The Secret Behind the Morning Fog

According to appearances, Ashford was a typical town. It was a small village in a valley, where everyone knew one another and life had a steady beat. However, Ashford had a strange quality: every morning, a dense, almost unnatural fog would sweep in from the river, engulfing the houses, covering the streets, and drowning out all sound. The town seemed like an other universe during those foggy hours, but it would vanish as soon as the sun rose high enough to burn it away.

The residents of the town tolerated the fog as a normal part of life for many years. Except for Eleanor Reeves, no one questioned it; some thought it was lovely, while others thought it was unsettling.

Eleanor was different from everyone else in Ashford. She saw wonder where others saw routine. The fog had twisted and curled around the streets like living tendrils, and she had wondered about it all through her childhood. At twenty-two, she had made the decision to find out the truth.

She set out one morning, well before dawn. The fog had already started to seep in, but the town was still asleep. Eleanor pulled her coat tighter about her body and headed for the river, which was thought to be the cause of the fog.

Like a silver mirror, the river's surface was smooth and serene. But as she approached, she became aware of an oddity. As she had always thought, the fog was not rising from the lake. It was coming in from the woods on the other side of the river. A shiver went through her body.

The townspeople seldom ever ventured into the dark and deep forest. Eleanor had never been particularly interested in superstition, yet legends told of ancient spirits and forgotten ruins buried beneath the old trees. She inhaled deeply before entering the forest, the fog encircling her like fingers and directing her.

The fog grew heavier as she descended farther. The crunch of leaves beneath her feet was swallowed, and the world became quiet. Eleanor quickly came to the realization that she was no longer totally certain of her course. Since she could not even see where she had come from, she had no choice but to turn around.

Then she noticed it.

A faint glimmer in the distance that grew brighter as she approached it. She had never seen light like this before; it was throbbing and gentle, changing from pastel blue to deep violet.

As Eleanor entered a tiny clearing, her breath stuck in her throat. An gigantic tree with silver bark and leaves that glistened with an unearthly light stood in the middle of it. And there was a stone archway at the base, half-buried in the roots.

Like a waterfall of mist, the fog was gushing out of the archway, filling the air, extending into the forest, and drifting in the direction of the town. Eleanor felt her heart race. It was the cause of the fog in the morning.

After a brief moment of hesitation, she moved closer, her fingers grazing the rough stone. The archway throbbed with light as she touched it, and then the fog rushed in, engulfing her completely.

The world twisted, and Eleanor gasped. Even the ground beneath her feet appeared to change and blur, as did the town and the forest. Then it was done, just as abruptly as it had started.

She found herself standing in a place that was completely unfamiliar yet familiar. The air shimmered as though it were charged with invisible electricity, and the sky was the color of molten gold. The leaves of towering trees, whose leaves glittered with the same silver tone as the tree she had just seen, reached high into the sky. The people moving through the mist surrounding her, however, were the most peculiar.

They were not human.

They were tall, lean creatures with marble-like skin and gently gleaming eyes. Some walked with a graceful ethereality, their feet scarcely touching the ground, while others had delicate, translucent wings.

One of them moved forward and looked directly at Eleanor.

The creature's voice echoed like a distant bell, "You have passed the veil." "Very few have before done so."

Eleanor forced herself to speak, swallowing. "Where am I, exactly?"

The creature cocked its head. This is the Ancients' domain. The mist connects your world with ours. The fog that appears every morning is the veil's breath, the area where our worlds collide.

Eleanor had a racing mind. There had always been more to the early fog than first appeared. It served as a conduit, a link between this unearthly location and her own world.

She questioned, "What happens if someone passes over?"

She was being researched. Few people have ever done that. Most people that enter do not come back.

Eleanor felt a chill of fear fall into her gut. "And if I want to return?"

The creature pointed to the fog churning beneath her. "You have a choice. But you might find it hard to forget once you know the reality.

Eleanor paused. She had never seen anything like the captivating world around her. But Ashford was her home, her universe.

She inhaled deeply before reentering the fog.

The universe twisted once more, and she found herself back in the forest, standing in front of the old tree, after the fog had passed. The archway remained, motionless and silent, as though nothing had occurred.

Eleanor returned to town as the sun climbed higher, erasing the last lingering strands of the morning mist. Now she was aware of the reality. The fog served as a bridge between worlds and was more than just weather.

And its secret was known only to her.