Tale Twenty-One, Does a Wilting Rose have Thorns?

H'aanit, Linde, and Tressa ran up the stairs of the inn after hearing what had happened to Primrose. They had rushed from the fields outside Noblecourt where they were hunting, and the two huntresses were practicing their archery.

As they came to her room, the door swung open.

Therion stomped out of it, the fringe of his white hair covering his eyes and the hem of his scarf hiding his mouth. Even though neither huntress could read his features, they knew by the way he walked and held himself that he was a man with a purpose.

Before anyone could stop him, he stormed down the inn's stairs. They heard the door to the establishment open and close swiftly.

H'aanit and Tressa exchanged a glance with each other before they heard more rushing footsteps coming from Primrose's room.

"Therion, wait!" Alfyn cried.

He watched the stairs for a brief moment and then turned towards his friends, noticing them for the first time.

"H'aanit, Tress, did Therion just rush off by himself?" he asked urgently.

"Yeah, we heard what happened when we came in. Is Primrose okay?" Tressa pressed the apothecary.

He shook his head. "'M not sure. The medicine she was given is workin', but it's still touch 'n go. Cyrus and Philia are takin' care of her now. Sorry, you'll have to ask 'em, I gotta go catch up with Therion. Let's go, Olberic!"

The mountain of a man in question appeared in the doorway.

"Of course," he replied simply.

Alfyn ran down the stairs.

Olberic nodded in greeting at H'aanit, Linde, and Tressa before taking off after Alfyn.

Everyone seemed to be in a rush and they knew why. However, they didn't know how things had turned out or how they were going.

So, they entered the room to be met with the sight of Cyrus and Ophilia kneeling on either side of Primrose's bed.

The dancer laid there, her eyes closed and breathing labored. Even from their position in the doorway, the huntresses noticed the sweat gathered around her forward and her ghostly white skin that didn't resemble her usual healthy, tan hue at all.

"Prim!" Tressa exclaimed worriedly.

The merchant rushed to her side, haphazardly depositing her bow and arrows towards a forgotten spot of the room. She came up to Cyrus, who concentrated on directing healing magic towards the dancer.

He paid no attention to Tressa. "The cleansing is working, Sister Ophilia. I believe the worst has passed."

The cleric took a step back and wiped her forearm across her forehead. "I believe you are right, Professor. Now, she needs rest. I will stay with her, could you take the first watch?"

With a flourish of his cloak, the scholar bowed affirmatively. "But of course. Please, do alert me if you require my aid."

Cyrus didn't acknowledge H'aanit, Linde, or Tressa as he walked purposefully past them towards the door. He exited the room, positioning himself on the other side, ready to guard its entrance.

Tressa replaced where he had been standing. She grasped onto Primrose's hand and gasped at how cold to the touch it had become. Tears started to well up in the merchant's eyes.

"What happened?" H'aanit asked.

She had finished carefully setting aside her and her apprentice's equipment. Meanwhile, Linde had taken up her post at the base of Primrose's bed, curling herself up as if to sleep. Yet H'aanit knew her companion stayed ever alert.

The huntress came to Ophilia's side as she rose from her chair.

"Primrose was stabbed during her infiltration of her family's manse."

Sadness and worry laced themselves within the cleric's tone and etched themselves upon her features.

H'aanit watched Primrose carefully.

"Luckily, a former city watchman gave her first aid and it slowed the bleeding. It brought us enough time to bring her here and enlist Cyrus's help. Without it... Primrose may have already been lost."

"And now?" H'aanit asked.

Ophilia stayed silent far longer than either H'aanit or Tressa would have liked.

Then she spoke softly, "Primrose is stable, but the rest of her recovery will depend on her. I think she will live, but... I do not know much else right now. Cyrus and I will keep watch over her in shifts and wait for Alfyn to return. We could really use him here."

H'aanit sighed and her brow furrowed. "Yet someone musten rush after that blasted thief. Ophilia, couldst thou tellen me why Therion ran off?"

"He wants to find the man who did this to Primrose," she answered simply.

Despite the situation, Tressa chuckled unamusedly.

"Should've known he'd do that. Once Prim finds out 'bout that, I don't know if she'll mess with him about it or scold him."

All three women smiled lightly at the gallant, yet brash behavior Therion exhibited.

A knock on the door broke them away from their musings. They briefly turned from one to the other before H'aanit nodded her head. Tressa grabbed and readied her bow, just in case. The red-haired huntress grabbed the door handle and opened the door a crack.

"Yes?" she spoke.

"Do not worry, dear H'aanit," came the all-too-familiar flowery speech of Professor Albright. "It is just I, Cyrus. I have brought some warm drinks for you to partake in while you watch over fair Primrose."

Sighing audibly, H'aanit opened the door to Cyrus carrying a trey of four steaming mugs.

"Four 'hot toddies,' as the innkeeper informed me. A local delicacy they share on cold nights like these. One for each of you and Primrose when she awakes – though there is a splash of whiskey in this, so she may not want it at this moment."

The huntress took the trey from the professor. He smiled softly, furled his cloak around him, and bowed slightly.

"I shall stay guard out here for the time being until it is my turn to watch over our precious patient. Please, let me know if any of you young ladies require anything else."

With that, Cyrus closed the door, leaving behind a stunned room of women.

H'aanit turned around with the drinks and stared at her friends for a moment.

Then, Tressa burst out in laughter. H'aanit and Ophilia joined her, the former setting down the trey on a table and handing out drinks to her friends. The atmosphere became lighter after they each had a warm drink in hand and an amusing interaction with Cyrus.

"Does he not know that he's flirtatious?" Ophilia questioned. "His words are still so flowery and meant for a woman he fancies."

"Even after that conversation we had with him, he still can't talk to women," Tressa answered giddily. "It's a little cute, to be honest, but I bet the innkeeper gave him these drinks on the house because of how he spoke to her. Not that I'm complaining or anything."

The merchant blew some of the steam away from the mug before taking a slurping sip of her hot toddy. She hummed pleasantly. "It's like tea with honey, but that whiskey gives a little bit extra oomph to it. I like it!"

"Agreed. 'Tis quite soothing," H'aanit added. "Reminds me of times when Master wouldst watchen over me whilst I weren ill."

"And I with His Excellency," Ophilia chimed in.

"And my mom and dad," Tressa finished.

They remained silent for a while after that as they thought about their individual pasts. Comfort seeped into their bones with each sip of their drink and each fleeting memory. While cold outside, the warmth in the room shared by these companions warded it away. By the time someone next spoke, they each smiled softly as they returned from their trips into their memories.

"Master wouldst always have a hot toddy for me and him when I awoke," H'aanit recalled with faint amusement. "He couldst never stop indulging in his drink, even whilst I weren ill. Thought that mayst be, I still rememberen the warmth and comfort he brought me."

"Sounds like he was a caring father-figure," Ophilia surmised happily. "His Excellency was the same, though he would never partake in such a drink while watching over me. But we would all share one together once my illness had passed."

Tressa chuckled. "Guess we all grew up in happy households, huh?"

"Yes, save Primrose," Ophilia muttered softly.

Again, sadness covered the room as everyone's thoughts returned to the recovering dancer. Thankfully, her breathing had returned to a normal, slow pace and she seemed to be in a deep slumber. Even though they felt that Primrose was in good hands, they still thought that maybe she would like to wake up to friends around her.

And that was exactly what Tressa knew.

"Then we should be here for her. Maybe she has some happy stories to tell about her times with her father or her friends in Sunshade. I think she'd like that!"

Her words came out happy and full of warmth, only providing more protection against the cold night that threatened to overtake the room.

"We're her family, after all, right? It only seems fair that we're here for her when she wakes up. She deserves to know she has us looking after her."

H'aanit and Ophilia glanced at each other briefly before breaking out in soft laughter.

Tressa's face instantly turned red. "J-just a thought, anyway..."

"It's more than alright, Tressa. Your positivity just brings so much happiness to us that we could not contain it," Ophilia explained. "You are right, we need to be here for Primrose. She's our friend and she deserves to know she has people here for her."

H'aanit nodded. "I agree with thou. Thou art quite the wordsmith when thou wishes to be."

The merchant blinked twice before realizing what the other two women had said. A wide smile grew on her face, one that hurt her cheeks. But Tressa didn't care. Instead, she was happy that she could say that H'aanit, Linde, Ophilia, and Primrose weren't just traveling companions or friends.

They were her family.

And family would always be there to take care of one another.

Just then, they heard a groan from Primrose's bed. All eyes turned towards the dancer. She sat up in her bed, her hair disheveled and her face still slightly paler than usual.

"All of you are quite loud when someone's sleeping."

"Prim!" Tressa exclaimed boisterously.

The merchant jumped into the bed and wrapped Primrose in a bigger hug than anyone in the room thought capable of the smallest member of the Octopath Travelers. Drinks, conversation, and irony forgotten, the two other women came to the dancer's bed, happy to see that she had awakened.

Ophilia sighed in relief. "Thank the gods that you're awake."

"Thou had taken ill quite seriously," H'aanit added. "Art thou feeling better?"

Primrose groaned painfully as Tressa shifted off of the dancer, relieving the uncomfortable pressure she felt in her side. Her eyes shifted down towards her bandaged midsection where a dried red stain on white linen indicated where Simeon had stabbed her.

"I still feel exhausted, but it seems the bleeding has stopped," she spoke somberly. Tears prickled her eyes as her drowsiness lifted its protective blanket from her mind. "Simeon... my father, my home, my life... he was the one who took them all away from me?"

Her gaze shifted towards Ophilia, pleading with the cleric to tell the dancer that all of this was a dream, or a mistake, or a side-effect of having been unconscious for so long.

Ophilia opened her mouth to speak. Words wouldn't leaver her, however, as she knew that they would only do more harm than good. So, she stayed silent and looked at her hands, making sure not to lift her head to avoid Primrose's questioning eyes.

But it was too late, and she knew it. Ophilia's actions had said enough.

A tear trailed down Primrose's cheek. "So, it's all true... Simeon did this."

While the dancer could only stare sadly at her bed covers, H'aanit and Tressa watched her carefully. They turned their attention towards Ophilia, hoping she could provide answers.

"Isn't Simeon...?" Tressa asked, her question hanging in the air.

Ophilia nodded sadly.

"And he hath harmed Primrose?" H'aanit followed up.

Again, the cleric nodded.

Tressa growled angrily. "That bastard, who does he think he is!? I wish I'd known, then I would have gone with the guys to find him and give him a piece of my mind!"

"Tressa," Ophilia pleaded.

Before the merchant could ask her friend what she had meant, her eyes landed on Primrose. While still just as quiet, tears had started streaking down her face continuously.

Tressa calmed down and returned to the dancer's side.

"Prim..."

She didn't react to anyone's words.

So, instead of trying to talk to her, Tressa hugged the dancer again. This time, she did so more gently. A few tears clung to the corners of the merchant's eyes, too, as she shared in her friend's feelings of sorrow and loss.

Tressa wasn't the only one to comfort Primrose.

Linde jumped onto the foot of the dancer's bed and curled up at her feet. She purred gently.

Following the snow leopard, H'aanit and Ophilia joined in comforting the dancer. They both hugged her alongside Tressa, ensuring that she knew they were there and they would stay there for her until she felt ready to talk about what had happened.

What was more, after having listened to parts of the trio's conversation as she woke from her slumber, Primrose's tears only fell faster. They really did care for her and would make sure she knew how precious to them she had become.

They watched over each other, cared for each other's wounds, listened to each other's worries, and dried each other's tears.

They, and the other members of the Octopath Travelers, were family.

Primrose let them keep hugging her while she tried to hide her face from their view.

In between increasingly louder sobs, Primrose could only mutter two words:

"Thank you."

What can one do when they have lost their family?

They can move on – painfully or painlessly, slowly or quickly;

They can vow revenge upon those who had taken their lives away so soon;

They can try to reconnect with them when they feel their family and them have grown;

Or, when the time, place, and people are right, they can find a new family.

Or a new family can find them, as the Octopath Travelers had with Primrose.

Because, whether by blood or by bond, everyone needs a family there for them at the worst of times...