At the same time, on the other side of the stream. A ball of mud ran through the forest, pushing through small gaps between the lichen-draped trees all around it.

The mud ball continuously wiped at its face and spat, trying to get the dirt and rotting chunks of dead trees from its mouth.

“Bleh. Why did that hill have to be so damn steep?”

Roth had continued rolling all of the way to the bottom, only managing to stop himself just before the stream. When he got up, he seriously debated just jumping into the waters to try and wash some of the mud ball off of himself, but he knew with the current temperatures that it would be a death sentence.

“Besides, I don’t have time. I don’t know how long that thing will be preoccupied with Holl… it definitely wasn’t Bindon in control there.”

Brushing off as much mud as he could, Roth continued wading through the forest until he came to a spot with four trees all bunched up together. The gaps in their trunks were netted and blocked by lichen, but Roth still approached them. If he was in a regular forest, in a regular situation, he definitely would’ve shied away from a tree looking like this.

I haven’t seen anything else alive on this island… and I really need to get my stuff cleaned off before I start freezing to death. Mud definitely won’t be as good of an insulator as my wool jacket.

Brushing aside some of the lichen, Roth hefted himself into the small gap between two of the trunks. There was just enough space inside to accommodate the fit young man, and he even had enough room to shift around a bit.

After rearranging the lichen to completely cover up his hiding spot, Roth slowly started brushing the rest of the mud off, wincing as his hands lightly pressured his battered skin. Even with the cushioning provided by a heavy leather winter coat, tumbling down an entire hill was sure to leave some marks.

He’d managed to tuck his head in while rolling down, but he could feel bruises almost everywhere else on his body as he moved his hands around.

If I hide, I might stay safe for a while… but I’ll never know if there is a ship passing by. It’ll be impossible to escape from this place if I just stay in here.

Roth pulled his backpack off and hugged it to his chest.

I might be done for.

His fatigued eyes started to drift shut, even as he tried to brainstorm ways out of his situation. Over the past few days, he’d hardly slept at all. The storm they sailed through before reaching the island was incredibly dangerous and stressful, and Roth only netted a few hours of rest the first night on the island.

Now, it was well past midnight, and he hadn’t caught even a wink of sleep.

Even while bundled up between the four mossy tree trunks and hidden by layers of lichen, Roth still didn’t feel safe, but it was certainly better than earlier.

At least now he wasn’t sleeping by the side of someone who was likely possessed by something.

Maybe being alone in the dark isn’t as bad…

Roth’s thoughts trailed off as his eyes sealed shut, and his breathing quietly slowed in the night.

A few hundred meters away, a shadowy figure dashed through the woods, the hanging trails of lichen blown up by the inhumanly quick figure. As it reached the vicinity of Roth’s location, though, it paused.

“There is something happening up on the hill… it looks like Feather really did wake up again. Hih. That’s fine. There should still be a fourth one.”

Bindon tilted his neck back and forth, creating cracking noises.

“This trickster’s story, it might have some merit…”

Bindon’s distorted chuckle rang through the forest as he looked around.

“I wonder, am I the rain, or is he?”

-

-

Shadowed dull gray light greeted Roth’s eyes as he slowly awakened.

Where… ah. I remember everything that happened.

The gravestones, Bindon’s unnatural actions, and rolling down a steep hill. The final one was what Roth was feeling most, sleeping had given him plenty of time to develop some bruises.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Roth started looking around his small hideout now that it was bright enough to see at least something, and the first thing that caught his attention was the map poking out of his backpack.

Crap! It got covered in mud!

Roth knew just how bad moisture was for old sheepskin, and the top portion of the map was veritably plastered in the island’s damp mud.

I even left it to sit like this for an entire night!

Roth hurriedly rubbed at the mud, praying that the ancient map wouldn’t be too heavily damaged. Unlike how it stuck to his leather jacket, the mud on the map easily came off with a few strokes from his hand, and the sheepskin beneath it looked just as fine as before.

There wasn’t even any discoloration, even as Roth turned it over and looked at the inside.

How…

When he saw the inside, though, he remembered the map’s recent changes. If this map could wipe its own content away and force him to draw stuff that he had no knowledge of, why wouldn’t it be able to withstand a tumble and some mud?

The map looked just like it had the previous time he saw it, with only one exception. The spot by the river he drug his finger over previously now had a slight curve in it, perfectly matching the changes he’d seen in real life.

It actually did alter the island!

A grin started to form on Roth’s face, but he quickly realized that it probably didn’t matter too much here. How exactly was he supposed to deal with Bindon using this?

Maybe there would be some effects if he somehow managed to move stuff around in the exact position his crewmate was standing in, but even that would be nearly impossible.

Unless he caught him while he was asleep, it didn’t really sound feasible.

Taking out an old sheepskin map mid-chase, then altering a chunk of land directly where the chaser would run?

It already sounded nearly impossible, and it wasn’t even guaranteed to have any effects.

So that’s a no-go. The only other thing I can think about is trying to draw some other object into the map that might help me… but that might be impossible.

The island itself took up only a portion of the visible map. Even if Roth tried to draw a boat onto it, the ship would likely be way too large to be useful.

Well, I might as well update it for now. We did walk pretty far last night, so seeing the updates might be able to help me figure out where to move next.

Roth reached into his backpack and took out his map pen again. When the writing utensil got close to the paper again, it automatically started moving with his hand to sketch the areas he walked in. A small trail leading up an incline, lined by a row of trees. It wasn’t much added, and it didn’t even include the graveyard at the top.

Why is it so little? It did the same earlier… only sketching the area I walked in. I could see way further from the top of the campsite hill.

Roth frowned as he continued observing it.

I didn’t notice this before, but some of the waters just off the edge of the island have the same red tint on the map as the stream, though it isn’t as intense. The area around the stream is a lot less red right now, too.

Roth’s hand brushed against the map’s surface as he examined it, and his heart jumped as he expected it to shift the island and cause him to faint again.

Instead… the map moved.

The island, all of the trees- everything on it- shifted a few centimeters to the side.

Did I just move the entire island?!

Some more rational parts of Roth’s mind quickly refuted that- he hadn’t noticed anything in real life, so he doubted that was the case.

He tentatively lowered his hand to the map again, pressing against it with two fingers and moving them around. Once again, the entire island shifted according to the motion of his hands, and the size of it even changed a bit. Pushing his two fingers apart, the island exploded in size until it covered the entire sheepskin scroll.

All of the proportions of the details and the trails he’d taken remained the same as before.

I don’t think I’m making the map any bigger… am I just changing how I’m looking at it?

Roth zoomed in all of the way on himself, and when he did, he could even see the positions of all of the trees around where he’d walked.

This… this is awesome! It’s so much better than a normal paper map, I’m sure the captain would die to have a map like this!

Roth dragged his two fingers over the map again, moving his view over to the position of the graveyard. The details on the map ended right before the top, right where Roth had stopped walking.

But I could still see up there… I wonder if I can draw in the details myself.

Grabbing his pen again, Roth estimated the distance away the gravestones had been and started drawing little icons for them. After drawing the first row- he could only faintly see that there were more, but not their exact positions further than that- he stopped drawing and leaned back.

Almost all of the details he’d just drawn stuck. The ink seemed to shift around a bit on some of the gravestones, and the furthest few that he’d tried to draw faded away completely.

I can! It looks like anything that isn’t close to perfect gets washed away, though.

When he closed his two fingers again to zoom out, the icons were minimized into little marks on the map, and Roth had a new idea.

With the map zoomed out so that he could see the entire island, he drew in the same details on the top of the graveyard hill, then also sketched in some of the landscape on this side of the stream that he’d seen from on top of the campsite hill.

When he finished, pretty much everything stayed, but a faint sense of fatigue washed over him.

I get it! I completely understand!

The grin on his face couldn’t help but falter a bit as he looked at the graveyard hill. The same cloudy red lines he saw on the stream were present there too, and in much higher quantities. He’d only sketched a tiny portion of the hilltop, but the redness there still easily overpowered the stream. It even reached down toward where he had been standing at the top of the hillside.

I get the feeling, that isn’t goo-

Knock!

The sound of knuckles on wood interrupted Roth’s thoughts.

“Hello there, kiddo~”

A disturbing, off version of Bindon’s voice echoed inside Roth’s little hideout.

“Pretty cool little hidey-hole you’ve got here. I wouldn’t’ve found you if not for these footprints.”

Shit! It’s already here!

“Ehem… Bindon, could you let me rest here for a bit?”

“Haha! I’m not Bindon, and I’ve been waiting a bit too long. Come out now, kiddo.”