Koji ran. He soared over the ground, touching it only with a brief push of a foot then bounding off. His great strides were smooth enough for him to feel like he was barely held down by gravity at all. His long legs carried him down the dirt path as more of a ride than exercise. Deep within himself, he felt a thrill like no other.

He snorted like a bull, exhaling a large amount of used-up air before gulping in more. His loud, rhythmic breathing, mixed with the palpitating of his heart and pounds of his feet—that was the song of life. Koji was exhilarated, free, galloping in ecstasy. This running kept his body slim and his muscles strong. He could run for miles, hundreds of miles, forever, going on to the edge of everything. This unbridled joy that caused him to pick up the pace—that was true freedom.

Koji felt powerful as his feet struck the earth. They attacked with the serpentine speed of lightning; they boomed like resounding thunder. Under his simple white cotton shirt and dark blue shorts, Koji’s body worked itself. Underneath the weak, artificial covering of cloth, his body positively thrashed. His muscles contracted and rippled, his bones supported his leaping legs, his heart pulsed rapidly to push his blood—blood that felt like more than a life-essential liquid, but the embodiment of power and freedom and joy—coursing through his veins, while his lungs worked themselves to bring sweet oxygen into him and sponsor all of this mayhem.

The dirt path meandered about as if unsure where it were going, but Koji followed it confidently. Koji’s feet caused the ground to release churning dust that assaulted his nose and mouth. He picked up the pace but hit the ground even more lightly. High above him, the silver morning sky turned gold as the sun began to rise. The air warmed, and Koji felt sweat pool on his body. He slowed to a jog as he drew closer to his destination.

The bushes lining the path before him squirmed, and a small boy stumbled out. He set himself in the middle of the path, staring defiantly but with leaves sticking out of his hair. He had been trying to figure out whether to spring out of the bushes and surprise Koji, or to coolly emerge and step in the way. He seemed to have tried a combination of both. Koji slowed down gradually, as if he didn’t really care about stopping but did so anyway. When he was a few feet away from the youth, he stopped moving forward, but his feet kept jogging in place. He silently regarded the boy. Being twelve, he was two years younger than Koji, but was a full head shorter than his elder. His body seemed incredibly frail: all parts of his body were skinny close to emaciation. He cocked his head and grinned crookedly. From his mouth came two challenging words.

“Race ya.”

Immediately he was off running down the path at full speed, as if afraid to wait for a fair start. Koji followed him, sprinting. Koji prided himself on his running ability, but he was still unable to keep up with the little boy. Koji had incredible endurance that let him run for extremely long stretches, but his rival was fast. The boy was like ancient spot-cats: skinny creatures that could run faster than anything else, but tired after only a few moments. He had made a grave mistake. He had met Koji almost a mile from their destination.

Already, Koji could see him, a little doll in the distance, begin to slow. Koji, after running several miles already, was tired as well, but he could last one more. He began to draw near the opponent, smirking in sweet victory. Suddenly, the boy seemed to have a burst of energy, and kept his distance from Koji. For several more minutes they ran, Koji gaining no distance at all. Then the energy rush in the leader collapsed, and his pace slowed to a near jog. Koji, feeling less pressure for speed, took long, smooth strides—though they felt like glides. He reached the frail boy and, after putting a hand on his head like an old uncle and messing up his hair, took the lead. Koji could see the familiar sight of sprawling little buildings signaling they were near the end. Koji’s breaths became deeper as his muscles burned and screamed and ached. He had almost there, so he couldn’t give up.

Suddenly, his rival drew up beside him, gasping raggedly. He was nearly burned-out as well, but Koji refused to let him win. He urged his muscles to move faster, and, howling in agony, they did. He was ahead…he was winning…no, he was losing…winning…dying…

And he broke an invisible barrier as he passed the first building! Although he had won, he didn’t feel like it; he felt like he was falling apart. His legs, as though bewitched, refused to stop, even as they were dying with pain. He felt numb now, even from the horrible biting in his side. His legs carried him through the little huts, down to the heart of the Service, until he reached the stream, where they collapsed.

For several—minutes, was it? —Koji could only lie there, his eyes seeing a blur, his legs completely numb. His chest hurt, and even though he was breathing hard, he still felt like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. He hated these times fresh from a run, when he felt like he was about to die, which was preferable to laying there gasping and aching. Finally, when his body was more or less recovered, he rolled over and stared at the perfect water. He saw his reflection. Brown and tired, his intelligent eyes stared back at him, the color of syrup. Lightly straw-colored hair that normally sloped gently around his face was spiked with sweat. Koji stuck his head in the cold, crisp water, taking a great gulp. His head was just dangling there, but he felt shockingly lazy, and he didn’t want to pull it up. His lungs began to hurt again as they received no oxygen at all, and with a tremendous amount of will, Koji pulled his head out of the water and gulped in air. After another unknown amount of time lying there and doing nothing, not even thinking, Koji pulled himself to his feet. He would probably get a mission, which might be fun, although most assigned to him were tedious.

The mist appeared suddenly. It blinked into focus: tendrils snaking over the ground, embracing and obscuring the entire landscape. It was cold, very cold, like the breath of the Ice Queen. Koji shivered, rubbing his bare arms, wondering why he hadn’t seen it coming. And then he realized he wasn’t at The Service. He was somewhere else entirely.

His boot-clothed feet shifted, and as he looked down, Koji realized he was standing on many small rocks, mostly black, all jagged. He had just been standing on soft dirt…hadn’t he…?…yes, he was certain he had. And so what was this? As he looked over the horizon, Koji noticed the slope he was standing on declined considerably. There were the occasional lumps of hills (not as high as his current perch) in the distance, and then….nothing. A sea of mist, stretching forever.

He was confused, but there was one thing he was sure of: he hated this mist. It had a noxious feel about it, stale, almost, like stagnant swamp air, yet it was cold like air rising off a tundra. It was silvery in color, and thick like fog: thick enough to conceal everything, leaving only dim silhouettes that were guesses of the real objects. It was snaking into his skin and caused it to rise in small, chilled bumps, and he felt infected. It was hard to breathe, and had a faint metallic taste that lodged in his throat. It made him feel dirty, impure, and he remembered the one incident when he was young, when he had taken his sister Liri’s doll and thrown it into the pond…

I hate you! he screamed to the mist. This phrase might have been in his head, or it might have been verbal, muffled and instantly swallowed up by this devious mist, which was running along him like cool water, stroking him like a lover. I hate you! Leave me alone, you feree! Koji was mildly shocked at the extremely dirty word that had just crossed his mind. He normally steered clear entirely of things like that. This mist must have been worse than….than a feree…to provoke such an abomination from Koji, of all people. Yet at this intense hatred, it recoiled. The entire body, this sea of silver, gave a great shudder, and withdrew rapidly from him, back to whatever corner it had come from, swirling in a farewell gesture, then disintegrating.

And Koji was stand right back where he was in the Service, next to the running stream, the sunlight brighter than ever. What was that? A vision? A daydream? Something more? Just as Koji began to speculate that it wasn’t real and never was, his throat loosened. Without warning, he hunched over, and gray came spewing from his mouth. He stared at it, and a feeling of deep disgust settled in his stomach. The little sphere of mist tightened, and Koji felt distinct anger radiating from it. It was cresting and rolling and pulsing furiously, and then, without warning, it vanished, leaving no visible residue. Around him, people carried around walking as if everything was normal. Koji stared at the cloudless azure sky and blinding sun. He watched clouds roll in from behind the trees, churning in an angry tumult, parading in almost as rapidly as the mist had. Then, as if trying to prove the day could in fact become stranger, as if trying to cleanse the grounds of the wicked mist, the clouds released their rain.