Tale Seventeen, Light on One's Feet and Facing the Past
Told with the promise of new stories from distant lands to come...
~Teller~
Heat raced across the sands of Wellspring even as the sun started to inch closer and closer to the horizon. Yet the desert town warded off the waves of heat thanks to the flowing oasis. Trees and buildings sprung up alike around its shores, taking as much water and shade as they needed to survive the Sunland wastes.
Instead of hiding away during what many would call a lazy afternoon, Ophilia sat at the banks of the oasis to stay as cool as possible. Her eyes had also stayed firmly glued on the southern path leading out of Wellspring towards the Western Wellspring Sands. The cleric's half of the Octopath Travelers had heard about the stand the town's guards and Olberic's half of the Octopath Travelers had made just outside of the village against the lizardmen.
Having finished helping Therion earlier that day, alongside Primrose and Cyrus, Ophilia had heard about the warrior's stand from the innkeeper when they had returned to Wellspring. It didn't take long for her to start searching for any of Wellspring's guards to tell her what had happened and if anyone had been hurt.
Luckily, she had found the captain after he had just returned from fighting the lizardmen. Ophilia quickly learned from him that no one had died and only a few of his men had suffered minor injuries that didn't need tending.
She breathed a sigh of relief, happy that her friends hadn't gotten severely injured – or worse.
A part of her tried to claim it was because they were all traveling companions. However, Ophilia knew that, deep down, she was happy to hear Alfyn had survived such an onslaught.
Of course, she had no doubt that Olberic's group would succeed, but she didn't like her friends fighting without her there to heal them.
But she couldn't take off after them, the cleric knew that would be too dangerous for her and the others.
Besides, Therion had already found a shady spot next to the oasis and fell asleep, Cyrus had sat by the oasis to examine its flora and fauna, and Primrose had taken up her position next to Ophilia and Therion to await their friend's return.
So, they diligently watched the southern path leading away from Wellspring, waiting for their friends' return.
A loud snore broke Ophilia away from her recollections, causing her and Primrose to break away from the path to shortly glare at Therion.
"The irony. He's so quiet when he's awake; but so loud when he's sleeping," Primrose joked, brushing a long lock of brunette hair behind her ear.
"I heard that," the thief mumbled. He tugged down the hood of his shawl, even more, to block out the sun and ward off Primrose's eyes.
She chuckled. "You are much like a cat."
"Then lemme get my nap in, eh?"
"Of course, I shall let you know if there is any cream or mice around."
Therion gave her a thumbs-up before returning to his nap.
Ophilia giggled behind her hand. "You two seem to have gotten quite close," she whispered suggestively.
Primrose rose a hand to her chest. "My, my, Ophilia, when did you get such a clever tongue? But, alas, I have little to say on the matter." The dancer stared at her nails with feigned interest. "Though it seems that you and our resident apothecary have become closer than you care to admit."
Unlike in the past, Ophilia smiled softly instead of stuttering in response. Her cheeks lit up but in a soft pink rather than a burning red. A sparkle of happiness twinkled in her eyes.
Primrose noticed all of this and purred happily. "You really care for him, don't you?"
"Yes," she admitted. Her face fell a little. "I just need to tell him."
"Do you not know how?"
Ophilia nodded. "Every time I try, my heart feels as if it will burst from my chest and... I feel sick to my stomach."
"A first blush, indeed. Well, seems I owe H'aanit an apology... and twenty leaves."
"Were you taking bets on us?"
"I'm getting fifty leaves," Therion chimed in.
"Thank you, my little kitten," Primrose chided over her shoulder.
The thief waved them off before the dancer mused, "If you are having trouble telling Alfyn with words, then maybe you can do it some other way.
"What do you mean?" Ophilia asked.
Primrose gestured with her head. "Come with me. There's a more secluded spot over there. Trust me when I say you won't want the peering eyes of men watching you. Just yet, anyway."
With a playful wink, the dancer stood up on her feet and walked towards a small grove of trees just to the south of the oasis. Before Ophilia could ask any questions, she decided she would follow behind. After all, if anyone could help with problems concerning men, then it was Primrose.
She joined the dancer under the trees, happy to have returned to the shade even after so short of a walk. Once she had joined Primrose, Ophilia noticed that she had taken off her dancing slippers. A nod from the dancer's head indicated that she wanted her friend to do the same. She sat down and quickly removed her traveling boots. Her toes buried themselves in the sand, enjoying its cool, silky texture.
Ophilia giggled, the sand tickling her feet.
"Good. Now, stand up, please."
The cleric stood at her friend's command. What followed next was strange but... not unexpected if this was going where Ophilia thought.
Primrose strolled around Ophilia, looking up and down the length of her robed body. Roaming eyes stopped on the cleric's rear, waist, and chest in that order. At each, the cleric noticed that her friend rose her brow more and more. Not wanting to interrupt her work, Ophilia stayed still, but that didn't dissuade the red creeping up her neck towards her face.
"Hm... you're quite well proportioned, my dear. I do believe that apothecary doesn't know how lucky he is." Primrose paused to chuckle. "Not quite yet, anyway. But I'll talk to Tressa when she gets back, she may have bartered for a set of dancer's clothes that would accentuate your physique."
To confirm her suspicions, Ophilia tentatively asked, "You... want to teach me how to dance?"
"Precisely, my dear," Primrose confirmed with a wink. "But not just to learn how to dance on the battlefield, but how to dance for your apothecary. That is my main reason for teaching you."
No one would ever think the cleric's cheeks could burn any brighter, but Ophilia swore she felt her entire body consumed by a beating red blush. While she felt that her relationship with Alfyn needed just a little push, she didn't think that learning how to dance was that push. Not that she didn't mind the idea of dancing – she just never thought she would do what Primrose did for her 'first blush.'
"I... um... you want to...?"
Ophilia's stuttering followed her brain's inability to properly process what Primrose had suggested. If one looked closely, then they might see smoke coming from the poor cleric's ears as her thought process completely went into overdrive and shut down on her in a short sequence.
Primrose couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Ophilia! Alfyn is a sweet gentleman, a perfect fit for you. But! Because he is just that, he won't make the first move unless he knows that you are ready for such. And, since you cannot tell him, you will have to show him. Now, we need to begin. I will teach you a simple dance, but we have little time, even for that."
The dancer grabbed her friend's hands, guiding her to the clearing between the palm trees. She let go of them only after she was sure that Ophilia could stand straight without falling over. It seemed that her suggestion had taken the poor girl by surprise more than she had anticipated.
"Ophilia, come on, we don't have much time."
Primrose snapped a finger in front of the cleric's face, returning her attention to the matter at hand. Ophilia blinked twice before shaking her head and returning to the present. It took her a few moments, but she now had her emotions and mind back under her control – even if her cheeks still held a small blush.
"B-but... do I have a say in this?" she asked one more time.
Primrose shook her head. Instead of speaking she stood up tall, brought her hands to her hips, and jutted her right foot forward. The ringing of her ankle jewelry delivered the dancer's message to her student:
Follow my lead.
Realizing that she had little choice in the matter, Ophilia sighed and mimicked her friend.
Primrose seemed pleased with her first step. So, she continued by shaking her hip forward and bringing her arms up over her head, intertwining her fingers.
The cleric gulped and followed suit. Even though she wore the clothing of the clergy, she still felt that her movements could be seen as entrancing.
Despite her original reservations about showing Alfyn what she had learned, Ophilia started feeling more confident with each step she mimicked. Slowly, her blush disappeared, replaced with a concentrated expression mirroring her effort.
As the sun sunk over the desert and ushered in the cold night, Ophilia learned the art of the dancer, knowing that she could support her friends the way Primrose did.
In her heart, she also knew that she could use this dance to express her feelings to a certain alchemist.
They had slipped out just after Alfyn and Ophilia.
Even so, the rest of the Octopath Travelers knew that, whatever Primrose and Therion were planning, neither the apothecary nor cleric would catch a glimpse of them.
That one thought alone sent the table into raucous laughter. They would no doubt hear about Alfyn and Ophilia's night from one of the two thieves.
"'Tis a first blush, indeed," H'aanit commented first as she sipped on her drink. Immediately, she felt the heat of the day wash away from her body. "My, 'tis a treat to drink something so..." The huntress couldn't find the word to describe it.
"Hydratin'!" Tressa supplied as she rose her own glass in the air happily. "It's strong, too! I already feel a bit tipsy, ya know? But... I guess it doesn't take much to do that, right?"
She giggled before sipping her coconut water-vodka cocktail.
Originally, the group of adventurers had found it odd that the tavern didn't sell beer or ale. After asking for the local drink, they were all served this cocktail. It didn't take long for them to understand why this was Wellsprings' local beverage of choice.
"From what the barkeep told me; they add a splash of Wellspring spring water to complete the cocktail. It makes it that much more refreshing," Cyrus summarized as he examined his own drink. "Quite a refreshing and re-energizing take on an alcoholic beverage. I believe we shan't have a hangover this night."
At that moment, Tressa guffawed loudly as she finished her first cocktail.
The table sighed collectively and good-naturedly as the bubbly merchant ran up to the bar for her second drink.
"Well, at least most of us will not," Olberic lamented with a smirk.
"Nor willst thou, Sir Olberic," H'aanit added.
He turned to her and rose one of his eyebrows questioningly.
The huntress chuckled. "I remeberen the tale of thou's night in Quarrycrest. Thou couldst not holden thy drink well."
Linde purred suggestively, as if she, too, were making fun of the warrior's weaker constitution.
Olberic hid behind his drink. "I do not know what you are talking about, H'aanit. I can hold my ale with the best of them."
"I do not believe it is your ability to drink beer or ale she is questioning, Sir Olberic," Cyrus jumped in. "Better yet, I believe it is your ability to hold down liquor."
"Professor..."
"Am I not wrong?"
At the mention of liquor, Olberic visually swayed in his chair as his cheeks reddened.
"Gods be damned..." he muttered sullenly.
The table chuckled again at his expense and Tressa guffawed from the bar. She either laughed at a completely different turn of events or somehow overheard her companions talking. With H'aanit's training, none of them put either possibility past the merchant.
Once she returned to the table, the four remaining members of the Travelers fell into comfortable small talk. They asked simple questions back-and-forth, jumping in quickly whenever Cyrus opened his mouth.
"What is your favorite flower?"
"Why did thou becomen a professor?"
"How haven't you been whisked away by some smart, sexy teacher?"
Each question caused the professor to halt in his tracks, unable to posit any of his own. For that small grace alone, H'aanit, Tressa, and, especially, Olberic were thankful.
When they ran out of questions just as Cyrus wanted to speak, again, Tressa jumped in one last time to save themselves.
"How 'bout we play 'Never have I ever!'"
Everyone paused, thinking on this game idea for a few moments.
"I wouldst not minden such a game," H'aanit spoke up first, her eyes betraying her stoic response. They shone with a cat-like intrigue that reminded everyone at the table about Primrose.
"I wouldn't, either," Olberic chimed in, taking more intermittent and smaller sips of his beverage. "Professor?"
"It would be a way to learn more about ourselves, would it not? Very well, shall we begin?"
Tressa jumped from her chair raising her hand. "Five fingers up, then! Let's go! A drink for each time you have ever-ed and I go first!" While the merchant thought of her first choice, her friends slowly held up five fingers each. "Never have I ever... swung a sword at someone!"
Olberic, sighing, put down a finger, realizing she had targeted him almost immediately. He choked back his liquor with a sluggish look on his face, earning a chuckle from H'aanit and Linde.
"Gods... if only it were ale."
Surprisingly, Cyrus joined him. Everyone turned to the professor, not sure how to take this response.
Once he finished his sip, he saw everyone's eyes on him. "What? Did I play the game wrong?"
"No, Professor, 'tis just... we would hath never guessed you wouldst wielden a sword," H'aanit supplied.
"Ah, but of course! Though it was not someone, but something. You see, I had heard that a steel broadsword could bisect a pig end-to-end. So, I set up my experiment to test the sturdiness of such a metal blade, in my younger days, and found that such a feat could be carried out. After that, I took another pig wearing chainmail and achieved the same results. Then-"
"Why in the gods' names would you kill a pig like that!?" Tressa interceded.
Cyrus shrugged his shoulders. "Because it was to be butchered anyway and that way the flesh has not lost or gained any resilience due to death or storage of the pig's carcass."
"Hm... an interesting point, Professor," Olberic conceded, albeit hesitantly.
"I think... I'm gonna be sick..." the merchant spoke, her face indeed turning paler at the thought.
"Now, I believe it is my turn, no?"
H'aanit and Olberic glanced at each other. After hearing such a story from Cyrus, they weren't sure that wanted to know his 'never have I ever' statement.
However, Olberic, in his tipsy state, decided it wouldn't be so bad. So, he nodded slowly towards the Professor.
"Never have I ever been in a battle where I have slain one hundred men or more."
Tressa, unfortunately, had a mouthful of her drink to calm her queasiness. It spewed from her mouth onto the table as soon as the last word left Cyrus's mouth. She coughed vehemently, receiving small pats on the back from H'aanit.
Olberic sighed. "Professor, please do not use this game to interview me."
"But I never have," he smirked victoriously. "Therefore, by the rules of the game, you must lower your finger if you have and I can ask a follow-up question or two until you tell us the complete story."
The warrior stared, mouth agape, at Cyrus. Of course, they should've seen that the man would pull something like this. He wanted knowledge of Olberic's time as a Knight of Hornburg, and it seemed like no force, meddling merchant or demon horde, could stop him from his quest.
"I believen that wouldst maken this a boring game, nay?" H'aanit ventured carefully once she had finished caring for Tressa. "If thou continue thy course, then we wouldst knowen who thou wouldst target. Aye?"
Olberic and Tressa quickly nodded their heads, giving Cyrus pause about his statement. He glanced at all of his companions before heaving a defeated, exaggerated sigh, not much unlike a child, and conceding to H'aanit.
"Fine, dear H'aanit. I believe you may have a point. Then I shall change my statement. Never have I ever..."
In the brief silence that followed, the three Travelers started to regret their decision to play such a game with Professor Albright.
His statement only served to prove them right.
Three of the Travelers walked through the doorway to the inn with a distant look in their eyes. Linde trailed behind them without any hinting expression. They sluggishly stomped up the stairs to their rooms, while Cyrus trailed behind them through the inn entrance.
"Why did we leave so suddenly? I had to pay for our remaining drinks," the scholar called after the trio.
"I'll pay ya back tomorrow," Tressa murmured, a distant look in her eyes. "Why did you... why was that your statement?"
The merchant kept walking to her bed, trudging away from the Professor and his inappropriate 'never have I ever' statement. She needed to wash her brain for even thinking about any members of the Octopath Travelers actually putting one of their fingers down to let their friends know that, yes, they had done such an act.
H'aanit and Olberic could only think the same thing as the latter made it to his room first and opened the door without a word. Even in his tipsy, swaying state, the warrior somehow made it into his room and collapsed in his bed, ignoring the staring contest that Primrose and Therion appeared to have been having.
He covered his entire body in his bed's sheets instantly.
The huntress and Linde, meanwhile, opened their door to find Alfyn and Ophilia standing in the middle of the room in each other's arms. They snapped their attention towards the door, their eyes turning wide and cheeks burning. Both jumped away from each other, their mouths opened and stammering, trying to find the words.
H'aanit was too disturbed, tired, and drunk to care at the moment. So, she sighed and closed the door to her room. With weighted steps, she made her way towards Tressa's room.
Even after H'aanit entered and saw Cyrus trying to explain his reasoning to the merchant (who had covered her face with her pillow), she entered the room without invitation. She grabbed a spare pillow and blanket from Cyrus's bed, threw them on the floor, and tried to drift off to sleep, ignoring the pictures that flitted behind her eyes.
To speak one's feelings is, at times, inadequate;
To show one's feelings through action is, at times, the only possible way to show how much you care for someone.
Dear Ophilia has seemed to have learned much from her time with Primrose.
But hark! it seems that the remaining Travelers have encountered a tragic turn of events.
Even I cannot retell what Professor Cyrus Albright had posited – it would be inappropriate.
However, as with one story, there must be another, no?
What were Primrose and Therion doing?
What of Alfyn and Ophilia?
Did her plan come to fruition?
It is time to shift our point-of-view...