Tale Thirteen, Woman of the Woods and the Child of Light
Near the entrance to Saintsbridge, by the pious city's outskirts, Alfyn strolled through the fields examining plants – and certain insects – with a discerning eye. Where something appeared completely mundane, this apothecary would stare in wonder at the procured object, eyes shining and mouth in a goofy grin. Not a moment later, he would whoop in victory before storing the specimen in his satchel. It seemed that normal-looking items were the ones that he valued the most.
At least, that was what H'aanit discerned as she followed Alfyn closely, her curiosity piqued. Meanwhile, Linde and Hagen laid lazily by Therion who tried his best not to fall asleep against a cobblestone fence. The two companions volunteered to help their resident apothecary in gathering tonic ingredients, but the thief was falling victim to the whims of the huntress's animal companions.
She allowed herself a small smile as she watched the man's white hair finally cover his eyes as he drifted off to sleep.
"Geez, ya think ya know a guy." H'aanit turned to see Alfyn also watching Therion with an amused look.
"Seemeth thou hath learned a great deal of our resident thief," the huntress commented, a hint of disapproval at the end of her last word that even the apothecary did not miss. After all, H'aanit did consider Therion's chosen profession too secretive for its own good.
"Ah, give him a break. He really ain't that bad," Alfyn defended.
"Howst so?"
"Well, remember that conversation we had about the letter I wrote?"
H'aanit thought back on their late-night talk from not so long ago and had to catch herself before she started laughing at the apothecary's mistake once more. He had received enough jesting on their behalf. Even so, the huntress couldn't help herself from grinning.
"Mayhaps…"
Sighing, the apothecary continued, "Thought so. Anyways, he can be quite the talker, if you can get him to actually, ya know, talk."
The huntress leaned on one hip, arching a disbelieving eyebrow at Alfyn, almost disarming him with her piercing green eyes, much like a nocked arrow. "Thou art speaking of Therion, no? That man ist more secretive than the Whisperwood and as cunning. I hardly believen that he hast spake to thou liberally."
Continuing his foraging, the apothecary replied happily. "Believe it, H'aanit. Deep down, he just needs someone to pull him outta his shell."
Thinking back on her less-than-honorable companion, it did seem the man did have a purer heart than he gave himself credit for. After all, they had very few strings of conversations that proved stimulating. Amongst them was the talk of pride, something Therion hardly brought up but seemed to believe in as a thief. However, H'aanit had been unable to glean a clear answer on anything they spoke about, leading her to believe he just didn't want to share the rest of himself with the Octopath Travelers.
What Alfyn had told her made her think better about the thief.
"Mayhaps thou art right."
"Well, not entirely right, after all, Therion's kinda just lazin' away over there with Linde and Hagen," the apothecary pointed out good-naturedly. "At least you're helpin', H'aanit!"
"I do not knowen how much help I hath been, I am afraid," the huntress admitted.
Waving her off, Alfyn replied positively, "Nonsense, your helpin' keep guard and that's 'nough for me."
"Yes, but 'twould ben remiss of me to not sayeth that I am intrigued by the apothecary's profession."
"Oh! You actually find us interestin'?" Alfyn replied bashfully, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. "We ain't that skilled of a bunch."
"I disagree. Thou providen a valuable service to thine own and more. 'Tis a profession worthy of more praise than thou sayst."
"Gee, now you're really butterin' me up, H'aanit!"
Without saying a word on whether the huntress could help him or not, the apothecary examined the field around him, turning every which way in hopes of finding a specific item. Noticing something in the distance, he shouted in excitement before running over towards his quarry. Taking this as a signal to follow him, H'aanit ran to catch up to the man who leaped through the fields of the Riverland like a deer. She found it amusing to liken the scene to a huntress chasing such a metaphorical animal.
Eventually, the apothecary came to a stop at a seemingly random part of the field. He crouched down giddily. Not long after, H'aanit joined him, coming down to his level to examine what he had found. There before them grew a simple, barely budding plant that appeared as if it was nothing more than a weed. In fact, the huntress had to admit that it was akin to a smaller version of the medicinal grapes that the Octopath Travelers made use of on numerous occasions. The huntress watched the apothecary as he examined the plant, noticing that his eyes appeared so similar to hers whenever her master had commented on them during a hunt.
Focused. Keen. Knowledgeable.
In his own right, Alfyn was a hunter.
If H'aanit wasn't training Tressa on how to follow her path, she would have gladly passed down her knowledge to Alfyn.
"See this?"
The apothecary brought the huntress back from her thinking, turning her attention solely on the plant. Its stem had the same shape of a vine, ending in a small bud that bore a purple color. While many would say it would grow into a plant, both travelers knew otherwise after having seen the common bud on many occasions.
H'aanit tried to determine the answer for herself. "Hm… 'Tis familiar, but I canst saye that I rememberen what it ist called."
Smiling, Alfyn explained, "We use its full-grown cousins quite often on our journeys. This is a budding grape plant, one that hasn't even come near full maturity."
"Of course!" the huntress exclaimed, surprised that she had not remembered it.
"Startin' to sound like Professor Albright."
The red-headed woman of the wood chuckled. "'Tis a compliment. He ist quite brilliant."
"A little too brilliant, I think. Every time he researches Olberic, I think the man loses a piece of himself."
The apothecary couldn't help but snicker, thinking back on the warrior being interrogated by the scholar at the tavern in Quarrycrest. His muscles ached at the thought of carrying the mountain of the man back to the inn. Shaking his head to forgo remembering what happened when they did return to the inn, Alfyn continued before becoming sidetracked once more.
"Anyways, this bud right here," the apothecary explained as he picked the purple part of the plant "is what us apothecary's call the essence of grape, a much more potent version of its grown self when processed right."
"Processed?"
"Yeah, I'll show ya."
From his knapsack Alfyn produced mortar and pestle, setting it on a clear space next to him. Then, he took his water skin and placed it beside his tools. He set the bud inside the mortar before adding a small amount of water. Pestle now in hand, the apothecary went to work muddling the two substances, combining their properties. Slowly, but surely, the mixture turned into a purple liquid that resembled wine. Once the color deepened in hue a few shades more, the apothecary nodded his head approvingly. He set his pestle down and rose the mortar to H'aanit.
"Drink it."
Having been handed the concoction, the huntress studied it for a moment, observing its qualities, before raising it to her lips. Slowly, she drank from the mortar, relishing in the cool drink while also feeling a spike of energy as she ingested more of the essence of grape. Such a simple concoction, yet it made her feel more energized.
"I… I feelen empowered," the huntress stated with wide, appreciating eyes. "Such a simple, yet powerful combination."
Retrieving the mortar and cleaning off his equipment, Alfyn nodded his head in agreement. "Yup, that's the power of the apothecary: all our forbidden knowledge used to help those in need."
His words came out with a hint of theatrics to them, earning laughter from H'aanit, who could still feel the essence of grape pulsing within her. She would have to practice her bowsmanship after this to rid herself of her excess energy.
"Art thou allowed to sharen such secrets?" she played along.
"Only if I feel someone is skilled enough to use them!"
"Ah, then I am forever in thou's debt."
"Then I'll collect on it now. From this moment until you can prepare your own poultices and tonics, you will be my apprentice." Alfyn held his hand out towards H'aanit expectantly, his ever-present friendly smile taking over his face. "We got a deal?"
Without hesitation the young woman took his hand in hers, shaking it. "Thou hast a deal."
"Great! Then next, I'll show ya what seeds are about. After all, a lot of 'em have hidden powers, but they can only be activated if they are used right. I'll show ya!"
As Therion snored away with Linde and Hagen, garnering his fellows' attention every now and again, the pair of nature-lovers worked away with the materials the land provided them. The huntress garnered more appreciation for the land she protected as she learned how to utilize nature's bounty in a different manner aside from its many beasts.
"Run along now before your parents worry anymore."
Ophilia gently gestured the group of children she had helped in the Murkwood back towards Saintsbridge. After such a grueling battle with one of the forest's guardians, the great wolf Hrodvitnir, her companions had elected to return to the tavern, seeing as the sun had started to set. The cleric instead chose to see that the children made it home. As she waved goodbye to the group of young boys, they scurried away and turned around briefly to do the same before returning to their families.
Now, with her duty done and the children safe, Ophilia felt the pressure of her task lift from her lithe shoulders and replaced by the exhaustion of a long, yet successful, day. She released a deep breath, her magic nearly drained from her journey into the Murkwood. For what must have been the umpteenth time that day, she thanked her intuition for prompting her to ask members of the Octopath Travelers to join her.
To thank them, she decided that she would treat them to the first round of drinks that night. With a resolute nod and determined expression, she turned towards the bridge that led back to the local inn.
Ophilia walked slowly, enjoying the sights and sounds of twilight within the pious village of Saintsbridge as the smells of nature and cooking wafted towards her across the river that separated the village into two banks. Peace filled her and she couldn't help but stop as she came to the southeast district of the village. Still standing on the bridge, she gazed out towards the river, specifically at the sun's reflection and the myriad of warm colors that mingled with the cool blues and whites of the rushing waters.
The cleric folded her arms over the bridge's cobblestone parapet, careful to make sure her staff leaned securely within the nook of her elbow. She leaned over her arms, smiling softly as she saw the world transition from awake to asleep. A lulling sight indeed that made her eyes a little heavier than she would like to admit, causing them to become half-lidded.
As her mind tried to ebb Ophilia slowly to sleep, her head nodding every now and then, she heard her name in the distance.
In response, she roused herself and turned to the masculine voice calling for her.
At the end of the bridge, near the inn, Ophilia saw Alfyn excitedly waving at her with his trademark smile. For her part, the cleric gently waved at the apothecary. Next to him, she saw H'aanit and Therion edging towards the inn, seemingly waiting on Alfyn. With a few words, he gestured for them to continue to their destination without him. Shrugging his shoulders (and noticing Ophilia along the bridge with an unseen glint in his eyes), Therion lazily walked away from Alfyn towards the inn, prompting H'aanit to join the thief.
Rid of his company, Alfyn raced to join Ophilia on the bridge.
"Hey, Philia! How're ya?" he greeted, taking a spot next to her and flashing the cleric his friendly smile.
"Hello, Alfyn. I am well, although a bit tired. Today was... trying, to say the least," Ophilia admitted, returning to her leaning position, glad for the distraction from sleep. "Yourself?"
"Pretty swell. Enjoyed a day o' pickin' ingredients for some tonics and whatnot. Hells, even got H'aanit to work with me. Looks like I got myself an apprentice!"
Ophilia giggled at the man's obvious eagerness mixed with excitement. "That is good to hear, Alfyn. After all, the more members of our group that know how to heal and care for us, the better."
"My thoughts exactly! But, uh... well... I may have taught her a semi-healthy concoction for interest's sake."
Alfyn admitted his doings like a child caught stealing from a cookie jar: a little unsure and rubbing his head, but happy he did it all the same. Even if the endearing moment of childishness did warm Ophilia's heart, it did not stop her curiosity from asking: "Oh? What might that be?"
The apothecary thought for a moment, wondering if he should tell the cleric what they made. But, seeing how she was exhausted, Alfyn believed she could use a drink of his and H'aanit's special concoction. It might even perk her up a bit.
"Well, it's nothin' too special. Just a little somethin' I whip up every now n' then to bring health and fun together, ya know?" the apothecary replied cryptically, reaching into his bag as he did so. "Here. Let me show ya."
From his satchel, Alfyn produced an unmarked glass container about the size of a bottle of ale. "This right here is called spiked kombucha, an apothecary from outside the continent taught me about it a few years back. It's healthy for ya, but also gives ya a bit of a buzz – I usually give it to patients who are a bit scared or timid. Eases them up and gives them a healthy dose of tonic to help in the healing process. Somethin' unique for sure!"
Ophilia, for her part, listened intently and eyed the bottle with even more curiosity than before. "So, it is a fermented drink that also helps to cure people's ailments?"
"Spot on! And it gives them a spot o' energy. Figured after a day like today we could all use some. But I haven't exactly tasted it yet. If you want, I could use a tester."
The cleric smiled softly at the suggestion and nodded her head without hesitation. "If what you say is true, then I could use a cup to help me get back to the inn."
"Great! Then let me get 'em out."
Alfyn set the jar of spiked kombucha on the bridge parapet while he fished out two wooden cups from his satchel. Once he had, he put them down next to the jar before pouring the liquid into the cups for him and Ophilia to enjoy. Satisfied with his measurements, he replaced the spiked kombucha in his satchel and took the cups in his hands.
"Here you go," he said as he gave Ophilia her drink. Alfyn rose his cup to meet the cleric's. "Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
The pair toasted, touching the lips of their cups together before taking a tentative sniff and sip of the substance. Once they had, they could feel a familiar warmth in their bellies that slowly migrated with a tingling buzz from their limbs and back to their chests. A sense of newfound energy woke them up at the same time, earning a satisfied sigh from both creator and tester.
"Ah, that hits the spot," Alfyn stated, leaning comfortably back into his arms as he, unknowingly, scooted closer towards Ophilia.
"Indeed," the cleric agreed before taking another sip.
Against the cobblestone parapet, the pair stayed like the for a few uncountable minutes, enjoying their beverages in silence. As they continued to do so, Ophilia recounted the day's events in her mind, thinking unhappily for a moment on the attitude of the boys towards their friend, Emil. Of course, boys would be boys and childish antics and attitudes would cause feuds such as that.
But what if Ophilia hadn't been there today?
Emil would likely have died in the Murkwood, leaving behind his family and friends who would feel guilty for the rest of their lives. It was a saddening thought, one that tugged at Ophilia's smile, weighing it down into a frown after a sip of her spiked kombucha.
This didn't go unnoticed by Alfyn.
"What's up, Philia? Somethin' tuggin' at yer mind?"
The cleric realized her actions had given her away, her heart worn on her shoulder once again. But, the combination of clearing her mind and the drink in her hand, prompted her to speak.
"You could say that," she began. "Today has just shown me how cruel the world can be and what our actions, if not handled correctly, may bring upon us. I... I almost saw a child die today, Alfyn."
All brevity in the air disappeared. While Ophilia didn't mean to sound so downtrodden and word her thoughts so sadly, in her current state of mind, she felt she couldn't word it any other way.
Alfyn reeled briefly at the revelation. "Wow. That's, um... that's somethin' alright."
"Yes. If I nor our companions were there to aid the child, then he would be gone from this world. It makes me wonder about my journey and if Aelfric's Flame and the Right of the Kindling can truly bring peace to those around them. Can hope and faith truly hold a place in people's hearts or am I playing the fool and their errand?"
Ophilia's words, more her insecurities about her journey, spilled forth from her due to a combination of exhaustion, the day's events, and the drink in her hands. In most people's company, she wouldn't weight their minds with her own doubts and saddened thoughts. But, in Alfyn's presence, she felt bold enough and secure enough to do just that.
Still, she was unsure how he would take her words.
A steady hand around her shoulders brought her back, however, away from her doubt. She turned her head to see Alfyn facing her, the same smile, and same comforting presence. Her feelings and troubles laid out before him, yet he faced them as he always did: with a positive attitude and his unabashed ability to help those in need.
"I don't think that Philia," he started. "You give people the chance for hope and faith, and if you give that to 'em, well that's all they need. Once a person knows someone or something believes in 'em even just a bit, then they will take and grow like a flower. At least, that's how I see it. 'Sides, even you need someone to have that belief in you. So, if ever you feel that doubt or other nasty feelins', just remember to believe in the me that believes in you."
While Alfyn's words had all the feeling of a simple pep talk, they worked wonders for Ophilia and brought a sense of clarity to her. Yes, even as the holder of Aelfric's Lantern, who brought hope, faith, and belief to all she encountered, needed someone to believe in her. And it felt good, simple as that, to have someone hold such faith in her. It warmed her heart and her smile returned, along with a few tears prickling her eyes.
"Alfyn... thank you," she finally spoke softly, holding her hand to her chest. "Your faith in me means more than you know."
Alfyn rubbed the back of his head with his free hand and blushed. "Aw, shucks... didn't think it'd mean that much. Never been much for words, but I'm glad they helped."
Ophilia giggled, using her hand to hide her mouth from view. Calming down, her sound of mirth turned into an unbidden yawn. As the sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky violet, she felt the need for sleep tugging at her and didn't want to move. Without thinking, and prompted by Alfyn's hand on her should, the cleric leaned into him, resting her head on his chest.
Stunned, and only seconds after Ophilia fell asleep standing, Alfyn stayed completely still, the blush from earlier heating up his cheeks. He gulped, wanting to wake up his friend to guide her back to the inn. But as he watched her peacefully sleeping face, she smirked, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face and allowing her to continue her nap.
"Guess we all had a tirin' day, huh?" Alfyn remarked quietly.
Hoping she was as asleep as he thought and moving tentatively just in case, Alfyn hoisted Ophilia into his arms, carrying her bridal style. In response, she curled into him further, her adorable movement almost eliciting a laugh from the apothecary. He kept in, not wanting to wake her, and started to make his way to the inn as the stars above peppered the sky with their white light.
Belief is one of humanity's most powerful tools.
It can be raised as a sword, a weapon meant to strike down and lay waste to all those who think otherwise, uniting the people under belief's close cousin: terror.
Like a flame, it can be consoled, gently growing in size until that fire turns from a smoldering ember into a gentle blaze that has the ability to push one forward.
As with much of the world, H'aanit and Ophilia simply needed confirmation of themselves and then their own self-belief would rise.
Creating a belief in others, through one's own belief, brings more hope than one can ever know...