Grave Glovewort 5 Novels & Stories

“No. All I’ve done is stabilize him. He’s still vulnerable. The runes just make him more receptive to the ritual I’ll have to perform.” As if on cue, a knock rapped at the door. Grimhold jerked his chin at Kael. “Answer it.” Kael opened the door, and the servants trooped in, arms filled with herbs, powders, and jars. They set everything on the table by the wall and bowed before Grimhold dismissed them with a quick wave. The moment the door closed, I flew to the supplies, my fingers trembling as I pulled jars open and measured the ingredients carefully. The air quickly filled with the bitter scent of wolfsbane and the sharp tang of salt.

​But the levity dies as the grove looms ahead. ​It is a shadowed hollow nestled between two jagged ridges. Ancient oaks tower like silent, judging sentinels, their dead branches interlaced like bony fingers blocking out the rising sun. Their thick bark is edged with lunar runes, but the magic has gone rancid. They pulse faintly with a sickly, bruised violet light. The air hums with a malevolent energy that sets Aria completely on edge, her growl sharpening into a snarl that vibrates right through my teeth. The grove tastes of witch herbs, copper, and forgotten blood.

"The air is thick. Sours the stomach." They felt it. Not as clearly as I did, but the Gloom was already seeping past the grove's boundaries, affecting those sensitive enough to perceive it. Adrien's face was a mask of cold fury, his gaze fixed on the altar stone as if he could see the corruption staining it. "Find it," he commanded, his voice low and harsh. "Whatever he placed here. Tear this ground apart if you have to."

Outside, the mist pressed against the windows, blurring the world. Elowen's smile faded, her eyes hardening. 'Nothing's free, wolf. Curses like yours are woven deep, tied to blood and moon. I can unravel it, but you must fetch me moonbloom—a rare herb from the rival shifters' territory, deep in the Whispering Caves. Guarded fiercely, it blooms only under the eclipse. Bring it, and I'll lift the beast from your bones.'

"That crappy orchard your brother bought. It’s got quite a bit of rosemary in it. Ha! Not only has that dump never made a single dime, we still have to pay a crew to maintain it every year." A thought flickered in my mind. I knew that place. The orchard sat on a ruined silver mine, its trees drawing on the soil and the breath of silver for years, gaining a power to ward off evil. The Haunts came with the wind, but silver tamed the wind. Those trees were worth far more than my mother and brother could ever imagine. If my infant spirits had wielded weapons made from that wood, they would have been unstoppable.

“And what is The Grove exactly?” “The exact name is Harlow Grove, or the Grove for short. It’s the place where the supernaturals reside, but mainly home to Witches and Warlocks. It was made up of twelve covens, each having their own leaders and those leaders formed The Council. Now, Father Zyte went there and asked for help.” “He expected them to bend the rules for him, for him only?” I asked.

It took a while but I could plainly discern a figure being shaped within the dark aura. [Minion Gnoll -Mystic rank] Level 5 EXP: 0/12000 HP-3000 CON-300 ATK-300 STR- 100 DEF-105 DEX-21 Speed-52 AGI-52 Mana -0 INT-50 Skills- Dash(R) Dual Blade Mastery(Mystic) Enhanced(Elite) Life-Drain(Unique) Monarch's blessing(Epic) Web(Elite) Poison bite(Elite) Demise(Unique)

No normal could see them, for they are wrapped with incantations from their best wizards. Burning out from his curiosity, he leaned and started to speak. "Hey you, normal! Can you see me?"

Bradford slightly bowed to them. “All right my child. This is called a vanderweed. It is for camouflage of the physical appearance. Too much and the caster may get stuck that way. This one here, see the purple hue? This is the main herb for Exivo. This one is what cleanses the blood of contaminants. It grows wild here as you may well know. This thorny one, is thatch weed. It’s good for potions you need to have some punch.” She continued telling him all of them. He listened intently and they collected herbs.

I hope that news will at least distract her, even if my beast is still clawing at my skull with the anger he has no idea where to direct. Something at the bottom of the golden wreath catches my eye and I lean in closer to get a better look. five silver flowers poke up from amidst the wolfsbane. In the centre is a lily, either side of that a daffodil, and beside each daff is a daisy.