He rode on his horse in the moonlight. The lonely road led to the desolate village where he had been dreading to go. Pipe in his mouth, he contemplated deeply what he’d done for months. Now with the potion nice and snug in his satchel, he had garnered the will to finish what he’d started. Too long had he delayed to complete the duty he was sworn to do. No matter who the target was. Those who carry the symbol of a flame on the chest on their tunic must carry out their mission. There are never exceptions.

The village was cloaked in darkness. None of the buildings with lanterns or torches lit inside them, except one. Yet, he knew it was the apothecary that sat on the outskirts of the village. Alchemists were notorious for burning the midnight oil and concocting their different potions. 

While most alchemists were honest, diligent, and indispensable to the people of the community, many were targets for dark magic. Corrupted into doing the duties of the malicious. Rarely was anyone threatened into engaging with dark magic but the temptation was alluring. The power was often too strong and the will too weak to resist. As the prizes of wealth and power within the dark circles overpowered many.

The man rode right on up to the apothecary and hitched his horse. Thankfully, nobody had woken up on his ride through the village. The only noise was that of his gentle breathing.

He grabbed some more tobacco from the saddlebag and put it in his pipe. While smoking thoughtfully, he walked up to the apothecary’s porch, leaned on the wall, and smoked. A tear escaped his eye as he looked down at his sheath, and then another tear rolled down his face as he peeked into the lit room inside.

From his view, the inside seemed empty. For a moment, he was tempted to leave and come back later. 

Immediately, the man scoffed at himself for his cowardice. He had delayed for far too long. 

After a deep sigh, he turned to his side and tossed his empty pipe onto the ground. The door creaked as he opened it and stepped inside.

The apothecary was modest, with only a few wooden chairs near the walls and a countertop. The entire building was no more than two rooms, and the entirety of it was built out of sturdy wood. And behind the countertop sat a shelf with dozens upon dozens of unique potions all of different colors and of different effects on those who drank them.

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The alchemist was a man in his thirties but a good deal shorter than the man who’d just entered. Through sheer luck, he’d been given wits over strength and had utilized his mind effectively. The alchemist was facing the shelf and called back, “It’s quite late but I got a potion if you’ve got stomach issues keeping ya from sleepin’.” 

“I’m not here for that.” the man choked.

Recognizing the voice, the alchemist turned around and immediately identified the flame insignia, and then met the man’s eyes. “It’s over, isn’t it?”

The man nodded. Another tear ran down his cheek.

“There’s no way, you can’t give me another chance? Maybe I could stop if there was a way, I could….” The alchemist knew the consequences of dark magic were about to be reaped.

With steady hands, he pulled the potion. “I want you to drink this.” He tossed the potion to the alchemist, he glanced down at it once caught.

“Spiritual potion? You think I have a chance to make it to heaven?”

“I want you to have a chance to be with Mom and Dad. Maybe sooner rather than later, we could be together again. I loved you and I still do.”

Tears were now flowing down both their faces as they stood staring at each other. Equal men who shared the same upbringing. They both even shared some features as they had the same eyes their father had, bright blue eyes which seemed to shine in the light. 

He drank the potion and tossed the vial onto the ground, shattering on impact. “You have a job then, so be the bigger brother and finish it.”

They both stepped towards each other and at first shook hands. But the man instead hugged his little brother. Both embraced for a long while in complete silence. 

Their brotherhood was coming to an abrupt close.

Once they finished, the man stepped back and unsheathed his sword, and took in a deep breath. His little brother choked out, “I love you.”

The man put a hand on his shoulder. “I love you too.” He plunged his sword through the heart of the alchemist. A small sigh escaped him as he dropped to the floor. Blood began to pour out around him. For what felt like an eternity, he just stared down at his little brother dead on the floor.

He couldn’t bear to see his brother dead on the floor any longer. He looked up towards the wall and spotted a lantern on the wall. Moving quickly he went to it, grabbed it, and then tossed the lantern onto the floor. A fire sprung up from the oil and shattered glass spread along the wooden floor. His little brother would be engulfed by the flames. Without saying another word, he turned his back to the flame and headed out the door.

Torches and lanterns still hadn’t been lit in other buildings. Seizing the moment, he got on the horse and galloped away as fast as he could. Shouts and voices emanated from the village as they realized a building was on fire. Not for one moment did he stop riding, weeping as he disappeared into the night.

FIN