Great Ghost Glovewort Locations 소설 & 이야기

We needed to locate a cave and establish a campsite, where, with Agatha's assistance, we could kindle a fire that would remain unextinguished by any wayward gusts infiltrating our shelter. Before embarking on this perilous quest, I had questioned Agatha as to why she couldn’t simply teleport to collect these elusive herbs. She explained that their wild nature meant they could sprout anywhere along the mountain's extensive trail, necessitating a physical search. Moreover, teleportation placed a hefty burden on a witch, limiting the process to no more than three individuals simultaneously. We required the protection of guards to prevent Morgana from discovering our intentions.

"What is it, Helen? Talk to me." Helen dropped her voice to a tense, hurried whisper. "The guards just found something in the water lines. Someone dumped a highly concentrated batch of silver-root venom into the wells by the eastern gardens. If anyone touches it or breathes in the steam when the morning sun hits it, their lungs will paralyze in minutes." All the air left my chest. "Where exactly?" I whispered, my hands starting to tremble. Helen looked at me with a mix of pity and absolute dread. "The eastern paths, Zaria. Right by the treeline. It’s the exact route you take every single afternoon to go see Maeve at the greenhouse."

“We should move before the place gets darker. Morgana said the treasure would be buried inside the heartroot grove.” I turned slowly. “And that would be where exactly?” He pointed to the distance, and my gut clenched. Far ahead, nestled in a nest of trees taller than towers and thick with shadow, was a deep dip in the terrain, where golden mist swirled like a storm held in place. There. Of course. The most cursed-looking place imaginable. “Figures.” I began walking, motioning for the others to follow. “Let’s go before the pretty flowers start eating us.”

Fiona’s POV The first clue had led us to the deep swamp behind the old site. It was said that a rare plant, Dark Light Algae, grew here—an essential material for activating the magic array. But as I stood at the swamp’s edge, inhaling the thick, musty air, I couldn’t help but wonder if the legends had conveniently left out the part where we’d have to risk our lives to retrieve it. A dense, eerie fog coiled around twisted trees, their gnarled roots jutting out of the soggy ground like skeletal fingers grasping at the air.

“Nestefel is going to help Penny. If we can get hold of this herb, I may create a potion that will, no, that may… bring her out of the stupor!” Ludwig darted his gaze at Tova. “That’s a brilliant idea. What are you waiting for? Go make the potion with Nest— whatever!” Tova raised his eyebrow at all the men who looked at him curiously. “There’s a problem.” Ludwig snarled with murderous energy. “The herb is a rare one and you can find it in the valley of Sirens, or in simple language - the nymphs.”

He grunted but didn’t press the matter. I brushed aside fallen leaves and examined the undergrowth. The pull was stronger now, almost like something was vibrating in my chest. It was close. Very close. There, growing at the base of an old oak tree was a small plant with pale, almost translucent petals. They shimmered faintly in the dappled sunlight, like they were made of glass. I recognized it immediately from one of the texts I had studied at the academy. Ghost’s Whisper. My breath caught in my throat. Ghost’s Whisper was one of the rarest plants in existence. The book had said it only grew in areas touched by ancient Lycan magic, which was why most people thought it was extinct.

Suddenly, Oliwen raised his hand and he said: “Me!” “Oliwen? Alright, but you should be careful, the Domin’s citizens are not friendly at all.” Oliwen: “...” “About the prophecy…” Pure waved her hand, and a crystal globe appeared “We should take a look at this globe.” When she’d just finished talking, a sudden light appeared in the room. Then the room was covered with a strange light. That kind of light made the room special. A dim picture appeared on the globe… That is a village, a village in the human world. A boy standing in the alley with a beggar…Then a small beautiful star fell on top of the boy. A series of deep breaths resounded from everyone in the room.

~Bethany~ Just like always, I'm awoken by terrifying nightmares. I go through my usual brutal morning workout routine to get my day started, followed by a quick shower right before Zuri or Hellion wakes. Last night, after making sure that the smart ass Fae, Asad Mort, wasn’t following me, I snuck out to a disreputable bar in Torah to track down the contact of a demon black market dealer. I need to obtain Foxglove shrub, a very rare and scarce spell ingredient that is highly monitored by the Noble Council due to its being a potent ingredient used in so many outlawed dark magic spells.

There were a few things listed, scribbled in her neat, witchy handwriting: Quill feather Lemongrass Bone ash of a forest creature Moonrose petals A vial of twilight dew I blinked at the last two. “You’re kidding.” “Nope.” “Where do you even get twilight dew?” She smirked, standing. “You leave a silver bowl under the moonlight, right before sunset. Collect the dew that forms. It’s rare but not impossible.” “And bone ash?” I raised a brow. “I have a pouch of it. Relax,” she said casually. Of course she did.

And there, on the reverse side, meticulously written in a precise, almost clinical hand, were two distinct lines of text. The first line was a location: "The Whispering Grotto. West Garden." The Whispering Grotto. Violet remembered it, a secluded, almost forgotten corner of the vast estate grounds, a place where ancient stone benches nestled amidst overgrown ivy and gnarled olive trees, a place of profound solitude, almost completely obscured from the main pathways. A place where whispered secrets could easily be swallowed by the rustling leaves, by the ancient stones themselves. The second line was a time: "Midnight. Tonight." Midnight.