Chapter 3:

The sun had well and truly set as Alfyn made his way from the orphanage and toward the inn, of which seemed to be located on the other side of town. Thankfully his salve appeared to have done the trick in settling the kids, lowering the fever enough for them to find comfort in sleeping. He had actually spent more time speaking with Henry and Beatrice in order to explain to them what he had done and what they needed to do should one of the kids' fevers suddenly spike in the night.

Henry was actually quite ecstatic with his preparation and they ended up chatting aimlessly about being apothecaries, and just healing in general. Pretty interesting guy. Certainly, a dedicated apothecary. It was good to see. And Beatrice was very encouraging and supportive.

Their constant praise and compliments were a bit embarrassing though!

Thankfully he had sent Primrose and Ophilia to the inn to rest earlier, so they didn't have to overhear. He was fairly certain that the praise would have them uncomfortable as well.

"Phew, I am beat," Alfyn unintentionally murmured aloud as he idly wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Despite how nicely a spot of mead would be at the moment, he instead decided to head straight for the inn. He wasn't sure what time it was, but was fairly certain that someone would be hunting for him soon. And he didn't feel like being carried over someone's shoulder tonight.

Alfyn was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by the surprising sound of someone singing. Not very well, but they were definitely singing. And if he was correct, they were singing a drinking song.

He glanced down a small alley between two houses to witness a man shuffling along, staggering on every second or third step. He appeared to be the one singing.

He was also very obviously drunk. And probably been that were for a few hours.

Alfyn couldn't help but laugh to himself. "Well now, looks like someone started the evening celebrations early. Been celebrating for a few solid hours, huh?"

The drunkard stopped dead in his tracks and seemed to freeze as he tried to pinpoint his location. or maybe figuring out whether he had actually heard something or not. Soon enough, he turned to look in Alfyn's direction, squinted at him, before a drunken smile spread across his face. And he released a loud drunken laugh.

"Hahahaha, youse got that right," the man uttered through a few drunken hiccups and staggered over to him. "Youse be celebrating too if youse were close to finding the legendary Flower of Life."

Flower of Life? Alfyn was honestly surprised to hear some drunkard speak of a flower that apothecaries the realm over dream of finding. If it existed at all, mind. "Oh?"

Of course, before Alfyn could politely inquire about the man's drunken ramblings, the man struck his foot on a piece of stone that jutted out from the road. Alfyn instinctively reacted by reacting out to catch him, successfully saving the guy from practically swan diving into the ground face first.

"Easy, now. You've certainly had your fill," Alfyn chuckled as the guy slumped against him. He decided that he couldn't let the man continue to wander on his own in such a state. So, he grabbed his arm and flung it over his shoulders. "Why don't ol' Alfyn help you back to the inn?"

Mr Drunkard was thankfully a rowdy, jolly drink. He laughed loudly and patted Alfyn on the chest with his hand. "Youse a good kid. Hey, you wanna hear about the Flower of Life? Can tell ya all about it."

Gripping the guy's wrist tightly so he wouldn't slip, Alfyn decided to entertain the guy by letting him prattle on about whatever. "Alrighty. Here we go. Tell me all about it."

Apparently, the guy didn't need much encouragement. He immediately launched into a drunken chatter about the legendary Flower of Life. Told him all about it. About what it could supposedly do. And, surprisingly, where it supposedly grew. According to Mr Drunkard, the flower was located in a hidden and mysterious temple just west of the Garden of Unease.

"Ah, so you think it's around here?" Alfyn questioned, thankful to see the inn as it came into view. "Got the celebrations off a little early though, don'tcha think? Maybe you should find it first."

"Naw. Yer got…" he paused for a moment to let out a rather impressive belch. "gotta get the celebrating out of the way."

Again, Alfyn had to laugh as he dragged his new-found friend toward the inn's front steps. "Do you now?"

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Alfyn tightened his grip on the guy's wrist. Ok, here came the either fun part, or difficult one. Time to conquer the stairs.

"Got some stairs coming up, friend, but we can do it. One step. And two. Another one." The guy's foot caught a step, but Alfyn was able to catch him. "Oops, nearly lost you there." Finally, they reached to door. Thank the gods it was open!

Nudging the door open with his foot, Alfyn just had to utter a sigh of relief to be inside. Now the guy could crash anywhere and safely sleep off his hangover.

"And we're here," Alfyn said as he kicked the door shut behind. "So, you got a room?"

The guy muttered and tried to fish around in his trouser pocket as he mumbled. "Two...something or other. First floor. There was a damn bush shrub thing out the window."

Interesting description of a room. Ok, just a few more steps before he can drop him and walk away with a good conscious.

Room number two was on the first floor, and rather close to the reception desk, which was surprisingly unmanned at the moment. Oh well, can't be helped. Thankfully the room was also unlocked, so ol' Mr Drunkard didn't have to fumble for the keys. Alfyn just had to fumble for the door handle instead before he pushed the door open with his foot.

Thankful that the bed was just inside, Alfyn unceremoniously dropped the guy onto it. But he seemed to flop against it thankfully anyway. So, whew, job done!

"Well, I'll leave ya to get some beauty sleep," Alfyn said as he turned to leave.

However, he was startled when something suddenly snared his wrist, pulling him to a stop. He looked down to see that it was a hand that grabbed him, and his drunk friend had rolled onto his side to look at him. Blearily, yet somehow seriously all the same.

"Youse a really good guy," he suddenly said, his face stoic for a long moment before a wide grin suddenly appeared on his face. "I know. Youse can have a copy!"

"Of the map?" Alfyn questioned before he shook his head in amused bemusement when the guy released his wrist and rolled over to his other side where a bag sat. "Why, that's mighty generous of you. You have a few copies then?"

"Lose one, one to replace it," he replied with a surprising amount of clarity as he dug around in his bag. "Nows where's I put it…? Hah!"

Alfyn smiled good naturedly when the guy pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment and shoved it happily on his direction. "Would you look at that," he said as he took his 'gift'.

"Youse...a good kid," he said again before he abruptly fell silent and gave him another rather serious look. "Listen, kid...Beware the ones who call themselves Lord and Lady of Divine Authority."

Alfyn was startled by the man's suddenly clarity once more. He was honestly so taken aback, he wasn't sure on how to respond. "Ahh...?"

The guy continued to stare at him for another few minutes, his eyes surprisingly clear. However, a grin soon slipped across his face and he uttered a laugh as he flopped back onto his bed. "Heh, time for bed for ol' Drunk. Tomorrow, gotta get a searching."

"Ah, yes, of course," Alfyn said as he subconsciously tightened his grip on the map and backed out of the room. "I'll leave ya to get some sleep."

He quickly stepped out into the hallway and closed the door in front of him. Well...that was rather unexpected.

Ahh never mind. Just some jolly drunk. Nothing to get worked up about. Besides, he had better start worrying about which room he was staying in.

Just as that thought appeared in his mind, Cyrus came down the stairs that led to the second floor. With him was Olberic. They appeared to be heading out, though they could have been on their way to search for him.

Cyrus quickly spotted him and gave him a smile. "Ah, Alfyn, there you are."

"Yup," Alfyn greeted in return. "And before midnight so you can't fling me over your shoulder tonight. Sorry, Boss."

The corner of Olberic's mouth twitched into a smile. "I have no doubt that there will be other chances."

Alfyn had to laugh. "You're probably more than right about that."

"Come," Cyrus suddenly urged as he motioned for Alfyn to follow him back up the stairs. "I must speak with you."

Curious, Alfyn nodded and immediately moved to follow. "Sure."

Cyrus led him up the stairs and Olberic followed. Ah so they were heading out to look for him. Good thing he found his way back on his own. He hadn't eaten for a few hours, so he didn't fancy having Olberic's shoulder jabbing into his stomach with each step he took.

"Olberic and I had a brief exploration of the village," Cyrus explained as they reached the top step and paused outside of a room Alfyn assumed was one of theirs. "I must say, the inhabitants of this village are, what would you say, solemn?"

Alfyn felt a frown tag at his lips. "They weren't all sick, were they?"

"I honestly cannot answer that," Cyrus unexpectedly said. "Visibly, they appeared normal to me. Just rather...vacant, I suppose the right term would be. They appeared to walk in a right daze. But there are indeed occupants to this village, despite first appearance."

"They spoke highly of Henry and Beatrice, though, when they did speak," Olberic added, though the frown on his lips gave the indication that he was unsettled. "Their praise was almost word for word, however."

That sounded a little strange…

"We did manage to get some information, though," Cyrus continued. "Apparently, that abandon manor you visited also has its own water supply. Quite unusual, isn't it?"

"Own water source?" Alfyn repeated, baffled. That was virtually unheard of…

"Curious, isn't it?" Olberic said as he folded his arms across his chest. "How is it possible? An underground spring located so closely to another?"

"Those are questions that will have to wait until tomorrow," Cyrus said before he motioned toward the door right behind Alfyn. "You are no doubt tired. And Therion is no doubt waiting for you. So, let us retire for the night."

That sounded like a good idea.

"More than reasonable," Alfyn said with a smile. "Well then, I'll see you gents at breakfast."

"Yes. Hope you have a well-earned rest."

Idly adjusting his satchel on his shoulder, Alfyn opened the door to the room and stepped inside. As per usual there were two beds. And the bed closest to the door was already occupied. Therion appeared to have been lounging on it, arms folded behind his head while his left ankle rested on his right knee.

As Alfyn closed and locked the door, Therion lifted his head up to regard him. "Hmm. Five minutes early, aren't you?"

Alfyn laughed lightly as he stepped toward the unoccupied bed. "I would have been here earlier, actually," he said as he sat his bag down at the foot of his bed and idly rolled his shoulder to release the tension. "But I helped a jolly drunk to his room. How was the pub, by the way? I can't imagine it was too full."

Therion stretched his legs out over his bed. "Pretty empty, actually. Saved for an idiot that kept bellowing about flowers. The same guy?"

"So, you met him?" Alfyn grinned and sat down to take off his boots and ready himself for bed. "Well, as a thanks he gave me a copy of a treasure map."

Therion lifted his head and gave him a sceptical look. "Really now?"

"I'm a tad dubious, myself," Alfyn admitted before he shrugged nonchalantly. "But why not? He's harmless."

There was a sceptical snort from Therion. "So where is this map supposedly leading to?"

Ah, so he was curious!

Alfyn grinned to himself as he pulled back the blankets of his bed and climbed in. "The legendary Flower of Life. Heard of it?"

"Nope."

That probably shouldn't be surprising.

"Shucks, where do I start?" Alfyn murmured as he rested his head in the crook of his arm.

Before he could attempt to explain, however, Therion interrupted him. "How about sleeping first? You can tell me all about it in the morning."

Alfyn Smiled softly, and sleepily. "That actually sounds like a solid plan. Man, I'm beat."

"I can tell…"

"Hm?"

"Nothing."

Settling down under the blankets, Alfyn quickly fell asleep.

… … … … …

Someone gently, yet persistently shaking Alfyn's shoulder was what pulled him from his sleep. He tried to ignore it though and go back to sleep. But whoever had his shoulder was rather persistent.

"Alfyn."

Upon realising that it was Therion that was trying to wake him up, Alfyn uttered a soft mumble and peeled open his eyes. Though his vision was blurry, he was able to easily make out Therion's form as he stood next to his bed.

"Hgn. Huh?" Alfyn murmured as he sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from his bleary eyes. "Did I sleep in?"

"You did," Therion answered with a tinge of concern in his voice. "Primrose saved you some breakfast though."

Therion motioned over to a table the was located under the window. And sure enough, a plate of food was seen. "Shucks, that's nice of her. I must have been more tired than I thought."

Therion simply nodded his head and took a step back to allow Alfyn to throw back his bed sheets and swivel around to sit himself on the edge of his bed. They fell into a comfortable silence after that, Alfyn finishing his breakfast before getting himself presentable for the day, while sat on his own bed and took the time to inspect his knives.

Alfyn mused to himself about what he should do for the day. He'd probably need to return to the orphanage to check on the kids. But there wasn't much else he could do for them. What he needed to do was to find a cure for.

Speaking of a cure, Alfyn's thoughts drifted to the back he was gifted yesterday.

Wouldn't it be nice if that flower was true? It would heal those kids right up!

"So, Therion, still interested in learning about the Flower of Life?" Alfyn questioned with a grin and reached into his bag to poll out that roll of parchment.

"Fine," Therion replied.

He stood up from his bed before he wandered over to Alfyn's. As Therion plopped himself down onto his bed, Alfyn instinctively lifted the parchment from his lap, which allowed Therion to drape his legs over his lap in their place. Once Therion was settled, Alfyn placed the map atop of Therion's legs to continue to study it.

It was always nice when they could relax, especially like this.

"So, what's this Flower of Life supposed to be, anyway?" Therion asked as he folded his arms behind his head to get himself really comfortable.

"Ahh, depends on who you ask" Alfyn said with a slight chuckle. "Supposedly, it can heal any and all illnesses. So, you can imagine an apothecary would love to get their hands on it."

"I can imagine a few people would love to get their hands on it," Therion commented rather dryly.

...Yeah, there were sure to be a few people who would take advantage of the flower for their own gain, huh?

"Still, it'd be real nice if the flower existed," Alfyn murmured as he leaned back against the wall behind him. "Then I could help cure those kids."

"If you can't, then neither will some flower."

Alfyn had to smile. "Shucks, Therry."

"Don't call me that."

Alfyn chuckled but said no more. Simply allowed his head to loll back to rest on the wall as well, and closed his eyes. Just a few more moments like this before he returned to his apothecary duties.

He needed to help find a way to cure and help those kids. What if they were really turning to stone? Imagining them ending up like those eerie status at that unnerving garden? Their faces permanently twisted into expressions of pain and suffering.

...wait…

A loud, ear piercing scream suddenly tore through the inn. Alfyn sat up straight, his eyes wide as Therion leapt off the bed, knife in hand. The sound of doors slamming, both open and closed echoed, followed by the sound of rushing footsteps.

"The hells was that?" Alfyn questioned as he pushed himself off the bed.

Therion didn't immediately respond. "Tch," he finally uttered. "Too early for this shit."

As Therion headed for the door, Alfyn promptly followed, wondering if he should grab his own weapon. But decided against it as everyone else was likely to have theirs. Instead he reached for his satchel and donned that instead. His companions should be able to handle any battles, he'd be more useful in case someone was injured.

Rushing out of the room and down the stairs, they found the rest of their travelling companions. Cyrus appeared to be speaking seriously with both Olberic and H'annit. The two suddenly nodded, turned on their heels and dashed quickly toward the entrance.

A few yards away from said front entrance were Primrose, Ophilia, and Tressa. And they appeared to be huddled around and ultimately comforting a young woman in the clothing of a maid. No doubt she was the house-keeper, or perhaps even innkeeper. And she was clearly distressed.

"Cyrus?" Alfyn questioned as he and Therion quickly, but cautiously made their way to where the scholar stood in front of the open room, of which appeared to be the epicentre of what was occurring. "What happened?"

Wait, that room…?

Cyrus' expression was grim as he tilted his head toward the room. "It appears as though the housemaid had stumbled across a rather...unfortunate scene."

Alfyn glanced into the room and felt his heart drop into his stomach. The man, Mr Jolly Drunkard, was…dead. Obviously so. P-pinned to the wall of his room with a sword to his chest. Blood splattered around him, dripping to the floor, pooling at his feet. His eyes…were wide and vacant. Mouth open as if in surprise…

"No..." Alfyn whispered.

"What?" Therion questioned as he peered into the room as well.

"I was...just talking to him last night!" Alfyn explained as he finally tore his gaze away from the terrible sight, his stomach lurching at the thought of what he had endured before…he died. "I helped him to the inn. Too drunk to walk straight. Who would...?"

Gods, he hoped that it was quick. For his sake…

"It's clear to see that we have a murder mystery on our hands," Cyrus said. "On top of that mysterious plague of yours."

Alfyn swallowed hard at that. "Y-yeah…"

Just what was going on here?