Fog

Matthias woke up to the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore. The whistled as a cold draft flowed through the small hut he called a home and he pulled the covers further up over himself. It was a half-moon the following day, which meant a lot of things for Matthias’ quiet life. 

The half-moon signified the middle of the month, and with it came market day in Ashenport. People would be travelling from all over Aedria just to get whatever goods merchants decided to bring over from the mainland. It had begun with just a simple market to the south of Aedria at the Valley of Trisove, a general meeting point at the heart of Aedria that lay in the clearing of the forest. Over time it became a bigger and bigger deal as the leaders heard of the success merchants got at the Half-Moon Market. 

It would still only happen once a month, so it made it the perfect opportunity for the more time-consuming crafts to actually make enough stock in order to make the journey to the Valley of Trisove worthwhile. Alchemists, glass makers, weaponsmiths, and jewellers found a common ground in trading goods instead of taking gold as payment, something that came from the citizens of Ashenport and their dislike of currency.

As soon as the mainland got wind of the Half-Moon Market, it wasn’t long before other kingdoms chose to take part too. But, the mainlanders being the way they were, didn’t want to travel to the Valley of Trisove. Apparently it was both ‘too dangerous’ and ‘too far’ for the mainlanders, so instead they decided that they should be allowed to do it in Ashenport instead. 

That didn’t work.

No one in Ashenport even entertained that idea, so when ships soon began to roll in with merchants from the mainland and their overpriced, shoddily made goods, it was a unanimous decision to not let a single one of them into the town. Obviously that didn’t go down well with any of the kings, but not a single one of them could convince the old High King to do so much as lift a finger to help them. 

But one usurper later and a whole lot of fighting left Aedria both defenceless and unable to make any decisions for themselves all because the High King decided that he wanted the resources of their land. Unfortunately he lacked the brains to figure out a way to force the Aedrians to let the mainlanders join in on their market, and the majority of merchant guilds continued their Half-Moon Market. 

But every year without fail saw a new fleet of mainland ships appear at the Ashenport docks and demand to join in on the market. Any other nation would’ve accepted defeat and found another way to trade, but the mainlanders weren’t the brightest, and they certainly weren’t willing to back down. 

The Half-Moon Market wasn’t the only thing Matthias had to prepare for.

His small shack was called Half-Moon Farm for a reason. The house was only big enough to fit his bed, a wardrobe and shelf that acted as a room divider, a few counters and a table. The open plan meant absolutely zero privacy, which wasn’t an issue as he lived alone. He liked the small dwelling, it meant he finally had a place of his own, not to mention he got to live down by the ocean and he didn’t have to deal with anything in the actual town. His only neighbours were the Dockmaster, an elderly woman who assured him that she wasn’t doing banned magic – not that he cared in the slightest – and an ex-Captain of a ship who had decided to take up life by the sea.

Half-Moon Farm got its name from the strange shit that seemed to grow from the earth every time there was a half moon. It wasn’t the worst thing to deal with, the upkeep only took a few hours to actually fix itself, but he could deal with it. It was just unfortunate that he had to deal with it all before the sun actually rose because of how busy his day would get from having to deal with all of the mainlanders that would start to show up. 

But today he got to rest a bit longer. The ships would soon start to show up with 

It was why Matthias was awake before the first light of day had even broken over the horizon. He’d have to get up soon, but his bed was so warm, and the air outside was so cold. Maybe if he just stayed for a few more minutes…

The dulled sound of knuckles rapping against his door was enough to wake him up once again. Matthias wasn’t sure how long he’d fallen back to sleep for, but the lack of sun streaming in through his window was enough to tell him that he wasn’t asleep for very long. 

He hadn’t even managed to pull his covers off by the time there was another series of knocks, but this time they were far more rapid, far more urgent. Matthias threw the covers off and jumped to his feet. The wooden floor felt like ice on his bare feet but he tried to ignore it in favour of grabbing his jacket as he made his way over to the door. 

He reached the door just in time for another set of knocks to pound on the flimsy wood. Matthias yanked the door open with a tad more force than necessary, and as he did a strong gust of wind hit him like a brick. Before he could even react to the sudden chill, the man who had been pounding on the door spoke up.

‘Get dressed and get ready for hell,’ the Dockmaster said.

‘What?’ Matthias asked. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I’ll explain when you’re dressed. Meet me at the cliff edge in five,’ he said before turning around and swiftly walking away. 

Matthias walked back inside and shut the door. He had no clue what any of it was about, but he knew better than to go against the Dockmaster’s instructions. So, he got dressed fast enough that he could ignore the chill in the air and slipped on his boots. There was no time for breakfast despite the growling in his stomach, so he bypassed the kitchen and headed straight for the door.

He still didn’t know what time it was, and the dull grey sky and fog coated waters made the task of knowing the time even more difficult. The heavy sea mist had slowly drifted onto land and coated everything in a thick blanket of fog, but it didn’t make too much of a difference for Matthias. Every building near the docks had small lanterns along a path to light the way towards the docks, each one in a different colour. Matthias’ were red, and the Dockmaster’s were blue. Another set led from the main path up to the lighthouse in the same bright pink that the lighthouse’s fire was. 

Matthias saw the Dockmaster waiting by the gate with a handheld lantern. He must’ve heard Matthias’ door shut, as he waved him over through the thick mist and set off down the path towards the cliffs. 

[to be continued]