As they sat around the campfire, pondering their next steps, Juan's mind raced. The image of the Flower of Pan, so crucial to their quest, weighed heavily on his thoughts. His brows furrowed as the pieces of the puzzle began to click together in his mind.
"It was her," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
"What do you mean, Juan?" Mathea asked, turning her gaze toward him, sensing something important was stirring in his mind.
Juan hesitated, his voice low as the truth finally surfaced. "It was the woman. The one who took the flower… Her name was MJ."
The others leaned in, waiting for him to explain.
"I remember now. She came to the village years ago, claiming she was a healer in need of rare herbs. She was... quiet, unassuming. At first, no one paid her much attention. She stayed in the village for months, helping where she could, earning the trust of the elders. The villagers liked her, especially Elder Igo. He was sick for some time, and when it became clear he couldn't go into the forest to retrieve the flower herself, MJ was the one who offered to do it."
Mathea frowned. "And she took it?"
Juan nodded grimly. "Yes. Igo trusted her, thinking she would bring back the flower. But when she returned, the flower was gone. She'd stolen it. I didn't realize it at the time, but now... Now it makes sense."
Jea's eyes narrowed in thought. "She didn't just steal it for herself, did she? What would she need it for?"
"I'm afraid it's worse than that," Juan said, his voice tinged with regret. "She wasn't just a healer, and she wasn't just some simple traveler. MJ was a witch. I heard whispers... She's after something darker, something much more powerful than anyone could have imagined. She wanted the flower for its magic—its power."
"Where did she go after that?" Mathea asked, her voice tight with concern.
Juan shifted uncomfortably. "After she took the flower, she disappeared. No one knows where she went, but she left in the dead of night. It's been years since then. But I'm sure—she's the one who took it."
"Then she's the key to finding the flower," Jea said, her tone resolute. "If we can find her, we might be able to get it back."
Juan nodded, but there was doubt in his eyes. "It won't be easy. MJ isn't someone you can find easily. She's dangerous. But if she's still out there... if she still has the flower... we might just have a chance."
Mathea took a deep breath, steeling herself. "We need to find her before it's too late. And we need to get that flower, no matter the cost."
"I know," Juan agreed, his expression hardened with determination. "But we have to be careful. The longer the flower is in the wrong hands, the stronger MJ will get. We can't let her use its power for whatever dark purpose she has in mind."
The group sat in silence for a moment, each of them absorbing the weight of what was to come. The quest was no longer just about saving Andrie—it was about stopping a dangerous witch from using a powerful, ancient magic to unleash a far darker force on the world.
"I'll do whatever it takes to bring Andrie back," Mathea said finally, her voice steady but fierce. "We'll find MJ. We'll take back what was stolen. And we'll stop her."
Juan looked at her, his expression a mix of respect and resolve. "We'll find her together. Let's just hope we're not too late but we need to find the plant first."
"Okay, let's go." Athena said as she patted Yhan Yhan. This lion knew the way."
"Good." Mathea nodded.
*****
The group moved quietly through the valley, the morning mist swirling around their feet as they searched for the plant that could preserve Andrie's body. Every step felt heavier, the loss of their companion still fresh in their minds. Mathea, leading the group, kept her gaze on the path ahead, though her thoughts were elsewhere. Each rustle of leaves, each snap of a twig seemed to echo in her mind, the weight of their quest pressing down on her.
"We're almost there," Juan said, his voice breaking the silence. "The plant grows in this area—near the rocks, by the stream."
"I know," Mathea replied, though her tone was distant. She had to push forward. Andrie's body needed their help. His death couldn't be in vain.
Jea moved beside Mathea, her eyes scanning the ground carefully. "I think we'll be okay. The plant isn't too far." She paused, kneeling to examine a cluster of plants near a boulder. "Here it is," she said, smiling faintly as she found what they were looking for. The magical plant of Igo's description—a strange, silvery-leaved flower with violet-blue petals that shimmered in the morning light.
"That's the one," Juan confirmed, his voice soft but full of relief.
"We can't waste any more time," Mathea said urgently, kneeling beside the plant. "We need to make sure it's used properly. The moon will be full tomorrow, and if we don't do this right, we might lose him forever."
Jea nodded in agreement, carefully gathering the flowers. "This should work. But remember, it's not a guaranteed solution. We can only hope the magic holds."
With the plant carefully wrapped and secured, they began the trek back to where Andrie lay, their pace quicker now as the sun climbed higher in the sky. Every minute felt like it was dragging, and as they neared the site, the reality of the situation hit them all over again.
They found his body just as they had left it, the headless form resting beneath a tree, the ground still freshly disturbed from their earlier burial preparations. Mathea's heart clenched as she knelt beside him, the sight of Andrie's body stirring up old memories—of the boy who had saved her so many times, of the young man who had tried so hard to prove his worth, even when it cost him everything.
"I'll make sure we don't lose you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The group worked swiftly, Jea laying down the plant at the base of the grave, carefully surrounding the body with the magical plant. As they did, the air around them seemed to grow still, the silence pressing in. Mathea's heart was pounding in her chest as she watched Jea finish the final steps. The plant's petals began to glow faintly, the violet light shimmering like an ethereal halo.
"That should do it," Jea said, brushing her hands together, stepping back from the grave. Her voice was soft, but there was a quiet hope in it. "Now we wait."
They marked the grave with a simple stone, something to mark where Andrie's body had been laid to rest, and sat down beside it to rest for the night. The weight of the day's work, both physically and emotionally, was catching up with them. Despite their exhaustion, no one spoke much. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts, the dark forest around them adding an air of somberness to the night.