FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The town of Crystal Lake, named after the massive body of water it threads the edge of, needs no protection. This is the natural conclusion most would come to the moment they arrive. It may not be prosperous, but it sustains itself well through the many docks and fisheries scattered throughout. It may be isolated, surrounded by trees and having nothing else but Crystal Lake for company, but its people look out for each other. A deep fog, ever present, hugs the town tightly as if wishing to shield them from harm. The citizens of Crystal Lake know this fog like most know the sun. They may not understand, and they may have ways to see through it when needed, but they can never rid themselves of it. Nor would they want to. To do so would be like shunning the embrace of a kind mother.

There was only one problem with the fog, but those living in Crystal Lake rarely saw it as a problem to begin with: it tended to inhibit tourism. Coming from the clear air of Garden City or Cosmopolis to a never-ending fog often scared away the weakest of visitors, and while the intense smog of Diamond City may seem familiar at first glance, one only had to breathe in a single time to feel the difference. Crystal Lake's fog entered the body carefully and with respect. Diamond City's smog invaded. Still, there were some who would brave the strange and mysterious town. Few minded; it was nice to talk to some new people now and then, most of them agreed, but visitors were just that. Visitors. They didn't belong there, and sooner or later, they'd have to decide between leaving or staying in Crystal Lake for good. Some were allowed to make that choice on their own. Others were not.

One such visitor was a man, middle-aged, who fidgeted with his hands nervously as he walked through the town. He'd arrived late the previous night and awoke early that morning to begin his search. At least, he thought it was morning; while visibility was much better now than when the town first welcomed him, the sun was still hidden by a thick blanket of fog that was also present when he arrived as if it, too, lived there. This made it difficult to see more than a few dozen feet in front of him at any moment, and he jumped whenever someone appeared out of the haze. Most were friendly enough, either smiling at him or at least nodding. Some did nothing, though no one seemed outwardly hostile.

The interiors of buildings, thankfully, seemed to be spared from the fog but still shared the comforting yet gloomy atmosphere of the rest of the town. All were made of wood and dimly lit, often by candles or lanterns rather than electric lights although they did seem to at least be present, even if they were usually off. The inn he was staying at offered breakfast, but he hoped to find somewhere more lively to eat. He appreciated the quiet, especially given the typical atmosphere of his home in Platinum Bay, but even he was starting to feel a little unnerved. Unfortunately, he found nothing of the sort and had no choice but to settle for a restaurant the innkeeper recommended, a small place called Foglight that sat right on the lake's boardwalk. He didn't expect much, but he had to admit that his breakfast of salmon on toast and a catfish omelette was quite refreshing, even more so with its shockingly low price.

"Sure is. When you don't need to rely on an outsider, things get a lot easier," the waiter said when he asked if his bill was correct.

"Ah. O-of course," he stuttered. "By the way, c-could you direct me? I'm looking for something, and I heard Crystal Lake was the place to search for it."

"And what would that be?"

"It's…personal."

"Can't help you if I don't know what you're looking for, friend," the waiter shrugged. "Still, if you need some guidance, you'll want Celica. Her place is around the edge of the lake to the left. One of the last shops before it all goes back to being forest. You'll know it when you see it."

The man nodded. "T-thank you. Um…who is Celica, if I may-"

But the waiter had already walked away.

After putting some money on the table, he left the restaurant and traveled through the fog in what he hoped was the direction of Celica's shop. Several times, his surprise at another person appearing from nowhere caused him to nearly stumble off the boardwalk and into the lake. It didn't look dirty, quite the opposite, but he didn't think highly of his chances if he went under at the moment.

As the waiter said, it wasn't hard to know which shop was Celica's. While it had a similar wooden exterior to every other building nearby, the fog seemed just slightly thicker around the shop as if trying to protect it. Stepping closer, he saw a small, worn-out sign:

Fortune Telling Services. Tarot, Crystal Ball, and Tea Leaves.

Shaking slightly, he entered.

If the other buildings were dim, Celica's shop was dark. There was just enough light from lanterns hung on the walls to make out the details of the room he was in, but only once his eyes adjusted. There was one door aside from the one he came in, and it was cozy, darkness aside, with a few chairs and a sofa like a small living room. He saw a coffee machine in the corner beside a small box of sugar packets, but after examining it, there didn't seem to be any coffee inside, and all of the sugar packets were strangely light and didn't make a sound when he rattled them. Leaving the coffee machine, he saw a few magazines on a table in front of the sofa, but it was beyond him how anyone was supposed to read them. Picking one up, he found it was covered in a thin layer of dust.

"Crystal Lake seems to be getting quite the number of visitors lately. What fortune may I provide you today?"

The man yelped, accidentally tossing the magazine into the air. It landed with a soft thump that seemed deafeningly loud in the otherwise silent room. The source of the voice that startled him was a woman, tall and wearing a long black cloak with a hood that hid her face. The only reason he even knew she was female was from her voice. She went over to the table, and, with her back turned to him, bent down to pick up the magazine.

"I'm s-s-so s-sorry," the man stuttered. "You just…you startled me."

"I apologize." Her voice was calm and soothing, but there was also power behind it. He could tell this was not a woman to underestimate. Maybe she really was a fortune teller.

"N-no, it's m-my fault. But yes, I…well, could you…help me?" he asked tentatively.

The woman, presumably Celica, set the magazine back on the table and faced him. Despite now being closer, he still couldn't see under her hood. "That's not for me to decide. Only you and the spirits know the answer to that question. Shall we ask them of your future?"

"Yes, please! Oh, but…how much does it cost-"

"Twenty dollars, plus an extra ten per hour."

The man paused, once again surprised at the low price. "Oh. If you're sure, then that's alright with me."

"If it would please you, I could charge more," she said.

"N-no, no. That's alright, twenty is fine."

"Plus ten per hour," she reminded him.

"I don't think it'll take that long, but I understand."

She raised her arm out of the cloak and pointed to the door. He hesitantly went through and avoided making eye contact with her as he passed. He couldn't see her, and her arm had already retreated back inside her cloak by the time he approached, but he wasn't sure he wanted to. He didn't know what he'd find if he did.

The next room, just barely lit enough to see the outline of a table in the darkness, also had a single door other than the entrance but was even smaller than the previous. Once closer, he saw just two chairs around the table, small and circular, that had a perfect orb of glass about the size of a soccer ball atop it on a pedestal. He looked into it and could just barely see his reflection staring back at him with wide eyes. Celica sat opposite him and looked into the crystal ball as well.

"Spirits of Crystal Lake, I call upon you now," she said mystically.

He waited for something in the sphere to change, but it looked exactly the same as it did when he first sat down. He strained his eyes, trying to catch a flicker of movement within but only saw a man wearing a pained expression.

"…is something supposed to-" he started.

She quickly raised a hand without looking up from the crystal ball, her index finger extended. "Ssh. I'm communicating with the spirits."

He nodded quickly and went silent.

"Hmm…yes…" she breathed. "I see…the spirits answer my call…! They tell me of you, traveler. Your name is Mike Slinger, is it not?"

The man gasped. "Oh! Uh, y-yes! It is! How did you-"

"The spirits told me. Were you not paying attention?" she asked.

"Oh…okay. I'm sorry."

She cleared her throat and went on. "The reason for your presence is shrouded in fog thicker than that which surrounds this mystic lake, yet I sense you are here for a grand purpose. Yes, your fate will be changed forever in this town. But be warned! That which you seek may not be which you truly desire!"

"But how do I find it in the first place?" he asked.

"What is it you believe you will find?" Celica replied.

"I…I can't say. It's very personal. The spirits should know, shouldn't they? That's why I came to you."

She paused for a moment. "The spirits do know. They do not reveal to me what you seek, but they have said this: you will not find it here. Return to where you came from, and there you will find what gives your life purpose."

"Return home? But I was told that I must come to Crystal Lake!" he frowned.

"What lurks in the night longs to be revealed. What lurks in the fog fears it. It is in our best interest to remember that." She went silent and still for an uncomfortably long time. "…the spirits have spoken, and now they grow silent. I have passed on their message. The only advice I can give now is to heed them. Do with this information what you will."

"Are there any other kinds of divination you could try? Tarot, tea leaves, anything! Please, I must know where to look!" he begged.

Celica shook her head. "I can offer you no more than what the spirits provide, and they have long since departed. Now…payment, if you please."

He blinked, then jumped slightly and dug in his pockets. He placed $20 on the table, muttered a word of thanks, and quickly left the shop.

After taking a walk around Crystal Lake, he returned to Foglight for lunch. He was almost sad that he wouldn't be living in Crystal Lake for long; the atmosphere was dreary, but the food was cheap, and though it was hardly anything fancy, it was so fresh and flavorful that this didn't matter. The almost eerie quiet of the restaurant was also starting to grow on him. It was nice to have a meal without a bunch of college kids causing problems a few feet away.

He'd just ordered a second serving when a thunderous crash from outside made him jump so far out of his seat he landed on the floor. None of the other patrons seemed remotely concerned, and only a few so much as looked up. The rest carried on talking as though it didn't happen. Even if they weren't concerned, though, he very much was and ran out of the restaurant to see what was going on.

Of all the things he expected to see during his lifetime, a tentacle lifting itself from the lake, massive enough to be seen clearly even through the thick fog, wasn't exactly on the list yet. He had just enough time to say, "What in the-" before someone rushed past him directly onto the lake. It was another unexpected sight: a woman, though not human and instead closer to a hyena with chestnut fur, skated off towards the tentacle as if on ice rather than water. She had long hair and wore a silver dress that flowed like mist, to say nothing of the actual mist trailing her, and didn't seem to be wearing any shoes.

"New to the whole superhero thing?" a nearby woman, this one fully human, chuckled. She watched the lake, sipping her coffee without a hint of concern.

"W-well, no…I'm from Platinum Bay, so…" he answered timidly.

"Oh, so you've got…what was that guy's name? Ebony Ram or something? Never been there, but I've heard there's always something weird going on when he's around," she said. She took another sip of her coffee. "Least you're used to animal-people, right?"

"I suppose."

The woman had vanished into the fog, but he could occasionally see the tentacle swipe or recoil. A few times, he thought he heard the sound of intense, rushing water followed by further crashes and an occasional low growl.

"So…who is she?" he asked.

"I don't know, things just show up sometimes. A tentacle's not that weird, honestly," the woman shrugged.

"N-no, I mean the…the person," he stuttered.

"Oh!" she gasped lightly. "Oh, right. Yeah, that's Madam Mist. Like I said, things just show up now and then. Including her. But she always deals with it, so we're not worried. See? She's already done."

There was another growl, and the tentacle flailed about for a moment. It crashed onto the water, creating a deafening roar like a cannon blast before vanishing from sight. Something else appeared in the fog, small at first but rapidly growing larger. He soon realized it wasn't growing, it was getting closer. Then, he realized what it was: a gargantuan wave screamed towards them, likely brought upon by the tentacle's collision with the lake. He threw his arms over his head and waited for a watery demise to take him.

"You can look, it's fine," the woman chuckled.

As much as he didn't want to, he peeked from behind his arms and saw the hyena woman floating just ahead on a bed of mist with her hand outstretched towards a wall of water. She gently moved her arm down and the wall obeyed, descending as if allowing itself to be guided back into the lake. Without a word, Madam Mist then shot off across the lake again and vanished into the fog.

"Where is she going? And where did the…tentacle, whatever that was, where did it-" he began.

The woman shrugged. "No idea for either. What she does to or with the stuff she gets rid of, no one knows. It just kind of vanishes. Not really our problem as long as it's gone, is it?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "You could always ask Celica if you need an answer. Or if you need an answer on anything else."

"I already saw her earlier," he mumbled.

"Oh, alright. Well, take care. Hopefully the next one will be a bit more interesting."

As she casually walked away, unbothered by the scene she'd just witnessed that would terrify any normal person, he sincerely hoped he'd find what he was looking for so he wouldn't have to see a next one.

_"_Madam Mist is quite something, isn't she?" said a calm but powerful voice. He nearly jumped into the lake from surprise and saw someone wearing a hooded cloak nearby, facing away from him and staring down the boardwalk. Unless Crystal Lake had an abundance of mystical women, he could only assume it was Celica.

"Y-yes, she is," he answered.

"The spirits told you to return home. Why have you not listened?" she asked.

He shook his head despite that the woman was facing the opposite direction and couldn't see him. "I can't leave. I know what I'm looking for is here, and if I can just find it, then I…"

"Then you…?" she pressed.

He looked away. "…never mind. I'm sorry. Anyway, I really need to get going."

When he turned back towards her, he paused and blinked a few times. Celica was gone, swallowed up by the thick fog. He was alone with the haze and the lake, calmly lapping at the boardwalk and no longer threatening to drown him, as his only company.

If nothing else, Crystal Lake wasn't at all what he expected.

---

He awoke that night with a start, not from a sound he heard with his ears but one he heard in his mind.

"Come…it is time…"

He immediately threw off his covers and threw on the first clothes he could find before leaving his room. It was dark, far more so than any night he experienced in Platinum Bay. The fog now seeped into the building, making it impossible to see more than a few inches in front of him even with the flashlight he'd brought that was designed specifically to cut through it. He figured he wouldn't need it, that the rumors about Crystal Lake were exaggerated. If anything, they were downplayed; especially now, the fog wrapped around everything it touched, almost protectively. Or was it trying to hide something that didn't want to be found, just as Celica said?

He took a step forward. His heart fell into his stomach, and then so did the rest of him. Unable to see the stairs, he tumbled down them with a crash loud enough to wake the entire town. Yet, even as he got up with a groan, he heard nothing. No one came to check on him. No one grumbled that he was disturbing their sleep. An unnerving silence was all that greeted him at the bottom. Maybe the fog was doing more than blocking sight. Whatever the case, he needed to hurry. Soon, he'd never have to deal with Crystal Lake and its fog ever again. He'd finally get what he'd longed for after so many years. The whisper in his heart that was planted when he was a child never left, not even for one moment. It was almost time for that whisper to become a scream. He shook with anticipation just thinking about it. His hands became sweaty, his throat tightened. It was here. He was here.

He left the inn. The darkness was thin compared to the enveloping fog, but they still worked together to ensure there was no sense of visibility. Even the lamps standing along the boardwalk were little more than faint beacons that only called out once he was already close. He almost walked straight into the lake several times, only stopping at the final moment because he was walking slowly enough to catch himself. He saw no others, but he couldn't expect to; none heard the whisper as strongly as he did. No one else would be out at this hour, searching for what hides in the fog. No one else deserved to find it.

He listened for the whisper to become louder and used that as his guide when his eyes failed him. It took him around the edge of town, and he caught the barest glimpse of Celica's shop on his left. He kept moving. She was of no help then, and she would be of no help now. Instead, he relied only on the voice growing stronger within him.

Keep going.

Turn left.

Go into the forest.

Continue along the edge.

Stop.

He did as he was told. The fog just barely revealed a cliff with a drop of a few stories into the lake below. The water, previously calm, began to churn almost expectantly. It sloshed back and forth, forming small waves and bubbles. Then, it parted. He'd found it, he already knew without seeing what arose from the lake. Or, at least, he was about to find it. He just had to take a few more steps…literally. Stairs of wet stone lurched from the lake and led him down past the surface of the water to a wooden door. As soon as he placed his hand on it, a stone slab covered the entrance and submerged him not in water, but in complete darkness. He was not alone, though; the fog was still with him, even down below. So was the whisper, now a fierce yell. He had to continue. It gave him no choice, and he wouldn't want a choice anyway.

His hand shaking more than it ever had in his life, he opened the door.

The room beyond was dark. The only illumination came from six dim torches, a set of three on the right and left walls, that made the shadows of the five others present flicker and dance. Four dressed in normal clothes were kneeling on the ground with their heads bowed in front of a large stone figure in the center of the room, two on its left and two on its right. The figure's shape was impossible to discern; looking at it was like attempting to see a shape obscured by a deep haze. It twisted and writhed, extending and contracting but whether uncomfortably or in pleasure, only it knew. The fifth person wore a hooded brown robe and stood in front of it while chanting, oblivious to the presence of another entering the room.

"Hidden in fog, seen with us. Hidden in fog, seen with us. Hidden in fog, seen with us."

Even without being told, he knew what to do. He knelt down in the free space in the middle of the others. The space carved out specifically for him since the beginning of his life. He bowed his head and repeated the chant in his mind.

Hidden in fog, seen with us.

The figure began to writhe more violently. Still chanting, the robed man took a knife with a crescent moon blade from his pocket. A single dot of fog hovered in the space above the curved metal. He gently raised the hand of each of them in turn, wetting the blade with their blood.

Hidden in fog, seen with us.

As one, the words began to spill out of their mouths. He didn't choose to do this, just as he didn't choose to be where he was. He needed to be, and he needed to say it. That was all that mattered.

"Hidden in fog, seen with us!"

The robed man cut his own hand, then lifted the knife into the air as if offering it. He swung the blood-covered blade across the statue. A low grumble permeated the air, mixing with their chants. Then, the grumble turned to a growl. Then, a roar. The six began to yell above the tremendous sound.

"HIDDEN IN THE FOG, SEEN WITH US!"

An invisible force started to push the fog in the room away. The statue in the middle twisted and writhed more fiercely than ever, then began to slow down. Its form gradually took shape as the roar became deafening, now drowning out the chants completely. It then became high-pitched. The six didn't react. They continued to chant.

The man smiled. He'd finally found what he'd been looking for all his life.

---

A scream followed by a thunderous crash pierced the gentle silence of Crystal Lake's serene night. A wall of water rose up, a momentary shield between the town and what had been ripped from the fog that quickly discarded itself. Another scream, even louder. Thrashing in all directions, sending waves and sprays of the lake in all directions. Its size was too great; the fog was unable to obscure it, even from a distance, and the few residents of Crystal Lake wandering the night looked upon it in shock for a moment before returning to their business. It would be over soon. It always was. Yet, even those brief glances felt like white-hot daggers. More thrashing. Another scream.

A figure dashed onto the water, trailed by silvery mist that was visible even within the dense fog. She leaped gracefully into the air as a wave came crashing towards her and landed back on the lake without so much as a ripple. Both her cape, sheer and delicate around her shoulders, and her dress, slim but flowing like water and as silver as the mist that followed her, fluttered lightly yet both stayed above the surface, not allowing even a thread to drop into the lake.

She raised her arm as she sped towards the being, and the water obeyed. Another wall of water formed to intercept a writhing appendage, almost like an arm.

"I'm sorry. I must know what I see in order to help you," said Madam Mist softly. Another leap into the air. She stayed in place, as if the fog itself was holding her. She looked down at the poor creature, a convulsing conglomeration of bone and sinew and pale white flesh. In response, it launched a tendril of bare muscle towards her with another scream. A graceful twirl was all it took to move out of the way, yet it wasn't satisfied. She was still there. She was still watching.

An agonized shriek called forth wisps from the lake, pale white and shimmering. Some were vaguely in the shape of humans, while others were animals and some had no distinct shape at all. They formed themselves into chains that threw themselves at Madam Mist and wrapped themselves around her arms and legs. They began to pull. She resisted, pulling back with all her might. Whispers floated into her ears. She closed her eyes and listened.

"Don't look…"

"Go away…"

"Help us, please…"

"We don't want this…"

"I don't know where I am anymore…"

"It hurts so much…"

"Very well. I offer you no judgment. Go in peace, now, and rest," she replied.

The mist trailing her flowed out and embraced the ghostly chains. They slowly broke apart and faded away, evaporating into the fog. The whispers faded with them. She cast her gaze back upon the creature. Pain, suffering, and memories. That's what it was, all it knew. She saw six pinpricks of light, echoes of those memories, within its revealed body. Six attachments to this world, six places to strike and end its misery.

"This will not be pleasant. I promise that it is necessary for you to heal," she said.

Her words were met with a shriek and a blast of water. She held out her hand, palm facing outward. The water curved around an invisible dome and returned to the lake.

Madam Mist frowned lightly. "So much suffering. You poor thing. Are you ready? The first is always the most painful."

The being gave no answer, or maybe it gave an answer only she could hear. Either way, she lowered herself back to the water and rushed forward, her hair and dress billowing behind her with perfect serenity. Another tendril, one of pure bone, attempted to stop her. She flipped herself into the air and swung her arm across the water, weaving a rope of mist that encircled it and tied it firmly to the lake. She landed on the snared tendril and propelled herself up with a continuous flow of water until she reached the first bundle of light located at the point it connected to one section of the creature's body. Now closer, she saw it resembled a human curled tightly into a ball.

"Be free," she said quietly, placing her hand on the flesh above the light. Silvery mist pulsed from her hand, and the light below pulsed with it, a morbid heartbeat about to be snuffed out for the sake of the being the heart infested.

The creature screamed. The light vanished.

"Five more. We'll be done soon," she said. She jumped to avoid a flailing arm and encased herself in a sphere of water as the hand attempted to close itself on her. It found itself unable to break through the barrier that gradually pushed it back until Madam Mist was safe to drop back to the lake.

Three more times she repeated the process, locating each source of light and removing the obstruction. Each time, she was thanked with shrieks and snaps of the tendrils, or with fierce bites and swipes from one of many hands. Each time she guided the attacks away before continuing. She'd just completed the fourth when the creature's head snapped towards her, eyes shaking in agony and terrible screams emitting from multiple fathomless holes. A thick beam of light, the same as the final parasite within it, burst from one of them and struck her. She was knocked far away, just as the wind was removed clear from her lungs. She struck the surface of the lake, and everything became muffled. The screams now sounded low and distant. No longer obscured by fog, she watched the dark, beautiful water around her. Beautiful, indeed, and peaceful. Just as the town itself was. Just as its people were. That, she was reminded, was also what she fought for. Not just the creature above that was suffering needlessly, but the people who had no desire to hurt it just as it had no desire to hurt them. Most living things could lash out in fear. They rarely do so out of malice, and terror is not the same as evil. Terror can be helped. Soothed.

That was why she was there.

A towering column of water rose from the lake, carrying Madam Mist with it. She gazed down at the creature again. There was only one speck of light left, directly on its head. By now it was shaking as it flailed. Its screams were growing fainter.

"They won't see you anymore. It's almost over," she promised.

A few of the being's eyes turned towards her. After staring at her for a moment, they slowly closed.

Madam Mist nodded and bowed her head. "Thank you. I'll make it as quick as possible."

And so she did. The column of water swiftly carried her over to the final patch of light, weaving elegantly to avoid any stray tendrils or further beams of light. Now within arm's length, she reached out her hand towards the creature's flesh.

The mist pulsed. The creature shrieked, and then became silent. Inside, the light faded away until only pale, rough flesh remained.

Her task done, Madam Mist allowed the water to return to its home and instead relied on the fog to gently guide her away. It held her high in the air, allowing her to see the entire being below.

"Your agony is at an end. You may return to your rest," she said gently, spreading her arms wide as if to offer a warm hug. The mist behind her expanded and covered the entire creature which remained still as it was enveloped. Once it was enshrouded in silver, Madam Mist closed her eyes and joined her mind with the mist. She felt every inch of the creature, its subtle shakes from the harrowing experience and the terror still covering it as much as her mist did, each tendril and arm and hand and eye, each bone and sinew, and smiled.

"Go. You are free."

Just as the ghostly chains evaporated, so too did the creature begin to fade into sparkling silver light that fused with the fog until there was nothing left, no trace that anything non-human had ever been there. The waters became still, and the air, once filled with screams, was almost louder now with its silence. The fog released her, and she gently glided back down to the water. She stepped onto its surface and waited. It was gone, she was sure, but the last thing she wanted was to leave any part of it behind to experience the pain of being perceived.

She saw nothing. She heard nothing but the gentle lapping of the lake. And so, Madam Mist finally allowed herself to relax. It was done.

Or, at least, her role in it was.

She returned to the boardwalk. Now familiar with the workings of Crystal Lake, none saw a need to stop and watch the incidents. They went about their days and nights as though nothing happened, and that suited her just fine. This was no different; even now, only one person, a woman carrying a cup of coffee, was there to greet her.

"Another one returned to the fog. It makes you wonder if there will ever be an end," she said. She drank some of her coffee and went silent for a few seconds as she gazed at the lake. "…I doubt it, though. Crystal Lake isn't that kind of place. Endings don't happen here."

"Nor do beginnings," Madam Mist replied.

The woman glanced at the six figures laying on the boardwalk. Two were young men, another was a woman of similar age, while one was a man of many more years and a woman of the same. The last one was the timid man who'd arrived in Crystal Lake barely a day prior. All were alive but unclothed and deeply unconscious. "I'm not sure about that. Some find a new beginning here. I wonder if they will."

"Even then, it won't be a true beginning. Only a reset. But that's for them alone to decide, especially after their experience," she said.

"Yeah. Can't be fun," the woman chuckled. "Really makes me glad I at least woke up with my clothes on."

"Your situation was quite different."

"Sure was. Do you want me to tell the police to come get them? It's not like they have family here to do it."

Madam Mist nodded. "That would be for the best. One or two, I could entrust them to the care of the citizens. Six may be too much for any one person to handle."

She heard a faint chime, like that of a small bell followed by a series of low whispers. Their words were impossible to discern, yet she knew exactly what they said. She'd heard them too many times by now to not understand perfectly.

"…it seems I'm needed elsewhere," she said.

The woman raised her coffee and smiled. "Another one so soon? Hopefully it doesn't end up like with these poor fools. Well, don't let me stop you. Thanks for everything, Madam Mist."

Rather than respond, Madam Mist turned and hopped back onto the lake. She skated over to the far left side of the town and gently lifted herself into the air and onto boardwalk. She looked at the nondescript shop with a sign that read: Fortune Telling Services. Tarot, Crystal Ball, and Tea Leaves. Rather than enter through the front door, she went around the back and entered that way. In the dark room containing little but a table and crystal ball, she exhaled deeply. The mist trailing behind moved to instead overtake her, completely obscuring her within it. When it dissipated into the fog, she was no longer wearing a silver dress and instead was shrouded in a deep black cloak and similarly black boots. She reached back and pulled the hood up, obscuring her face completely. She then stepped through the door into the shop's waiting room where a young boy, likely in his late teens, was standing with his arms nervously folded across his stomach. He jumped as she entered and held himself even tighter.

She smiled under her hood.

"Yet another visitor finds themselves in Crystal Lake. What fortune may I provide you today?"