I had strayed from the main road and wandered into the fog.
I wept, but the thick fog swallowed up my pleas for help.
All that I felt was fear.
The black fog enveloped me, almost devouring me.
Just as I reached my limit, a majestic figure strood out from the depths of the fog.
Holding a huge black umbrella and wearing a tall top hat from another time, he approached me with steady, composed steps.
The hopeless black fog howled desperately, struggling futilely to flee from his presence.
But to no avail.
No one was better at dealing with the dreaded black fog than he.
He walked toward me with purpose, with warm, hopeful sunlight rising from within him.
Penetrating the depths of the fog and casting its light over me.
This majestic figure arrived at my side and gently placed its hand on my shoulder.
"Oliver, let's go home."
He spoke to me softly.
At this moment, I finally understood what it meant to be a Fogwalker.
The Fogwalker is one who steps into the fog and brings light to others.
Fundamentally, it's a job like any other, mundane as tightening screws or scooping manure.
But that's not all it is.
My father once walked through the fog to bring me hope.
On that day, he did the same.
"This is my responsibility. and it is our responsibility."
The hand that had gently rested on my shoulder withdrew in silence. He donned his top hat again and stepped back into that fog.
The same voracious fog that would devour him whole.
In the same way, he found me in the fog and brought me hope.
On that day in 1952, he also brought hope to the people of London.
The hope of survival.
I found myself weeping, the tears falling beyond my control.
A Knight: ...
A Knight: Excellent work...
A Knight: Oliver, let's go home.
Oliver Fog: Some day in the future, will I be able to bring hope to the world, just like you and... my father?
A Knight: ...
A Knight: Yes.
A Knight: Someone firmly believes that the day will come.
A Knight: Or have you already forgetten someone told you of your potential as a knight?
