“What the…”

The sky suddenly turned dark, the sounds of life all coming to a halt. There wasn’t any wind or rain, the vegetation still as it was (albeit with a little gloom), the ebb and flow of the tides not even strengthening by a bit. It was only the sudden onset of a night-like darkness, the humidity of a fog rapidly encapsulating the entire island.

“Hey, what’s happening?” Ulin called, her hand instinctively resting against a tree as she slowly turned and walked to the direction of the main campfire. She saw Rhu was cooking, but the others were nowhere to be seen yet.

Rhu continued stirring the broth in the pot, ignoring Ulin’s call. As the unofficial guardian of the campfire, he was the only one who didn’t set out this morning in yet another search expedition for Istha. At this point in time, he assumed, it should’ve been late afternoon and the others were making their way back. His job was merely to sit and prepare a good meal for their tired bodies.

“Unresponsive as always,” Ulin murmured to herself as she made her way back slowly. Her eyes, adaptive to changes of light, were already beginning to adjust, the luminescent plants guiding her way. It was nowhere near to the power and might of the Elyfesta, of course, but it was good enough. Gradually, she could make out the silhouettes of several others, all hurrying towards the shelter of the campfire. Some struggled more than others, tripping on branches and slipping on leaves, but soon, they successfully returned, each welcomed with a simple nod from Rhu and a bowl of hot broth.

“This isn’t even the time for a solar eclipse or anything close to it,” Nal muttered before taking a sip from his owl.

“A solar what?” Luri asked.

“Thought you would know,” Nal said. “A solar eclipse is—”

“No need for the fountain of facts right now,” Tamarkrh interrupted. “More importantly, we need to figure out what is happening to the sky.”

“And how Deilsa is going to return in this darkness,” Kaius added. “She’s out at sea, isn’t she? With all this fog and darkness, she will have a difficult time navigating back to the coast. I’ll go grab a torch and place it closer to the coast..”

“No, stay here for now,” Tamarkrh sternly ordered. “It’s our first priority to have as many people around our brightest source of light, and I’m very sure—”

Before Tamarkrh even finished his sentence, Kaius had already left, grabbing an already burning torch from the entrance of one of the tents before departing for the shore. Soon, he disappeared into the fog, the light fading away with him.

“And I thought cartographers were supposed to be more level-headed,” Tamarkrh grumbled. “This situation is making all of us lose our calmness, isn’t it?”

“A lot of things did happen,” Nal said. “This island is quite the peculiar one. From the inability to use magic as stated by Istha, then her disappearance, and now whatever this situation may be…”

“I also found that our body regenerates quite slowly on this island,” Luri added.

“How do you know that?” Tamarkrh asked.

“I had a small cut during the first day on this island,” Luri explained. “It wasn’t much, just a mishap when I brushed against a thorn. However, even after these few days, the wound didn’t heal and remained in its original state. There wasn’t an infection or anything. That I can check very easily. It just didn’t get any better.”

“Now that you mention it, I do have some blisters from all that wood cutting and carrying that haven’t healed yet,” Ulin said as she showed her hands. “It doesn’t hurt much, I’m used to that, but it’s strange how they just don’t get any better over time. What’s worse, though, is the indigestion I feel I’m having.”

“Well, that happened to all of us. Might just be the food,” Tamarkrh said, ignoring Rhu’s glare.

“The food is sanitary,” Luri refuted. “We shouldn’t be having these symptoms with the level of hygiene that I insist upon.”

“I posit that it may have something to do with the inability to do magic,” Nal suggested. “I do know that magic utilizes the energy flow that’s all around us, concentrating it to something visible and tangible before using it for some practical purpose. In alchemy, sometimes, we hire a mage to insert a certain quantity and form of energy as an ingredient in our solutions. In its raw form, however, energy is just like fuel to a torch: it gives us the ability to work, to eat, to digest, and I think, to grow and heal ourselves as well. You could say energy is the thing that powers organic life.”

“You’re saying there might be a lack of energy flow on this island?” Luri asked. “As in… There shouldn’t be life here?”

“Well… That is what I am thinking, but all this vegetation is telling otherwise.”

“There might also be the possibility that this is just a temporary situation exclusive to this island,” Tamarkrh said. “At this point, our priority should still be to find Istha. The darkness isn’t a matter so threatening or pressing, but the disappearance of one of us is.”

“I’ll go tomorrow while all of you figure out what’s going on with this island,” Ulin proposed. “I know my way better than all of you in the woods, not to mention tracking prey is my specialty, not to say Istha is prey.”

“Are you sure?”

“As I said, I know what I’m doing.”

Kaius suddenly appeared before everyone, carrying Deilsa on his back, the latter thoroughly shaken from the abrupt change in atmosphere. The torch was already extinguished despite the rag on it still relatively intact and damp with oil. The two, in fact, looked to be several years older over the span of several moments. As soon as Deilsa was passed to Ulin, Kaius promptly sat down, huddling dangerously close to the campfire. His skin was surprisingly cold, his breathing ragged, his hair messy, but his clothes were perfectly dry. Deilsa was barely even breathing, her near-freezing fingers begging for Ulin to embrace her and warm her.

“What… happened to you two?” Luri looked at them in shock. She took their pulses, but they seemed to be normal. Their bodies seemed to be producing good heat, but their limbs were almost like sticks of ice. As she hovered her hands over their mouths, she felt an unnatural warmth from their breaths, like someone having an intense fever, yet neither of them were sweating. It was all quite… peculiar.

“S-S-So c-cold…” Kaius managed to utter, a far cry from his stubborn toughness earlier. “W-Water… Gr-round… C-Cold…” Deilsa couldn’t even talk, instead burying herself deeply in Ulin’s warmth. The two experienced adventurers, struck by an illness Luri couldn’t decipher, a peculiarity so frightening and unfamiliar to them all.

“Ulin,” Tamarkrh said sternly. “Do not search for Istha tomorrow.” His hands were clasped together, his head resting on them as his eyes stared off into empty space. There was a sense of lostness in his thoughts, the same confusion they all shared.

Ulin didn’t even respond or refute. She only held Deilsa tightly, comforting her with soft mumbles in her ear.

Was it the darkness? Was it the exaggeration of their worries, their fears? Was it merely a physical response to the sudden change in environment?

A gust of wind. The campfire roared, even slightly burning Kaius’ skin, but as quickly as it scorched the air in its fury, it died. The other torches, too, were whiffed out. Even the luminescent plants hid away, their light fading away to nothingness. Only the ship, anchored off to the distance, remained their source of light, a lone beacon out at sea, so far away from their reach.

They could no longer see each other.

“Hey!” Ulin shouted, but no answer. She heard, though, the muffled cries of someone that seemed to be just near her, yet she could barely make sense of what they were saying. The fog, permeating amongst them, was becoming thicker by the moment, suffocating even, blocking their senses.

“Anyone?” Luri called.

“Everyone, say something!” Tamarkrh bellowed, yet his voice reached nowhere. They were all so close, but it felt as if each was on their own separate island.

They quickly realized the fog, whatever it was made of, was capable of muffling their sounds as well.

They were afraid.

A hand tapped Ulin’s throat. She jolted, but found a mouth pressed against her ear.

“Leave. Now.” It was an unfamiliar voice, but somehow, the touch of the figure was one that she recognized from all that receiving of food these past few days.

“Rhu?” she realized. He talks?

Slowly, she felt her hands being raised up and placed on someone else’s shoulder, likely Luri’s. Behind, Deilsa’s arms wrapped around her neck, her body barely able to walk. Through the vibrations in their bodies, Ulin felt Luri was mumbling something, but then, she felt it. The same numb coldness from her fingers and her toes, spreading to her arms and legs, burning from contacting Luri’s warm shoulders.

“Walk.” At Rhu’s whisper, she took a step forward, then two, then three. They were marching at a terrible pace, almost like old men and women dragging their feet, supporting their slouching backs. However, she felt a sense of comfort being able to touch someone, fully trusting in their steps and following them.

One by one, they stepped onto the boat, their hands not for a moment leaving the person in front. Ulin heard the grunting of two oars, pushing them away from the coast. They had left everything behind. Their camp was now deserted, the campfire just a pile of dead logs. The plans for an expedition to the tower, all reduced to nothing in the end.

The tower.

Somehow, through all the fog, Ulin saw a beam of red light from the tower, so powerful, so strong and firm. As the boat retreated further and further from the island, her rapidly draining body deciding to sleep, she dreamed that the island was completely barren, the trees and bushes that once stood there becoming rigid pillars of stone, their campside petrified and becoming immovable structures, never to be returned to their original state.

With all the remaining seven adventurers back on the ship, Rhu lifted the anchor from the seafloor as they embarked on the journey home. They would not return to this island for another decade.

And on top of the tower, a dark stone embedded itself in the chest of a statue, cracks gradually appearing on the organic sculpture.