Heyo, this is my first fanfiction on Octopath Traveler Fanfic, and probably one of the first Octopath Traveler Fanfiction's total. It's only a one shot, but I think it'll be okay. Also, it's centered on Primrose's path in the Demo, so if you haven't played that path than spoiler-alert.
The burning light of the raising desert sun over the horizon burned on her back as she walked on the last of the moon's rays across the warming sand. She had been stopped by a figure most putrid, one who she had hoped to leave without confronting, and had finally put an end to his wretched existence. But it had come with a cost. She had no time to dwell on that now though. She had to find the her nemesis, or else the sacrifice of the girl was in vain.
As she walked more briskly in pursuit of the one she sought vengeance on, her sandal became caught on a rock, and Primrose fell down, scratching her leg on the sharp outpost. She realised how long she had gone without water, at least seven hours if not more. She realised she needed to stop briefly to catch her breath and drink, before she got any more damaged, or else she would not be able to face her foe when he was caught. She looked down at her sandal, and realised the toe-strap was broke. As perspiration graced her lips from the water canteen, she began fixing her sandal as best she could.
Of course, it wasn't really her sandal, now was it. No, the sandal belonged to Yusufa. Who was dead. Her only friend's blood was on her hands No. It was all her fault No stop that. Why, she couldn't stop her own father's death either You can't think this and death just seemed to follow her around like a dog chasing a mangy cat SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!
Primrose stopped, closed her eyes, and counted to ten. She focused on her breathing, and relaxed her body. Then she begun to follow rationally back through her own thoughts.
She was only a little girl when her father died, and no amount of training would have allowed her to take on those three men that night. Even attempting to would have been suicide. Yusufa had chosen to help her out of her own volition. If she had stayed then she would have lost her chance to avenge her father's death, and not only that would still be stuck in that dirty, grimy, hell-hole tavern. She would have probably been stuck there for the rest of her life. It wasn't Primrose who had sliced Yusufa's throat, letting the blood drip onto the desert sand, a crimson red on sparkling gold. It had been Helgenish, that disgusting swine, who Primrose had killed with her own hand, along with his underlings, who were paid in more than money, with perks from the dancers.
She couldn't blame herself for the past. All she could do was try and ensure justice happened in the future. And this started with finding the man who killed her father.
Primrose looked up into the twilight sky, and reflected on those last words. Of Yusufa's terrible childhood. Of the fact that in her whole life she had only one friend, and it had been her. Primrose didn't deserve such an honour. Yusufa didn't deserve such tragedy. A golden heart like hers deserved only the finest of wealth, and only the kindest people. Not beautiful people. Primrose knew beauty was only skin deep, but ugly was to the bone. Yusufa was good inside and out.
As she stared at the stars with the sun on her shoulders, the bright white moon falling over the horizon, a single tear fell from her eye. She had not cried in years. Not since that day. And she could not afford to now. Not when she needed to cross a desert. She hoped Yusufa had found a home somewhere beyond the stars, where her soul would receive the luxuries it deserved. A rough knot had fixed her toe-strap. Seeing that she could take a shortcut in her path, she turned to face the dawn, chasing the light of justice ahead and leaving the desert behind her.