NIMBUS AND THE KNIGHTS OF CENFERUM

Prologue

Monsters in the darkness...

The bells of the grand watchtower chimed across the city, awakening everyone within its walls, but not Hereni; he had not slept that night. On that day, he had a mission. As a soldier entrusted with protection, his duty had now shifted to fulfilling the last wish of a dying man. He was heading towards the Oath, the poorest part of the city.

It was a night of the full moon, and its brilliance illuminated the sky in all its splendor—beautiful, yet also conducive to hunts. It was the hunter's moon, and unfortunately, the city's population was the prey.

However, this luminosity did not penetrate the slum's streets, the closest area to the walls, with dwellings so close together that even a small cart couldn't pass through. This created a shadow between the houses, coupled with the toxic fog ahead, making the alleys resemble the interior of a frigid cavern. Only the sight of the starry sky overhead brought relief to the soldier's imagination. Other people were emerging from their homes, thanks to the tolling warning bells, and like Hereni, they covered their mouths with pieces of fabric due to the harmful effects of the poisonous mist on fragile human lungs. Many shouted in desperation to their relatives inside the huts when they encountered such thick fog. It was truly worrisome, something that had never been seen in that generation.

— Lieutenant? Mrs. Zeliudes? Are you there? — the soldier shouted as he approached the most beautiful house in the slum—a small palace with imposing white-washed stone walls, a lovely place, exceptionally well-maintained, but still a house nestled in a slum, squeezed between adjacent wooden shanties.

He heard hesitant footsteps coming from inside the house, footsteps of someone walking with difficulty, footsteps of senility.

— Quick, Mrs. Zeliudes, the biggest ether hangover of the last century is happening, it has covered the entire city, — the soldier urged.

When the door opened, an elderly lady emerged despite her unsteady steps, and her frailty was nowhere near the image she projected. Resilience, a consequence of a life of wars, was what the man saw as the lady walked supported by her cane.

— My God, people are melting out here, this fog is highly corrosive today, — she spoke, observing the hurried people leaving their homes. "What are you doing here, soldier? Do you think I can't leave the house alone?"

— No, ma'am... I mean, it's not like that, Lieutenant," the man stammered, attempting a salute. "Lieutenant Ancon sent me to escort you to the shelter.—

— That old fool, always trying to protect me, even after all these years. Does he think I can't take care of myself? — Zeliudes looked into the void with a silly smile as she mused. "Fool!" And, to the relief of the soldier, she finally covered her mouth and body with a scarf and a leather cloak.

Indeed, the ether hangover was frightening; a cloud covered everything, and the cold was relentless, bone-chilling. The acrid smell of the fog caused nausea; not even the soldier was enduring the poisoned mist, despite his entire body being covered by leather armor, specially prepared to withstand such situations. And there she was, an elderly lady in front of him, not looking the least bit uncomfortable in the situation. Her resilience was truly incredible.

— Let's go, Lieutenant. Ether is covering the whole city; the soldiers have opened the shelter doors and ordered the entire population to be taken there until the fog subsides.—

She said nothing, only assessing the fog around her. Seeing no reaction, he continued.

— Quick, ma'am, the ether is burning me, — the soldier pulled her, and the old lady looked at him with reproach.

— What do you think you're doing, soldier? — She freed herself from the man's hands and gave him a piercing look. — I don't need a soldier dragging me around; the next time you touch me, you'll spend a night in the brig, understood?

— Yes, ma'am, — the guard responded softly, standing at attention.

— I'm not hearing you, soldier.

— Yes, ma'am!" the soldier shouted at the top of his lungs, still at attention.

— Cursed, they don't make soldiers like they used to. Let's move on.

As the two walked briskly through the thick fog, a dreadful and very frightening roar echoed from within the entire white cloud, and both the elderly lady and the young soldier knew that sound very well—it was an ether monster, and they quickened their pace even more.

⸸ ⸸‌ ⸸‌