The Sleepers of Saint Garfir

     The ginger plant was a compass in Miphie’s hand. Roots entwined with her fingers, Miphie could feel what the plant felt—if plants could feel, that is. Through it, she herself was connected to the dying forest. The power trickling up her fingers had weakened somewhat after she had removed the plant from the ground, but she was able to perceive the duelling attraction and repulsion that the ginger emanated. It did not like being dragged closer to the epicentre of the sick forest, but Miphie had no other choice but to push against its repulsion and venture ever deeper into the woods.

     From time to time, they had to stop so that she could sink her hands into the ground and connect with another root system and its mycelia network. Whenever she did so, it being necessary to realign their direction, Edith, Acacia and Flute remained close by, ready to pull her out from her trance should she succumb to the growing power of the somnolence. They did not stray from Miphie. And all the while, she sensed the Ixi somewhere beyond her line of sight, hidden in the twilight.

     Just where this little plant was leading her was the question. Miphie hoped and dreaded finding the source of the woods' illness.

     The forest was totally still, the silence only punctured by their footsteps and soft conversation between Acacia and Flute. The silence put her nerves on edge: they encountered no wild arootas or squawking hermiteeses on the path: it seemed as though even the native Petpets had fallen asleep. The longer they walked, the less greenery they could see, and the thicker and taller the sprouts grew. Dead wood crept up tree trunks, and the ground was mulchy with decaying leaves.

     Edith did not leave Miphie’s side, and the Draik eyed her apprehensively. Their previous exchange had been less than civil, and now Miphie wondered how she could defuse the tension between them. The Kyrii appeared to be struggling with the same problem: she kept opening her mouth as though to say something, and then shutting it.

     “Have you noticed that we’re being followed?” Edith’s voice hitched a little, and she formed her words with care, as if the slightest misstep might trigger another argument. Miphie glanced up and nodded slightly. The Ixi spectre still lingered in her periphery, but sometimes she’d notice her edge in front of the group, perhaps wanting to lead Miphie in the right direction.

     “I met her on my first day here,” she whispered, “I think she’s been trying to lead me through the forest since she realized I could see her.”

     Beside her, Edith was silent. Her silky hair was dusty with ash from the decaying leaves, and Miphie watched as the Kyrii brushed some of it out of her eyes. “You’re shivering,” she finally remarked.

     Miphie supposed that was true. She couldn’t quite shake the iciness which had crept up her fingers at the first contact with the diseased tree, and now, whenever she sunk her hands into the ground to reconnect with the somnolent roots, the cold inched up her arms, bit by bit. She should have been more worried, but direct contact with the disease washed wave after wave of lethargy over her, and Miphie felt submerged in cold exhaustion. She was too tired to care. It was all she could do to keep her head above the current. Faintly, she was aware that her movements were growing sluggish, that her limbs were becoming heavier. What else was there to do but press on?

     “I’d like to apologize, about earlier.” Edith was glaring into the trees, looking anywhere but at Miphie. “I shouldn’t have behaved so angrily. I suppose I was worried.” She uttered this like an accusation.

     Miphie reminded herself to blink. Her tongue was leaden in her mouth, and she had to concentrate to form her words. Something about what Edith had just uttered stunned her, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what. “It’s alright,” she finally managed. “You did the right thing, yanking me away from the roots. Clearly, whatever I’m doing is causing some… worrisome side effects.” She smiled a little, but Edith’s expression remained impassive. Miphie scrunched her brows. There was something else she needed to tell her: “I’m sorry too. For yelling at you.”

     Whatever weight had been pressing down on their shoulders alleviated somewhat. Edith inhaled deeply, the crease in her brow relaxed, and it dawned on Miphie, lamentably slowly, that there were more sides to Edith than she had calculated.

     “Have you considered… what you’d do if—wherever this trail leads to—if we don’t find a solution there?”

     Miphie frowned, thinking the implications over. It was no easy feat: her mind appeared to be moving at half its regular tempo, and whatever she wanted to say felt far out of reach. “I s’pose… I haven’t really allowed myself to… think of any alternative.”

     “Surely we could then evacuate Saint Garfir? Get everyone to safety, away from the effect? It’s clear that the somnolence is only being recorded here.”

     Miphie acquiesced, but the act of nodding her head caused her to lose her footing. Edith grabbed her wrist, preventing her from veering off into a tree. “I s’pose…” she said again, distantly annoyed that her words weren’t cleverer, “we would have to evacuate. Yeah.” Admitting as much produced the strangest ache in her chest.

     “Why didn’t… Forgive me, but why didn’t everyone leave to safety at the first signs of the somnolence?”

     The Draik glanced at Edith, who was chewing her bottom lip, evidently uncomfortable with whatever she was thinking about. Miphie sighed. “I don’t know. I guess… I mean, how could they have known? Months ago, whenever the symptoms started… how could they have known what it would lead to?” The ache became a small lump in her throat. “You’d find it hard too, to leave the only home you’ve ever known.”

     At this, Edith blushed and glanced away. They walked in uneasy silence. When Miphie looked down at her wrist, she realized the Kyrii hadn’t let go. She was gently guiding her along the path, afraid the Draik might lurch off into the trees.

     How long? The question looped in tight coils in her mind. How much time was left before Miphie collapsed, like Augusto, like Vaso, like so many others in the village? When the next spasm of shivers came, she could not decide if they were from the cold or from her own fear.

     “I think we’re almost there,” she said faintly. “Could we… Could we talk about something?”

     Edith’s ears twitched. “Like what?”

     “Anything. Like: what is your favourite class this year?”

     Edith considered this a moment. “Musical Charms. And Advanced Herbalism.” Miphie blinked, amazed: a small smile tickled the corners of Edith’s mouth. “Professor Hemlock teaches it, and it’s fascinating. There are several field trips throughout the year, you get to practice a lot of techniques hands-on, not just in theory. Will you be taking it next year?”

     “I think so,” said Miphie. “Provided I pass my Herbology final. But I’m pretty good in that class.”

     Edith chuckled—actually chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me.” She hesitated, watching her for a beat too long. “What… What is your favourite class?”

     “Either Herbology or Advanced Potions. Brewing potions is fun,” she nodded solemnly. She was feeling more alert. “Though, our final unit introduced us to making morphing potions and that was… an interesting class period. There were a lot of Neopets who transformed into Pirate eyries,” she shuddered, thinking back to all those feathers. Edith looked like she was trying not to smile too wide. “You mentioned you’re taking… ‘Musical Charms’?”

     “Yes,” Edith glanced at her. “I was very lucky to get a spot in that class. It’s actually offered for students in the School of Enchantment—that’s how I met Acacia. But I’ve…” she wavered, “I’ve always loved making music.”

     “No kidding,” said Miphie. And then, without thinking: “your presentation was really amazing. Honestly. So, you took what you learned in your Enchantment class and applied it to earth faerie magic?”

     She looked surprised by Miphie’s suggestions. “That’s exactly what I did, though I must say, the process was a bit more complicated than how you put it. But yes.”

     The little smile contorted into an outright grin as the Kyrii spoke, and Miphie thought: why didn’t Edith smile more? Why did she so often behave as though she was better than them? The small question was formed before Miphie even realized it had left her mouth. Edith’s silvery eyes widened and she looked down.

     “I’m so sorry,” Miphie hurried to say, “I don’t know why I said that.”

     “No it's… it's alright.” She stiffened: “I do not behave like I'm…” Edith seemed fascinated by the ground. She frowned, having apparently uncovered some sinister secret among the roots. “I don’t know why.”

     They stopped speaking afterwards.

     As twilight faded to near obscurity, it became difficult for Miphie to see the others. Slowly, and then all at once, the forest took on an otherworldly quality, the ashen colours of the leaves and trees blending together into one indistinct tapestry. Miphie’s hands otherwise occupied, Edith, Acacia and Flute produced luminescence spells. Soft light emitted from their upturned hands, but the glow was quick to fade. It was much harder to call forth magic from nothing than to use it to enhance the existing properties of something. Eventually, Acacia realized they could cast their luminescence spells on the fluorescent mushrooms growing on stumps and logs. The spells brightened the fungi just enough to see a path free of tripping hazards.

     Miphie hissed in pain. The ginger in her hand had grown unbearably hot, and a shock tore through her headache like an arrow. The plant’s repulsion was insurmountable. It collided with a powerful tug as if something was trying to wrench the ginger from her hands. The root slipped from her grasp and was lost in the darkness.

     Then, the night sky broke through the trees, and at once, they realized that they had found a clearing. The clearing. Beside Miphie, Edith traced her hand along the sprouts growing thick atop the closest trees. Running down from the trunks and into the meadow, the sprouts grew in greater numbers than Miphie had ever seen before. They rested at varying stages of maturity, and as they guided her eyes into the centre of the clearing, Miphie inhaled sharply.

     Before them stretched a field of iridescent flowers. Thousands of them, rising from the grass or creeping up tree husks. A silvery quarter moon cast pale light onto the blooms.

     “Cover your nose and mouths.” Edith ordered. She took one cautious step towards the blossoms and pressed her sleeve over her face. “If these are the specimens creating the somnolence, then their pollen is likely poisonous.”

     Flute, Acacia, and Miphie did as they were told and followed the Kyrii into the meadow.

     It was uncanny: Miphie couldn’t shake the feeling that she had seen this flower before, but its name escaped her. She shook her head, wishing to be rid of her mind fog. She was dizzy with sleep and had difficulty moving without teetering to the side. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. It was all quite irritating.

     “These things aren’t native to Altador,” Acacia said from somewhere behind her. “They look almost magical.”

     Miphie had to agree. Six ruffled white petals rounded luminescent amethyst centers. The flowers sat low to the ground, with slender, pointed leaves, the same shade of jade as the sprouts. Those that weren’t rooted in the grass were snaking up the nearest trees like ivy. They all tilted towards the moon’s glow.

     “Whatever they are, they’re nocturnal,” she hummed. They were lovely, yet their soft glow cast an eerie light across the clearing, and threw ghostly shadows across everyone’s faces. What were they? Miphie glared at the flowers as though the answer might somehow emerge through a narrower field of vision.

     The colouration, the shape of the leaves. She shut her eyes, conjuring the layout of the school conservatory. The series of greenhouses, connected by airtight passageways, held rare specimens from everywhere in Neopia. Miphie had always spent most of her time in the temperate biome, but there were other domes, each designed to mimic the particular climates observed around the world. She imagined herself walking into the mountain greenhouse and there it was: jade stem, slender, lily-like leaves, a pale, softly lit bulb… she couldn’t remember what the plaque beside the flower read.

     Her head lulled and her eyes snapped open. She mustn’t fall asleep now.

     “Penumbra Candidium.” Edith was brooding over a flower, pinching a silky petal between her fingers. “I’m fairly certain these are penumbra blooms. They mostly grow in the mountains of Shenkuu.”

     Acacia gasped softly. “You’re right,” she said, feeling a stem. “Aren’t their petals sometimes used to produce a sleeping tisane?”

     Penumbra Candidium. Now Miphie could clearly see the plaque. “Dreamer’s Curse,” she whispered hoarsely. The name had been written above the flower’s scientific label in the conservatory. An apt moniker.

     Evidently, a single flower could not produce much of a sleeping effect, but a field of thousands of them? Free to spread recklessly, parasitically across a forest? Spring was notably gusty in Saint Garfir: it did not take a genius in botany to realize that pollen and seeds from these flowers could have been carried in the wind across miles of land. Months of exposure to the pollen, in a town without any previous immunity against this invasive species, resulted in a sleeping epidemic.

     “This clearing could not have been better suited for these flowers,” Flute mused. “The sky is almost always clear. They’ve been blooming—likely without pause aside from the new moons—for months. And without the fog that’s so characteristic of Shenkuu’s mountains…”

     Miphie took up his train of thought: “...they’ve been able to spread without restraint.”

     They all looked at one another then, their eyes begging the same question. What now?

     Edith was the first to break the silence: “Acacia, do parts of the flower carry an antidote?”

     “I’m not sure,” the lutari said. Her voice was muffled from her shirt sleeve. “The petals are used to cure insomnia, and we’re all pretty much agreed that the pollen is causing the somnolence.”

     “What about the leaves…”

     Miphie stopped listening. Acacia and Edith’s voices sounded too fuzzy to concentrate. She watched Flute, who was circling the perimeter of the clearing. The Gnorbu had tied a handkerchief over his face and was observing the base of the trees, squinting into the underbrush.

     “What are you looking for?” she slurred, approaching him.

     True to form, Flute jumped slightly at her approach. “Just—after Acacia mentioned that those flowers can be used to make sleep teas, I remembered that wild Aurora Lilies were once used for quite the opposite effect.”

     Miphie was too tired to think clearly. It seemed as though her mind had been inexplicably filled with cobwebs, and it necessitated the dredges of her concentration to swat them away. Still, she had to understand Flute. “Aurora Lilies?” she mumbled.

     Flute led Miphie to a mossy rock. She gladly sank onto it. “Y-yes,” he exclaimed, watching her with a pained expression. “Do you remember the unit on ancient Altadorian remedies in Herbology last semester?” Miphie shrugged. She wasn’t remembering much right now. “Wild Aurora Lilies are not like the ones you’d find at the garden centre. They’re quite rare, but they are endemic to Altador and they typically grow in forest clearings like this one, with direct access to sun and rich soil.”

     “I think I understand.” Miphie begged her useless mind to focus, to really hear what he was implying. If there were any lilies around here, they would be closed by this point in the night, but Miphie squinted into the darkness, her eyes tracing along the edge of the clearing. Instead of flowers, she locked eyes with the ghost Ixi, drifting in between in the trees. Flute inhaled sharply, the motion producing an involuntary whistle. Miphie inferred that he had also just spotted the spectre.

     “Ask her.” Her voice was thick with sleep, and she had to think about each word carefully.

     “I, uh… Have you seen any lilies?” Flute’s countenance had grown several shades paler. “They would be… golden in the daytime.”

     Incredibly, the Ixi nodded her head vigorously. Curly hair billowing, she flitted through the trees and froze next to—what might have been mistaken for—a cluster of tall grasses. At Miphie’s insistence, the Gnorbu approached the ghost carefully. When he was close enough, the Ixi vanished, and he kneeled to inspect the weeds. Acacia and Edith, who had until then been debating the properties of the penumbra leaves, were watching him.

     “What did you find?” Edith approached the Gnorbu, hands on her hips.

     Flute shot up, a flower with a golden bud in his hand. It shimmered faintly in the darkness. Now, Acacia was rushing over.

     “Don’t tell me: is that an Aurora Lily?”

     Flute nodded his head vigorously. “This is as close to an antidote as we’re going to get. These lilies might as well have the essence of light faeries in them. Tea from their petals may just wake up everyone back in town.” That familiar whistling was back.

     Miphie grinned despite herself. But then her gaze returned to the penumbra flowers, and her smile fell almost as quickly as it had appeared. Someone had said something earlier. She forced herself to remember. They grow in the mountains of Shenkuu… no after that. She spun the memory forward: their petals are sometimes used to produce a sleeping tisane. A sleep tea. Harmless. A remedy to gently calm down before bed. Miphie rose from her rock and bent to gather some of the flowers. She could not piece together what she already knew, but she had the growing hunch that these invasive blooms were part of the solution.

     Bouquet in hand, Miphie made to rise and walk towards her friends. Instead, a swell of vertigo overtook her and she sank to the ground.

     Miphie’s last memory before plummeting into an inky, dreamless sleep was of Edith rushing towards her.

To be continued…