Page 77 of Mountains of Mist and Magic

“Phillippe!” she exclaimed, moving towards him, her feet slipping on the deck as the heavy mist settled on the ground.

“I'm right here,” he replied, feeling for her in the absence of sight. Objects around them seemed to vanish in the opaque vapor but his fingers found hers and he pulled her close to him.

“What's happening?” Sion's voice echoed in the fog towards the center of the ship.

“It's the mist,” Triston answered, his voice coming from the same direction. Esmeralda could hear the fear in her brother's tone, and it instantly took her back to when she was a young child, waiting patiently for news of her parents and brother on that fateful journey. Days had passed with no news, before parts of their ship were found, washed up by the tide. It was another week before it had been confirmed that her parents had passed, but there had been no news of her brother.

But then, a miracle. Her brother had been found alive. Sick, badly dehydrated and malnourished, but alive.

She now understood exactly how much was being asked of her brother by making him repeat this trip.

“What do we do?” Esmeralda asked, frantically turning in every direction, hoping to see something.

But it was useless. The mist hung in the air, clinging to their clothes and hair. The droplets seemed to sparkle through the hazy moonlight, almost as if taunting them about the light that they couldn't see.

The ship slowly stopped moving, the waters standing still. Esmeralda could hear muffled voices and shuffling feet as the group moved about, their uncertainty palpable in the thick air.

Quiet. Not a sound to be heard. It was an absolute emptiness, and the vastness of the ocean around them and the stillness of the air and the inability to see started a panic within Esmeralda. Her heart started racing, beating so strongly that she feared something was wrong. Next came the moistness along her brow, and the spiraling fear that they'd never make it out of this and they would be stuck here, slowly starving to death. Or, perhaps they would sail into a giant reef, tearing up their boat and forcing them into the water, where they would drown and then be feasted on by bottom-dwelling sea creatures.

Esmeralda's breath caught in her throat, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. The mist choked her, swirling around her like a ghostly shroud, foretelling her own death. Frantic sobs mixed with gasps of air raked her body, and she crumbled in Phillippe's arms.

“Shhhhhhh...” he murmured, stroking her hair. “It's okay.”

But no amount of reassurance from him helped. Her breathing became more labored, and she trembled from head to toe.

“Help!” Phillippe called into the silver haze, horrified at the sight in front of him. “Something's wrong with Esmeralda!”

It was Agatha who appeared. Esmeralda could barely keep her in focus, her mind flitting to a million different horrifying outcomes of their situation.

“I don't know what's wrong with her,” he pleaded, looking at Agatha.

“It's a panic attack.”

“A what?”

Agatha sighed. “Honestly you're even denser than your pretty-boy brother. It's her body and mind working overtime.”

“Calm down, Esmeralda,” Phillippe urged, holding on to her shoulders.

Agatha cuffed him on the back of the head. “That's the worst thing you could say.”

“Help her,” he implored.

“Esmeralda, honey, I want you to close your eyes. Think of your bedroom at the Tidal Kingdom. What does it look like?”

It was an odd question, but Esmeralda's mind instantly pictured the room. “My bed is in a giant clamshell,” she whispered.

“Good. As you list off things, I want you to breathe in between.”

“It's high above the rest of the palace, like a crow's nest.” She breathed deeply, envisioning the room in her head. “And there's a window where I can see seabirds flying and soaring through the sky.”

“It's working,” Phillippe observed.

“Hush,” Agatha chided, focusing on Esmeralda as she repeated each detail that she could remember. Before she knew it, her shoulders had relaxed and she was breathing normally.

“Good girl,” Agatha said, gently patting her on the shoulder. “Phillippe, you stay right next to her. Don't you leave her side.”

“I'll never leave her,” he whispered, pulling her tightly against his chest, and this time, her rapid breathing wasn't due to her panic.

---