(duplicate chapter )
(Far from the Palace)
Magnar stepped between the trees, his cloak brushing against the damp forest floor. His boots left faint marks on the moss-covered ground, but even the crunch of leaves felt swallowed by the silence. Not even the usual chirp of birds or the rustle of the wind could be heard.
The whirring of a small metal in his palm was the only noise in the dark forest. Fog covered everything, making it hard to see anything.
The small round metal had an arrow that kept rotating. It spun faster in the southern direction.
'Tricky, I see. But I'll definitely get you.'
Magnar stopped in his spot. He looked up, and a drop of liquid fell on his face. His finger brushed off the liquid, rubbing it as if to examine what it was before he brought it to his nose.
He scrunched his nose from the awful smell. The liquid was dark green. "I know that you are close by," he muttered, a sinister smirk forming on his lips.
