Tale Twenty, A Friendly Shoulder
Clouds threatened to bring about rain to the seaside town of Goldshore. Only a few weeks earlier, it had been a beautiful paradise settled at the boundary of the ocean and land on a peninsula. Now, the flip side of the ocean's strength threatened to turn what had started out as a pleasant morning into a disastrous evening. Events for the Octopath Travelers had only seemed to mirror this shift in the weather, even after Ophilia had been nursed back to health by Goldshore's bishop.
"Here, you'll wanna drink this, Philia."
That didn't stop Alfyn from watching over her and ensuring that she stayed in bed at the local inn. Unfortunately, he, Primrose, or Therion had caught her trying to leave more than once. At first, they gave her privacy and sat outside her room to watch over her. But now, she had to be monitored, lest she tried to leave to chase after her sister, again.
The apothecary ensured that wouldn't happen as he gave the cleric her medicine.
He raised a hand to her forehead.
"Glad to see that bishop's medicine is doing its work, but this should help get rid of that fever entirely," he informed with a forced smile.
She responded in kind with a sad smirk. "Thank you, dear."
Alfyn nodded softly, giving her hand a quick squeeze before standing up to join Primrose and Therion. Meanwhile, Ophilia resumed staring out the window towards the horizon, no doubt thinking about her sister and the other half of the Travelers.
"No word from H'aanit and the others," Therion informed Alfyn gruffly, his scarf hiding his mouth and eyes closed in thought. "They should be able to find something out about Saint's sister or this Wispermill place. Otherwise..."
A soft smack on his shoulder stopped the thief from continuing that line of thinking. He briefly glanced at his assailant before making a gruff sound of understanding and returning to his thinking.
Primrose cleared her throat. "They should return by nightfall. H'aanit would not lead them so far astray from the rest of us."
Alfyn nodded and took a seat. "With answers. They wouldn't leave us empty-handed."
While neither of them was entirely sure about their words, they put on their best believing-act to help Ophilia feel more at ease. Even so, she didn't turn towards them to acknowledge what they had said or provide a sense of confirmation.
She couldn't.
After all, her heart was already broken by the news of her adoptive father's death. Ophilia's sister's stealing of Aelfric's Flame and the poisoning of the cleric only strained the poor woman's heart even more.
Alfyn had done all he could to console her and help with her recovery – but it seemed nothing could break his beloved out of her doldrums.
With a grunt, Therion pushed himself from his position against the wall.
He walked out the door, saying, "Be back in a minute."
Once he had closed the door behind him, Primrose sighed. "He could be a little more empathetic."
Alfyn chuckled humorlessly. "'s just the way he is, Prim. You should know that better than the rest of us, yeah? 'sides, 'm sure he has some sort of plan. He's got that thief's heart of gold and whatnot."
"I suppose you are right..."
They waited for Therion to return in silence. Only a few minutes had passed before they heard tapping on the door. Primrose opened it to see the thief's hands full as they carried four mugs of a steaming beverage of some sort. He sidestepped past the dancer and handed her a drink.
Her lips rose in a smirk. "So, this is where you went?"
"Yeah," he replied curtly.
Therion handed Alfyn two of the remaining three mugs.
Primrose blew on her drink before taking a slow, slurping sip as to not scaled her lips. A hint of spice from what could only be spiced rum merged with notes of citrus and cinnamon on her tongue. She reveled in the test, feeling instantly warmed from the chilling ocean breeze that threatened to bring rain to Goldshore.
"Ah, that is pleasant. What is this?" she asked.
Therion shrugged as he returned to his place against the wall. "Asked them for something warm and they gave me this. Said it was made with spiced rum and cider, or something."
He sipped his drink quietly, neutrally humming before taking another sip.
Primrose smirked before doing the same. She knew his subtle movements at this point. The thief liked the drink. No matter how much anyone would ask, he wouldn't admit to whether he liked it or not.
"Sounds like you like it, Therion," Alfyn said happily.
In return, the thief grunted, not hinting at his answer but giving a response that both the apothecary and dancer understood. Primrose chuckled softly. It seemed that she hadn't been the only one to learn how to decipher Therion's subtle gestures and mannerisms.
"'M gonna give this to Philia," Alfyn excused himself.
He returned to his melancholy state and walked over to the resting cleric. Her eyes still searched pleadingly across the horizon for any sign of the remaining Octopath Travelers or her sister.
"Hey, Philia, here. Therion gotcha a drink."
Alfyn snapped Ophilia out of her somber musings. She turned her attention to him and saw that he held a steaming mug out towards her. She nodded her head in thanks and reached for the mug with both of her hands. As she did, she subconsciously let her fingers linger on Alfyn's for a moment as they tried to create some semblance of comfort for Ophilia.
Like Primrose, Ophilia blew on the drink before taking a steady sip. A small smile came to her lips. The drink, Alfyn, and her friends helped to revive her spirits if only a little. Tears welled up in her eyes, which she slowly wiped away.
"This drink reminds me a little bit of the mulled wine we would have from time to time at the Flamesgrace Tavern. It always tickled my lips with its warmth; this drink tastes different, but it has the same effect."
Ophilia turned her attention to the thief. "Thank you, Therion."
He only nodded in her direction before returning to his staring contest with Primrose. Their duel of wits had recommenced, and it seemed something about the man-who-hid-behind-his-scarf had become known to the dancer.
"They'll never stop starin' each other down like that," Alfyn commented with a friendly tone as he sat down on Ophilia's bed.
"No, I do not think they will," the cleric agreed.
"So, tell me a bit 'bout Flamesgrace and this mulled wine. Never been up there, so never tried it."
The cleric nodded thankfully at Alfyn, happy that her partner had brought up the subject.
"It is always cold there, even in the spring and summer. Being so close to the peak of a mountain, Flamesgrace usually does not have warm days," Ophilia continued. "So, when Lianna and I had come of age, His Excellency would treat us to mulled wine from the tavern on especially cold days when we had all finished our duties at the Cathedral. We would sit there, basking in the warmth of family, drinks, and the tavern, and swap stories of the day between each other."
Ophilia drew in a long, unsteady breath before releasing it quickly. "This drink and cold night bring back some of those memories. Even though His Excellency may have... passed on, and Lianna stole Aelfric's Flame, I cannot help but feel the same comfort here and now."
The tears that had welled up in Ophilia's eyes started to spill over. She closed her eyelids and tried to will herself to stop her crying. But the more she tried, the more she felt the warmth of the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Then, she felt herself in a warm embrace.
She opened her eyes, half-expecting and half-hoping Lianna or the Archbishop to be holding her in their arms. Instead she smelt the familiar scent of grass and felt the comfortable leather that could only belong to Alfyn.
For a moment, Ophilia didn't know what to do. Eventually, she slowly wrapped her arms around her partner and basked in the comfort and strength he gave her. A fleeting memory of their conversation at Saintsbridge sprang forth from the back of her mind.
So, if ever you feel that doubt or other nasty feelins', just remember to believe in the me that believes in you.
Then, the cleric openly wept into Alfyn's shoulder.
The couple stayed like that for a few minutes as Ophilia cried. Neither of them moved as he poured out her sorrow and frustration. Even the one tasked with carrying Aelfric's Flame couldn't hold in such damaging emotions without venting. Her adoptive father's death and sister's betrayal only further hurt her.
Alfyn rubbed her back and silently made himself known to her as Ophilia poured out her emotions.
Primrose and Therion watched from across the room. They felt like they were intruding on a private moment, but they stayed put. Both the dancer and the thief knew that they remained there for the same reason that Alfyn now comforted the distraught cleric: Ophilia was their friend and they wanted to help her as best as they could.
If that meant watching an emotional scene between a couple while waiting for their turn to help, then they resigned themselves to such a role without issue.
They sipped their drinks, smiling softly and at least knowing that, if anything, Alfyn could help guide Ophilia away from the edge of the cliff, and vice versa.
Even so, reality would rear its ugly head into the cleric's life soon enough. What would pertain towards that reality, no one could predict.
"Primrose, what do you think about the odds here?" Therion asked grimly.
The dancer took a deep breath, letting her chestnut bangs shield her eyes from Therion. Yet the thief didn't even look her way, knowing that his words alone would be more than what Primrose wanted.
"Prim," he nudged sincerely.
She released a breath she had held in for the few seconds in between Therion's words.
"Hm?" she tried to innocently play off his question.
Therion sighed. "What do you think the odds are that Saint's sister told her the truth? That her dad's dead and she betrayed her?"
"Too high to comfortably say that Ophilia will be okay with the answer."
No one wanted to hear that answer.
"That's what I thought..." Therion paused to finish his drink. "Guess we'll just have to wait for Wildling's group to get back, yeah?"
"It would seem that way," Primrose mumbled.
She raised her head and Therion could finally examine the emotions swirling behind the dancer's eyes.
They were dimmed by sadness and plagued by an uncertain anxiousness that swirled within them. An uneasy feeling swelled in Therion's heart as he saw the dancer react so to the news. He didn't even feel this strongly after seeing the heart-wrenching scene between Alfyn and Ophilia. But now, witnessing his verbal sparring partner, his thieving mentee, his... friend, so distraught about Ophilia affected Therion more than he cared to admit.
And he knew that Primrose not only had the apothecary and cleric to worry about but her own troubles, too.
A chill sped down Therion's spine after thinking about what Primrose's path might entail. Something didn't sit right with her story and some of its details. He just couldn't figure out what that could be and hoped he didn't realize it too late.
Therion shook his head and Primrose recomposed herself. They had other things to focus on at the moment.
They sighed at the same time. Neither acknowledged that they had.
"He'll be there for her," Therion assured quietly. "Alfyn's a good one. Don't know what he sees in me as a friend, but he's a good one. He'll look after her, I know that much."
At his reassurance, Primrose smiled softly. "I hope you are right. Because I know that Ophilia will give Alfyn the comfort he'll need to face his own problems in the future. Yet I've worried whether he has the strength to do the same."
"You've seen what Mountain's been putting him through. They'll be fine."
Primrose turned to Therion and arched her brow.
"Are you basing your conclusions on his training alone? But that's just physical strength."
The thief sputtered a sound of disagreement and pointed towards his head. "No, it's not. It takes dedication here, too. Anyone that can survive Mountain's training and come out the other side better for it, then they're strong in every way."
At Therion's assertion, Primrose turned towards Alfyn and Ophilia. A look of surprise etched itself on her face.
The couple had broken apart from their hug but were speaking normally with a few bouts of laughter here and there. Alfyn held onto one of the cleric's hands with both of his. Within moments, they had shared in Ophilia's sorrow, relied on each other, and came out... seemingly better for it.
Primrose smirked. "I believe you're getting too close to us, dear Therion."
While knowing that he had finished his drink, the thief took a swig of his empty cup to hide the blush creeping up his face.
Instead of replying negatively, he instead said, "Guess it's not too bad, either..."
When one has suffered alone, whether within a brief frame of time or for much of their life, they may find it difficult to entrust their troubles to others.
As with any other feelings, sadness and suffering are intimate emotions that are, at times, far too personal to share – no matter how painful they may be.
Ophilia, having learned of her adoptive father's death and betrayed by her last remaining kin, had experienced more than her fair share of distress within hours;
Therion, having been betrayed so horribly before, carried his burdens within him for longer than he had known;
Yet trusting someone as an equal, not as a crutch, helped in the cleric's and the thief's individual paths...