Natha stared at the druid he just caught, who was trembling like a leaf from a nightmare assaulting him from nowhere. From how it looked inside the druid's mind, however, Natha felt like this one had been living in a perpetual nightmare anyway.
Was Amarein said it was the Prince? The only remaining Prince from the fallen kingdom--aside from Valen--was the King's brother, Valen's great-uncle.
Natha glanced at the side; a leftover firepit, remnants of roasted meat from last night, and a pile of grass and hay beneath a thin, worn-out hemp blanket. The druid himself wore the same worn-out clothes, albeit clean--probably because he had been camping near the water. His trembling figure was not dirty, even if the unkempt hair and beard made him look like he belonged in a shady alley of the empty region.
Who would have thought, that this homeless-looking druid was the last remaining royal blood who had ever lived in the druid palace.
