Weathered Scrap 429

"To whomever reads this,

They weren’t empty words.

I saw it myself. The mists do not cling as they once did in the Blackwood Grove. From the north ridge I watched the dark vapors pull back, like a tide reversed, revealing uneven ground no villager in Ragne swore had ever previously existed. I heard cries that the ancestors’ graves, the altar have been disturbed. Some of the elders have gone- or perhaps been taken with it

I write this not to agree nor to dispute the words carried down from the skies, but to add my own witness: shapes beyond my comprehension move in the space the fog has left behind. Not beasts. Not men. Too tall for either, and yet…

No. Too crooked to be gods.

If cloud sailors mean to land here, let them beware. What the mist kept hidden, it kept hidden for good reason."

-Unsigned