Tale Eighteen, The Desert is Hot and Something to Show
Alfyn groaned as his evaporating sweat turned into steam almost instantaneously. Yet the high sun in the clear sky neither noticed nor cared about the wordless plea from the apothecary. It left him to moan and suffer under its cruel rays that threatened to, not just burn the poor man's skin, but burn away his only pieces of protective clothing.
"Why... in the hells are we stompin' through the sands of... well, hell!?" Alfyn spoke through a dry mouth. He scrambled for his water sack, trying to suck anything from it. Alas, it was empty. "I don't have no more water..."
He started cackling maddeningly and dropped to his knees dramatically.
"Come on, gods! Can't ya help me out?"
Out of view, a water sack was thrust into the apothecary's face.
Alfyn lifted his eyes up from the sands beneath him to see H'aanit offering him a chance at hydration.
"Here, taken some water, 'twill help," the huntress commented.
"H'aanit... thank you!"
The apothecary snatched the water out of his friend's hands and greedily drank from it. Not long after, H'aanit regretted her decision and took the water sack from the apothecary.
"Halt, Alfyn. Linde wouldst needen some, as well."
Once she had secured her water sack, H'aanit gave her animal companion some water before continuing to wade through the ankle-high sand. Olberic followed behind her, with Tressa in tow, neither showing the same signs of heat exhaustion that Alfyn felt.
"How're you guys handlin' this so easily...?" he spoke softly.
Begrudgingly, the apothecary returned to his feet to join his fellow Travelers' march.
However, he felt the breeze cool ever so slightly as they neared Wellspring.
Once he had joined his friends at the top of the sand dune they had hiked up, Alfyn broke into a smile upon the sight, seeing Wellspring in the distance.
"That's not a mirage, yeah?" Alfyn asked hopefully, his smile faltering at the thought.
"No, that is it. We are almost back." Olberic informed. He turned his attention to Alfyn. "You cannot handle the heat, can you?"
"Isn't a warrior supposed to be tough?" Tressa questioned with a smile, patting Alfyn's back.
He almost stumbled forward down the dune but managed to catch himself. The merchant apologized hastily.
"Nah, 'course not. It's 'lot nicer back home. Here? This is horrible!"
Alfyn pointed at the warrior. "Olberic knows some ice magic, so he can keep himself cool." Then he pointed to the huntress. "H'aanit and Linde have dealt with way worse." Then he pointed to the merchant. "And Tressa! I don't know how you're dealin' with all of this!"
She chuckled and flicked the feather in her cap. "Guess I'm just better than you! Maybe I should've been a warrior."
Olberic let loose a short, bellowing laugh. "That sounds like a challenge if I have ever heard one, Alfyn."
"Let's wait to do that later, right? It's a bit too hot for that. And after fightin' the lizardmen, I don't think I could lift up my sword again."
"And how do we know you won't just run right to Ophilia's arms when we get back?" taunted Tressa with a waggle of her brows. "After all, everyone here knows that she'll heal all your bruises and cuts and then you'll be able to take me on without trouble."
The apothecary narrowed his eyes, the heat erasing his usually docile and cheerful behavior. "I'm not fallin' for it, Tress."
"Well, maybe not here, but..."
She paused and searched the surrounding area, finding a boulder sticking out of the hot sand. A shadow protruded from its base, the sun giving a small gift to the weary Travelers before they returned to Wellspring.
Tressa pointed it out. "There! We can rest and then duel each other!"
Without waiting for a response, she took off towards the hopeful shelter. Alfyn watched after her in awe. He didn't expect her to have that amount of energy left. However, even he had to admit he felt a bit of himself returning to him if he could relax under some shade for a few minutes.
"Well, let's head over there, then. A l'il break 'fore we get back to Wellspring might help."
H'aanit and Olberic nodded, following Alfyn as he walked along the ridge of the sand dune towards the boulder. When they arrived at the shaded spot, Tressa had already sprawled herself out beneath the boulder. Her pack held her above the sand and slowly sunk into the unsteady ground ever so slightly, allowing her to keep any minute dirt particles out of her hair and clothing.
She giggled after dipping her hand into the cool sand.
"Oh! This stuff is nice and cold! It's like water, except, you know, not. Better than beach or desert sand any day!"
H'aanit smiled softly at Tressa's childish excitement. "I believen 'tis still sand."
"Yeah, but, like, cold sand!"
"I suppose 'tis true. Sir Olberic, Alfyn, I assumen that thou dealen with sand stuck in thou's chainmail?"
As if on cue, and proving H'aanit's point, Olberic shook out his cloak after removing it before shaking his body. The chains of his armor rattled as small specks of sand fell from him and joined the desert he stood on.
Alfyn did the same.
"What was that, H'aanit?" Olberic asked as he sat down.
The huntress waved the warrior off as Linde took her spot in the shade. "'Tis nothing. You hath just proven my point."
Alfyn sat down next to H'aanit. As he did so, Tressa removed her pack, leaving it in its spot. She jumped up to her feet and started stretching – all the while wearing a playful smile.
"Okay, Alfyn! Let's go! It's dueling time," she challenged before picking up her spear from her gear.
Her opponent groaned. "Come on, Tressa. Can't I have a few minutes to rest? We're walkin' through the literal hells to get back to Wellspring."
She planted the base of her spear in the sand. "Still don't know what you're talking 'bout. It ain't that hot out, just a little dry. That's all"
H'aanit, Linde, and Olberic chuckled at her antics and Alfyn's expense.
The apothecary shook his head. "But I just got the sand out of my boots and armor..."
"Then let's get some more back in!"
"But I'm tired..."
"Let's kick it outta ya!"
"But it's hot..."
"Psh, if it's that hot for you, then fine! We'll fight under the boulder. H'aanit, Linde, and Olberic can sit in the sun and watch."
Both the huntress and warrior turned to each other before shrugging their shoulders. They stood up without a second thought and relocated away from the shade into the sun – Linde, however, refused to move. The two observers did stay standing, showing, at least, that they didn't want to deal with the hot sand.
Alfyn opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find the right excuse that could get him out of this mess. But no words would come to him.
He had run out of excuses.
Tressa stood in the shade, now bouncing the shaft of her spear on her shoulder. She waited for her friend to join her.
With a dramatic sigh, Alfyn managed to stand up. He walked shortly to the spot within the shade opposite his opponent. All the while, his heavier spear drug behind him in the sand.
He tried a final out. "We really don't have to do this."
"Hey, I'm tryin' to help you out," Tressa retorted.
For his part, Alfyn readied himself.
"Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout, Tress. This is only gonna get me tired."
"Yeah, and like I said earlier, who's going to be patching you up?"
While Tressa had mentioned this earlier, Alfyn hadn't given much more thought to it other than a simple taunt from the merchant. Now, staring his opponent down, he realized that she would likely get some quick, precise jabs in between the joints of his armor in his tired state. Then, Ophilia would see him staggering into Wellspring, and want to make sure he was alright, and...
His armor started to feel hotter than it had been in the sun.
"Aw, you're blushing, lover boy," Tressa continued taunting. "You know, Prim's probably giving Phili advice on how to woo you while we're gone, too. Have to get your game up."
"'Tis something to consider, Alfyn. A first blush must be returned sooneth after it starts," H'aanit replied sagely, nodding her head.
"Ya could use some of your own advice," Alfyn retorted, nodding at Olberic.
The huntress immediately regretted her own words, making painfully sure to keep her gaze away from the man next to her. She couldn't see it, but Olberic had turned away, too. All the while, neither noticed how Linde glared at the warrior from her spot in the shade. The snow leopard was ready to step in between the pair if needed.
"You riled up Linde, Alfyn," Tressa pointed out. "Come on, let's go! The sun's almost down and we need to get back just when night hits."
Returning to the duel at hand, the apothecary sighed, "Why do I feel like you and Prim have been planning something?"
Tressa winked. "Come on, Alfyn, ya know that us merchants never reveal our secrets."
Without waiting a moment longer, Tressa charged at her opponent with her spear raised, ready to begin and managing to catch Alfyn off-guard.
"Why do we have to do this?"
"Shh! They will hear us!"
"They'll hear you! Haven't I taught you anything about sneaking around?"
"Shh!"
Primrose and Therion argued outside H'aanit, Ophilia, and Linde's room. The former tried peering through the door's keyhole to catch a glimpse of the scene unfolding behind it. The latter stayed leaned against the wall, watching the dancer position herself.
"I need to see how Ophilia does. I taught her a few dance steps today," Primrose whispered behind her hand, her eyes locking onto her targets through the keyhole. "Ah! I can see them!"
Therion shook his head. "Do you honestly think these two innocent little flowers will do anything?"
"Shh!"
"Ugh... okay, but why am I here?"
"Shh!"
"Great," the thief rose his eyes to the ceiling. "Getting involved with a crazy stalker, Therion. Grand move."
Behind the door, in what they presumed to be the privacy of Ophilia's room, Alfyn and the cleric sat at the table next to a window looking over the oasis. Stars reflected from the pool of water, and the cool air felt good after a long, hot day in the desert. Fires lit the pathways around the spring, allowing any passersby the chance to walk in the brisk night without fear of theft, murder, or anything of the like. It truly was a peaceful sight in such a dangerous place.
Both of the room's occupants watched it intently. They tried to turn their attention towards something, anything other than their companion.
Almost simultaneously, they rose the glass of white cactus wine to their mouths, enjoying the sour notes that accented the fermented prickly pear fruit beverage. It tickled their lips, eliciting a giggle from them.
The silence broken, they turned towards each other before directing their eyes at the table, suddenly finding it very interesting. Neither had shown such reluctance with each other before. In fact, both would say that their relationship had developed positively by leaps and bounds. Yet, now alone in a room together, neither could find the words or actions they need to say or do.
Alfyn, for his part, had already been healed by Ophilia after his duel with Tressa. She cared for him more tenderly than usual (which the apothecary didn't think was possible). Her touch left behind a warmth he never thought he could feel. But there it was.
Ophilia, meanwhile, knew what she wanted to do for Alfyn to show him how she felt. Primrose had drilled her dance steps into the cleric's head. Tressa had provided her with dancing attire. Perhaps that was why neither of them could look each other in the eye.
While admittedly covering more of her body than Primrose's usual attire, the cleric was unused to having her midriff, shoulders, and arms bare for anyone to see. Her white attire covered her lower body and chest, but it still took some getting used to. One of the few blessings of her dancer's attire was the veil that covered much of her face from Alfyn's view.
She prayed to Aelfric that it hid her blush from the man's sight.
"So, um... Ophilia," Alfyn started lamely, rubbing the back of his head. "You look, um... g-great! In that... dress?"
"Oh, w-well... thank you," she replied unassuredly, her blush growing deeper.
She couldn't see it, but Alfyn's cheeks had only reddened more, too.
They fell back into their uncomfortable silence, sipping from their glasses. Within each of them warred a battle between their hearts and minds over what to do next. The more emotional side wanted to show the other how they felt; the more logical side wanted to finish their glass of wine and bid their friend a good night.
Alfyn managed to break the silence and speak next. "Is... there any reason you're wearin' it?"
(While neither could see it, Primrose and Therion both smacked their foreheads once they heard that, groaning quietly as they did so.)
Ophilia appeared to shrink even further into her chair. Unbiddenly, tears pricked the corners of her eyes as her entire face glowed a vibrant red.
Maybe she had made a mistake. This couldn't work. After all, she wasn't a dancer like Primrose, so how could she possibly perform like her? Would Alfyn even like it? She mentally berated herself for not answering these questions before she took up the dancer on her offer.
But she did it for a reason. She didn't think Alfyn would speak his feelings for her without a little nudging. She knew she wouldn't speak her feelings for him verbally. So, she determined she had to make the first move.
Primrose agreed. It was why she had helped Ophilia.
The cleric couldn't let that kindness go to waste. Nor could she back out now.
She wanted Alfyn to know how she felt.
Ophilia took a deep breath and then lifted her face up to look at Alfyn. His shift in demeanor immediately indicated he knew he had said something wrong.
"Philia, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?" the apothecary panicked. "Oh, no... I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."
Alfyn stopped midsentence as Ophilia placed a single finger on his lips, gently telling him he didn't have anything to apologize for. A small smile came to her face as her blush and tears slowly started to fade away.
"Alfyn, there is something I have been wanting to tell you for... quite some time now," she started gently. "But I know that neither of us is entirely good with words, so I wanted to show it to you with actions rather than words... that is why I am wearing this outfit tonight."
The cleric gestured to her dancer's regalia as she stood up.
"Primrose taught me a dance today, one that she almost never performed because of the emotions connected to it. I want to perform for you tonight if you would like that."
Stunned silent by the cleric's actions, words, and reasoning, Alfyn could only nod his head.
Ophilia mimicked his action and took her glass of wine, swiftly finishing it off before moving towards the center of the room.
She positioned her arms above her head and extended one of her legs, revealing her barefoot and part of her calf, showcasing a golden ankle bracelet. It jingled melodically as it moved, showing it was more than just jewelry.
For a few brief moments, she held her position, counting out the beats mentally before taking her first step.
Then she let herself go.
Her body moved of its own accord, making sure to keep in time with the beat in her head.
One, and two, and three, and...
Ophilia moved her feet across the floor with subtle, measured motions. The bracelets around her ankle clinked and jingled with each step she took. Every twirl, every shake, every movement.
All of it entranced Alfyn.
With each movement, he found his eyes subconsciously locking on to Ophilia and his jaw going slack. In the back of his mind, he noticed his heart beating faster and his throat becoming dry. Yet a warmth blossomed throughout his body as he watched the cleric perform. As if the dance was meant to illicit, not impure yearnings, but feelings of appreciation, admiration, dedication, happiness. Anything that could be connected to love.
As if the dance itself cast some sort of magic upon the apothecary.
Ophilia brought one of her feet into the air, allowing her to twirl fully on one foot, sending the skirt of her dancer's attire flowing around her. It looked like white-water swimming around her, spiraling towards her body. She was the center, her dress the currents.
Her foot landed and her hands caught the hems of her skirt, bringing her directly into a curtsy. While Ophilia's eyes stayed focused on the ground, her body faced Alfyn.
For a few moments, the only noise inside the room was the cleric's labored breaths. Outside the room, Primrose silently cheered to herself with sparkles in her eyes and giddiness threatening to reveal that she and Therion had been spying on the couple.
The silence started to unnerve Ophilia as her reddened cheeks returned. She chanced a glance at Alfyn to find him unmoving in his chair, still watching her with rapt attention.
"A-Alfyn?" she stuttered unassuredly, rising from her curtsy.
Once she had spoken his name, the apothecary shook his head, bringing him back to reality. "Philia... that was, um... you were..." He obviously couldn't find words at the moment, either.
Some awkward seconds passed with Alfyn tripping over his words before he regained control and stood up from his chair, coughing into his hand.
"Was that for me?"
Ophilia shifted her feet back in forth, the slight jingle of the anklets' bells accompanying her fidgeting. She shyly nodded her head.
That did it.
Knowing that she danced only for him, everything clicked in Alfyn's head.
With a few wide steps, he quickly closed the distance between himself and Ophilia. His arms went around her, bringing her into his embrace. For a moment he paused to look into her deep, brown eyes that watched him like a curious doe.
He rose his hand to her cheek, gently caressing it before bringing his lips to hers.
There, in the room in the cold desert night, they shared their first kiss. Alfyn doing just as Ophilia had done moments ago and letting his actions speak his emotions.
A squeal of delight came from just beyond the door. Too focused on the other, neither the apothecary nor the cleric noticed their friend's happiness at seeing their first blush turn into something more.
"Quiet!" Therion hissed. "Or you're gonna get us-"
Primrose turned to the thief, her eyes staring him down like a pair of daggers.
The sudden shift prompted the dancer to grab her partner's wrist and drag him into his room. She put her hands on her hips irritably, while Therion crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance.
There, they waited for the other to make the first move – whatever that would be. They ignored Olberic when he entered the room and went directly to his bed, they ignored his snoring, and kept each other's attention, neither knowing what to do next. For a long while, they stayed there, letting their eyes try to decipher what motive the other had in adjourning to this room.
Their stubbornness drove them to stand there for hours, with neither giving in to the weight of the other's stare.
As I have said:
To speak one's feelings is, at times, inadequate.
Alfyn and Ophilia had no such trouble putting their feelings on the line when actions could speak louder than their words.
So, they have progressed in their relationship, down a path that could lead to love or heartbreak.
Another certain pair of Travelers seemed to have entered a similar situation that the apothecary and cleric had found themselves in not too long ago.
Now, we shall see what their ignorance and stubbornness bring forth.
But our tales in the desert have ended for the time being.
We must venture on, for there are other stories I have yet to tell.
Other stories you have yet to hear...