Like many of the more fantastical entities of LaConte, the stone giants attracted their fair share of ‘monster hunters’ and other curious adventurers, hungry for violence. Pitch attracted a steady stream of assassins from her still-vengeful stepmother. Thus, together they had accumulated a large amount of scavenged weaponry and used armor.

Before they set out, Pitch Black showed her guests to their cache in the back of the cave. “Each of you must choose at least one item for yourselves,” she said, gesturing towards the vast collection of slightly rusted metal. “I refuse to be a mere babysitter…If I’m going to travel with you, you must be prepared to pull your weight in battle.”

Lucy peered at the polearms. “I don’t know about all these b-blades…” she said. “I don’t really want to slice anybody. That’s why I like my frying pan.”

“We have clubs for that sort of thing,” Pitch replied, handing her a small mace. “And you, what do you prefer?”

“I…I don’t know. I don’t really like weapons,” said Dreadli. “I mean, not especially. I’ll use anything, I guess.”

“Well, for now, just carry this,” said Pitch, handing her an axe. “Get used to the extra weight. Perhaps I can make a proper recommendation later on.”

As soon as they had finished gathering weapons, Pitch said her goodbyes to her seven stone friends, and led the way down the side of the mountain. Lucy and Dreadli followed eagerly.

~~

Together, the trio traveled into the countryside, crossing meadows and farms and grand estates.

They didn’t run into many phantasms directly, but almost every night, as they rested under the stars, they could see their shadowy figures floating overhead, as if in migration.

On one such night, they noticed a bright spot on the northern horizon, which the phantoms seemed to be heading towards. It was an unnaturally solid and still spot of white, not like a cloud or a star, but like a blotch of paint that had accidentally been spilled on the canvas of the sky.

“I think that’s the fog,” Lucy mused. “The phantasms must be unwriting something over there…”

“Whatever it is, it must be putting up a fight,” said Pitch, stamping out the dying embers of the campfire. “I’ve never seen phantasms flock that way…”

“Do you think they need help…? Maybe we should go see if they’re okay,” said Dreadlilocks.

“It’s a bit out of our way, you know.”

“That’s fine. It’s not like we’re on a time limit. And maybe if we help them, they’ll want to come with us, too!”

Pitch sat down on her blanket. “…You’re not one of those people that tries to save everyone, are you?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. This is the first time I’ve been in a position to save people…” Dreadli laughed shyly. “But it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. I just think you should keep in mind that you can’t save everyone.”

“Did you l-learn that the hard way or something…?” Lucy asked expectantly.

“No, I did not. It’s just a fact of life.” Pitch turned onto her side. “Anyway, go to sleep, you two. If we intend to go into that fog tomorrow, we will need our rest.”