Tale Twenty-Nine, As a Shield for Those in Need
They had arrived in Cobbleston on their way to the Merchants' Fair in Grandport, Olberic's conversation with Erhardt fresh in his mind, even days after the fall of Werner and their victory in Riverford. The once vibrant riverside town would become so once more now that the authoritarian lord had met his end. Serving together, side by side, to help the people of the town only reminded the former Knights of Hornburg of their vows of chivalry to those whom they protected. After all, if one could only raise a sword to protect themselves and not those they were meant to protect, then they would meet a doomed fate all too similar to Werner's.
Both men had agreed on this as they had parted their separate ways - Erhardt to serve Orsterra and Olberic to protect his fellow Travelers.
Yes, with his companions and friends. For now, that was where his sword must stay.
Even as they crossed the threshold of Cobbleston, Olberic stood stalwart.
"Sir Olberic! Look, I've been practicing!"
Even as he deflected the surprise attack from his squire, Philip, and remarked on his growth, Olberic stood stalwart.
"Everyone! Sir Olberic's back!"
Even as the villagers of Cobbleston, those he had protected for many years after leaving behind his path as a knight, swarmed him and welcomed him back, Olberic stood stalwart.
Yet he smiled at their growth and being able to see them all.
Even if it was only for one night.
The warrior rose his hands, calming the adults' murmurings down and pausing the children's scurrying attempts at stealing Therion's scarf and petting Linde.
With a gentle, yet strong voice, he remarked, "It is good to be back."
The villagers cheered in response, requiring Olberic to raise his hands good-naturedly once more.
"Yet, I am afraid that, for the time being, it will be for but one night."
That silenced the villages.
Only for a moment, though, as some of the adults rushed to their houses and the inn, other adults went to Olberic's side to guide him towards the inn, and the children grabbed onto the other Travelers to follow them.
A franticness ran through Cobbleston that Olberic had not seen before.
"What's going on, Headman?" he asked as the elderly leader of the village took hold of his arm.
"There's not a moment to lose, Olberic!" The Village Headman explained cheerfully. "We must celebrate your return, as short as it might be! We've been preparing for your eventual return to us and we had hoped to mark the occasion with days of feasting!"
"Alas, we can only make do with one," a woman mourned in jest. She looked to Olberic with a smile, "Then I guess we'll have to make it a celebration to remember and hear all about your grandiose tales!"
They came closer to the inn and the Octopath Travelers could hear hurried movements and shouts coming from the building.
Olberic smiled. "We are happy to accept, but you need not trouble yourselves so greatly at our expense."
"Oh, hush! We're prepared, anyway! It'll take no time at all," the woman declared.
That struck the warrior as odd.
"Prepared? How did you know I would be arriving today?"
"That old fool Teller, gods bless him, told us you would be here by week's end," the Village Headman explained. "He's never been wrong about you before, so we took him at his word. Damn if he wasn't right this time, too!"
"He's a wizard, I tell you!" the woman exclaimed.
"Nah, 'e's just a bard," a rushed, passing man joked.
"Whoever he is, we must thank him next time he comes to Cobbleston," the Village Headman declared.
As he did so, he dragged Olberic into the inn as the villagers around him continued their frantic pace of preparing a feast.
Meanwhile, the warrior was left dumbfounded. "Teller?"
"The man must have a mystical gift of some sort. Clairvoyance, such as this, is by no means a coincidence," Cyrus hypothesized.
The scholar produced his journal from his hip pack, scribbling notes furiously. No doubt they were on Teller's latest exploit of foresight.
The Octopath Travelers were guided to a table that could sit all of them. Their hosts left to tend to preparations and cooking for the celebration they were having in Olberic's honor. Several villagers scurried back and forth, in and out of the inn, doing whatever needed to be done for the feast that was sure to come.
For their part, the Travelers stayed in their seats as they were served snifters of Highlands scotch. A peaty caramel aroma wafted into the nostrils of the men and women, beckoning them to take a sip of the heady liquid. They all did just that at the same time and felt the heat cure them of the cold chill that had slowly crept into their bones as they ascended the mountainous countryside.
Not only that, but any thought of them helping the villagers - which Olberic knew they would immediately turn down, anyway - drifted from the Octopath Travelers' minds.
They relaxed into their seats.
Some didn't for long, however, after a pair of shy kids walked up to Linde, wearily outstretching their hands for the snow leopard to sniff. She glanced at H'aanit, who nodded with a small smile.
Then, Linde licked the little girl's fingers, earning a giggle from the pair. The little boy decided to join in, talking with H'aanit as he did so.
Meanwhile, the little girl could only stare at H'aanit and Ophilia in awe, mentioning how pretty she thought the two women were. They thanked the child, as Therion watched from a chair close to the wall, slowly drinking from his scotch.
"Betcha he's thinkin' that he wishes he could pet Linde," Olberic overheard Alfyn mention to Tressa.
"Oooh, I'll take that action!" the merchant replied gleefully.
"Heard that," Therion stated, his mouth hidden behind his drink.
The apothecary and merchant giggled in response.
Tressa turned to Olberic and Cyrus.
"Boy, you two look serious. What's eatin' at ya?" she asked.
Before either could speak, Tressa took a small sip of the scotch before grimacing at its taste and setting it on the table.
The three men chuckled.
Cyrus, taking a satisfying sip of his scotch for good measure, spoke up first. "Well, I cannot speak for Sir Olberic, but I, myself, am thinking of how Teller could have predicted that we would be coming here."
"Well, duh, isn't it obvious?"
Tressa's question only prompted the raven-haired scholar to shake his head.
"He's Alephan!"
That answer was not what anyone had expected.
"You mean the Sage of the Gods? That Alephan?"
"Yeah, why not? After all, he knows everything about us, so he's gotta be a pretty smart guy, right?" Tressa led her friends down her line of thinking. "If he knows so much about us and can tell our futures, then he'd have to be the smartest person in Orsterra! So, Alephan, the Sage."
Her line of reasoning couldn't be questioned. At least, that was what Olberic had thought, but it still didn't quite put all of the pieces to the puzzle together. That was his line of reasoning, anyway.
"While a good hypothesis, it could be that using one of the gods as an explanation would be far too convenient," Cyrus countered. "Would you not think so, as well, Sir Olberic?"
Bringing a hand to his chin, the warrior mulled over the scholar's words.
"I am not sure myself," he began. "But, Professor, sometimes an answer can be convenient. Mayhaps it is Alephan."
Alfyn jumped in. "Ya know, I was thinkin' somethin' like that, too! But I think it's Bifelgan, the Trader. After all, Teller travels all the time and deals in a currency of sorts."
"Stories?" Tressa hazard a guess.
"Yup!"
"But as a merchant, I would recognize if it was Bifelgan, don't you think?"
"Well, wouldn't Professor Albright recognize Alephan if Teller was Alephan?"
Tressa made to respond, but could only mutter, "Good point…"
"I believe you are on the right track, Tressa," Olberic mused to himself. "A man with the means to see all that has yet to unfurl, but it appears his power is only limited to us, at this juncture."
Cyrus closed his notebook, having continued writing in it ever since the topic of the bard came up. "Conjecture, Sir Olberic. We only know that his power reaches us, but that does not mean there are powers we cannot see or have not witnessed, as of yet. He may very well be a god or goddess, one that we do not know of at this point."
"Then we still do not know if he is friend or foe."
The scholar tapped a finger to his chin. "I do believe he is a friend. Of course, that is my own conjecture, but it is also based on observed facts."
Cyrus rose a finger. "One, he has not harmed us."
Cyrus rose another finger. "Two, he has guided us, namely Ophilia, to some degree."
Cyrus rose a final finger. "Three, we have shared in food, drink, and stories with him. From my research, if the man is a being beyond our understanding, then sharing in simple pleasures such as those would satisfy and befriend him to us more than any of us could know."
All four of the Travelers participating in this discussion took the time to think on Cyrus's hypothesis, nodding their heads in agreement as they came to a silent conclusion.
Even if they had deciphered Teller as a friend and a potential otherworldly being, there was still one question that plagued Tressa.
"We know all that, but what does he want?" she asked. "If he's helping us, don't you think he would want something in return?"
Cyrus snapped his fingers. "That is the ultimate question is it not? I have thought on it many nights as I drift to sleep. While I haven't come to a true conclusion, there is one hypothesis that has kept me thinking."
An answer had hit Olberic like a lightning bolt as the professor spoke.
"Our stories."
"Exactly," Cyrus confirmed. "As Alfyn said, they are simple payment for his services. Once again, if Teller is such a being, then stories or tales, if he deems them so, are more than sufficient enough payment for his guidance, his company, and his answers."
"A curious man. I wonder when we shall see him again."
"I do not doubt it will be soon."
"He's keeping pace with us."
"Once more, without a doubt."
The conversation fell to a lull after the last words exchanged between Cyrus and Olberic. The Travelers returned to their drinks. Small talk and pleasant conversation flowed between the group. They interacted with the villagers, too.
Olberic included.
Not long after he had finished talking with his friends, Philip and a couple of younger children came up to the large man. The two unnamed children begged Olberic to lift them into the air while they hung onto his arms.
It didn't take much for him to comply, happy to entertain the children while their parents prepared the celebration.
From afar, the Travelers watched Olberic interact with the children in amusement. They enjoyed the respite from their travels and the welcoming villagers who were more than happy to share what little they had with the group.
Minutes later, the villagers had filled the inn with the aroma of sweet drinks and warm food, ready to be eaten. Several dishes ranging from black chicken to spiced potatoes laid before the Octopath Travelers. After days of provisioning on the road, their mouths watered at the prospect of filling their bellies with the delectable dishes before them.
But before they could start eating, the Village Headman blew an ox horn to gather everyone's attention.
"Well, it has been a while since we've had the chance to gather and feast on such an occasion," he began slowly. "But I daresay that tonight, of all nights, is as good a reason as any."
The Headman rose a hand to Olberic. "Sir Olberic has returned to us, if only for a night. But that only means we must celebrate that much more to make up for his absence. However, I have it on good authority from our mutual friend that he shan't be gone much longer. Which is almost better, because we shall have the chance to celebrate Olberic once again."
At the man's words, the crowd cheered and laughed. He waited a moment for them to calm down.
Regaining everyone's attention, the Headman rose a glass to continue. Everyone followed suit.
"So, before we feast, here's to Sir Olberic: a man who has helped our humble village more times than I can count, who has served as a confidant to this old man when needed, and who has taught our children the values of a knight without asking for such things as money. We hope the best for you and your lady love in the future, and eagerly await your return."
That took the warrior and huntress, who sat by each other, by surprise. Next to them, they could hear Tressa and Therion chuckling, Alfyn joining in not long after.
"To Olberic!" the Headman concluded.
"To Olberic!" the crowd repeated.
Olberic and H'aanit glanced at each other before their cheeks turned red and their attention shifted to their drinks.
"I would hazard to guess that Teller had told the villagers more than the Headman had originally let on," Cyrus guessed. "His powers truly are great."
Yes, they were, and the two Travelers in question could only continue to drink so they didn't embarrass themselves further. Over the night, they would catch each other's glances and their smiles grew, if but a little each time.
To have such a way with a people, especially with a close-knit community, is a gift.
To be considered a part of their community, even though one may be an outsider, is much more.
While he would be gone a while longer, Olberic would return to Cobbleston to serve as a sword and shield for the villagers.
And they would be ready to welcome him back with cold drinks and warm food.
But first, his duties remained to his family, to those few he would consider closer than friends.
He would serve as a shield for them first and continue to fulfill this role for others until his dying breath…