Except for bickering with flames, the night before was relatively uneventful.
When morning came, he continued his journey to Singayn, which seemingly has already taken longer than expected. He has already even forgotten how long he has been in that wilderness. Still he needed to get there, even if he’s alone.
He remembered having a companion a few days ago. He was the one who knows the way to Singayn. They were supposed to journey together. That was before a forest shadow got his friend.
He doesn’t know how long he had let his mind wander, but it was long enough to lead him to a place where arrows seem to point to everywhere at once. He sensed something wrong about the signs, but he dismissed it as an effect of hunger. And so he followed the sign that led to Singayn.
The road was chaos; it was as if five hurricanes decided to make it a playground.
But Singayn itself looked more disaster-stricken: it was as if chaos and her family decided to live there.

“Talk about entropy,” he muttered.

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