Solomon leaned against the side of a small farm he had found. He was still soaking wet, the wound in his flank hadn't stopped bleeding yet, and he felt exhausted. He took a moment to recall how he had ended up here.
After that pesky Auradonian soldier had bested him in combat, he had jumped off a cliff into the raging river down below. He had just enough energy to quickly perform a spell that would allow him to temporarily breathe under water.
He then swam for a while in the opposite direction, all the while under water, and only came back up when he knew he couldn't be seen anymore from the cliff he had jumped off.
It had then taken him a while to find a suitable place to get back on land. When he finally got back on shore, he was able to tend to his wounds. The cuts in his legs weren't too deep, so he only used a tore of piece of his shirt to bandage them. The wound in his flank was a different story however, the knife on of those assholes had thrown at him was still stuck in his skin. He took a few breathes to ready himself before pulling it out. His following scream must have been heard around for miles. He used the rest of his shirt to make some sort of temporary cast and then headed back up the cliff.
When he reached the top again, it was only a short walk to where he had his fight. He snuck behind some bushes when he neared the turn and readied the dagger he had left. When he looked around the turn, he didn't see anyone however.
Expecting some sort of trap, he slowly walked towards the rickshaw which was still parked at the side of the road. All the soldiers were nowhere to be seen. His second dagger also still laid next to the rickshaw. Solomon could not believe his luck. He quickly grabbed the dagger and got back into the rickshaw, this time not being careful with his vehicle by immediately going full speed.
To his surprise, the rickshaw still managed to hold on for almost two hours before finally giving out. Solomon had tried to look at the engine, but naturally knew nothing of mechanics and was forced to continue on foot.
He had thus walked for nearly another hour through forest and field, with the cauldron in tow, before finding a small farm at the edge of a large corn field.
He was still standing at the side of the farm, trying to decide what to do. He could try knocking on the door. From what he'd previously seen of Auradonians, they'd offer help to anyone. He wasn't sure if the soldiers hadn't raised any alarm in the meantime though, he could be wanted man for all he knew.
He was starting to feel lightheaded from his blood loss and decided to give it a try anyway, he could always just kill the inhabitants if they gave him trouble.
He knocked on the large, wooden door. No answer. He knocked again. Still no answer.
He looked at the farmhouse. There were no lights burning even though it was nearing dusk. He looked through a window and saw a tidy but abandoned living room. Perhaps the inhabitants were on vacation or whatever. He could break in and find out either way.
He kicked in the door and stepped into the house. He took a quick look through the ground floor and saw nothing to indicate the house was currently occupied.
Solomon went outside again to grab the cauldron and its contents and dragged them inside. In the living room he eventually collapsed on a chair.
He took a look at his flank. The shirt he had used as a makeshift cast was drenched with blood. Not wanting to die of blood loss, he stood up and went to the kitchen. He soon found what he was looking for, a first aid kit.
Solomon sat down at the kitchen table and emptied the kit's contents on it. He quickly found what he was looking for, some alcohol, needle and thread and bandages. He spent the next half hour cleaning his wounds and sewing them shut before bandaging himself up again.
He returned to the living room, plopped down on one of the chairs and looked at the cauldron. "All this trouble for a damn kettle." He thought to himself.
He was tired from the eventful day and his blood loss, yet still forced himself to recall what had happened. "Everything was going smooth really." He thought to himself. "I took out the archer and the mage, and three of those soldiers. The ones with the knives and the war hammer had proven to be more of a nuisance, but then there was that guy with the sword."
Solomon had naturally been in many fights throughout his life, anyone on the isle had. He had always been one of the more gifted swordsmen on the isle and he only felt as though his recently acquired magical abilities had amplified his talents. And yet, he had been beaten by an Auradon soldier. He wondered if all Auradonians were such great fighters before realizing that he had bested seven other fighters without too much effort.
One thing about the mystery swordsman also stood out to Solomon. He had thrown a blackstone at him, but it had done no damage. When he had thrown one at the mage, he had fallen to the ground and started screaming. Yet, when thrown at the swordsman, it had done nothing. More so, it had seemed as if the swordsman had simply waved it away.
He shook his head. Focusing on the mystery swordsman wasn't useful for him. He laboriously stood up and went to look upstairs. He found a bedroom with a closet. In the closet he found a shirt he could put on before he let himself stretch out on the bed. It barely took him five minutes to fall asleep.
A bright light woke him up. Solomon blinked and looked around. He had been peacefully laying on a bed, his first cozy night since he had left the isle. The sun was shining through a window to his left, which was the reason he had woken up.
He slowly sat up straight in his bed. He felt the pain from the wounds in his flank and legs, but to his relieve discovered that they were no longer bleeding.
He slowly got up and moved himself to the bathroom, where he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked horrible. He hadn't properly washed or shaved in over two months, and it showed. Feeling quite satisfied with his current hiding place, he decided to freshen up a little.
He shaved, bathed and cut his hair and within an hour he barely resembled the man he was an hour ago.
He then checked the kitchen again and found a pantry full of food. He eagerly chomped some of it down, before plopping down on one of the chairs in the living room again.
He figured to himself that he deserved a little time-out. Ever since he had left the isle he had been on the road non-stop. Always acting towards his goal of finding the cauldron and using it. If he had to be completely honest to himself, he was quite tired and sore. And what effect could one day off have in his master scheme?
And so, Solomon rested. He spent the entire day eating and sleeping, basically regaining lost energy. He also made use of the farmer's television, only to be disappointed when he found out every channel showed nothing but something concerning the private lives of Mal and king baby beast. By watching TV however, he did find out that Mal had been joined by Jay, Carlos and Evie on the side of good. Solomon couldn't help but grin to himself, this would make it a lot easier to rid himself of them, they had betrayed their kind.
After some consideration, Solomon decided to spend another night at the farm. After another peaceful night, he packed up whatever supplies might come in handy, mainly food, and headed out again. He was surprised at how sad he felt to leave the farmhouse, it had been nice to have a place to lay low. If he would manage to find the owners of the farm when he would take over, he would at least thank them before killing them.
When he started to march away from the house, the cauldron tied to his back with some rope he had found, he suddenly noticed a small shed right next to the house.
Mainly out of curiosity, he decided to check it out. When he looked inside after opening the unlocked door, he smiled to himself as a large motorbike stared back at him.