The glade was still and silver under the light of the waxing moon. I moved carefully between the ferns, basket in hand, searching for the faint blue glow of the Bell-o-Dale flower. It blooms only under moonlight, its many petals wide open for a few short hours before it folds away into silence with the dawn. I had come to this hidden grove deep within the the woods of North Ithilien, guided by a map given to me by a traveling herbalist from Lothlorien. He had claimed the Bell-o-Dale grew near streams in the valley and that its essence could be used to make an elixir that calms the spirit and sharpens the senses.
I was determined to find it. I had failed once before, in a different glade farther south, where I mistook the silver-edged lightfern for the true flower. The extract I brewed from that misidentification had put a poor fox into a deep and troubling sleep. It had taken days of care and Radagast’s guidance to wake him properly again. I still feel the shame of that mistake.
Tonight, I would not fail.
After an hour of searching along a slow stream bordered by mossy stones, I saw it. A single Bell-o-Dale nestled beside the water, glowing softly as if it had caught a shard of starlight. I knelt and gently plucked three of its petals, leaving the flower intact. There is no need to take all when three will do.
Back at my camp, I worked in silence beneath the moon. The elixir required careful mixing with crushed night-thistle root and a drop of dew gathered from moonlit leaves. I stirred slowly, watching the mixture swirl between silver and midnight blue. When it was done, I poured the liquid into a small phial wrapped in leather and marked with a crescent symbol.
The next morning, I tested it myself. I took only a small sip, enough to gauge its effects. My thoughts cleared like mist rising from a morning lake. My heartbeat slowed, and my senses opened as if the world itself breathed more deeply. Birds sang in richer tones. The wind moved with meaning. I felt closer to the forest than I had in weeks.
I have named it the Elixir of Moonlight and Shadow. It is not for combat, nor for healing wounds, but for those moments when one must listen to the world and understand what lies unseen. I will share it only with those who move quietly, who value stillness and insight above speed or strength.
And though I succeeded this time, I will always remember the fox and the lesson he taught me. That even in the wilds, with all our knowledge, there is room for humility. For failure, and for growth.