Redeemed

Ch. 15

The smell of roasting meat roused me from my sleep. I woke up to cold stone walls, a sheet of gray, damp fog, and a skewered rabbit cooking over a fire. At least breakfast would be warm.

"Not much of a morning person, are you?" said Nourse as he lifted the rabbit and started cutting it.

"I require the sun to help me out," I replied, gazing at the impenetrable fog. "What's the deal with this weather?"

"The flower only grows in dense fog. Every year, this mountain becomes wreathed with fog for a week. That's when we know it is time." I shivered, imagining the cold and damp journey we were sure to endure today. Nourse just snorted and handed me a piece of rabbit.

"Wear your cloak. You'll be fine," he said.

Half an hour later, damp to the bone, nose oozing unstoppable mucus, and shivering as if eternal winter had come, I was anything but fine. This flower had better be worth the cold I was surely going to get. Heck, maybe the dang thing could cure the oncoming cold. I wiped my nose on my hand for the upteenth time and tried not to think about how disgusting I was at the moment.

An eerie scream wafted through the fog.

"What was that?" I asked, glancing around. Gray was the only thing I could see.

"Mountain lion," Nourse replied. "Stay close. It won't bother us." I fingered the sword hanging off my left hip as we continued to trudge up the mountain.

The fog continued to get denser the higher we climbed. At this point, I could've taken my hunting knife and carved the clouds into decorative sculptures. I sneezed, the snot hanging off my nose. Attractive. Wiping it away, I asked, "Are we nearly there?" I was sure to put my most whiny, pathetic voice into the question.

In response, Nourse stopped and dismounted. He disappeared into the fog. Sheesh, I hadn't meant to drive him off.

"Nourse?" I called. I could only see about five feet in front of me. "I'm sorry!" His horse stomped a foot, adjusting his weight, and nickered. I stroked his side. I was about to start looking for him when his voice pierced the fog, calling me to him.

Dismounting, I ran toward his voice, trying not to stumble on the loose rocks. After falling twice and somehow becoming even more soaked, I found Nourse crouched over a small flower. The Dayspring.

Contrary to its name, the flower had pitch black petals with midnight blue and purple stripes running from the bottom to the tip. White, glistening stamen stuck out of the middle attached to a white stem and leaves. Dew glistened on the leaves and petals, giving the flower an otherworldly quality.

Words from another life flashed through my mind:

Beware the foggy white-stemmed flower

With its midnight gleam and glow

Only fools will seek its power

And to death they'll surely go.

Dad's voice echoed through my head, bringing me back to the times he took me and my brother hunting and camping. I had just come back from picking bunches of wildflowers one dewy morning, and we were going through the different types of flowers and their properties.

"If you ever come across a flower with a white stem and leaves," Dad had said, flicking a dandelion at me for emphasis, "avoid it at all costs. Nightshade is its name, and a single touch can kill you. If possible, you should burn it, for it brings no good to anyone. Legend says that is why they prefer foggy and muggy areas." I had shrugged it off as him being overprotective and a little too immersed in fairy stories, but he made me promise to never go near a plant with a white stem.