The Way of All Flesh

Chapter Six

The knight didn't speak another word as they walked. He never asked where they were going, what she wanted with him, why she hadn't just brought him to Sallon to be executed. And she didn't push him. She simply let the two of them walk in silence. The knight's sword hung in her belt, but she hadn't needed to use it. He walked with his own fruition, keeping the same steady pace.

He had taken the statuette back, having tucked it away into his own belt after furiously cleaning the mud from all the crevices in the metal. Naomi didn't know much about the Alchemists, or the goddess they worshipped so dearly. It wasn't a topic that was regularly discussed. To some of the older residents of Cantien, even the slightest mention of the Alchemists brought upon anger and scolding. Nobody wanted to speak about the persecution, the elimination, the extinction. And now, walking just behind her, eyes planted firmly on the backs of her heels, was one of them. A man who simply shouldn't exist.

In what felt like no time at all, the little amount of light that crept into the forest had begun to dwindle. It now had a soft orange hue. The low winds of sunset had begun, and, trying her best to not appear frightened, Naomi picked up her pace.

When at last she spotted the clearing in which sat the farmhouse, the sky above had lit up in a golden orange.

She watched as the knight turned his vision to the house. In the golden light, he appeared exhausted, deep lines circling his almond eyes. Still, he said nothing, just looked across the walls and windows with a furrowed brow.

For a split second, Naomi felt bad for him. Whatever the elf and her people had planned for him, it couldn't be good. But, she supposed, it was better than death. Or torture. Or whatever horrors the king set in place for any Alchemists who escaped the purge. It had to be terrible, and he had to know it. That was the only reason he would've become as complacent as he had. He was afraid.

But, she thought as her hand drifted to the hilt of the sword at her hip, he was also a King's Knight.

In one swift motion, she pulled the sword from her belt, pointing it at the knight's armored chest. He staggered slightly backwards in shock, almost falling on the forest's twisted floor. Naomi put her finger to her lips, urging the knight to be quiet.

Then, in an action that seemed to shock the man, she turned the sword around, facing the hilt towards him.

"Inside that building is a group of bandits," she said, keeping her voice at a low whisper. "Along with a man I would like to keep alive. I need you to help me get rid of the bandits, then we'll both be free,"

The knight looked at her with a shocked expression, his eyes wide in confusion. Then, in a silent movement, he grabbed hold of the sword. He gave her a small nod. Without exchanging another word, Naomi turned her attention back to the house. She hadn't gotten a good look at another member of the elf's clan, and slowly it dawned on her that even with the aid of the knight, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. They could be stronger than she could even imagine, perhaps even having a knight of their own. It was possible, she simply had no clue if her attempt would be fruitless. But she was going to try, not for any moral or noble reason, but simply to ensure that she made it through alive. There was no chance she'd let herself die to a wood elf.

Upon reaching the pearl white door, stained with mud running up the bottom, Naomi's hand hesitated before the handle. With a silent reassurance to herself, she opened it.

The two were faced with a completely empty room. The whole house seemed utterly still and pristine, as if it were a dollhouse. Nothing appeared to have been messed with or moved to somewhere it didn't belong, each piece of furniture sitting neatly in a spot it looked like it had been in for years. Not at all the kind of house you'd expect to be the camp of bandits.