In a somber home bottles of alcohol are strew about the floor. A mess of broken furniture, knickknacks, and daily amenities. Portraits of people not broken or on the floor, but upon a wall facing the front door. Dozens of them Pristine and well kept untouched by the homes messy surroundings. Rows upon rows of all sorts of people farmer, ferryman, or noble. They were all here all portrayed one by one on this wall forgotten and remembered at the same time. Another portrait different from the rest in the hands of a man laying face down on the cold wooden planks. His life as shattered as the portrait in his hands. His heart even more somber than his home.


    Rings under his eyes and an unkempt look to his face and clothes. He''d been staring diligently at this portrait all night. It depicted a young woman in her thirties; short ginger hair, a gentle face dotted with freckles, and the stature of a farmer. Next to her was himself exuding a delighted expression, but something was off. Between them was a boy, their boy? For as much as he scanned every inch of this portrait he couldn''t recognize the boy. A knock at the door. Another knock. Again, and again but with more urgency this time. The last jostling the man to his feet.


    "Who is it?" He spoke detachedly


    "I- I was told you could help me!"


    From the sound of it a kid. He opened the door. The sun burst through the door illuminating the kid, and his somber house. His eyes ill adjusted he raised his hand to his face blocking out what light he could.


    "What do you want?"


    "I''m heading for The Fog, and I was told you could take me there."


    The man took a deep breath, and As his eye adjusted he could see a kid in his teens maybe fifteen or sixteen he thought. Ginger hair, freckles and well built for a kid his age. He had what looked like a hunters attire. A hunting knife, backpack, a wide brim hat, and well maintained boots. The man had an agitated look on his face.


    "Your telling me you came prepared? Go back home this is no time for jokes."


    The kid was flustered, and then he remembered. He searched the pocket of his jacket and showed to the man a portrait. A portrait of the very boy himself. The man looked at the portrait and back at the boy intently. He stood up straight and looked at the boy in full.


    "My name is Thomas you are under my care and I will safety and soundly escort you to The Fog."


    Thomas gave a smile and slight bow to the boy. Despite Thomas reeking of alcohol and his initial impression of Thomas. The boy smiled back. He thought to himself. He was a genuine professional, and he''ll get me to where he need to be. To where he belongs The Fog. Preparations began the day of. The boy eager and Thomas dutifully preparing for the trip that was to come the next day. Two horses and a wagon to get them where they need to be. Rations, tools, and supplies for living out into the wilderness indefinitely. Not unlike how the boy arrived at Thomas''s door. Yet the trip was a short one. Only a couple days west on a straight path leading directly to The Fog. The supplies were for what comes after the boy has made it to The Fog. What comes after... Only the boy will know.


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    Peacefully along the trail they rode. A flat plain and scarcely a tree in sight. The sky was as clear as there destination. It was there second and final day on the trail, but Neither Thomas or the boys thoughts wandered past simply getting to The Fog. The boy only knew that he needed to go, and Thomas knew that he must get him there. But why? It had finally crossed the boys mind. He didn''t question that he needed to go there, but he still wondered... why?


    Nervously the boy spoke "Sir Thomas."


    Thomas glanced towards the boy "Sir? Your polite I like that, but you can just call me Thomas as I''m here to serve you not the other way around."


    Thomas gave a warm smile, and seeing this the boy relaxed. "Thomas then. Tell me what''s in The Fog?"


    "Your quite direct as well. What''s in the fog? I couldn''t tell you, but what I can tell you is that its important. For me and especially for you. We''ll be able to see it soon here."


    Thomas was right the boy felt a pull towards the fog like no other. He felt eager. A goal seen through to the end; like spotting a deer on his first hunt. Feeling the adrenaline fill his body and setting his sights in anticipation of what was to come. He wanted this; he needed this, and soon he''d have it. The boy had set his sights when he meet Thomas and was ready to pull the trigger. He was ready to enter The Fog.


    "You''re right I''m ready."


    Thomas could see the boys eyes fixate on the trail ahead. He was eager to catch the first glimpse of The Fog; Thomas was not. His hands white knuckled the horse harness. Holding a solemn face to mask his pain and anger. This was as uncommon for him as his stupor the night before he met the boy. The thought of The Fog had never roused him so, not for a long time. It taunted him with the thought of his wife with...


    "Thomas?"


    The boys eyes wide and intently on Thomas. He came to with a large breath in. The stiffness of his face and body finally gave way. He looked at the boy and relaxed, and gave him an assured grin. This was unbecoming of him he thought. He has a job to do and a client to comfort. These thoughts and feelings why must they surface themselves now.


    "Look up, you see that cloud on the horizon?"


    "Uh, yes"


    "That''s the fog we''ll be there soon."


    A cloud it did appear at first but as the boy looked closer it didn''t seem as smooth as a cloud appears. That silky flow that the clouds seemed to emanate from was lost in this cloud. It looked rough, a dark murky gray, and was as still as the stars in the night sky; everyone knew where the stars sat and could see them every night. So to did everyone know where The Fog sat in day and night as natural as the stars. The cloud growing as they rode closer and closer. Engulfing the sky until it was no longer a cloud, but a wall swallowing the horizons. The Fog dissipating as soon as its whimsical nature strayed to far from some unknown force holding it there.


    "Boy that portrait of yours can I have it?"


    "You''ve been so kind to me of course, but may I ask what for?"


    "Their keepsakes. Everyone carries a portrait of themselves just in case The Fog rolls into there minds and they find themselves at my doorstep."


    "Do you have one of your own?"


    This roused a small smile out from Thomas. "I do; two to be exact. One of myself and one with my wife and I."


    Thomas took to his coat pocket and procured two portraits handing them to the boy. "You''ll get to see my beautiful wife before your off, lucky you."


    The boys eyes became concerned. He could recognize his own portrait whereas Thomas could not. Its true he was looking at a portrait of Thomas and his wife, but their was a third in the portrait; the boy. lovingly sat on his mothers lap with his fathers hand atop his head. Thomas with a proud smile across his face and his mothers kind yet rugged look of affection towards the boy no her boy. freckles and ginger hair unmistakably the same as his own. A pit grew in the boys stomach then swelled throughout the boys body. He clenched the portrait of himself in his fist, but did well to restrain the portrait of the family he couldn''t remember.


    "Thomas... what happens if I don''t go into The Fog?"


    Thomas was surprised. What was this all of a sudden he thought? Only one other time has he experienced someone resist the urge to plunge into The Fog. A memory of his wife he has dwelled on for some time now came to the forefront of his thoughts. Thomas stood straight, faced the boy and with utmost respect answered.


    "You will die, and everyone will remember who you were. That is the fate of those who deny The Fog. The love of my life the woman you see in that picture did just that."


    Tears began to swell in Thomas''s eyes yet he kept his composure.


    "Despite remembering nothing of me or my love for her she stayed for my sake. For me she stayed by my side till the end so that I may have some closure. If ever there was a person to be hailed as the kindest and strongest. That would be my wife!"


    The more the boy heard the more it hurt; The Fog had pinned a nail in the hearts of them both and kept hammering away at it deeper and deeper.