The process of leaving the mansion behind was so simple given all that had just been accomplished, and Ophilia couldn't help but wonder how everything had taken place. It was strange how simultaneously complex and simple it had been from start to finish. Primrose had killed the man of the crow, and the rest of them had fought through his forces so that they would be able to escape to begin with. It was simple when she put it that way, but the longer that Ophilia thought about it, the more complications seemed to arise.
She had seen Primrose throughout the battle, and she could tell that there was more to the dancer than originally met the eye. That much was clear as could be given the nature of Primrose herself as a person and the way that she behaved, but Ophilia still found herself thinking about it. When Primrose set her mind to a goal of revenge, it was like she didn't think about anything else. That was all that mattered to her, the driving force that kept a wind in her sails and a breath in her lungs. It was almost terrifying just how much she was driven by this one factor.
But at the same time, Ophilia could tell that there was more going on than any of them could have initially anticipated. It seemed as if everything was complicated these days, but Primrose was the embodiment of the complexity. She was driven by revenge, but at the same time, she seemed to falter in her convictions. She didn't let anyone see this openly, but there was something that was holding her back, a question in her mind inquiring as to if this was the best decision for her to be making. Ophilia had no answer, and she didn't think that anybody else was able to reply either.
The plan was established quickly for everyone to get ready to leave behind Stillsnow the following morning. They were going to gather together any extra supplies that they could have needed before heading for the entrance of the town so that they could get to Noblecourt before the sun went down the next day. They wouldn't have been able to make it to Noblecourt before sundown that night, and so, they decided that staying in Stillsnow was the best option for the time being.
Ophilia was more than fine with this, truth be told. There had been something on her mind for quite some time. Ever since they first arrived in Stillsnow, she found her mind drifting elsewhere. She looked down at the staff in her hands before her gaze fell on the Ember a moment later. She had been struggling to maintain her focus as long as she had Aelfric lingering in the back of her mind. There were still so many questions that she had not been able to ask the goddess, and as long as they were in the area, Ophilia wanted to do at least something to hear about all that she had missed out on.
She found herself walking to the front entrance of town, and she tucked her staff away in her bag. Everyone else was focused on gathering supplies for the coming journey. Surely they wouldn't notice if she was gone for a short while. She had to do this regardless of their thoughts on the matter; there was something in the back of her mind that told her this was the best course of action. For all she knew, she was never going to get a chance like this again, and she had to take it with everything she had.
Ophilia's fingers curled a bit tighter around the handle of the Lanthorn, and she let out a small sigh before starting to walk into the snow ahead. She could still remember where the shrine was, and hopefully, it would be able to answer all of the questions that she still had.
To say that Primrose was conflicted was an understatement.
As soon as the chance arrived, she wound up retreating to her room within the inn. All of the women in the brothel had scattered with Rufus' death, and the guards under his employ began to slink into the shadows. They were seemingly terrified that the force that had killed their previous employer would come for them as well. Just like that, the Obsidian Parlor became devoid of activity, nothing more than a shadow lingering in the snow just outside the town.
Primrose did her best to not think about it as she sat down on her bed. She had been pacing for quite some time, glad that H'aanit wasn't around to see her restless movements. Primrose didn't know what she was supposed to do or think in that moment, but she could say with certainty that there was something wrong on a fundamental level. There was something in the back of her mind that wasn't clicking into the place the way that it should have been, and if she was being honest with herself, that realization was nothing short of terrifying.
Getting revenge on Rufus had felt good. She would have been lying if she said that she didn't take at least some satisfaction from being able to plunge her dagger into his chest. Plus, she had a lead regarding where she was meant to be heading next even if she didn't think that she would be ready to follow it when they did arrive in Noblecourt for Therion's mission. She should have been on top of the world, and yet... She just wasn't.
Primrose felt something hesitant in the back of her mind, a sweeping sensation of hollow emptiness that seemed intent on drowning her. She did her best to shake it off, but she knew that it wasn't going to be that easy. Nothing ever was, it seemed. Her revenge hadn't been as perfect as she made it seem to Arianna or anyone else in the group. She felt bad, but it wasn't at all involved with the fact that she had just committed yet another murder.
No, the emptiness came from something else entirely, almost like something was telling her that she wasn't meant to be doing this to begin with. But her revenge had been her purpose for years up to this point, so how could it not be right? This was everything that she had ever dreamed of, so why wasn't she happy with how it had all turned out? This idea had pushed her forward even through dishonor, agony, and grief. Why weren't the pieces falling the way that they should have been?
Primrose wished that she knew what was going on, but she knew that it wasn't going to be easy to figure out what it was that her mind was trying to tell her. Where was she even supposed to start in terms of finding answers? Nothing made sense anymore. She continued to stare down at the dagger that she had removed from her sheath, reading the words as they reflected back to her in the gentle glow of the lamplight in the room. The flames cast her face in an aura of red.
Red. The same color as her dancer's costume. The same color as blood. The same color as her fury.
Primrose wondered if this truly was what she had faith in. It always had been up to recently. That was what kept her going, kept her alive. But that had been before she tasted revenge, bittersweet like acidic candy on her tongue. That had been before Yusufa died in her arms after being attacked by a man who had abused them both almost to the point of death. That had been before she started to connect with people for the first time in a decade. Just like that, her defensive walls came crashing down, and they had brought insecurity from the outside world.
Primrose was cradling her cheek in one hand when she heard the door open. She glanced up and saw the last person that she wanted to see in that moment: H'aanit. Seeing H'aanit meant that she had to acknowledge the fact that she lashed out at Rufus in her final show of brutality in part because she was trying to keep H'aanit from further damage. Speaking with H'aanit forced Primrose to recognize that she had been afraid of loss yet again with someone who had tried to keep herself from bonding with. Damn it, why did nothing ever work out as she hoped?
H'aanit closed the door behind her carefully, Linde and Hägen settling down on the floor a moment later. H'aanit was acting as if nothing was wrong, unbothered by the injuries she had sustained earlier in the day. Ophilia and Alfyn were miracle workers, not that this particularly surprised Primrose. The dancer instead watched H'aanit carefully, praying that the huntress hadn't noticed her outburst that morning.
It seemed that the universe was taking mercy on Primrose this time when H'aanit spoke. "Primrose, I wolde asken thee about that dagger."
Primrose realized that the dagger was still sitting between her fingertips, and she glanced up carefully before meeting H'aanit's eyes. That was enough to convince Primrose to retreat with her gaze, backing down despite her perpetual stubbornness of intent. "...It was a gift from my father."
H'aanit's fingers drifted up to her chest, twirling something back and forth gently. Her eyes took on a somewhat melancholy, tragic texture. "Thou dost treasuren it greatly. I knowe this because-"
"Of those two rings, hanging from your necklace?" Primrose finished for her. She had noticed the rings quite some time ago, back when they first met H'aanit in S'warkii, but she hadn't ever brought them up. It was easy enough to figure out what they meant, but Primrose didn't want to pry. It seemed as if her intentions had been shattered to pieces though. It wouldn't be the first time.
H'aanit nodded, seemingly unaware of Primrose's plight on the surface but no doubt all too knowing of what was going through the dancer's head. The huntress was too perceptive for Primrose's good sometimes. "Indeed. They aren the only thing I have left from my parents. I have no memories of them, for they died when I was but an infant. But as long as I weare these around my neck, I feele that they aren watching over me." H'aanit paused thoughtfully, and Primrose couldn't help but notice how detached H'aanit's words had been as she spoke about deceased relatives. "'Tis a strange thing, how love doth liven on after death..."
Primrose didn't know how to respond to that for a long moment, so she simply remained silent. When she did reply, her words were soft and careful. "It is, indeed."
Neither one of them said a word in the aftermath of Primrose's final thoughts on the conversation. It seemed that Primrose was far from being the only orphan in the group's ranks. H'aanit made for the tipping point to show that the parentless were in the majority of their party (Primrose, Olberic, Alfyn, Therion, Ophilia to some degree, and now, H'aanit). Primrose felt a stab of something tragic in her chest, but she did her best to shove it aside, swallowing down her nerves regardless of how anxious she really was starting to get.
Primrose had seen more than enough of loss. It had been too much when she was a child asking her father if he would protect her in the aftermath of her mother's death. It had been too much when Primrose was left to cradle herself to peace after her father was murdered. It had been too much when she saw the life fade from Yusufa's eyes at Helgenish's hands. Primrose had seen too much, and she couldn't go through it again.
Ironic, wasn't it? She was someone who had decided that she would never hesitate when it came to ending the lives of those who deserved it, and yet, she was unable to stand anything resembling loss herself. Was that not what all of this was? She was trying to fill the hole in her chest left behind by loss, but there was no way to fully undo the damage that grief left. It would live with her for the rest of her life. She hadn't been able to escape it in the past, and she wasn't going to be able to escape it in present times either.
Primrose's mind flickered back to what had happened when she saw H'aanit get hit by Rufus in the midst of the fight. She knew realistically that H'aanit was more than strong enough to sustain damage on that level, but she couldn't seem to make herself stop fearing what could happen if this was the time that something broke. She remembered the way that Therion had slumped over motionless in the aftermath of the fight against the ghisarma or the fact that Tressa had been driven to exhaustion during their battle with the blotted viper. Primrose, for all of her selfishness, didn't want to see that happen again. She didn't think that she was going to be able to take witnessing something on that level of tragedy after everything else.
So she did her best to push it out of her mind as she sheathed her dagger, wondering if perhaps defending others was what she actually had faith in. Was that what she should have been working towards instead? Should she have been thinking about something greater than her previous scope of focus? Perhaps revenge hadn't been what she was aiming for all this time. Maybe all she had ever wanted was security, and to her, the idea of avenging her father was the only thing that would be able to provide her with that sense of balance in the face of uncertainty.
Primrose didn't know, but she decided after only a few moments of musing that she didn't want to think about it anymore. She laid down on her bed even though it was still only the afternoon, allowing her eyes to slip shut. She didn't want anything to do with Stillsnow anymore the same way that she didn't want to think about the crows. Nobody else had heard that her next destination was Noblecourt. If she didn't say anything about it, then she would be able to hide away in the inn when they arrived at the next town and pretend that nothing was happening. If she hid herself, then she would be able to think about everything that had happened for a while longer before she was forced to fight against the next of the crows, and she needed that more than she thought.
Primrose's eyes peeked open when she heard a purring sound from nearby. She stared across the room and saw that H'aanit was looking down at Linde like the snow leopard meant everything in the world to her as she stroked at her hunting partner's ears. Linde was nuzzling against H'aanit's grasp, desperate to get as much attention as possible. Primrose simply smiled to herself, glad to see that at least someone in their group could be happy while they were there. In Primrose's eyes, there was something almost magical about the way that H'aanit was regarding Linde, but she didn't know how to describe it. In the back of her mind, Primrose wondered if perhaps she wanted to protect things like this.
She never had the chance to finish that thought before she fell into slumber, but that time when she dreamed, it wasn't about her father. Instead, she thought about H'aanit, Linde, and everyone else being content and happy with her at the heart of it all. For the first time, Primrose felt safe, and she wasn't even awake to fully understand it. The worst part was that she wasn't even surprised.
It was surprising how quickly everything in Stillsnow started to fall apart.
Therion had been sweeping through the shadows of the town ever since the man at the helm of the operation went down, and it seemed like Stillsnow was chaos under the initial impression of calm. The town as a whole seemed like it knew what it was doing, but Therion knew better. He could see something liberated yet aimless in the eyes of the women who had previously been in the brothel. Most of them were gathered together in small clusters around the town, whispering to one another in a panic. They knew that Rufus was dead, but his death meant that they had no idea what they were going to do next. The guards had given up on trying to round up the people who had left the parlor behind, seemingly realizing that there was no chance that they would be able to regain their previous sense of control.
The solution to the problem was obvious as far as Therion was concerned; anyone who was able to run a mansion of that size had more than enough in terms of money to help others function. He could sense the richness in the room before anyone else even thought to mention it. He didn't know where the money in the mansion was, but he would be able to figure it out with a little bit of digging. The rich were all fools; Therion was smart enough to determine what they were doing in terms of hiding their leaves, and so, he would be able to execute his small plan easily.
Therion was careful as he made his way through the snow back in the direction of the mansion. The snow falling overhead had grown less intense, and much to Therion's surprise, the parlor was closer than it seemed in the carriage ride. He was hardly a fan of the cold, but he pushed through for the sake of the rewards he knew were going to be waiting for him on the other side.
When Therion arrived at the mansion, it took just a few seconds for him to break in and smack the lock open. He tucked his pick back into his pocket and sighed, shaking his head. He was able to move inside easily, avoiding the guards that were still daring to lurk in the area. Rufus was bound to keep his leaves somewhere out of reach of the people would be visiting the building. He was smart enough to keep from being caught all this time, so he had to have at least something resembling clever wit.
Therion descended to the bottom floor of the mansion through a stairway that was hidden behind a door that was hardly subtle. It was almost pathetic how simplistic this was, and in a way, it was just the boost of pride that Therion needed after his failure at House Ravus. Therion didn't run into anyone from there, and he couldn't help shaking his head. Rufus was the one who was running the show by the pure fear he induced in others, and with him dead, there was nobody around to make sure that the mansion was somewhat stable.
In other words, this was just the situation that Therion had been hoping for.
The room with leaves was easy enough to find, the single door bolted shut with three separate locks. Therion didn't have any issues with busting them open, and he realized that this parlor, despite being even more of a terrifying reputation than House Ravus, would have been much easier to rob. Therion didn't feel guilty about it in the slightest; after all, this money had been earned by forcing blood, sweat, and tears from the women who had been under Rufus' employ. Judging by the amount of leaves in the room, Therion could only assume that they hadn't been paid anywhere near enough. No amount of money could have given them what they needed to press on under the circumstances of forced prostitution, and Therion's stomach churned with rage. His hands were shaking with fury when he shoved the lock pick back to his pocket, and the fool's bangle jingled wildly only in part because of its noisy habits.
Therion tore open the bag that he had brought hidden under his cloak and started shoveling leaves inside. It wasn't as if he was worried about being caught; there were barely any guards in here anymore as it was, and he would have been able to fight his way out if he had to anyways. This was a matter of pride on a thousand different levels, and Therion wasn't going to back down in the face of what could have crossed his path in the future.
There were still so many leaves in the room that Therion had barely made a dent when his bag was full. He glared at the leaves left behind, and he knew that he was going to be ferrying money back and forth for quite a while. He sighed and shook his head before he made his way back to the door. He would be back soon enough.
In the meantime, Therion knew what he was going to be doing. He locked the door once again, his rage having finally calmed down from the nearly explosive outburst that his mind had presented him with. He retreated from the mansion without any issues, and the guards that he did happen to pass by were still deep in discussion and panic regarding what they were going to be doing from there. Therion was more than fine with that; they had spent so much enforcing a dreadful system that pushed down the women who were already in the brothel against their will in the name of survival. As far as he was concerned, they were getting what they deserved.
When Therion arrived back at the town, he made his way to the brothel dormitory. All of the women living there had scattered throughout the town, desperate to put some distance between themselves and the situation at hand, and that was more than perfect for what Therion was hoping to do. He was able to slip in without being spotted, and from there, he set down the bag and pulled the leaves out before putting them on the ground. He counted up the beds and began to divide the leaves somewhat evenly before he rose back to his full height. Therion saw a pair of worn bags sitting near the wall, and upon noticing that they were empty, he reached out to grab them before masking them beneath his cloak along with the bag he had originally brought. He could carry the weight of the extra leaves thanks to his many years of improving his strength, skill, and speed, and it would help the process to go by as fast as possible.
Ferrying the money back and forth ultimately took up more of Therion's day than he was expecting, and by the time he was finished, the all too familiar creep of hunger in his stomach had blocked out most of his other concerns. He took a small number of his stolen leaves into his pocket so that he could get something nice before their food was reduced to travel rations on the way to Noblecourt. He was sure that the group would be sitting pretty in Noblecourt with all these leaves, something especially impressive given how rich and expensive Noblecourt inherently was. Therion had been there a few times, and the stench of the wealthy was overpowering. Luckily for him, the fools made for good marks, and he was going to take full advantage of that during the group's trip there.
Therion had returned to the room with a bundle of meat and started to dig in when he heard the door open. Alfyn was walking inside, clearly shivering from the bitter chill despite his warmer clothing. "Hey, Ther. I was wondering where you got off to." Alfyn's voice trailed off before he could say anything else as his gaze dropped to the ground. The leaves in the borrowed bags from the brothel dormitory were out in the open, and all Alfyn could do was stare.
The room was silent for a long moment before Alfyn glanced back up to Therion. "You've been busy," was all he said as he set his satchel down on the bed that he had laid claim to during their time in Stillsnow. He crossed his arms as he looked down to the shorter thief, his eyes narrowing. "Where did all of that come from? I hope that you haven't been robbin' the people of this town."
Therion shrugged as he went back to eating, refusing to meet Alfyn's striking gaze. "I got it all from someone who won't be able to spend that money even if they want to," Therion said bluntly, hoping that conveyed the message for him. He took another bite of the meat, and he had to admit that he hadn't enjoyed food this good in quite some time. Stillsnow made surprisingly good bear meat, though he supposed that was a given since the snowy areas of Orsterra were practically infested with the damn beasts.
"Rufus," Alfyn concluded a moment later as he sat down on the bed that he was using. He was quiet before he looked to Therion. "What are you plannin' on doing with all that? Surely you can't mean to spend all those leaves on your own."
"Travel funds," Therion told him simply. "We're going to need them when we get to Noblecourt. Inns there are expensive, and unless we want to sleep in the streets, we're going to need a lot of this. Anything that we don't wind up using in Noblecourt can fund whatever we do after that." He knew what was coming after the fact; they were going to be heading to Goldshore, a place that was so far away from Noblecourt that they were bound to be walking for days. In other words, they were going to be putting this gold to good use getting travel supplies for their journey to the faraway coastal town.
Alfyn simply nodded to himself. "Is that all that Rufus had in his vaults? I woulda expected someone like him to have way more than this," he commented. He began to remove items from his satchel, and Therion realized that Alfyn had just gone on a shopping trip, no doubt doing what he could to replenish his supplies before they went back on the road.
Therion was silent at that, unsure of how much information he wished to give up to Alfyn. It wasn't as if he expected the apothecary to use it against him or anything, but he was fully aware of the fact that Alfyn's lips were on the looser side. He knew how to handle himself most of the time, but he could get to be a bit clumsy when it came to speaking with others every once in a while.
Instead, Therion opted to go for something a bit less blatant. "I put it to good use," he said simply. He went back to eating from there, making it clear in his expression and posture that he wasn't going to be yielding any other details to Alfyn from here on. He took another bite of his meat, chewing it contemplatively in a way that he hoped would give Alfyn the impression that the conversation was over.
Alfyn studied Therion for a long moment before he shrugged, seemingly figuring out that this was going at Therion's pace no matter what he tried to do to breach the subject further. "Alright then," was all Alfyn said, and those two words punctuated the end of the conversation. Alfyn began to sort through the items that he had picked up while shopping in town, and Therion took to organizing the leaves as soon as he had wiped his hands free of crumbs casually.
Therion's mind was ruthlessly full as he worked on sorting the leaves into piles. He had already done more than enough for the women living in the dormitories, offering them everything that they could need to get by for at least the next two months. He had run into Arianna on the way out, and she gave him a quizzical look but didn't ask any questions. Therion knew that she had picked up on the idea that it was best to stay quiet than speak out in that situation, and he was relieved to know that she had a good head on her shoulders. Then again, that was a given since she had survived so long under Rufus' oppressive actions.
All of this had been because of a quiet sentimentality that Therion hadn't been able to let go of after all these years. He had learned ages ago that connection with others was weakness, something that had been rammed into his skull as a series of rocks on a cliffside. And yet, his memory continued to stray back to the days when he was still able to trust people. They had been limited and many years ago, yes, but the remembrances still approached him in spite of all that he knew he should be doing instead of getting caught up in reminiscence.
Therion took a long swig from his canteen and walked for the door. He was tired of thinking about all this crap. He was tired from dealing with Rufus and the mess that he had left behind by daring to exist in anyone's general vicinity. The best way that Therion knew of to numb his thoughts was to get a drink at the tavern, and that was exactly what he needed. He had never been able to get drunk, but it would do something to keep him from thinking any more than necessary, and that was something that he was going to have to take advantage of as long as he could. He sure as hell wouldn't have it when they were on the road.
Damn it, Rufus... Burn in hell, bastard.
And so we return with yet another chapter!
This is the first of our intermission chapters between Stillsnow and Noblecourt, but we're getting closer to being able to move into the next town and, as a result, the next chapter. Therion will be getting the spotlight then, but for now, we've got some character moments, including the last of Primrose's chapter two party banter in the form of a conversation with H'aanit to deepen their relationships. The scene with Ophilia is something interesting as well, but that won't be truly important until next chapter, so I'm going to let it sit for now.
The scenes with Therion are the real kickers here in my opinion. It's a little look into Therion's mindset to prepare us for the transition to his chapter two since that's next up on the to-do list. Plus, this offers a bit of foreshadowing for something that I've added to this story: backstory details for Therion. We know what his life was like after he met a certain asshole thief, but what about before that? I have plans for him, and Rufus' death was just the tip of the iceberg. I'll leave it at that so I don't spoil any of my ideas (especially since this one is an extra step beyond canon), but I would love to hear all of your theories on the matter.
Next time around, we'll be picking up with Ophilia and hopefully finishing off the transition to Noblecourt! Until then, I hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter. Feedback is appreciated as always. Have a nice day, everyone!
-Digital