The Swamp Heart was a rare flower located deep within Hayseed Swamp and, based on old accounts from long-dead residents, is said to cure any disease. It can only be found at night, on a full moon (which tonight happened to be, thankfully). Furthermore, it was very luck-dependent. One could search the swamp for decades and never get a glimpse. She desperately hoped that she could be more fortunate than most.
Murky water pulled at her hooves as she trudged onward, careful to avoid the deeper parts learned through a life of living in the swamp. Moonlight spilled down from above, lighting her path forward. A potion of clear sight ensured she could always see her way, but it still did nothing to alert her to what might be lurking below the water or in the foliage.
Though fear gripped her heart, it was nothing in the face of what would happen should she fail. Though focused more on her beloved, she was not blind to the early signs of illness on those late-night workers in the village. It was not just the sake of Mercy that burdened her.
As she crossed over a natural island of mud, light glowed faintly through a thick copse of trees. She strained to see the source, but the foliage was too dense to make it out.
One source within the old records had said that the flowers glowed. There was a chance that this was a sign of the flowers she sought; however, it could also not be, and such a delay at a time when she had so little to spare could cost her the chance to find them.
She weighed her options and ultimately decided that it was worth the risk. She marched through the brush, thorns poking her as she forced her way through, until she found herself within a clearing.
For the first time in a long time, she felt hope.
A field of pale blue flowers grew within the open grove, emitting bright white light. They grew thickly, along the ground and up along the uneven bark of a massive tree toward the sky. A thick and cloying scent permeated the area, as did a thin blue mist. It surrounded her, dominating her senses.
Before she could move further into the field, the flowers on the tree shifted. Meadowbrook tensed, fearful of what creature may appear.
A skeletal face with its snout cut off emerged from the trees, covered in flowers. It wore a long reed cloak. Pale blue eyes alighted within the empty sockets staring at her. She stood still. Terror rooted her in place.
It moved toward her, a slow purposeful gait, until it towered over her, blocking out the light. It leaned down toward her. The scent of flowers intensified.
A tilt of the head. Its jaw opened. “You seek us?” It asked.
“I-I—” Meadowbrook took a big gulp of air “—I need a cure.”
The Thing’s eyes glowed brighter. “Well, then you have come to the right place, for we have the cure you seek.”
“That’s… great,” Meadowbrook said, uncertainty in her voice as she stepped away from the creature. “Who are you?”
“We see the stories have been forgotten.” A pause. “We are Somnus, the Healer. We shall help you.”