#fallen feathers

The very things John had sworn to protect, the very reason he was on this hill in the first place. He was a Commander, a third-rank Knight sent out to protect the village. His village. The place he’d grown up, the place he devoted his life and servitude to. 

A monster lived in the forest, he was told. The King ordered him to find and slay the monster. So, John turned away from the village, and headed into the forest.

He used his sword to cut through the thick brush, heading for… well, he wasn’t sure. The King wouldn’t give him a description of the monster- perhaps he didn’t have one. But if he didn’t have one, then was John just chasing a rumor? He had been under the King since he was a boy, it was a little insulting to be sent on a goose chase. 

Slice.

He was a Commander, for God’s sake! A third rank Knight- a position he had worked hard for. And here he was, running around the forest, looking for something that wasn’t even there. 

Slice.

This is a rookie’s task, he figured. Something to keep them busy, to test their loyalty.

Slice.

Perhaps the King was becoming senile in his old age. Or maybe John was just upset at the mission. He saw the way the other Commanders smirked when he was given his task. It was embarrassing, especially after a life of devotion. 

Slice.

The brush cleared away, revealing a secluded area that looked… cared for. He crouched under a branch, keeping his sword at the ready- just in case. A small stream ran near his feet, water as clear as he’d ever seen. There was a garden, and even a house. It looked similar to the Edriel houses, however it was poorly built. Things seemed to be added over time: patches to the roof, new ties for the wood. He studied it carefully, jumping when he heard a noise from inside the house. 

“Who’s there?” a woman asked from inside the house. She sounded human. 

“I am a Commander of Edriel’s army. I am coming in,” he said, sword raised as he opened the door. 

The house was small, just enough for one person. The curtain was closed, engulfing the house in darkness. He could tell she was in the corner, but he couldn’t see her. 

“Open the curtain,” he ordered, his voice coming out gruff. 

“...I’d rather not,” she said quietly, her body pressed against the walls. “I-I am horribly burned, I’d prefer not to be seen.” 

John lowered his sword, putting it back in its sheath. “Yes ma’am,” he said in a much softer voice. It was a foreign feeling. It had been ages since he had spoken so softly. “...what is your name?”

She went quiet, and it sounded as though she was shuffling on her feet. A wave of realization washed over him. He had broken into this poor woman’s home and demanded to see her. She was probably terrified. 

“I am John Price, a proud Knight of Edreil,” he started, hands behind his back as he respectfully tipped his head. After a few moments of silence, she spoke. 

“Adelaide,” she said quietly. 

“Adelaide… what?”

“Just Adelaide.”

A tense silence covered them. He cleared his throat, looking around the house. “..Okay, Adelaide. I apologize for my rude intrusion. If I may… why do you live out here?” he asked.

“People do not stare at me out here. It is peaceful,” she said. “What has you out here?”

He hesitated. His business was embarrassing, but if anyone knew where a monster was, it would be her. He took a breath. “The King has sent me out in search of a monster.”

“A monster?” she asked, voice pitching higher. 

“Do not worry,” he said quickly, raising a hand in front of him. “I will take care of it, you will be of no harm.”

“What does it look like?”

Another pause, this one longer. He let out a low sigh, his chainmail armor clinking as he raised a hand to run through his hair. 

“...You do not know?” 

“...no, ma’am.”

He swore he heard her snort. “What kind of king sends a knight out with no description?” 

He huffed, rolling his eyes. “You’d be a fool to talk poorly of the King in front of one of his knights,” he said dryly.

“Are you going to detain me?” she asked with a hint of amusement.

“I could,” he responded quickly, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He was met with silence, to which he sighed. “Do you know of any monster living around here?” 

“...no. But, I will be weary,” she said to him, any details of emotion stripped from her voice.

He gave her a nod and turned to leave. “Good day, ma’am,” he said, closing the door to her home and going out the way he came. 

As he continued his search for the monster, he thought about her. Was she truly so badly burned that she must live alone? He didn’t remember a fire in the village. 

Perhaps she was from Pulsk? 

No, surely not. Pulsk was a lawless trading post crawling with criminals, monsters, witches- she would not have to move from there, her appearance would not be so bad there. So she must be from Edriel. But he had never heard of a fire that bad- he had never heard of a woman living outside the village. 

How long had she been alone? Who else knew she was there?

~~~~

John was sent out every day for the next week. It seemed he’d be doing this until the monster was found. On the fourth day, he stopped by her area again. 

“Miss?” he called out. He heard a door slam, and saw the curtain in her window close. 

“John?” she asked worriedly. 

“At your service. May I come in? Is it dark enough?” he asked, waiting by the door for her word. 

“Yes,” she called out after a moment. He opened the door, the smell of smoke filling his nose. She must’ve blown out a candle. She was in the same corner as last time. 

The light from the door fell on his face, lighting him up with a glow. He smiled at her, clearing his throat. He shifted a bit uncomfortably on his feet. “How is life out here?” he asked, eyes glancing around as he tried to figure out where to look. 

“Peaceful. Quiet, most days,” she replied. His lips pursed, eyebrows creasing. 

“…Would you like me to leave?” 

“Oh! Oh, I didn’t… I did not mean you,” she clarified quickly. He imagined she looked worried, and he smiled a bit to make her feel better. 

“So, other people visit?” he asked with a grin. 

“Well… no…” she murmured, and he chuckled. It was a deep timbre that reverberated through his chest. 

“Right,” he said. They fell into a silence, and he shifted again. It was difficult having a conversation with someone you couldn’t see. “…do you ever miss the village?” 

He heard ruffling- it must’ve been her clothes. “No. I miss the food sometimes,” she said, watching as he looked around her place. “There used to be a woman who sold pastries. I think about her quite often.” 

He lit up, eyes shining and lips stretched in a smile. “Mrs. Dresel?”

“Yes!” she said, the most enthusiastic he’s ever heard her. “Is she still alive? She was quite old when I last saw her…” 

“Yes, she’s still around. Still making those pastries, too,” he smiled fondly, thinking of them. “I have not visited her in a while,” he thought aloud. 

“Nor have I… for obvious reasons…” she said and the house creaked. John looked around at the roof worriedly. “Oh, it does that,” she said dismissively. 

“…did you build this yourself?” he asked her, eyes scanning over the structure. Pillars of wood, stuck together with what appeared to be mud. The roof was wood planks, with some more mud, and dried straw. Simple, but effective. 

“I did,” she replied, also now looking at it. 

“…it isn’t bad,” he said with a shrug. She let out a laugh. 

“You’re very polite.”

“I’m a Knight.”

She laughed, making his eyes tear away from the roof back to the corner she hid in. He could imagine her, standing there with bright eyes. It made him chuckle. 

“My house isn’t much, but it is mine,” she continued. 

“It’s lovely,” he replied, eyes going back to the structure. “Very impressive.” 

“Thank you,” she replied. “Any luck on finding your monster?” 

He groaned, rolling his eyes. His entire body tensed, lips pressed in a thin line. “No. I’m starting to think the King is playing a trick on me,” he remarked, chainmail clanking. 

“Perhaps he’s gone bad? Like a fruit?” she offered up, amusement clear in her voice. 

“Careful,” he warned, trying not to smirk. “I still work for the man- even if he is a bit mushy.” 

She laughed, a noise that made the corners of his lips turn up. He pictured her shoulders shaking, her smile wide and unapologetic. He wondered how often she laughed out here.

“You’re funny- for a Knight,” she poked, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“D’you have a thing against Knights?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest but a smile on his lips. 

“They haven’t always been kind to me,” she remarked, making his mood change. His arms fell to his sides, and his eyebrows creased as his smile vanished. 

“Then you must’ve been doing something you weren’t supposed to,” he replied with a bit of an edge. A blanket of tension wrapped around her house. 

“…do you take me for a criminal, John?”

He thought in silence for a couple moments, before finally replying. “No, I suppose not,” he muttered, almost begrudgingly. Though, if a Knight had been rude to her, it was likely deserved. “Never mind.”

They fell into silence, the air thicker than the smoky scent of her home. She huffed a bit, more rustling heard. “Don’t you have a monster to catch?” she asked, voice carrying a sharpness to it. 

He cleared his throat, chainmail clunking as he readjusted himself. “Indeed. Have a good day, Miss Adelaide,” he said politely, before turning and leaving her house, door closing behind him. 

Perhaps she was a criminal. Why else would a knight have been rude to her? It would make sense, her living out here by herself. He would have to go through the old town logs, see if the name Adelaide appeared. Though, it might be difficult without a last name. 

He was ducked under the branch again, leaving the area she had claimed. He huffed, wiping the sweat on his neck with his handkerchief. 

What if she wasn’t a criminal? What if she was just horribly burned? He still could not remember a fire that bad- though, if he looked through the logs…