Dill opened her eyes in a half-asleep state, and in a trance she thought she saw Amber standing beside the bed, the light of the full moon pouring into her blonde hair, making it shine like gold, but half of the owner's face was submerged in heavy darkness.
It seemed that every time the full moon approached, Amber became mysterious, and Dill wanted to ask her what was wrong, only to see Amber turn on her side and sit on the edge of the bed without saying a word, the darkness veiling her in mystery.
Dill.
She murmured softly
Dill peered up and tried to see the expression on her face when she woke up.
[Wake up.
Wake up and play with us.
I love your scent.
Can I kiss you on the cheek?
Stay away from her, you snotty elves! Laurel's exasperated voice rang in her ears.
When she opened her eyes, the large, round moon fell into her eyes like a teardrop, and Dill was suddenly drowsy. She looked around and quickly remembered where she was.
The big white goose was buried in her arms, sleeping peacefully, and Dill looked up.
The light of the moon was shedding silver coins on the surface of the lake, and the whole area was covered with sparkling waves. Several lake elves with dragonfly wings were happily playing around her, sloshing the fresh water dew.
Elder's black horse was resting by the lake; his pure black mane was as bright as silk; the days and nights of running didn't seem to have tired him at all; Dill could still hear him whispering in his sleep; even in his dreams, he was still running on the grassland; this was a horse that didn't have any worries.
Yes, they crossed a large flat land, and the journey was uneventful.
Dill wasn't sure where she was, but she knew the destination: the Temple of the Daughters, farther south than Byfleet Court, in the Cape of Southwatch. Before she could do that, she had to cross half of the continent of Vitokvano from west to east, and connecting east and west were the plains of the Atrium, irrigated by the Jungli River, which flowed from snowy gorges in the northwest across the vast plains and finally into the Bay of Red Wine in the southeast, so there was no mistaking following the river.
As it was, she could barely see the towering ridge forests that characterized the north, which meant she was indeed heading south.
Dill used a branch to draw a route on the ground, and suddenly a handful of water splashed over. It was an elf with colorful wings like a red dragonfly playing, watching the girl shake off the dew drops on her head. It laughed even more happily; its light laughter was like bells in the wind, pleasant and annoying.
[It's almost the full moon, your magic is getting stronger and stronger, you tend to attract nasty guys.] Laurel gritted her teeth.
Dill was reminded of her previous dream by its mention.
Every night of the full moon, all the great witches of Miller's Valley would be missing, and Kristina believed that they were enjoying the legendary divine feast behind the backs of the little witches, and once called on Dill, Katniss, and Helena to sneak into a group to follow the great witches.
Of course, they found nothing and were chased by Bertha with a silver bow for half the village.
You're not ready for this. Amber flicked the girls on the nose.
Ready for what?
Dill subconsciously pulled her arm up to look for the rose tattoo, and to her surprise, there was nothing on her bare arm but the old scar forming a small crescent.
She remembered the sea of roses that surrounded Mucha, and a sudden, inexplicable uneasiness welled up in her heart.
The young girl raised her head and looked at the moon hanging alone in the night sky; it was still just a shallow crescent moon when she left Miller Valley, At that time, she was like walking high on a steel string; at any moment, she was afraid of being doomed.
Now the moon was almost like a ripe pearl, wrapped in the velvet blackness of the night and giving off a soft, rounded glow, though Dill knew it was not full enough, like a mirror with its edges missing.
It was not yet time.
The goddess of the moon is also the goddess of magic, and the night of a true full moon means a great deal to every witch, as well as magical creatures. Man-wolves also transform on the full moon, and it will only become more difficult to find out the real werewolves in the future.
Dill could not restrain herself from thinking of Jonestown, a vivid and exciting memory that seemed like it happened not long ago yesterday: the humanoid townspeople, the man-wolves seeking power, and... the black wolf who was so good at disguising himself.
She shook her head, unwilling to think deeply.
The sound of the elves playing was getting noisier and noisier, just as disturbing as mosquitoes flying around her head, and a few of them even pulled up the young girl's long hair to play with it.
I can't take it anymore! Dill, help me; I'm going to teach those guys a lesson!
"Don't you need a full moon to manifest?"
Your power is enough!
Under Laurel's guidance, Dill waved away those crazy elves and took out a glass bottle sealed with cowhide from the cupboard, filled with white flowers from elderberries, and when she opened it, the sweetness gushed out like long-brewed grapes. She didn't dare to covet it, and hurriedly poured in a silver cup full of full moon gel, and then placed the glass bottle on the grass, facing the moonlight.
Dill, who had been so worried a moment ago, was now full of anticipation.
The liquid in the glass bottle was flowing with color, just like the fetal water of life brewing. She didn't have time to see clearly; she saw two of the dry petals become softer and softer, and finally, as if they had life wings, they completely extended, with a pair of delicate and beautiful crescent moon patterns.
The young girl did not have time to see clearly; the bottle began to appear with a line of cracks, as if there was some kind of life that could not wait and eagerly wanted to break out of the shell.
Kaboom, the bottle instantly cracked into a field of crystals.
Dill looked at it with nervousness and anticipation.
Then, she saw a good-sized fluttering moth rushing towards the group of watery dragonflies, hitting each other variously and painfully with its huge wings.
Dill: ...
[I've been putting up with you guys for a long time!!! I think you have pretty wings, don't you? Isn't it?!!!]
Laurel didn't spare any of them, especially the one that just threw water at her witch; the big white moth directly slurped the other into the water with its wings so hard that Dill could still hear a fluttering sound.
The tragedy of the scene made Dill try to control the thoughts in her head: can't be too much, can't be too much, can't be too much!
When Laurel flew back with satisfaction, she saw her master sitting quietly in the same place.
Dill peeked at it from the corner of her eye. In fact, the appearance of the laurel congealed body did not look like that of an ordinary moth; the pair of pure white wings were born with crescent-like eyes, and the two slender tails drooped down like a white kite woven with silk. When the wings flapped with glittering scale powder, the two ends of the tail were like dancing ribbons of color, exceptionally beautiful.
Under the huge wings hid a small man with black hair and white skin, with downy tentacles on his forehead and skin as moist as pearl white.
[Do you also think I'm not as good-looking as those water elves? Laurel's mind was sensitive, and her wings fell down in a wan manner.
In fact, the elf's appearance is like a scaled-down version of Dill; the long, dark hair draped in pure white thin wings, with the wings gently flapped and crystalline scale powder-like fine snow embellishment of its skin, is simply a jade sculpture that can be held in the hand of the little man.
Dill stared at this shrunken version of herself and sincerely opened her mouth to praise, "I'm glad my elf isn't like those mosquitoes; you're beautiful."
Laurel immediately flew around her happily, and Dill clapped her hands to cheer her up. Halfway through, Turnip woke up and saw the big moth flying around like it was a flying breakfast. The Great White Goose also flapped its wings excitedly and opened its beak for a bite, making Laurel furious.
Along with the great white goose and the black horse, plus a large fluttering moth, the journey seemed to be much more lively.
The [divinity] that was once barely useful is now affecting Dill all the time. Understanding animal speech was a novelty for Dill; at least it was better than Doom's incessant whispers.
Wide grassland often encountered a number of graziers; the other animals, out of what is wrong, dill have a way to cure, except for the noisy goats, full of spit masters of the nonsense, so that dill listen to half a day of profanity, raise their heads, and do not know how to fool the face of concern and anticipation of the grazier.
The little witch had made quite a bit of coin along the way with this, and she was also able to roughly piece together where she was from the herdsman's mouth.
Dill had already followed the river out of the canyon pass; the Green Valley River nurtured a large area of fertile grassland; this was also one of the upper reaches of the Junli River. She remembered that Perun said that most of the Green Fairies who believed in the Three Goddesses of Nature were scattered in the lower reaches of the Junli River, where there were countless swamps and forests that could conceal a witch's whereabouts.
For the time being, Dill reassured herself that she didn't have to be afraid of Oya and the others, not to mention that she still had the divine buff of magic nullification.
However, she also knew an interesting thing from the shepherds: not far away was a forbidden place called Shadow Hills, where mysterious hermits and some warlocks and pagans banished by the church lived. Rumor has it that old spells and incantations are practiced there, and waves of salty mist fill the place with evil. They say that those who enter the forbidden place will immediately be robbed of their shadows and will never find their way out, becoming lonely souls who will drift in the shadow mound for eternity.
The most important thing is that there is an evil black witch living in the Shadow Mound. I heard that she has lived for hundreds of years, loves to eat children, and possesses strong magic power. She can easily call the shadows under her feet to kill people; even the knights of the Church can not easily step on the Shadow Mound.
The kindly shepherd showed the girl another clear path to the rich and safe marketplace of Oak Barrel.
The girl smiled her thanks and, after the shepherd had departed, did not hesitate to turn her horse in the other direction.