then immediately lowered.

"Don't lose your senses, we need your head clear," Beeka whispered.

"With your head being clear already you have enough for the both of us." She smirked, her eyes a light to them, and she gave a half-suppressed giggle.

Beeka tossed a glare in her direction. "Be serious, they might be the Ftaltie raiders, again!"

Every bit of color drained from her face and her cheery expression flew away. "Don't say that."

"Most of their army is buried in the Shadow Forest, remember? Stop scarring her." Parcival shook his head as he slid the shoji a smidgen, squinted though, then he stilled. Nobody was near. "All clear."

They slipped back out, and near the entrance Mother handed him a short European style sword.

He bowed before taking it.

"Wish it was stronger steel, but it'll be several weeks before the master can forge you a new one."

He smiled at her. "You always seem to know what's needed."

She gave a weak chuckle. "Just experience, son nothing more." He bowed quickly to the others and hasted back inside. "Going to lock up now, make sure you knock twice if you need to come back." She said from behind the shoji. "Get a few more feet away."

They all backed several steps away.

Huge green and white dragon and wild cat images began to trace onto the shoji, walls windows and roof. They shrunk to the size of a pebble, six danced around another before a bight light burst from them and thousands more covered every inch of the house, they became even smaller encased in rings that shimmered. Mothers runes were always impressive. "The devil herself couldn't get in."

Opial and Beeka nodded.

The only reason they had managed to even hurt father was Mother couldn't prepare for what she didn't know was coming.

Further, near the end of the city near the harbor an expensive and absurdly large fog stone rested against the first dock, it lit the area and pushed away the fog. A wave of dōshin held back a long line of fishermen and assorted workers. A few other dōshin were leaned over inspecting a twitching mass of hair, guts, and offal.

"Stay back!"

One of the taller fisherman heaved the dōshin away and ran over to the mass, his body shook as he neared it. "Angel. My angel... that that thing killed my angel!" A dōshin came a little too close to him, and the fisherman swung an arm out sending him flying into the water.

Several jumped on him, held his arms back and pushed him face-first into the dock.

The dōshin in the water flailed about, splashing, before sinking under the water.

Opial ran down the dock, then held both hands out before her. "Levitate!"

The man rose out of the water a drenched mess and landed neatly on the dock. He shook as he bowed. "Th-ank you."

Another dock nearby a cloaked figure came out of a small shed, they walked quickly along it, and wrapped their cloak tightly around an arm.

Parcival tugged on Beeka's sleeve and jerked his head toward the other dock.

A dōshin spotted them. "Halt!"

Damn it he should haven't said anything.

The cloaked figure broke into a sprint and dashed to the end the hood of the cape started to fall back reveling part of his face.

Parcival tugged on Opial's sleeve and gestured toward him. "Stop him."

Opial began to cast another spell, but her hands stiffened and turned gray. She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. "It hurts!"

A dōshin near her moved away, his eyes widened a fraction. "Another plague?"

Some fisherman startled, stopped fighting the other dōshin, and dove off the docks.

The rest scattered heading back to the city main.

The cloaked man disappeared out of view, though an ally across the street. "Damn it."

The few dōshin left whispered among themselves, they kept looking at Opial.

He covered his cursed hand with the other, turned and walked quick out of the docks. Opial and Beeka did the same.

Opial adjusted her sleeve and covered her hand. She faced Beeka while walking. "Can't you heal this?"

His face and neck turned a hot red, a fat vein pulsed on his neck.

"Don't you think I tried first thing on waking? This is Merryn's fault. If she hadn't come here none of this would have happened! She brought them with her with her bad luck!" He took a hold of the prayer beads hanging on his neck and toned a soft prayer repeatedly as they walked.

It was hard to argue with that, but...

"I know it looks that way, but I don't think it's caused by bad luck this time." Luken tended not to give such an amount that people couldn't shake off unless they'd angered the god somehow. Now this was something else entirely...

Her aura had looked awfully odd. A thought came and went flitting away.

He headed toward the ally the cloaked man went through, there wasn't any sign of him, so followed a side street.

"Where would I go if I just killed someone?"

"Thinking out loud?"

He nodded, and motioned for quiet. By now he's long gone. It'll be dark in a few short hours.

"Can't see a thing in this fog! Ach!" Opial rubbed her hand and sucked a breath through her teeth.

"I was saving this for later, but I think you need it now." He took out a small ceramic jar, untied the string on the cloth cover and smeared the balm on her hand. "That should bring the pain down."

Her face softened. "I appreciate it." She flexed her fingers, they still were stiff but moved more than before.

The fog swirled as the went through the empty alley, he hastened on to the side street. Gone, empty, again no people walking about, oddly enough the docks were full of activity.

"Something doesn't add up."

"What do you mean?" Opial

They weaved back through an archway that led into the Merchant district. Yes, plenty of hiding places here.

As they rounded a corner, he bumped into a stone object. A sting in his toes soon followed. "Ugg."

He squinted at it and waved back the fog.

Slender stone fingers broke through followed by an arm and a finely detailed long sleeve.

A sharp intake of breath at his side. "I-I-didn't want to think about it. I couldn't. That's going to be us! We're all going to turn into that!" Opial stumbled over and leaned against the edge of a small house that poked out of the fog.

The woman turned statue, so young and sweet, turned sour by the unfortunate pull of fear etched in every line, the slack of her jaw, her large eyes made even more so from being opened as far as possible.

He looked away. Get a hold of yourself, one way or another an answer would show itself, and maybe a cure. A cure. If there was no cure by ordinary methods, then what?

Beeka reached over and lightly touched the statue. "I know her. She's the ink masters daughter, they don't live far from here."

Beeka dropped his arm to his side and bowed his head. "This can't stand..."

"I feel compelled to go through this district, keep pushing forward. Don't give up on me."

"What choice is there? Sit around and wait to die? I'll go down kicking first!"

Parcival smiled lightly. "We go. Figure this mess out and find Merryn!"

Beeka raised his shoulders, his eyes a glow with a fierce spark. "Less talking, more walking."