As things heated up in and around the city, with swords being drawn, words exchanged as well as blows, a deathly silence rolled over the land, men shouted only to have their voices lost to the vacuum. Anger dissipated as fear began to spread, startled looks were darted about, none understanding what was taking place. Henry’s horse stamped and sidestepped, and as he turned in the saddle, he watched, awestruck, as a wall of fog descended on the city.

Henry yelled, “Get inside, inside now!” to no avail as sound did not come forth, even as people began to scatter, running for cover, pandemonium breaking out. In that moment, one thought resided in Henry’s mind. ”Cate…” Spurring his horse forward, he headed for the shop, just as the wall of fog washed over the town, obliterating everything from view.

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Catherine had just finished packing her money pouch and some food when she heard the sound of the crowd approaching closer. But then there was nothing but silence. Frowning, she slung her pack over her shoulder and opened the door, only to be enveloped by the mysterious fog.

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Zachariah was just dozing off as the sounds of the commotion outside reached his ears.  Rising, he righted his breaches, and moved to the window, just as the silence hit. Looking over at Hella, he spoke but no sound came out.  Baffled, he looked back out the window. All he saw was a complete white out as the fog rolled in.

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And as swiftly as it began, it ended. The fog lifted, yet, the town remained silent. It wasn’t for a lack of sound, more so a lack of people. Henry, his men, his followers. All those loyal to him, had vanished. The town of Nayaru was, by and large, a ghost town.

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