The Legend of Nazaré

A heavy fog had carpeted the entire valley all the way up to the vertiginous cliffs, rolling off of the rocky precipice and into the tumult of the Atlantic Ocean. It was a brisk autumn morning in the quaint village of Nazare, and this year the biting cold and gray of winter had descended upon the coast early. However, a strong and noble man like Dom Fuas could withstand a little cold and wind for the sake of a good hunt. Especially in his richly furred cape and overcoat, he thought. He quickly glanced back at his huntsmen and dogs, both shivering from the strong winds but most probably the excitement of the hunt. Dom Fuas gestured forwards, tapped his heels on the flank of his horse and ventured deeper into the fog. His objective was simple: catch and kill a mighty stag to add to his impressive collection. A fellow nobleman was due to make a visit in the coming weeks and Dom Fuas took every opportunity to showcase his exploits. It had been some time since his last military victory and he longed to return to the battlefield. The fog became thicker and enveloped Dom Fuas like a comforting blanket, directly provided by mother nature. It was only then that he realized the sound of grass being torn and a light thumping sound around the thickets to the east, about a few strides away he estimated. He slowly lifted his metal tipped spear, remaining as silent as possible, and aimed for the noise. The fog was so dense by then he could only rely on what he heard and hope his ears had not deceived him. Dom Fuas held his breath and listened for a last hint of where the beast might be. Suddenly, he heard a loud huff and a small puff of breath emanated from the fog right in front of him. Both hunter and prey were face to face but could not see each other. This is the perfect moment, he thought. He gripped the spear tightly and struck it down, letting out a war cry as the spear plunged into the cloudy mist. The creature bellowed and scrambled out of the way, fleeing as fast as possible. It was hurt but not down, yet. Dom Fuas always liked a good chase. He urged his horse into a gallop and sped straight towards the same direction.

It was only after a few minutes of intense chase that he realized he could no longer hear the wounded cries and hooves of the beast. He slowed to a halt and unmounted, giving his horse a break. Maybe he could find some tracks that would point him to the right direction, or set his dogs loose after the scent of its blood. But no one but him was in this part of the plain, he noticed. Had his huntsmen not seen him gallop away ? Had they been unable to follow ? Dom Fuas would have to do this himself then. He crouched down to inspect the muddy tracks the animal had left behind, but to his surprise he found none. Had he really heard it flee across the plain ? He was certain, it had been picking at the grass right in front of him. Perhaps it had changed course earlier on and disappeared deep into the fog. With a grunt of disappointment, Dom Fuas tugged at his horse’s bridle making his way towards what he guessed was the way back to his estate. The morning hunt was a disaster, utter defeat. His pride was hurt and everywhere he looked it was like the fog was taunting him. It had enveloped him and kept him hidden from his prey, but it had also allowed its swift retreat and confused the hunter’s senses. He gazed into the milky depths around him. He realized now that this thick white mist had been like a blindfold, incapacitating his vision, distorting sounds and isolating him. Dom Fuas had been warned of the heavy fog that sometimes settled for hours on the plains near the coast, but he had only seen it as an extra challenge to the hunt. Another element that would make the chase even more exciting. It seemed he had been too optimistic. He stopped after a few meters, not knowing in which direction to go next. A chill ran along his scalp as the wind swept across the grassy tufts. He stroked his hand along his horse’s neck warming them against the beast's soft auburn coat.

“Shhh”, he whispered, “we’re going home soon”, he assured the animal. As if reassuring his horse would calm the unease that had started surfacing in his mind. The horse pawed at the muddy ground and pulled away from its master. The bridle slipped out of Dom Fuas’ gloved hand as the horse began to trot away and into the thick fog. Without a second thought, he followed the beast.

A light saltiness filled the air and the fog began to slightly clear. This was it, he thought, the wind from the sea had finally begun clearing the cliff tops and he would soon be able to see his magnificent stone mansion nestled between green hills. He quickened his pace, almost running towards the clearing, leaving his horse behind him. What he found instead was not the usual breathtaking view of the hills and its quaint stone mansion, gray smoke sneaking out the chimney. He abruptly stopped, almost losing his balance and toppling into what Dom Fuas realized was the Atlantic Ocean, its waves licking at the sharp edged stone cliff. His feet were firmly planted into the last few centimeters of mud and rock, with the tip of his riding boots just overlooking the 300 meter drop. Still holding his breath, he attempted to back away from the overhang. But Dom Fuas couldn’t move. He was trapped between the now menacing fog creeping behind his back and the roaring ocean waiting impatiently for its next prey. He was paralyzed, his body frozen in place incapable of extricating itself from the danger ahead. As he glanced down, he noticed a frail beige silhouette resting in a strange distorted position between the massive rocks. He squinted and noticed his spear lodged into what looked like one of the silhouette’s legs. Perfect, all this effort only to find his prey out of reach. At least he had not missed his target, he reflected with pride. However, a question lingered in his mind, longer than he wished. Was he to share this creature’s fate ? No, this couldn’t be the end. He was a great general with many more years of battle left alongside his king. 

Finally, his body responded and turned around, only to find himself face to face with a bright white draped figure. Once again, Dom Fuas froze and gasped at the towering shape emitting a blinding white light. He fell to his knees and prayed for mercy. The draped figure observed him for a moment before bending towards him and reaching out with a cold misty hand pale as snow. Dom Fuas distinguished the delicate lines of its round face and peered into its soft welcoming dark eyes. It seemed like the figure was inviting him in an embrace, its arms outstretched towards him. Dom Fuas recognized the figure. Of course, why had he not made the connection sooner ! Our Lady had answered his prayer, she had come to guide him safely back to his estate and out of the malignant fog. He smiled, a single tear of relief escaping down his cheek. Dom Fuas stood and joined the Lady’s embrace. He no longer felt the biting cold. It now felt refreshing, like a light sea breeze on his forehead after an exerting ride. As he parted from the Lady’s comforting embrace, he noticed a smaller shadow hiding behind her cloak. It was a young child, barely old enough to stand, clinging onto the fabric. The child stared into his eyes for a moment before letting out a giggle. The Lady nudged the child encouragingly from behind her cloak. The infant began to wobble away from its mother, past Dom Fuas towards the ledge. Dom Fuas looked in horror as the child reached the overhang in seconds before its tiny bare foot stepped into emptiness. He jumped towards the child, and caught the plump pale body just as it was falling over. He looked into his arms to make sure the infant was not hurt, but they were empty. The child had disappeared, and so had the ledge.