The Way of All Flesh

Chapter Eight

Days had gone past by the time they spotted something that wasn't the endless ocean of trees, having taken short breaks along their travels to rest. The small crop of buildings before them was barely a village, most likely not even marked on any official maps of the area. In a small, fenced off cropping of buildings sat a worn-down looking mill, what appeared to be a stable, a few small houses, and an inn that seemed to double as an outpost for local hunters.

Naomi couldn't see any reason why a hunter would travel so far out on the road. They were a good distance from Sallon, and most likely far from whatever real village came next along the Western Road. And yet the building seemed to call to those daring enough to venture deeper into the woods in hopes of finding the game said to roam the most desolate reaches of the forest.

She hadn't planned on stopping before the next village, but as soon as the buildings came into view her feet began to ache for rest. Just minutes before, her head had begun to spin again, causing each step she took to feel like a dizzying twist of her legs. Without a map, there would be no telling how far until they found somewhere to stop again. And, exactly as she predicted, the storm had caused the ink of her map to spill across the page in an incomprehensible mess. She prayed that the outpost would sell one, and that it would be cheap. The little gold she carried would, hopefully, be enough for something that small.

"We stop here," she announced, and she could feel the gratitude from the tired party around her.

As they approached the small inn, Helenia hesitated at the door. Dima seemed to stand uncomfortably next to her, both of them eyeing the door. Their feet seemed to sway unevenly, as if they weren't stable on the ground.

"What is it?" Ash asked, causing Naomi to stop as she moved to enter.

Dima looked around at the small houses, tracing each window for movement. She didn't speak, but a grim unease covered her features.

"You all go in," Helenia said softly. She waved her hand as if preemptively dismissing any objections that would come. "Places like this-" she paused as if searching for the words, "Don't like people like-" she gestured to herself.

Naomi understood. She had seen the hostility from the innkeeper's wife in Sallon, and from the townsfolk after the storm. Helenia didn't seem keen to admit it fully, but she was afraid. It was obvious by the way her hands were shaking ever so slightly, as if she were caught out in the cold. But the air was light, and the breeze that morning was warm. Yet, Naomi couldn't help but notice the way she was trembling like an unstable branch.

Dima nodded to her.

"Just go, what do you need us for in there? It's not like we have any gold." She crossed her arms. Naomi considered for a second that she was hiding the same soft trembling.

She shook her head. "And how can I trust you won't just run off? I'm not an idiot. If they try to kick you out I'll have Sylvester show his sword in their face. Does that satisfy you?"

The knight shifted uncomfortably at the suggestion.

"Whatever you wish, I guess," Dima said, her tone dismissive. "But if they cause a stir, it's your head, princess,"

The nickname made Naomi's blood boil, but she didn't react. She knew it was what Dima wanted, to get her into a frenzy so she would let her stay outside. The more time she spent with the elf, the more Naomi realized every word that came out of her mouth was just to get a reaction from those around her. It was easier, they all seemed to be beginning to realize, to just ignore her. Or, if they had to, dismiss whatever attention she seemed to so desperately crave.