Cyrus hadn't been able to sit still since the travelers returned to town. With Morlock dead, the journey through his mansion had been easy enough since even his few loyal guards wound up backing down, seemingly not seeing much of a point in fighting for a dead man. Cyrus had initially yearned for the safety of the inn, hoping that perhaps the simplicity of an inn room would help him to choke down everything that had happened over the course of the last few days. It was incredible just how fast the night changed, and the group's time in Quarrycrest had proven it.

Cyrus had never liked blood. Perhaps that was one reason he had gravitated toward magic as his primary proxy of combat. He had always struggled to lift heavier weapons, but it was a blessing in disguise at the end of the day. He couldn't stand the sight of blood, though he was willing to force his anxieties down in the name of the greater good. Still, he couldn't seem to forget the way blood had fallen to the ground around Morlock and Omar's injuries, and he couldn't tear away the image of Alfyn bloodied and collapsed against the wall either. H'aanit had offered to take care of looking after Alfyn when she realized just how nauseous Cyrus was getting, and the scholar had gladly allowed her to handle the matter. He needed some fresh air, though he doubted any air was going to be fresh enough to keep him from feeling like he was going to be sick at any given moment.

"Cyrus!"

The sound of Odette's voice cut through Cyrus' thoughts immediately, and he turned around to see the blonde woman approaching him. Each step was purposeful and long, like she couldn't even wait the few extra seconds it would have taken her to reach Cyrus at her regular pace. "What in the world did you do?" she asked him softly even though he could tell by the way her expression was set that she already knew the answer.

"I..." Cyrus tried to begin, but the words refused to come the way they should have. He hesitated before sighing. "We fought back against Morlock, and I believe that Quarrycrest will fall into new hands soon."

"I heard about it already," Odette told him with a frown. "Morlock is dead. A few of his guards ran out into the rest of town screaming about how he had been killed. You would be amazed at just how many people started cheering when they heard the news. Morlock did a great job of keeping everyone in this town brainwashed, but now that he's gone, he can't tempt them with false promises anymore."

"How much did you know of him when he was alive?" Cyrus asked carefully. "You've been living in Quarrycrest for quite a while now, so I can only imagine-"

"I know enough about him," Odette assured him with a heavy frown. "He's done too many awful things for me to count, so I'm not going to bother keeping score. He takes advantage of people so that he can stay on top. Well, he took advantage of people. Now, he's not able to do that anymore... Though I do have to ask... Why in the world did you go so far? I didn't think you of all people would ever decide to incite rebellion."

"Morlock was responsible for much more than you know," Cyrus told Odette. "I imagine most of the people who were here in Quarrycrest at the time of his greatest crimes have since moved on specifically because they wanted to avoid him. Those who are here now are no doubt unaware of the truth or too focused on trying to stay afloat that they can't bring themselves to act on their knowledge."

"What are you talking about?" Odette questioned, her words growing tense and heavy. "What do you know that I don't, Cyrus?"

Just like that, it all came tumbling out. Cyrus told her all about the way Morlock had waged war against Saintsbridge in the name of keeping his labor practices for as long as he could. Odette could only stare on in horror as he told her everything he knew about the way Morlock had razed Creek to the ground with Ophilia only surviving because of some vague miracle. It had all happened too fast for anyone to process what was happening until it was too late. Nobody had known Morlock would strike until he had already waged war, and by the time anyone could lick their wounds, he had already been forced onto his back foot. He had been smarter since then, instead just hiding the truth of his actions rather than actually pursuing conflict. He wouldn't be able to win through force of arms, so he used the other weapon he had at his disposal: words. Unfortunately, they were incredibly effective against the people of Quarrycrest who had no way of knowing better that he was lying to them. Nobody had realized what was happening all this time, but now, they didn't need to know. Morlock was gone, and he would never return to the town again.

"Gods above," Odette muttered. "I had heard that he didn't treat his miners the best, but I don't think I could have ever guessed that you were going to tell me he had waged war for the right to treat people like trash."

"I have no idea what will become of Quarrycrest now that he's gone, but I imagine things will become much safer," Cyrus said. "We will probably do all that we can to redistribute his funds across the town before we leave for Victors Hollow. It wouldn't be right to leave all of his leaves to sit there in his mansion when he will no longer be there to spend them. He shouldn't have ever taken that money to begin with, much less maintained his fortune on the backs of others."

"I agree completely. I don't know much about running towns like this, but if you need someone to try and smooth over the transition between government systems, I'll do all that I can," Odette told him. "I know it might not count for much, but I have to do what I can. I never would have thought Morlock had done all of that, and now that I know... Well, what better way to piss him off than to make sure he rolls in his grave? His precious Quarrycrest is out of his control, and nobody is ever going to bow to him again. Nobody ever wants to bow before a corpse, after all."

Cyrus nodded at that, wishing he had more to say. No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't seem to bring himself to concentrate fully on Odette's optimism. Instead, he blinked a few times to try and focus on the circumstances at hand. When he did, images of Morlock and Omar's bodies flashed through his mind. He briefly saw Alfyn still and terrified as he stared up at Morlock and the face of death that towered over him. Cyrus' shoulders went tense before he could fully register what was happening, and he was sure he was going to collapse under the full weight of it all.

Odette's arm wrapped around his shoulders before he could hit the ground though, and she pulled him in a bit closer. "Cyrus?" she probed, and he glanced up at her slowly before nodding to show that he was alright. He would have said something to prove it, but he couldn't seem to make his lips cooperate with him the way he would have liked. "Come on. Sit down."

Odette practically dragged Cyrus off to a bench nearby before forcing him to sit down. She rubbed gentle circles across his back, far more affectionately than Cyrus had ever seen her. He pushed through the massive knot in his throat to nod back at her. "Thank you," he whispered.

For a few heavy moments, neither one of them spoke, unsure of what could even be said to make all of this easier. Odette eventually stopped rubbing at Cyrus' back, and he knew what she was going to say next before she even opened her mouth. "Did anything else happen in Morlock's mansion?" she asked softly.

"Nothing I haven't already told you about," Cyrus assured her. "But... It seems like the last few days have been a greater disaster than anything we could have ever envisioned. The vanishing people were being taken away by a necromancer looking to experiment on them. All of that only happened because of Morlock's negligence and refusal to look after the people who couldn't net him profit. He killed countless people between his labor practices and the war he led on Saintsbridge. Now... All of that is over."

"You can't forget about the people who have died over the last few days," Odette concluded, and Cyrus nodded. Odette sighed before looking up to the skies overhead. "I wish I had a bit more to say about that, but... Well, there's not much to say. You're in a bad situation here, and I don't think there's much to add to that."

"You can certainly say that again," Cyrus agreed softly. He tapped his foot anxiously against the ground below. "We hadn't been planning on taking the fight to Morlock. We had been hoping to find a way to avoid him entirely. After what we saw in the sewers though... We knew that we couldn't just leave things as they were as long as he was willing to let his own people be lured to their deaths beneath the town. I suspect that Gideon chose Quarrycrest as a target because he knew nobody would dare to push back against him here. Morlock had already decided how he wanted the city to run, and he would hardly bother with searching for anyone who went missing."

"And then it all spiraled out of control before you could fully process it," Odette finished. She shook her head loosely. "For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing. I had no idea he was responsible for waging war and destroying an entire town since that would have happened ages before I came to live here. But... I don't want to let somebody like that have the chance to try it again. It happened once, and that's more than enough."

"When he took Ali back to his mansion, it felt like perfect timing. We had been planning for something a bit more protracted, but all of our preparations were for naught in that moment. I was alright with casting aside my plans as long as the day ended the way we were hoping it would, but... Well, it's quite a bit to be burdened with out of the blue," Cyrus said. "I imagine Ophilia will be struggling with this for the rest of her life. Primrose is with her now, but I have an awful feeling about the way everything ended."

Odette nodded with a loose hum. "That sort of thing sticks with you... Though all of us wish that wasn't the case," she murmured. "At least you're all there for one another. As far as I'm concerned, that's the most important thing."

"Thank you, Odette," Cyrus told her. "I... I cannot say what came over me a few moments ago, but I'm relieved you were here to help me through it."

"Maybe it was the trauma that came with the disaster of the last few days. It's not like your time traveling up until now has been particularly favorable either. Between the brigand attacks, scum of the planet, and magical artifacts, something was bound to break eventually," Odette pointed out. "I'm glad I was able to help though. I would tell you to stay out of trouble from now on to avoid something like this happening again, but I think we both know it's not going to be that simple."

Cyrus let out a small laugh at that, but he paused when a new thought occurred to him. He looked up to meet Odette's gaze. "I have to wonder, Odette... When you heard of what happened to Morlock, how did you immediately know that we were involved?" he asked.

"Oh, please," Odette snorted. "You really think that something like that could happen without you being involved? Morlock has been a thorn in everyone's sides for well over fifteen years now. The fact that he went down almost immediately after you arrived told me everything I needed to know. Something was going to break with him soon, and I'm glad you were the ones who caused it instead of leaving the burden to someone else."

"I can only hope we did not disappoint then," Cyrus said with a dark smile.

Odette thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "We'll just have to see where Quarrycrest goes from here before I can make my judgement," she told him, though he knew she was just teasing. She reached up and rustled one hand through his hair, a familiar gesture that had Cyrus rolling his eyes anyway. "But I think you've done good, Cyrus. Much more good than anyone could have ever expected."

Cyrus just smiled at her. "Thank you, Odette... Thank you."

Olberic hadn't been able to relax since the battle against Morlock.

No matter how much he tried to think himself through it, Olberic just couldn't seem to release the pressure in his shoulders. There was always something holding him back, a stranglehold on his mind and body he couldn't seem to escape from no matter how hard he tried. The desperation was starting to rise through his stomach and into his throat, and all he wanted was for it to stop.

Olberic had seen many battles before, but most of the time, he was able to self-regulate enough to come back down to reality again a few moments later. Combat was a high and a thrill that few could ever hope to understand, and Olberic had started to swing his blade years ago to try and reach that rush of adrenaline in some way or another. Now though, he just went through the motions of combat purposelessly, and it was easy for him to fall back into his regular routine since he hadn't stepped out of his regular mindset much to begin with. There wasn't much of a tone shift between the Olberic he knew he was in combat and the Olberic he felt he was beneath all of that.

It should have been easy for him to return to his regular patterns of behavior, but this time, that just didn't seem to be the case. There was this knotted feeling in his stomach, a constant source of anxiety that wanted to suffocate him with everything it had. Olberic couldn't understand it at all. He knew realistically that the fight was over and that he was safe, but at the same time, it felt like there was something else he wasn't seeing yet, a fight he hadn't won even after defeating Morlock.

At first, Olberic had wondered if perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he had pulled his sword out of Omar's chest not even two hours prior. Most of the time, Olberic didn't even blink when he saw the death of another person. He had grown used to it years ago. Seeing Ophilia collapse to the ground in sobs had changed all of that though, and he felt like he could still hear her cries in his ears. It was an experience of death he had never seen before, and it felt like he was the one who had been stabbed instead of Morlock.

But that wasn't entirely it. The constant battle readiness ran a bit deeper than just what Olberic had seen from Ophilia. Hell, it even ran deeper than his fears of speaking with Gustav in Victors Hollow when day broke the following morning. The tournament was set to happen the following day in the afternoon, and Olberic was ready for it. He was still terrified of talking to Gustav about what meeting with Erhardt might do for him, but that wasn't what was consuming him now. It was different, and he knew it.

Olberic looked over his shoulder on instinct, and he could have sworn he saw the shadows move behind him. Come to think of it, H'aanit had mentioned something under her breath about noticing a shifting shadow behind her when she and Linde went hunting after their encounter with Gideon. H'aanit had hardly advertised it to the rest of the travelers, but Olberic had suspected there was something more to it. Now, he could tell exactly where his anxiety was coming from. He knew why he was so worried and tense.

They were being followed.

Olberic couldn't say who was following them or what they wanted, but he was confident this was what was happening. He had wondered a few times before now if they were being tailed. In fact, ever since he joined up with the rest of the travelers, he had felt eyes on the back of his neck no matter where he went. Olberic had learned to figure out when he was being watched on sheer matter of principle. No warrior lasted long if their enemies could sneak up behind them and ruin everything in the blink of an eye. Olberic had honed his instincts over the years, and he was confident they were telling him the truth when they said he was being followed.

Olberic didn't know how he would even call out to his target, especially given that Quarrycrest was just as busy as ever. In fact, he would argue that it was even busier than usual because of Morlock's recent fall. Everyone was clamoring for a way to make a place in the new Quarrycrest even if it had just been a few hours. It would be damn near impossible for Olberic to figure out what was going on as long as there were so many people around him.

It wasn't going to be easy to find the truth, but Olberic refused to let his pursuer get the upper hand here. Maybe he should go and talk to H'aanit about everything he had noticed. If the huntress had determined they were being followed as well, then Olberic wanted her confirmation. He trusted his instincts, but he still wanted to make sure he wasn't just imagining this. If not for how long all of this had been going on, he would have said that his paranoia over Gustav and Erhardt was starting to sneak up on him. However, Olberic knew better than that, and he was sure there was someone following the travelers.

He had to find H'aanit. Olberic was more than happy to walk toward the inn, desperate to get Gustav and Erhardt out of his head. He didn't want to think about the two men who had the potential to change the course of his life with just a few simple conversations. If he could concentrate on the fact that the group was being followed, then he would be able to focus on something that didn't make him feel sick to his stomach.

How twisted it was that Olberic preferred to think about the idea of being followed rather than imagining what would happen when he finally saw Erhardt again. The years really had been cruel to him.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Ophilia?"

Primrose stood beside Ophilia where they waited outside the room Alfyn and Therion were sharing. Ophilia raised one hand-which was now hidden by a clean white glove, not a speck of crimson in sight-to knock only to falter when she heard Primrose's voice. The cleric looked up to the dancer, and Primrose tried to search for signs of certainty in Ophilia's eyes. She wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for, but it was certainly something.

Primrose knew there was a lot on Ophilia's mind after their earlier conversation. She had managed to wipe away her tears, but as soon as Ophilia was back to her regular self, she pulled herself up to her feet and decided that she had to go and talk to Alfyn as soon as possible. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about what had happened in the mansion, understandably so, but Primrose didn't know if this was going to help, at least not yet. Ophilia needed to do something about all of this, but Primrose was afraid they were acting too soon. What if Ophilia wasn't ready?

The cleric swallowed dryly and closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe carefully around the way her fingers were shaking. "I need to do this," Ophilia asserted softly but confidently. "I need to talk to Alfyn about what happened in Morlock's mansion. I'm not looking forward to it either, but I know what I need to do."

Primrose realized the light in Ophilia's eyes was growing brighter as the seconds passed by, and a determination found a home in the cleric's gaze unlike anything Primrose had ever seen before. There would be no talking her out of it. Ophilia hid it well, but she was just as stubborn as the rest of the group. It was a quiet sense of passion and firmness, but Primrose admired it. The Ophilia she had first met back in Sunshade never would have approached something so dark with such confidence. Ophilia had grown a lot, and Primrose had to trust that she knew what she was doing.

"Alright," Primrose said thickly. She stepped aside and gestured to the door. Ophilia breathed in and out carefully before she knocked at the door. The sound of the cleric's glove against the wood echoed through the hallway. Primrose swallowed back her nerves, praying that her fear and anxiety didn't show on her face. Ophilia was the one who should have been afraid if anything, not Primrose. The cleric knew what she was doing, and the dancer just had to trust her in that regard.

H'aanit was the one who came to the door, and her eyes went wide when she realized who she was looking at. Ophilia offered H'aanit a weary smile in return, like the world had torn her apart and put her back together within the span of just the last twelve hours. In a way, that was what happened, not that Ophilia would say it out loud. None of them wanted to admit just what they had been through that afternoon, so they instead decided to handle the much more immediate realities before them.

"Ophilia," H'aanit greeted carefully, her tone dark but not at all unkind. "Art thou here to speaketh with...?" She trailed off, waiting for Ophilia to finish for her. The answer was obvious, but H'aanit wanted to give Ophilia the chance to explain herself.

"Alfyn," Ophilia said without missing a beat. Neither Ophilia nor Primrose could see in the room around H'aanit's impressive frame, but they knew he was in there. "I need to speak with Alfyn."

H'aanit watched Ophilia for a long moment, trying to search for that same sense of stability and security that Primrose had sought previously. When she was satisfied, H'aanit nodded and stepped out of the way. She gestured for Ophilia to step into the room, and the tension in the air was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

One bed was completely unoccupied as was to be expected. Therion never stayed in one place for long no matter what town they were in. The other bed, on the other hand, held two occupants. Linde was curled up against Alfyn, and the apothecary was holding himself up with one elbow. He had perked up at the sound of Ophilia's voice, and he stared at her with wide eyes. He hadn't been expecting her to come and see him so soon either, and it showed all over his face. He couldn't even bring himself to speak even as the seconds crawled by.

"Thou needen time to speaken," H'aanit concluded, her tone somber and shaded. "We shalt see thou later." She clicked her tongue twice, and Linde rose from her place near Alfyn, and the snow leopard jumped off the bed before greeting her partner in hunting at the door. Linde offered Alfyn one final glance, her tail flicking back and forth once before she walked out into the hallway.

Alfyn, for his part, looked betrayed at Linde's departure. He stared at Ophilia with wide eyes and a ghastly pale expression. He forced himself to snap out of it as H'aanit stepped out of the room, and Ophilia gave him a small smile. She pretended her hands weren't shaking as the door tapped shut, leaving only Alfyn and Ophilia in the inn room.

Out in the hallway, Primrose looked up to H'aanit, concern clear as could be. "I'm worried too," she said no matter how obvious it was. "But I think Ophilia is ready. We talked for a long time about all of this, and... She needs to talk to Alfyn sooner or later. It's better sooner than later, I suppose."

H'aanit hummed at that. "Alfyn is struggling," she told Primrose bluntly. "He tryeth his best to hiden it, but I can seen the truth. He needeth this the same as she."

Primrose nodded, wishing she could say something to object to that. She closed her eyes and looked up at the ceiling above. Now that she wasn't worrying about helping to keep Ophilia together, she was left alone with her own thoughts. That was just about the worst situation Primrose could be placed in at this point, and she knew it. Judging by the way H'aanit's eyes were piercing through her, the huntress knew it as well.

Primrose started toward the exit of the inn before she could fully track what was happening. "I need some air," she told H'aanit. It was a silent invitation for the huntress to come with her, and H'aanit followed after her easily. Linde's tail swept low, gracing the floor a few times on the way out.

The sunshine of Quarrycrest felt a lot darker than it had before. In some ways, it reminded Primrose of Sunshade. Despite being in the thick of the desert, Sunshade had never actually felt hot or bright. It was a dark oasis both literally and figuratively, and the slight twist to the light from the skies made Primrose feel sick. She couldn't lose her nerve now. She had come too far to stop. She had more important things to take care of than letting her demons get the best of her.

For the time being, all she could do was leave Ophilia and Alfyn to sort things out with one another. She trusted that they would be able to talk through all of their griefs one way or another. They knew how to handle themselves, though Primrose still felt awful about leaving them alone after all they had been through earlier in the day. Morlock hadn't been kind to either one of them, and it was difficult to say what they were supposed to do with all they had been presented with.

Still, Primrose had to have faith that they were able to handle this on their own. Until then, all she could do was wait, so she wandered aimlessly through the streets of the liberated Quarrycrest. H'aanit followed her, Linde taking up the rear. None of them said a word, not that there was anything they could say that would fix the situation. This was a hell of their own making, and they knew it.

All they could do was hope they outlasted the chaos. Maybe Victors Hollow would be better.

Therion couldn't believe he had gotten away with it for so long.

Ever since he first set foot in the shrine of Aeber, he had known that he was going to have to face the worst truths he could have ever imagined. He had found excuse after excuse to not return, but now that the group was on the verge of leaving-now that Morlock was dead and gone-Therion couldn't keep himself away. He had to go and see what the god had in store for him.

He had been a fool to think he would be able to avoid Aeber for longer than a few days. Therion knew that Aeber was waiting for him. There was a pulsing sensation deep in his chest along with his heart, a flame that pointed him in the direction of the god of chance and fire. Trying to stop Morlock and Gideon had just been distractions at the end of the day. This was the path Therion had been destined to follow from the start, and he knew it all too well.

So he snuck away from Quarrycrest. Therion was glad that nobody was turning to the travelers for guidance as to what they should do next. He didn't think he would have been able to take that or any other distractions. All he wanted to do was get this over. He looked ominously and nervously over the red crags below as he moved through the cliffs like his world wasn't going to fall down on his shoulders when he reached his destination.

A few monsters dared to test him along the way, but Therion didn't give them the time of day. He stabbed his knife easily into a few of them before setting others on fire. He rolled his eyes before pushing onward, pretending he wasn't imagining the way he could slip off the edge of the world so easily if he stepped wrong. He couldn't let any of the Cliftlands beasts get to him, not as long as he was in such a precarious position.

Therion almost welcomed the entrance to Aeber's shrine by the time he arrived. At least now he wouldn't need to think about falling. No, that wasn't true. He was still going to fall one way or another. He knew it.

The door to the shrine slid open, and Therion walked in just before the entrance closed behind him.


Pressing right along! Nice!

I want to start off by saying that I really liked the scene with Cyrus and Odette at the beginning. I just know that if Cyrus got himself into trouble like this, Odette would be there to talk to him about it. She knows him well, and that includes knowing just how much trouble he gets into when left unattended. In her mind, Primrose and Cyrus are the perfect match for traveling companions in a special way, both troublemakers despite their appearances suggesting the contrary. Odette has two messed up little siblings, and I love them all a lot.

Olberic's scene is a bit of foreshadowing too, and if you know anything about his travel banter with Cyrus at the end of his chapter two, then you know what this is about. H'aanit implied something like this when she went hunting with Cyrus after the Gideon fight, and now, we're getting closer to the truth of the matter. Olberic is using this as a distraction so he doesn't have to think about Erhardt or Gustav, and while it's not entirely healthy, he at least acknowledges that the suspense is getting to him. He needs a break. He'll get a small one after his chapter one, but for now, this is the best he gets.

Next up is the scene that sets up a few others. I wanted to get Ophilia with Alfyn and Primrose with H'aanit and Linde in a way that felt natural, so this scene is mostly a transition. I've decided to change things up a bit so Primrose and H'aanit will be with Olberic in their next scene while Ophilia and Alfyn talk. I didn't want to give Olberic the short end of the stick when his chapter two is up next, so I wanted to get ready to transition to a talk between those three. I knew the Ophilia and Alfyn talk would take too long for me to try and cram it into this chapter, so I wound up cutting it off the way I did to give the two of them more time to breathe in the future. Like I said, this is mostly just a transition scene.

Speaking of transition scenes, we have Therion getting ready for his secret scene. He's off to visit with Aeber, and he's got a nasty surprise waiting for him when he meets with the god of fire... Well, not a surprise exactly. Therion already knows where this is going. The audience is out of the loop though. We'll get there soon enough. Promise.

We're getting closer to the end of this arc, and more importantly, we're really close to both 100 chapters and 500,000 words! I'll do all of my mushy stuff about that next week, but for now, I just want to enjoy how far this story has come. Damn. Next week, we'll press on with the aftermath of Morlock's death by having Ophilia and Alfyn talk about their problems. Until then, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is appreciated as always. Have a nice day, everyone!

-Digital