Page 25

CHAPTER 25

T he remnants of the curse clung to the world like a persistent shadow at dusk. Land that had become lush and vibrant beneath the restored light now withered into a grim tableau of decay—the once fertile ground had hardened and cracked, while the towering bamboo in the forest around us stood like skeletal sentinels, their stalks pale and brittle, their vitality seeping away the closer we drew to the Realm of Shadows.

A cold, foreboding mist rolled in once we entered the land. It thickened with our every breath, swirling around us in tendrils that felt almost sentient. The sun that had illuminated our way became trapped behind a constant overcast, a heavy blanket of grey that threatened a pending storm but held back, as if reluctant to touch the cursed earth. Damp cold seeped through my cloak, chilling me to the bone and filling me with a deep weariness.

Shadows stirred at the corner of my vision, elongated and distorted, as if the darkness itself had come alive. I knew these were likely tricks rendered by the lack of light, but this explanation did little to ease the shiver that crept up my spine. This hauntingly oppressive feeling was reminiscent of the cursed night that had once engulfed our land, marking the onset of the curse that had once plagued our kingdom, leaving us devoid of even the hope that came from the stars.

My heart pounded with a mixture of dread and determination, but I pushed through my escalating apprehension in order to better examine the plants, my herbalist instincts unable to ignore the signs of corruption. The once-verdant bamboo leaves were now a sickly yellow tinged with black, as if charred by an unseen flame. The once rich soil was now dark and compact, repelling rather than nurturing life. Even the air felt thicker, laden with a malaise that seemed almost tangible. Amid the gripping fear, my mind raced to find a way to reverse the damage that had been done.

“Are you alright, Mei?” Darcel’s concern cut through the oppressive atmosphere. I hadn’t realized I’d stopped, my gaze fixed on a particularly dark patch of earth where a cluster of withered bamboo shoots seemed to pulsate with a malevolent life of their own.

I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. “It’s a lot to take in.” Such devastation seemed well beyond my realm of experience, all the books I’d studied and hours of practice irrelevant to the devastation that surrounded me. My craft dealt with charms and spells that pulled from the plants’ natural magic, not in healing corruption on such an expansive scale. The responsibility entrusted to me weighed heavily, nearly crushing me as the feeling of capability and intuitiveness that had grown throughout this journey withered in the face of such evil power.

Darcel moved closer, his presence a comforting warmth in the chilling mist. “Remember, you don’t have to do this alone. Whatever we face, we face together.” His hand found mine and squeezed gently.

I squeezed his back, grateful for the reminder that I was no longer the solitary figure who had started this journey. “Together.” I drew strength from the word and his unwavering presence beside me.

With a deep breath, I pushed forward, each step a defiance against the darkness that sought to reclaim this land. My mind cataloged every detail I observed of the curse’s presence, every piece of knowledge crucial to fight back. The sense of impending confrontation grew more oppressive the deeper we ventured. Though the cursed night had become a memory, its echoes were all too real in a land that had not yet seen the restored dawn.

The entrance to the Realm of Shadows loomed before us, an ominous gateway etched into the forest itself. The torches in our hands flickered warily as we crossed the threshold, casting long, swaying shadows against the green stalks. The air grew colder, a stark reminder of the unnatural forces at play, the only sound in the oppressive silence that enveloped us the ominous echo of our footsteps.

The path constricted as the bamboo forest thickened, the towering stalks forming a natural corridor that led deeper into the unknown. Eventually we reached a crossroads that split into two distinct paths—one broad, lined with a flourish of greenery of moss and delicate wildflowers pushing up between the roots of the bamboo, giving the illusion of life thriving in desolation; the other path was narrow, tangled with gnarled vines and veiled in deeper mist, the darkness between the bamboo seemingly impenetrable.

I took a few tentative steps, extending the torchlight to better see to better see where the mist-shrouded path led beyond the engulfing blackness. The light immediately began to sputter and dim, struggling against a darkness that seemed to swallow it whole, enveloping us in an almost tangible blackness.

This wasn’t ordinary darkness, but a spell of shadow cast over my mind, whispering tales of despair and echoing the doubts I fought to suppress. Amid this oppressive force, Darcel’s hand still found mine in the darkness. “This must be the wrong path. We need to go back.”

With a firm but gentle tug, he pulled me out of the shadow’s reach back into the flickering torchlight. The suffocating fear that had cinched my heart dispelled with just this single glimmer of light against the darkness and I gasped in relief, feeling as though I could breathe again.

My torch flickered back to life, reignited now that we were beyond the shadowed path’s oppressive spell. Once safely back at the crossroads, I cast an uneasy glance back down the path we had just escaped; wisps of darkness stirred at its edges but shrank away from the light’s reach; it spilled onto the broader corridor adorned with greenery, highlighting the vibrant life thriving in stark contrast to the ominous route we had abandoned.

Agreeing without words, we redirected our steps. The light from our torches reflected off the bamboo, painting everything in a welcoming glow, a reprieve from the oppressive darkness we had just escaped. Despite the lingering unease from my encounter with the shadows, the sight of life in such a desolate place bolstered my spirits. I studied the plants closely, noting their resilience even within the cursed land, their existence a hopeful reminder that life could still endure against all odds.

The narrow dirt path was softened by moss and fallen leaves, the occasional glow of luminescent mushrooms breaking through the mist like small beacons of hope, a stark contrast to the route we had just abandoned. The bamboo here, though still marred by signs of the lingering curse, stood tall and strong, as though resisting the darkness. Despite the lingering weight of the land’s curse, the surrounding vitality served as a persistent reminder that true strength wasn’t always found braving the harshest conditions, but in choosing the path where light could endure.

At each sign of life flourishing in the dim light my herbalist’s heart stirred, excited by each new discovery. “Look at these.” I pointed to a cluster of unusual ferns. “This is from the same plant family as the shadowroot. I think it’s a sign we’re on the right path.”

My confidence buoyed our steps as we continued forward, the trail of greenery lighting our way like nature’s own guiding lights. Eventually, it led us to a small clearing where the air was thick with moisture and the scent of earth—a fertile sanctuary that stood in stark contrast to the barrenness we had expected in such a cursed land. A sprawling patch of shadowroot nestled between the roots of an ancient bamboo tree, as if awaiting us.

Despite having found what we sought, Sir Jiang frowned. “Is that truly the plant the riddle guided us to?”

I examined it carefully. Its roots intricately woven into the ground bore the telltale markings, and its leaves were a deep, iridescent black that seemed to absorb the torchlight. “There’s no mistake. Shadowroot thrives hidden away from light, intertwined with the land’s darkest essence.”

“But this clearing isn’t exactly shrouded in darkness,” Kael observed.

I paused in reaching for my tools, suddenly hesitant. I had always interpreted that shadowroot’s aversion to light applied solely to natural sources, but what if I was mistaken and it extended to all forms of illumination, even the glow that surrounded us now?

I took a deep breath, steadying my resolve. After everything I had endured on this quest, it was crucial to trust in my instincts, my knowledge, and my own capabilities. They had taken me this far, and I was certain they would see me through until the end.

I cut through the first root. Immediately the plant emitted a faint, almost imperceptible hiss—a sound so out of place it made me pause. Uneasiness tensed my stomach. Darcel’s brow furrowed in concern. “Is this really the correct plant, Mei?”

Uncertainty gripped me, and a sliver of doubt crept into my mind, undermining my resolve. I studied the plant again, comparing its features to my memory of the illustrations from my herbology texts. Its appearance matched exactly…so it seemed. I fought to shake off my unease, relying on the knowledge that I’d used on every step of this journey so far.

Ignoring the unsettling sound, I pushed forward, driven by the need to live up to the trust placed in me. Yet its fibers were tougher than expected. With each slice, the plant seemed to resist, its sap leaching into the soil with a strange luminescence that strayed from the descriptions I’d studied.

It wasn’t until I had fully uprooted a section of the plant that my mistake became apparent. The light swathing the clearing began to fade ominously, our torches dimming as though their flame was being devoured by an unseen encroaching darkness.

Kael stumbled back as shadows began to crawl along the now withering stalks, rapidly growing denser. “What’s happening?”

Horror engulfed me and I hastily dropped the plant, but it was too late. “This isn’t the shadowroot., but rather a mimic—a guardian plant to protect the real shadowroot by deterring those who seek it.” My voice shook as the clearing seemed to close in around us.

“Isn’t that something you should have known?”

I withered beneath the force of Sir Jiang’s justified anger, the weight of my mistake crushing me. Blinded by my own assumptions and an eagerness to succeed, pride had compelled me to ignore my initial doubts and jeopardize our mission.

Amid my whirl of self-condemnation Darcel reached for me, his touch a small comfort midst the discouragement threatening to swallow me whole, his devotion unwavering despite my weakness. “We need to get out of here.” His voice barely carried over the rising wind that now howled through the clearing.

He urgently pulled me back towards the path we had come from as the shadows thickened, threatening to erase the way back. We hurried through passages now drenched in inky black shadows, slowly making our way back to the forest entrance.

I scarcely noticed our retreat, my mind consumed with the implications of my failure, the price of which seemed far more dire in such a dangerous realm. The trust Darcel had placed in me, the safety of our group, my own pride—all felt diminished beneath the shadows’ looming threat that now seemed intent on claiming the bamboo forest as their own.

Even after we’d made our escape and regrouped outside the cavern’s entrance, the defeat haunted me. While the others discussed our next potential course beneath a sky shrouded in the shadow realm’s inky embrace, my mind was ensnared by the vivid replay of my error. I sat staring blankly into the fire we had lit to dispel shrouding gloom, my earlier confidence reduced to smoldering ash. The echo of my misstep pressed upon me, the grave magnitude of my mistake stifling my thoughts.

Darcel sat beside me, his presence a silent pillar of strength. He allowed me my moment to process what had happened, but didn’t allow me to remain trapped in my distress for long before he lifted my chin so our eyes met. “Everyone makes mistakes, Mei. What defines us is how we rise after falling.” His voice was soft but firm, his belief in me unshaken even in the face of our setback.

“Mistakes that risk an entire kingdom?” I asked hollowly.

“Considering I’m a prince, I do in fact have a list of such blunders.” I knew the words were meant to beckon a smile, but my discouragement was too all-encompassing to humor him.

I sat with my head cradled in my hands, lost in a storm of self-doubt and regret. Darcel’s arm wrapped around me, gently guiding my head to instead rest against his shoulder. His fingers soothingly brushed through my hair, offering much-needed comfort. With each gentle stroke, a measure of my despair ebbed away, yet the shadow of my mistake lingered, haunting me with daunting uncertainty.

Sir Jiang and Kael joined us by the fire. I braced myself for their frustration at our drastic setback, but in the face of our collective adversity, they seemed to set aside the disapproval I fully deserved. “Mistakes aren’t exclusive to you,” Sir Jiang admitted, his voice soft with a rare vulnerability in his usual confidence. “The path of a warrior is strewn with obstacles. It’s our courage to continue, despite our setbacks, that truly defines us.”

Kael nodded in agreement, his earlier antagonism replaced by the camaraderie forged through our shared trial. “You’re one of the bravest among us, Mei. Don’t let this shadow land cause you to forget that.”

Their consoling words stirred something within me—a flicker of determination that had defined my journey from the beginning. I was an herbalist, trained not just to utilize the healing properties of plants but to understand the deeper connections they held with their environment. My mistake had been a failure to listen to the very essence of nature that I so cherished, but it wasn’t too late to learn from my oversight and try again.

With renewed focus I revisited the riddle from the ancient scroll, tracing the words with my finger as I whispered them aloud. “ Amidst whispers of despair and a land bereft of light, roots entwine with secrets rare, hidden from mortal sight. ” The answer seemed more elusive shrouded in the shadows of my recent failure, but I refused to give up.

As I mulled over the words, a soft glow caught my eye from the direction of my pack, gradually growing stronger, more insistent. Lumis, my enchanted lantern, was signaling me, its radiance undimmed despite the encroaching darkness of doubt.

As I stared at its reassuring light, realization gradually dawned, bright and clear against the backdrop of my uncertainties. Lumis’s light was not of this shadowed land; it was otherworldly, capable of piercing through darkness that no ordinary lantern could dispel. Perhaps it wasn’t just a source of light but a beacon of hope, a key to the path we hadn’t taken—the narrow, ascending route where our man-made lights had failed.

The solution felt almost deceptively simple, hinging entirely on whether I had decided to take Lumis with me when I had discovered him in the forgotten temple. Yet reflecting deeper, it wasn’t just about the physical act of retrieving Lumis—it was about the faith I had placed in the legends of my ancestors, my willingness to depend on a source of light and guidance beyond my own expertise.

Perhaps this had been the real trial all along—a test of trust and acceptance that my solitary knowledge wasn’t enough to heal the land; true light and healing could only come from a higher source beyond my own skills. This realization suggested that the true path to restoration involved both faith to believe and the courage to follow wherever my light led, even when I couldn’t see the outcome.

Filled with new resolve, I rose to my feet. “Our true path is the one enveloped in shadow that we bypassed before, a way that requires us to depend solely in this lantern’s light to guide us through the darkness rather than our own.”

“We need to rely upon the lantern that emits no light?” But rather than his usual skepticism, Sir Jiang’s demeanor had shifted to curiosity, a change brought about by the trust he now placed in me and my capabilities despite my earlier failings.

I held Lumis aloft, its soft glow a reassuring halo that dispelled the last of my doubt. “Its light isn’t bound by the same rules that govern this land; it is available to all who truly seek it.”

They squinted, but by the shadows lingering in their eyes it was clear they still couldn’t see the magical light my lantern emanated. Even so, they seemed willing to believe in my words enough to follow.

Once more we ventured into the depths of the shadow realm, the warmth of the entourage’s renewed faith in me and Lumis’s otherworldly glow intertwining to guide my steps. This time I wasn’t just armed with my herbalist knowledge but a renewed sense of purpose, ready to face whatever lay hidden in the heart of shadows.