The night sky was clear. The green moonlight spilled
across the low hills of Halavard, turning the white grass the color of pond
scum. The few nocturnal creatures that normally prowled the dark were ensconced
in their burrows, avoiding the selenotropic fragrance of the black lotus. When
the moonlight touched its purple petals, it expelled the inky mist from which
it drew its name. The deadly miasma dispersed between the hills, but didn’t
settle there. A light breeze pushed the black cloud into the plains and towards
the small town of Ekerad where the residents had recently gone to bed.
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