Tale Thirty-Three, Journeying Once More

I do hope to see you there. After all, it has been quite some time since we last saw each other.

The written lines, surprisingly clean and free of any crossed-out words, brought a soft smile to H'aanit's face as her eyes took in the words her dear friend, Sir Olberic Eisenberg, had written to her. Ever since they had defeated Galdera, the God of the Accursed Flame, and completed each of their journeys over one year prior, Olberic had decided to travel across Orsterra and provide his blade for those in need. Of course, he stayed on a moving path but would stay a touch bit longer when he found himself in Cobbleston and S'warkii to spend time with the people he cared about most.

H'aanit appreciated the visits and treasured the time she shared with her counterpart - her equal. A small blush as red as her hair rose to her cheeks, happy that, not only would she see Olberic once more, she and Linde would be able to reconnect with their extended family.

The Octopath Travelers.

For her part, H'aanit had decided to return to S'warkii, knowing her place was there with her people and master. She would never change her decision, but that didn't mean she couldn't leave the secluded village more than prior to the journeys the Octopath Travelers had embarked upon.

"Ah, Sir Olberic hath sent thou another lettre? My, quite the knight, indeed."

H'aanit's master, Z'aanta, and his companion, Hagen, made their presence known easily enough as they came to the small table situated in the corner of the village's tavern. Before her, he set a wooden stein down filled with the familiar amber color of cider.

"No beer?" H'aanit asked out of curiosity.

"Lass, even thou musten know the cooling breeze in the air and the changing of the leaves. Autumn ist upon us," her master mused sagely, before adding, "Thus, a change in drink to keepen us warm."

Then, Z'aanta threw back his head and laughed. All H'aanit could do was roll her eyes before seeing that even Hagen had procured himself a dish of cider to enjoy. Linde seemed to mirror her master's exasperated expression.

Nonetheless, the change in seasons and the giddiness in Z'aanta's tone pulled H'aanit out of any sour mood she might have fallen into otherwise.

Instead, she relented, took hold of her stein, and held it out to meet her master's. With a resounding thud of wood, he happily met her drink with his.

"Cheers!"

Then, as would a thirsty beast with water, Z'aanta greedily drank from his stein. Satisfied, he lowered his drink, sighing happily and wiping the drops of golden liquid hanging from his white beard.

"Thou art still quite the glutton. Though, wouldst that ever change in thou's years?" H'aanit jested before imbibing in her cider. Like an apple, it tasted crisp and refreshing, warming her with its powers of drink and memory, alike.

Once again, the huntress couldn't help but smile.

"Aye? Ist that so? Thou hath quite the barb to your tongue."

"That I do, Master. One needs a barbed tongue to keep thou in thou's place."

"Hah. Many a woman hath spake to me about such things."

He paused to take another greedy drink.

"But enough about me. Thou hath received another lettre from thou's dear sir knight?"

Sighing goodnaturedly, H'aanit returned her eyes to the letter in her hand.

"Yes," she admitted. "We art soon to follow on our promise set one year past."

"Ah, thou meanest meeting thou's family in Flamesgrace?"

"As we wouldst every year hence," H'aanit confirmed.

"Hm… good! And thou wouldst leave soon?"

"Well…"

That stopped H'aanit. Of course, she would like nothing more than to see her fellow Travelers sooner rather than later, but an idea had been brewing in her head ever since she had started reading Olberic's letter.

Once more, she returned her attention to the parchment.

Would it be that we could once again travel as one to achieve our goal, for old times' sake.

At first, that line seemed out of place for the knight. But the more H'aanit thought about it, the more she knew how Olberic could be one to wax poetically had he the time and drink. Thinking about a less-than-sober Olberic writing this letter to find the right words caused H'aanit to chuckle.

Returning to the thought at hand, H'aanit mused on the idea tugging at her attention.

I do miss you and am eager to see you once more. Yours, Olberic.

The letter ended in a way that created a longing within H'aanit's heart.

For Olberic.

For her family.

For adventure.

For the days of being an Octopath Traveler.

Capitalizing on the feeling, H'aanit came to a decision, one that prompted her to finish her cider in one fell swig to rouse the courage to follow through with such a plan. Abruptly, she stood from her chair and urged Linde to follow her.

"After all, we hath much to prepare for," the huntress commented as she made to leave the tavern.

The sudden movement roused Linde, as she sensed her master's purpose. So, too, did her actions alert Z'aanta, who immediately shot up after his apprentice.

"H'aanit! Where art thou going?" the hunter questioned after her.

Over her shoulder, the young huntress clad in furs of her successful hunts, who only a few years before was on the cusp of becoming a recluse, flashed a look of genuine happiness towards her master, the man who had raised her.

"I am going on an adventure," she replied simply.

Then, she departed, leaving a perplexed Z'aanta and Hagen so she could attend to her last-minute preparations before venturing from S'warkii.

After all, she had little time to gather her friends to make the journey to Flamesgrace.

Somewhat understanding what H'aanit was up to, Z'aanta's confusion melted into amusement as he chuckled to himself and returned to his seat. Grabbing his drink, his gaze met Hagen's.

"My, how that girl hath grown. What family she hath found," he murmured cryptically to his companion.

Then, his eyes rose to the ceiling. He rose his stein towards the wooden planks above.

"Thou's child hath become a woman grown - one who knowst her path and who she wishes to walk it with. She ist in good hands."

With that, Z'aanta took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the moment for a little bit longer before moving tables to make merry with some of the other villagers coming into the local watering hole.

Meanwhile, a certain huntress had returned to her home to quickly pack her belongings and retrieve a satchel from a certain apothecary filled with gathered herbs and some letters written to her by a certain warrior.

Satisfied, she and her companion departed west to track down the whereabouts of the members of her family.