William smirked and said, "And what if I refuse?"
He wasn't entirely sure what kind of creature this toad was. It could speak, which meant it wasn't an ordinary magical being, perhaps something more. Magical creatures with intelligence usually had the hand of witches behind them, but this one didn't seem related to any witchcraft he knew. No, this toad felt different, native to the Misty Forest, not something conjured or bound by outside forces.
But what did "Bringer of the Mist" mean?
"You wave goodbye to life and step into the world of death," the Toad Prophet croaked in response, its voice thick with foreboding.
Without another word, the toad faded back into the mist, vanishing as quietly as it had arrived.
William stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where the toad had been. Then, something caught his eye; a deep blue flower. Its petals shimmered like ice crystals, the air around it swirling with a soft, ethereal mist.