The Elixir

The most significant and infernal thing in my life would come to me by my own hand, though of that fact I had been ignorant as I ventured out from my home in search of blackberries on that fateful August day. The bramble lay on the border between tamed farmland and dense forest, forming part of a thicket that acted as a bulwark against mankind's encroachment. As I walked through the long grass of the overgrown bridle path that went from my home to the fields the sun's heat bore down on me whilst the buzz of crickets deafened me. Upon reaching the thicket I found it barren, plucked clean by cattle; while searching for any remaining blackberries I came upon an oval-shaped opening in the bramble, leading into the forest.

Venturing into the forest I felt as though I were stepping into a new world, not only because the warmth of the desiccated grass was replaced by the cool dampness of mud. The once omnipresent heat of the Sun's oppressive rays had disappeared and, in its place, the coolness of eventide reigned, I felt as though I had stepped from day into dusk. As I ventured further into the gloom of that sylvan realm the blackberries were scarce however, the few I did find led even deeper into the forest. They led me past the fungi covered corpses of fallen oaks and mangled trees befitting of a child's nightmare into the depths of the forest. Eventually, I found myself stood before a rotund, earthen hovel with a thatched roof; the sod that formed its walls were ravaged by creeping ivy. Its door, which was composed of branches bound together by frayed leather strips, hung ajar. My mind reeling with ideas of who might live in such a dour home, I proceeded to approach the door before calling out hello. Having received no reply I chose to enter, my being assaulted by the scent of sulphur as I did so.

As I ventured into the gloom the stench grew stronger. The wan light of the forest did not do much to illuminate my surrounding however, I could see amidst the shadows a figure slumped atop a chair. My pulse hastened as I became aware of what lay before me whilst my chest became so tight I feared the skin would tear as I saw the figure as it truly was, an emaciated corpse with blueish skin that writhed as maggots crawled out from its eye sockets. The stygian scene and acrid stench combined to cause me to be sick on the floor; I sat beside my foul discovery as I recovered. After a while, still shaken, I arose from the ground and began to search for a fireplace. Having found and proceeded to light on I saw a yellowing, vellum page laying in the centre of the table; the page was adorned with illustrations of plants including one with green leaves and yellow flowers. Had my curiosity been greater I would have lingered but instead repulsion got the better of me and so I left with the torn page.

After having spread word of the poor soul festering in the forest, I retired to my home. I sat drinking as I contemplated my horrific discovery; it was only as I became overcome by the spirit that flowed from my flask that my attention turned to the yellowing vellum. By the orange glow of an oil lamp, I pored over the page; as I studied the words and came to understand that it was a recipe for some form of an elixir. It spoke little of the way in which it would affect the drinker but, it seemed to be some form of physic for the senses. The ingredients included mugwort, Fly amanita, and belladonna which had to be harvested under the pale light of the moon; so, I ventured out into the night, the gibbous moon still yet to reach its zenith and headed to the old church. The untended graveyard had, long ago, been reclaimed by nature with its crumbling gravestones held together by ivy and an abundance of wildflowers.

As I made my way to the church the screams of foxes and distant howls of hounds caused my skin to turn to gooseflesh; the incandescence of my lamp was my only comfort as I pushed further into the velveteen darkness. Having reached the church, I forced open the rusty, spearheaded, iron gate as I ventured into the long-neglected churchyard. Few of the gravestones remained erect and those that had were ensnared by ivy and surrounded by weeds; some of the gravestones were pushed up against the dry-stone walls that marked the churchyards perimeter. Alongside those gravestones, Belladonna and Mugwort grew. After harvesting the plants, I turned my attention to the forsaken church and its crumbling walls within which fungi flourished. The walls had become covered by ivy whilst fungi claimed the floor; where stone was once to be found the years of decay had covered with dirt. Upon finding the red and white mushrooms growing on the bark of a tree that laid in front of the altar, having previously fallen through the stained-glass windows. Having harvested the ingredients I returned home, retiring to bed once I got there.