Tale Twenty-Eight, Left with an Empty Heart
His body gave a last shuddering breath in her arms as she plunged the dagger just below his breast into his heart.
Partway to his death, Simeon's final gasp of life turned into a strangled gurgle as he choked on the blood filling his lungs. Then, nothing.
Lifeless eyes stared back at Primrose, not accusingly, they were past such a point now. No, they wanted to know what the dancer would do after avenging her father's death.
She couldn't give them, or Simeon, an answer.
Neither in life nor in death.
A hollowness rang through her as she realized this, warring with the part of her that had succeeded in finally avenging her father.
For now, telling him that and finally seeing the Azelhart patriarch's grave, would fill her empty heart. But no sooner after that would that emptiness return and she would have to find a new purpose.
Primrose glanced back at her fellow Travelers as they waited for her, watched her. Their eyes rang with pity and, in most other circumstances, Primrose would shrug it off and reply with something witty. But now, here, so completely drained, she only wanted reassurance and comfort.
Yet, instead of seeking such, she stood up and gave Simeon's corpse one more cursory glance before turning to her friends and saying:
"Let's go."
Ophilia, Tressa, and Therion nodded slowly but didn't say anything, understanding there was nothing to be said at this moment.
They turned and disappeared beyond the curtains of Simeon's theatre box.
Primrose followed them, turning briefly to watch the final scene of the play below her.
The female lead held the male lead in her arms, his hands holding the fake knife in place as equally fake ribbons of blood poured forth from his fake wound as his fake death drew nearer.
And the female lead cried her fake tears read her fake lines and mourned her fake love as he played his part.
All of it was a hollow mirrored echo of what sort of scene had just played out between Primrose and Simeon, unknowingly to the rest of the theatre-goers. The true play had ended and its imposters, too, followed suit.
Curtains drew, the tragedy came full circle, and now the theatre was left with nothing but astounding applause.
Primrose liked to think it was for them - for her. It was only fitting after all.
She couldn't help smirk at the irony as she walked away from this stage of her life to the next, much like the actors below her would soon do.
"There you are, Father, your glass of sherry."
Primrose placed one of the two glasses she had poured next to her father's gave. The amber liquid shimmered within its crystal glass confines as the rays of the setting sun danced through the clear receptacle, creating a dazzling display of rainbows.
Primrose stood from her kneeling position, smiling lightly at the display. "You always did like your sherry before dinner. I'm happy to see that that has not changed. Cheers, Father."
The dancer rose her glass to her father's grave, taking a tentative sip of the drink. Its nutty, warm flavor caressed her mouth, creating hints of bittersweetness along the back of her tongue. Not altogether unpleasant, but a divergent path from the darker red wines she preferred to share in the company of her friends.
Yet, she enjoyed it all the same. Ever since she understood alcohol's importance to social life, Primrose wanted to share a drink with a father.
Now, at least once, she could.
Even so, she commented, "I'll never understand how you drank this so easily every night, Father."
A jest, but one that showed Primrose was on the right path - one that she wanted to set for herself.
Taking another sip, Primrose continued her story. "But that is how I came here. Simeon and the others who killed you are now burning in the hells below us. I could not have done it without my newfound friends and now I'll stay with them until we have all seen our questions answered."
Of course, like those before her, she joined her fellow Travelers in stating she would help those still on their journeys until the end. A bond like she had with her friends, her new family, would never be broken so easily. To top it off, after her night with Therion, she knew well that she couldn't abandon those she cared for, it would be hypocritical of her.
"And yet, I still want to find my own way to cure my emptiness after all is said and done. All purposes seem to be fleeting, only helping us survive for so long before we must find a new path."
Primrose smiled to herself. "Right now, I have that purpose, as I did before I confronted Simeon, and so I shall after we all part ways. I believe it will have something to do with dance, that is what made you happy after all. If I can spread that happiness to others so that they can do the same, then I believe I shall have a full heart.
"But that will have to wait until we have all seen the conclusion of our journeys throughout Orsterra, no? When that happens, I will return and speak with you, again. Perhaps, I might have another bottle of sherry with me."
Primrose chuckled, happy to speak with her father again after having been away for so many years. It brought a peace about her that she didn't think she could ever feel. Of course, it would be fleeting for the time being, but perhaps more permanent after she returned. Her thoughts focused on the tasks ahead, however, her sharing of dance and retaking of her house would have to wait until after they had been completed.
As if her unspoken words beckoned forth those she thought of, she heard a voice behind her.
"Quite the spot for your old man's eternal rest. You really do come from money," Therion joked, breaking any serious atmosphere before it built up. "Ouch!"
He yelped as Primrose turned to face him.
She saw Tressa with a clenched fist glaring at her protege with puffed-up cheeks.
"Hey! Be nice, Therion!"
The thief rubbed his shoulder. "Geez, where did you get such a solid punch like that."
The merchant rose her chest, fists coming to her hips. "Just a nice, little side effect from learning how to shoot a bow with H'aanit. She really puts you through the wringer!"
"It's not doing me any favors…"
"Nay, but Tressa hath saved thou from more than one fire with what skills I hath imparted to her," H'aanit chimed in behind the pair, standing taller than either of them.
Linde watched from her prone spot underneath a tree, lounging lazily and yawning to accentuate her point.
"Geez, don't hafta all gang up on poor Therion there," Alfyn chimed in, rubbing his head.
Next to him was Ophilia, hands in front of her as she sent a short prayer to Aelfric. A shimmer shone from her left ring finger as her engagement ring sparkled in the light of the sun. Their engagement was met with many cheers and accompanying drinks when they broke the news to their fellow Travelers.
She looked up from her hands. "To be fair, dear, I believe ganging up on Therion might be helping raise Primrose's spirit."
"Even Saint's teaming up on me? Geez, guy can't catch a break today. Only missing Mountain and Teach," Therion replied leadingly.
"Indeed, you are in a prime position for some badgering. Shall it continue?" Cyrus pondered seriously.
Olberic guffawed. "I believe you deserve it and then some, Therion."
The thief in question sighed good-naturedly, taking the jabs as they came easily enough. After all, the scene earned a few laughs from Primrose, so it must've been worth it.
"Oh, so our duel has turned into a one-sided war, has it?" Primrose joked with conniving, knowing eyes directed at the thief. "Well, I think I shall let this slide for now, but don't let your guard down just yet, Therion. We are still playing after all."
The white-haired man rose his arms up and smirked beneath his scarf. "Didn't even cross my mind."
The dancer laughed once more before returning to her father's grave. She heard her friends join her and could feel their familiar, comforting presence. A subtle shift to her side and a glance of purple from out of the corner of her eye let her know that Therion stood next to her, too.
"So, this is your dad?" he started unassuredly.
"Yes, this is my father."
She turned her body towards her companions. "Everyone, this is Father. Father, these are my friends, the people who've given me… a new place to call home."
A few tears built up behind the dancer's eyes as she openly spoke about her newfound family as such for the first time.
"It's nice to meet you, um… sir," Therion ventured first after some silence.
"Heh, Therion bein' first meetin' Primrose's dad, huh? Never knew it'd be that easy to pressure him into somethin'," Alfyn prodded playfully.
A glare was sent towards the apothecary from the thief. "Watch it there, Alfyn."
He only laughed in response, everyone else joining him as he did so.
Quieting down, Primrose said, "Thank you, everyone. I hope my father knows that I'm in good hands with all of you. It would make him happy to know there's more waiting for me after avenging him. There's actually another reason I came here today."
Brunette curls fluttered behind the dancer as she walked towards her father's grave. A small breeze blew through the bangles she wore on her wrists and ankles causing them to shimmer together lightly. She rose her arms above her, sticking one leg out to her side, readying to perform.
"Father always encouraged me to pursue dancing and enjoyed watching my performances. So, I wanted to perform for both him and all of you after everything we have been through so far," Primrose stated.
Without waiting for anyone else to speak, she took her first step.
A magnificent sight then unfolded before the Octopath Travelers, leaving them in awe.
Wind skirted around Primrose, twirling with her as she took her first twirl on a pirouette, raising her leg into the sky.
Then, as if carried on the breeze blowing under her, she leaped through the air, arms directing her forward. From there, a gust took hold of her outstretched hand, prompting her to spin on the balls of her toes.
Once
Twice.
Thrice.
Primrose's feet brought her back to where she had started, before she reached her fingers out as far as they could reach, collapsed back into herself, fell to the ground, and rolled to her knees. A cocoon of the increasingly blustery wind rolled along with the dancer, seemingly protecting her.
She swiftly jutted her left leg out, her left arm following it and her right arm pointing towards her father's grave. With her right arm, the breeze rolled down her shoulder, past her wrist, and off her finger, brushing towards where her father now rested.
And then, as it had with Primrose, the wind, twirling the loose leaves atop the raised mound of dirt, rose from the ground around a seemingly invisible figure.
For a brief moment, the Octopath Travelers witnessed a veiled figure of a man, outlined by the gust of fluttering leaves.
Within that moment itself, Primrose could have sworn she briefly saw the familiar smile of her father before the leaves fell back to the ground and the gust of wind continued upwards to return to the sky.
He had finally found his way to the heavens, his daughter sent him there with a final dance.
Primrose could only stare up towards the clouds and her father. For a moment, she remained motionless, unable to believe what she had seen. Then, she smiled.
"Thank you, Father."
Taking a deep breath, she picked up the bottle of sherry she placed next to her father's grave. Joining the Octopath Travelers, Primrose ventured, "I believe we should miss the tavern tonight. After all, there is a manse in town that I happen to have the keys to and it also has a few more bottles of sherry and wine that could use some attention. It's in our best interest to celebrate there, is it not?"
Therion smirked. "I think the lady has the right idea."
With a circular motion of his hand, the thief pointed in the direction of the Azelhart Manse.
"Shall we?"
A resounding cheer echoed from the Octopath Travelers. They all turned to leave the cemetery, talking amongst themselves as they did. Save Therion, who waited for Primrose with a knowing look.
The dancer joined him at his side before they followed their friends. She passed him the bottle of sherry and he took it without a second thought.
It was the opening Primrose had wanted.
"I noticed your eyes were following me the entire time."
Without missing a beat, Therion handed the bottle back to the dancer. "So did the rest of them."
Primrose puffed her cheeks. "You sure know how to sweep a woman off of her feet…"
Therion chuckled. "I do. But I couldn't take my eyes off of you."
That earned a throaty laugh from Primrose, realizing he had set her up for that. She nudged him with her hip as she took another sip from the bottle of sherry. They departed the cemetery, leaving behind a gravestone of a content man and two empty glasses that had, only moments ago, contained his favorite drink.
Left alone with revenge and grief, people can turn into a monstrous image of their former selves.
When one's revenge is completed, they wouldn't know what to do with themselves then.
But with purpose and people one cares about, they will find their way.
Primrose knows her way for the present moment and will discover her way in the future as she thinks of what will give her life purpose.
A heart without a path is empty; a heart with purpose is full…