Trials of a knight

[Rance]

It had been a brave choice, truly, by Phlynn Marion Johnford -- but it was the knightly honor within him, newly birthed, rather than the meager bravery within the boy that had decided it.

He had encountered the black-fleshed elf once before -- once when he'd awakened from the throes of a dreadful dream, if only to find her cooing over him, seemingly *hungry* for him to awaken. The child had chased her from the Broken Dagger with fire-iron wielded ... had not caught up with her only for how a bare foot had caught itself in a rut of the road.

The boy had known right then, whether it be by internal prejudice, or by pure empathy, that he hated her.

A second time, Charintha had shown herself ... wielding blasphemous cat-o-nine, musing desire for the boy to follow her to her haven. Phlynn had adamantly refused, but only until Cecily had taken it upon herself to intervene, and was set reeling with a vicious slice to her forearm. When it was not shed by his own hands, the boy could not stand such needless violence, and it was with bile in his throat and fear in his words that he'd adamantly agreed to accompany the dark elf to wherever she might take him.

.. "I-.. I'll go, you j-.. just promise never to come back!" The child had demanded, and if only he'd known how useless promises from dark lips were.

Hands bound, ankles wrapped, and eyes covered, she led him to her threshold.

Phlynn Marion Johnford had insisted she not cover his eyes, yet, she had done so regardless. Suddenly, the boy had not thought it such a bad idea. What horrors brewed in her mind?

Phlynn quite enjoyed the pride and title of a knight, but right then, while she carried him away from the Broken Dagger, he wondered just what kind of fool would have *ever* decided to take on the role. Was knighthood synonymous for martyrdom? Or was it merely an analogy for stupidity?

Either way, the claw-fingered child feared what awaited him at the black elf's hands.