Tale Forty, Eight Paths, One Family
It was pleasantly warm in Flamesgrace in the later months of fall.
Whether that be by the fire that coated the Flamesgrace Tavern in a flickering hue of oranges, reds, and yellows;
Or, by the glass of red mulled wine that she would allow herself once in a blue moon;
Or, by the familiarity of friendship and family reverberating from wall to wall with each conversation, with every word shared;
Or, by a combination of all three.
Whatever it could have been, Ophilia was happy to have it in this spacious one-roomed, wooden building, surrounded by the Octopath Travelers with whom she had shared much of her recent years of life.
And she couldn't help the smile on her face, no matter where she looked.
By the bar sat Therion, sipping at his mulled wine with a seemingly uninterested gaze forward as Tressa and Primrose prattled to either side of him - sometimes talking over him to the other. Yet the faint smile slipping on and off of the famously dour thief's face as he drank didn't go unnoticed by Ophilia. Nor did the trailing fingers that danced from Primrose's hand to Therion's under the bartop.
Over in the corner, H'aanit and Olberic stood close to one another, the former facing the latter, shoulders pulled back and chest open. That action alone told Ophilia volumes. She supposed it fit any sort of relationship the two strongest members of their party might have.
Cyrus watched from afar, much as Ophilia was, as he scribbled notes in his journal while Linde received a scratch behind her ear from the scholar now and then. That alone showed the progress the professor - headmaster - had made in understanding his social surroundings. Ophilia hoped that what Cyrus wrote down in his journal now was more aligned with pleasant musings rather than hard observations.
Finally, Alfyn sat on the bench of the corner table next to Ophilia. Her gaze caught his, shining. Whether it was because of the warm fire or the overflowing of happy emotions coursing through the apothecary, Ophilia didn't care to know. It made her all the happier, especially as he leaned in for a quick, chaste kiss.
Kissed finished, Ophilia's doting husband turned his full attention to his wife's pregnant belly, placing his hand on it carefully.
"And how're my two favorite ladies doing here?" he spoke softly, eyes focused on his unborn child Ophilia carried.
Ophilia loved seeing the fatherly side of Alfyn come out and it only caused her to giddily smile.
"We're doing quite well over here, watching everyone enjoy themselves," Ophilia commented. "Besides, while seeing everyone again has been quite the pleasant gift, I'd say that I could do without Tressa commenting how I have grown into a pumpkin or… um… any other forward comment about my pregnancy."
Alfyn couldn't help but chuckle at that.
"Yeah, Tress can be a little crass, especially when it comes to her being smaller than you or the others."
That earned a playful slap to his shoulder from Ophilia, who couldn't help but chuckle herself.
"Alfyn Greengrass, you did not just comment on your pregnant wife's chest in public!"
"Hey, it wasn't me! Tress did it first!"
Ophilia couldn't help but roll her eyes and give her husband a quick peck on the cheek, showing she forgave him.
"Oh, perhaps you're right - just be careful none of the others hear you say something like that!"
"Something like what?"
Therion's question garnered Alfyn and Ophilia's attention as he and the rest of the Octopath Travelers came to rejoin them at the corner booth, gladly taking their seats to join in on whatever conversation the expecting couple was having.
"It's nothing, Therion. Just a discussion between husband and wife," Ophilia explained as she rubbed her belly. "Actually, we were just about to discuss what we should name our daughter, but that might have to wait for another time-"
"What!? We're basically family and you want to butt us out of that discussion!?" Tressa interceded, rising to her feet and very apparently under the influence of her drink. "Just because your boobs are bigger than mine - again! - doesn't mean you can just keep stuff like that from yes!"
"Tressa!" Ophilia admonished.
From the merchant's side, H'aanit chuckled as the younger woman sat back down. "While a bit vulgar, I doth believen mine apprentice ist right. We art family, after all."
"Yes, so I think we should have a bit of fun in joining you in this discussion with your beloved husband," Primrose chimed in, mouth quirked in a cat-like grin as she propped her chin in the palm of her hand.
"Why, we could name her after one of the Thirteen Gods. I believe a graceful name such as Sealticge would be just the perfect choice," Cyrus suggested, not holding back his opinion.
"No, no, that's too on the nose, Teach. Names have to be subtle with meaning," Therion jumped back in, his finger tapping his cheek.
"I know I would be the last to say it, but I did not think I would see Therion willingly participating in such a conversation," Olberic commented, unknowingly surprising the other Travelers with his candor.
"Tsk, never mind."
"Oh, my dear Therion, I believe Sir Olberic was just jesting," Primrose stated, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Come on, I didn't think such a soft barb would cause you to retract so easily."
Her partner sighed. "Alright, alright, let me think…"
"Uh, seriously, everyone… we can talk about somethin' else," Alfyn tried to intercede before Ophilia grabbed his hand.
"No, love, I think this is a conversation they should be a part of."
"But…"
Any words the apothecary wished to speak died in his throat as he turned to his wife. The earnestness in her eyes as she watched the Travelers - their family - debate and squabble over something like the name of their daughter made it all feel so real.
Of course, Alfyn and Ophilia were husband and wife, expecting a child. They had their own little family.
But just watching how much these adventurers, who came together to share in their many paths, cared about Alfyn, Ophilia, and their unborn daughter made her realize, once more, how much they were truly part of each other's lives. Even if they were separated by distances so vast they spanned the continent of Orsterra, the Octopath Travelers would still be intertwined, unable and unwilling to change that.
Truly, they were family.
It made her more overjoyed than she could ever explain.
She felt Alfyn place her hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present.
His eyes met hers and there shone the love he had shared for her ever since the day the apothecary spoke his feelings. Beyond that, there was understanding, knowing to an extent what his wife was thinking.
In that shared moment of understanding, Ophilia knew what she wished to name her daughter.
A joyful gaze and genuine smile at her unborn child stopped any arguing from the Octopath Travelers, as they watched with interest at what would happen next.
Gently rubbing her belly, Ophilia spoke.
"Tatiana. That is what we shall name her."
While a strong name - and H'aanit said as such - it seemed as equally out-of-place as it did perfectly for the first child of any of the Octopath Travelers.
So the question to argue over next was voiced by Primrose.
"Why Tatiana? Is it a family name?"
"You could say that," Ophilia affirmed. "A name I once heard my father speak of in passing, and it hasn't left me since. I'm unsure whether that was because it was his late wife's name, my… mother's, or another person of significance. But… I believe it is the perfect name for our baby girl. Our little Tatiana."
All the Octopath Travelers, save Alfyn and Ophilia, sat back in their chairs, deflated that they couldn't debate the name or its reason any longer.
However, Cyrus, after taking a sip of his mulled wine, hummed in understanding.
That garnered everyone's attention.
"Know something we don't, Teach?" Therion inquired.
Rubbing his chin, Cyrus began, "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Tell me, has anyone noticed a pattern with our names and how we earned the epitaph of the Octopath Travelers from Teller?"
Everyone thought on that for a moment, only Ophilia recognizing with a sly grin what the Headmaster hinted at.
A few minutes passed without an answer before Alfyn broke the silence.
"Okay, I'll bite. What kinda pattern?"
With a dramatic flourish, Cyrus finished his drink, then stood up, his robes floating around him momentarily as he rose his hand to his chest to share his theory.
"Well, I daresay that, with Ophilia being the first of us, and I being the next, Tressa being the third, and so on, and so forth, if you take the first letter of each name and put them together…"
The statement was leading and many had a decent time trying to spell out what it could have been. It seemed that Tressa arrive at the answer first, as she stood up along Cyrus, hands slamming on the table.
"The first letters of our name spell Octopath!" she exclaimed excitedly.
"Precisely, insightful Tressa," Cyrus concurred. "Besides there being eight of us on eight different paths, the first letters of our names, in the order with which we began our journeys and joined Ophilia, spell out Octopath."
Tressa pouted playfully then. "Well, she could have named her Tressa if that was the case…"
Primrose grinned, leaning over the table, her interest showing. "So, you decided that, not only is the name important to you, Ophilia but that it should be important to us and continue the spelling of our little group, correct?"
The cleric nodded happily.
"That's right, Primrose," she replied.
"Well, that is as honorable a reason as any, but would that not mean…" Olberic mused, his sentence falling short as he thought on something.
Therion sighed, knowing where the warrior was heading. "We'd need to follow the same pattern…"
"You don't have to," Alfyn mentioned.
"Nay, we wouldst gladly do something to honor our family. Mayhaps the names art predictive of who shall bearen the weight of a child next," H'aanit stated simply. "After all, I hath a name come to mind that may fit the pattern."
That received some murmurs from around the table and lit Olberic's cheeks on fire as a flurry of thoughts raced through his mind.
Therion wore a shit-eating grin as he nudged the man with his elbow. "She's got you lined up there, Mountain."
Instead of receiving a smack to his shoulder or head, Therion felt a tap on his shoulder, causing him to turn and see Primrose throwing her mischievous smile his way.
"Well, my dear Therion, I do believe that there is a name I'm thinking of that may fit the pattern, as well."
A throaty chuckle followed from the dancer as Therion's face went white as a sheet and his jaw fell open. She placed a finger under the thief's chin to close his mouth.
"Ugh, you guys are weird… but wait wouldn't that mean that…?"
"Yes, Tressa, our little family would have to grow by eight more, meaning some couples may have more than one child," Cyrus answered.
That earned a collective wave of shock from the men around the table, save Cyrus, while the taken women couldn't help but laugh at each of their reactions as they each sidled up closer to their partner in turn. The silence allowed Cyrus and Tressa to talk up a storm, slowly coaxing everyone back into the conversations as they talked about anything and nothing all at once.
Like the family they were, they bickered and jested, shared memories and prior hardships alike, and basked in the warmth created by the wine, the fire, and, most importantly, the company.
Unbeknownst to them, someone listened in on their conversation from the other side of the tavern, hidden from their view. He smiled knowingly at how they had picked up on his naming schema. It warmed his heart to know it would continue with the Octopath Travelers' progeny.
That warmth followed the man as he stood from his chair to make his way out of the tavern. He was going to join the Travelers for one more drink, but it seemed that he would only be interrupting the festivities and believed his role in their story had ended.
Even so, as he stood at the tavern's threshold, staring out into the night and seeing the first snowfall, he managed one last glance over his shoulder towards Ophilia. What he saw let him know that he was right all those months ago and that the timid cleric from then would be more than okay.
And, for a brief moment, his and the cleric's eyes met. A small flicker of kindred recognition flowed between them before they smiled at each and the man closed the door to the tavern behind him, leaving the Octopath Travelers to their journeys ahead.
Ophilia, for her part, swore she had just locked eyes with a certain bard who had helped her out so long ago. While she felt it wasn't her part to fully recognize him and invite him to join the Travelers, she did smile at him.
As he left the tavern, Ophilia spoke to herself and to the bard a grateful farewell.
"Thank you for everything, Teller."