6 September, 1895 — Salem Square Harvest Festival
The governess had been finding outings like this with activities for children and encouraging Ezra to take his nephew and ward out to them since almost the first day he had arrived, and while Ezra had initially been skeptical that they were accomplishing anything at all he did have to credit her now. The boy had mottled red jam smeared along one cheek and had a fistful of candies he was considering very carefully to determine which one to eat next. It had been just over a year since his parents had been lost in the Padmore Park cave-in, and he was finally starting to look happy again. Even Ezra was enjoying himself... the smear of jam on Caleb's cheek looked a little like a scrape or cut at a casual glance, and he was privately amused watching various mothers and governesses looking concerned or aghast before they realized.
Caleb had been tugging Ezra towards the strongman game every ten minutes or so since he'd first spotted it, and had just done so again. Ezra had no illusions he would be any good at a contest of physical strength, but Caleb's persistence had just about worn him down to the point where he was willing to forego his dignity and try. That was when they heard the first scream. It was nearish but not directly in their line of sight, given the density of the crowd. Ezra instinctively put a hand on the boy's shoulder and pulled him a bit closer, but not because he considered him in any real danger. The biggest concern on his mind was that the child would be jostled and potentially knocked over if someone tried to move through the crowd quickly... if the scream had been someone with a stolen purse and the thief was escaping, or an accident that would see a healer or doctor rushing in.
Then there was a second scream, and that one cut off so abruptly that it chilled him straight through. That wasn't normal, and he couldn't supply a normal explanation for it.
People were starting to move, bustling back away from the epicenter of whatever was happening. Ezra did the same, pulling Caleb along. He didn't know what was over there, but knew nothing good would come of their being near it. Caleb was struggling to move quickly, overwhelmed by the sudden noise of the crowd and finding himself nearly stepped on more often than not. Ezra's grip on him changed from a hand on his shoulder to an arm wrapped around him. There was a quiet spreading behind them, and when Ezra hazarded a look he saw nothing but a sprawling mist.
"Come on, hurry," he said, shoving Caleb forward a bit as a panic started to rise in his chest. Caleb stumbled and fell and Ezra reached down to scoop him up, to carry him the rest of the way — and something happened to his foot when he crouched down and the fog rolled forward. He stumbled up and down the street, feeling off balance. It took him four steps to realize why, and even then it made no sense to the more logical part of his brain. The heel of one foot had entirely disappeared, shoe and sock and all. Even part of the back cuff on his trousers was missing.
Caleb could sense his panic, Ezra thought. "It's okay," he said, as steadily as he could manage under the circumstances. "It's okay, you're going to be okay."
Caleb had been tugging Ezra towards the strongman game every ten minutes or so since he'd first spotted it, and had just done so again. Ezra had no illusions he would be any good at a contest of physical strength, but Caleb's persistence had just about worn him down to the point where he was willing to forego his dignity and try. That was when they heard the first scream. It was nearish but not directly in their line of sight, given the density of the crowd. Ezra instinctively put a hand on the boy's shoulder and pulled him a bit closer, but not because he considered him in any real danger. The biggest concern on his mind was that the child would be jostled and potentially knocked over if someone tried to move through the crowd quickly... if the scream had been someone with a stolen purse and the thief was escaping, or an accident that would see a healer or doctor rushing in.
Then there was a second scream, and that one cut off so abruptly that it chilled him straight through. That wasn't normal, and he couldn't supply a normal explanation for it.
People were starting to move, bustling back away from the epicenter of whatever was happening. Ezra did the same, pulling Caleb along. He didn't know what was over there, but knew nothing good would come of their being near it. Caleb was struggling to move quickly, overwhelmed by the sudden noise of the crowd and finding himself nearly stepped on more often than not. Ezra's grip on him changed from a hand on his shoulder to an arm wrapped around him. There was a quiet spreading behind them, and when Ezra hazarded a look he saw nothing but a sprawling mist.
"Come on, hurry," he said, shoving Caleb forward a bit as a panic started to rise in his chest. Caleb stumbled and fell and Ezra reached down to scoop him up, to carry him the rest of the way — and something happened to his foot when he crouched down and the fog rolled forward. He stumbled up and down the street, feeling off balance. It took him four steps to realize why, and even then it made no sense to the more logical part of his brain. The heel of one foot had entirely disappeared, shoe and sock and all. Even part of the back cuff on his trousers was missing.
Caleb could sense his panic, Ezra thought. "It's okay," he said, as steadily as he could manage under the circumstances. "It's okay, you're going to be okay."
![[Image: 5WWaDR1.png]](https://i.imgur.com/5WWaDR1.png)