The Magic of the Mist

On a quiet morning, before dawn's first light, a young boy named Loto and his older brother, Hamuera, shuffle out of their home and head out into the darkness, following the path that leads through three miles of deep woods to the ocean. It is Saturday; they fish today. Their household is one of only a handful of residents on the small island of Fetuilelagi, and they have the task of providing their family with enough fish to last the week. They walk down the small trail that was worn by the feet of their ancestors, in silence. It is too early for conversation. Young Loto trails behind his brother on the path for no other reason than he has shorter legs at eleven than Hamuera does at seventeen.

Most of their journey passes uneventfully, but then, the young boy is suddenly pulled from his tired stupor when a glint of light flashes just outside of his vision. His eyes drift over to find the source and he sees something that couldn't possibly be. He blinks his eyes rapidly and then looks again; it seems to be coming from the small pond on his left. He's made the trip countless times but has never seen anything like this before. Not trusting his own eyes, he steps off the path and walks closer. It appears that the water is...glowing. The mist is dancing on top of it in a strange and unnatural way. As he gets closer, he can hear what sounds like a chorus of women's voices, singing together in perfect harmony, a sad but beautiful song.

Loto continues to step closer. His breath catches in his throat when he sees figures in the mist. In fact, on closer inspection, it seems the figures are the mist. There are tiny women, hundreds of them, dancing and singing just above the water's surface. He can perfectly make out their tiny faces and miniature bodies but each woman is completely white; they are all made of mist. The women's hair and extremities fade and flux as they move and dance, it reminds him of the way steam dances over hot water from his mother's kettle. One of the women takes Loto by surprise by turning to look at him at the exact moment his brother calls to him.

“What are you doing over there? Come on, let's go,” Hamuera is anxious to get to the shore.

“Hamuera! You have to see this!” Loto yells excitedly. Hamuera walks over to his brother, who is kneeling beside the small pond, mesmerized.

“What are you looking at?” he asks Loto, who turns and gives him a confused look.

“The figures dancing in the mist...don't you see them?” Loto responds.

“I don't see anything, Loto. We've got to get moving, come on...” Hamuera turns and walks back towards the path. Loto hesitates by the water to study the woman in the mist who, he finds, is still looking at him curiously. When she smiles at him, he is transfixed by her delicate features, she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. “Loto!” Hamuera shouts, effectively breaking Loto from his trance but the young boy still can't seem to move away from the amazing creatures. Once more, in a harsher tone, Hamuera calls out, “Loto! Now!” This time, Loto jumps up and runs to catch up with his brother.

“Didn't you even hear their song?” Loto asks, bewildered.

“Song? I didn't hear anything but the wind. But that reminds me of a story great grandfather used to tell about...mist maidens, I think he called them.” Hamuera finds the memory is pleasing to him, he was very close with his great grandfather and misses him dearly.

“Mist maidens?” Loto repeats as an image of the woman from the mist passes through his mind. Could that be what she was? A mist maiden? “What did he tell you about them?” he prods eagerly.

“Great grandfather used to say that mist maidens are water spirits made from the morning mist and water steam. They gather during the morning twilight to sing and dance over small, isolated bodies of water, like the pond back there. He came across some when he was a boy, he said that they were graceful, fairy-like creatures who sang songs that sounded like haunted lullabies.” Loto nods at this, it is exactly how he would describe his experience. A far off look appears on Hamuera's face as he tries to remember his great grandfather's words, “vesi vanhin voitehista, water is the best medicine. Great grandfather believed that the mist maidens enchanted the water and gave it healing properties. He even told me that their magic brought one of his friends back from the brink of death,” Hamuera says. “I believed him when I was a kid but now I think it was just a bedtime story.”

Loto doesn't think it is just a bedtime story. Instead, he is certain that the amazing creatures he saw at the pond were the magical mist maidens that his great grandfather spoke of. It is a welcome realization that he too has something to share with his great grandfather, who passed away when Loto was only three years old. He wonders if the mist maidens he saw were the same spirits that his great grandfather had come across in his youth, maybe they even recognized him, after all, his family always said that he looked just like him. How funny it would be if the one who stopped and smiled at him had mistaken him for his great grandfather. He glances back longingly even though the pond is no longer in his view.

The two boys spend the entire day, and well into the evening, fishing, and Loto finds that he can't think of anything but his great grandfather's story. He begs Hamuera to tell him about the mist maidens over and over again, never ceasing until his brother refused to repeat the words another time. Loto grows determined to see them again and spends a good amount of the time brainstorming for ways to make it happen. If they only appear at morning twilight, then he would have to sneak out of the house and go back to them on his own. On any day besides Saturday, he'd be able to stay as long as he wanted. He wonders if he could dare to step foot in the water with the mist maidens. Would they mind? He wouldn't want to offend them. He asks Hamuera but doesn't get an answer. Loto figures he might try to step a toe in and see how they react. Or maybe he could just point to the water and them himself and see if they follow. Such thoughts entertain him until it's time to call it a day. The brothers pack up and head back down the path for their long journey home.

As they near the pond, Loto races ahead to check for the mist maidens, even though he knows they won't be there at this hour. The knowledge doesn't save him from the twinge of disappointment when he finds that the pond appears normal, and not magical at all. He kneels to peer into the water but sees nothing. Then, he runs his fingertips through the surface, creating a series of ripples, and pictures the beautiful mist maiden who smiled at him that morning. Loto is so focused on her image that he doesn't hear his brother cry out as he trips on a rock. Loto remains completely unaware as Hamuera struggles to regain his balance while also juggling the large and heavy basket that holds the fish. It is only at the moment that Hamuera falls to the ground that Loto turns to glance at his brother. It is just in time to watch as Hamuera's head comes down on one of the rocks in the path, spilling his blood and instantly rendering him unconscious.

“Hamuera!” Loto calls out in horror. He runs over to his brother and is struck with panic as he sees that Hamuera is caught in a series of violent spasms. The left side of his head is covered in blood, the wound is still bleeding and shows no signs of stopping. The young boy considers his options quickly. There is no one around to help; his family's home is the closest and it is still two miles away. He could run as fast as he can for help, but it is late and his family will be sleeping. To wake his parents, gather medical supplies, and come back would take a very long time; too long to save Hamuera, he fears. His great grandfather's words come back to him then: water is the best medicine. He turns back to face the pond with a strange look upon his face.

He grabs his brother by the arms and drags him towards the pond, but Hamuera is at least twice his size and it is a difficult feat. It takes him what feels like forever to pull his brother the short distance. When he finally manages to get Hamuera to the pond, Loto looks down at his brother fearfully. Hamuera's skin has grown pale and his body is still being wracked with spasms. It is a terrifying sight. Loto hesitates for a moment before leaning over his brother, and, with all the strength he has left, pushes him into the water.

Loto then sits perched by the side of the pond, watching for any sign of Hamuera. With each passing second, Loto's confidence in the mist maiden's magic vanishes and is replaced by doubt and regret. The fear that he's just made a grave mistake overwhelms him. Perhaps he should have run home and awoken his family after all. The idea of enchanted water seems so far-fetched and childish now. What would he tell his family? How could he explain? He couldn't imagine they would ever be able to forgive him for what he had done and knew he would never forgive himself.

“Please, Hamuera, come back, please...” he murmurs before laying down on the grass next to the pond. He curls up in a ball and is lost to his thoughts until he falls into a fitful sleep.

Just before dawn, Loto wakes to the sound of the same eerily beautiful song that he'd heard the morning before. He wipes the sleep from his eyes and turns to face the sound. Once again, the mist maidens are spread out across the small pond, singing and dancing atop the water. He sees one of the small creatures stop before him and offer a familiar smile. Loto recognizes her at once, it is the same woman from the morning before. She starts to sing with the others, only this time her voice stands out above the rest. As she sings, the water begins to glow as it had when Loto was first drawn to it. He follows the mist maiden's eyes as she turns and looks to the center of the pond. The other mist maidens shuffle to the water's edge, continuing their song and dance as they move. Loto watches intently as the water starts to bubble and a large figure rises out of the water.

“Hamuera!” Loto exclaims loudly. His relief is so intense he feels that he might faint. Hamuera glances all around him, he doesn't know where he is. When he sees Loto at the water's edge, he hurries over to meet him. As soon as Hamuera steps out of the water and onto the grass in front of his brother, the young boy wraps his arms around him tightly. Then Loto stands on his tiptoes to study Hamuera's head. There is no sign of his injury; Hamuera has been fully healed.

“Hamuera! Loto! Where are you?” Their father's voice sounds from the distance. Hamuera sees him a few yards away and offers him a shout and a wave. As the man hurries over to his sons, Loto looks back to the mist maidens. He sees the one is still watching him with his brother. He brings his hands together at his chest and bows to her in gratitude. She smiles and nods, then turns and joins the others once again.

“You see them now, don't you, Hamuera?” he asks his brother.

“See what?” Hamuera asks and follows his brother's gaze to the pond water. “I only see the mist. What happened to me, Loto? I can't remember anything.” Before Loto can answer his brother, their father reaches them and takes them both in his arms.

“Where have you two been? Why didn't you come home last night?” His voice is frantic. “We've been worried sick about you!” Their father leans in and hugs them again without waiting for their reply. As the sun starts to peek over the horizon, Loto leads his father and brother through the events of the previous night, showing them the spilled fish, the bloodied rock and ground, and, finally, the mist maidens, who, to his dismay, had disappeared with the morning's first light. Even though his father and Hamuera weren't able to see the magical creatures with their own eyes, neither could deny that a miracle occurred that night.

As they walk home together, Loto's thoughts are repeatedly drawn back to his great grandfather's story. Hamuera said he'd told him that he saw the mist maidens and they helped him save a friend. Now Loto had seen them and they helped him save his brother. It seemed more than a mere coincidence. He couldn't help but wonder if the mist maiden's magic went beyond healing powers, maybe they could see into the future too. He doubts he'll ever know the truth, but it is clear that the tiny spirits are more powerful than he, or his great grandfather, first thought.

Loto made countless trips back to the pond in his lifetime, but he never saw the mist maidens again. He supposed that was lucky. His loved ones enjoyed long, healthy lives and were blessed with natural deaths at a ripe, old age. The events of that fateful night were never forgotten, they lived on in the stories he told to his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, just as his great grandfather had done before him. Each time he repeated the tale, it was with the hope that, if the mist maidens were ever to reappear, his family would heed the warning of their haunted lullaby and choose to believe in the magic of the mist.