To say that the day had been a difficult one would have been an understatement.

If Primrose was being honest with herself, she had no idea what she had been expecting to find when the group finally reached Z'aanta. Something deep down told her that it wasn't going to be good given how long he had been gone, but she had been hoping for the best that perhaps there would be some explanation for it all that didn't involve tragedy. Now, she was cursing herself for her past optimism and wondering what the hell any of them were supposed to do about it.

The next step on this path seemed obvious: they had to find the seer known as Susanna where she waited in Stillsnow and use the knowledge they gained from her to pursue the beast known as Redeye. Everything about that plan was somewhat hazy, but it was still a general idea of what to do next, and Primrose was willing to take it. Still, knowing what to do next didn't change the way that her stomach churned at the thought.

Primrose knew that she shouldn't have been so bothered by it all. She should have known that something bad was going to have happened to Z'aanta for him to disappear for so long, should have known that saving him wasn't going to be as easy as she would have hoped. It all felt so obvious in hindsight, but at the same time, Primrose couldn't forget the haunted look on H'aanit's face when they finally uncovered the truth. H'aanit had been hesitant for years to admit that she thought of Z'aanta as her father, and as soon as she recognized the truth for what it was, she was forced to stumble into Z'aanta as a statue with no easy way to fix his current state. Everything about H'aanit's face had read as pure grief, and Primrose felt sick just to think about it.

Primrose knew that look all too well. She had seen it in her own eyes when she was still grieving over her father what felt like a lifetime ago now. She would look up at her own reflection with exhaustion written across her features, wanting to do something to make it easier but not sure as to what would even help. Primrose remembered swallowing dryly back then and trying to steady herself once more, but nothing ever seemed to work as well as she was hoping it would. Grief was never a simple process, and even Z'aanta wasn't truly dead-at least not yet-H'aanit was enduring it regardless.

And Primrose had no idea what she was supposed to do to help.

Primrose wasn't going to be able to just sit back and watch as H'aanit fell apart under the weight of it all. That just wouldn't be right, and Primrose refused to allow others to suffer as long as there was something she could do about it. Of course, that train of thought implied that she had a plan for what to do next, but the fact of the matter was that she was clueless. She had to try something, but where was she supposed to find a way forward? It felt like the world was deliberately keeping the best plan from her, and to say that she was frustrated was the greatest understatement to ever be uttered.

She was on the verge of starting to pace through her and H'aanit's room in the Stonegard inn when she heard a knock at the door. Primrose immediately paused and rose to her feet. If it was H'aanit, then the huntress would have just walked in. In other words, somebody else was coming by for a visit, and Primrose couldn't help frowning to herself about it.

The dancer rose to her feet and approached the door. She pulled the door open and saw none other than Ophilia standing on the other side. The blonde cleric was, in a word, distracted, staring down at her feet and refusing to make eye contact with Primrose. She barely even seemed to notice that the danger was letting her inside, too caught up in her own thoughts to realize.

"Ophilia," Primrose greeted simply, and at long last, she was able to get the cleric's attention. Ophilia's head whipped up as she finally met Primrose's gaze, though the dancer continued before Ophilia could find the words to fill the silence. "Is there something wrong?"

Ophilia hesitated before shrugging. "I suppose... I was just hoping to talk to H'aanit," she admitted softly. "I guess that she's not back here yet though... It makes sense. There's a lot on her mind right now, and..."

Primrose allowed Ophilia to step into the room before she shut the door once more, and the dancer sat on her bed carefully. She patted the space beside her to pull Ophilia to her side, and the cleric was quick to oblige. "Is there something on your mind?" Primrose asked even though the answer was obvious as could be.

Ophilia opened her mouth before pressing it shut again a moment later. "You could say that," she muttered. The two women were silent for a long beat, but Ophilia broke the quiet by sighing heavily. "I don't know. There's a lot going on right now, and... I feel awful for H'aanit. I didn't think that we were going to find her master like that, and..."

"You wish there was something you could do," Primrose finished for her, knowing the learned sensation of helplessness in grief all too well. She had seen that look in her own eyes a lifetime ago, witnessed in H'aanit's irises earlier that day, and was glimpsing it a third time on Ophilia's gaze now. That didn't make it any easier for her to deal with, but at least she could recognize what was happening. That had to count for something.

"Yeah," Ophilia whispered softly. She began to weave her fingers together, desperate for the distraction from everything that was screaming inside of her head. "I know how hard it is to lose a family... And to think that you're going to lose them soon..."

Primrose nodded her understanding, and Ophilia sighed before continuing. "My parents died a long time ago, back when there was a major conflict in the southern half of Orsterra. They were killed in a war invasion, and I was left all alone," she murmured. "I was taken in by my adoptive father after my parents were killed since he was a good friend of theirs. It took me a long time to accept that I thought of him as my father because I thought I didn't deserve his kindness. After that, he told me that he was sick and getting worse, and..."

"Seeing H'aanit go through something similar hurts a lot more than you thought it would," Primrose said, knowing exactly where this was going before Ophilia could even come close to saying it.

"Yeah," Ophilia repeated with a heavy sigh. "H'aanit never thought of her master as being her father until she came here to Stonegard and talked to Natalia about it, and as soon as she came to that conclusion... We found Z'aanta in the Spectrewood turned into a statue."

"We're not going to let this be the end though," Primrose assured her. "It may seem like the end of all our hopes, but Z'aanta seems to believe that there's a chance for him to come back. I'm choosing to have faith in that. He thinks that we'll be alright if we can find this seer named Susanna. Hope is just about all we have right now, and... We're going to be there for H'aanit until we're able to find that hope for ourselves in Stillsnow or anywhere else across Orsterra. This isn't where it all stops for either one of them. I promise."

"Yeah... You're right," Ophilia murmured, though uncertainty was still consolidating in the core of her chest. She fell silent for a long moment before sighing and shaking her head. "I don't know how to help H'aanit through all of this. I feel like I should at least do something, but... I have no idea what I should be saying to her."

"Me neither," Primrose admitted. She liked to think that she knew H'aanit well, but it seemed like all words fell painfully short when it came to the situation at hand. She didn't want to say something wrong and cause unnecessary harm, but Primrose barely knew where the line between right and wrong was supposed to be in a situation like this. She swallowed dryly and pulled her knife from where it was sheathed at her hip. She brushed one finger across the surface of the blade. Faith was her shield, but it wouldn't be enough to protect Z'aanta.

The same way it wasn't enough to protect Father.

Ophilia must have noticed the shift in Primrose's expression, as she reached out and placed one hand on top of the dancer's knuckles. Primrose glanced up to meet her eyes, and Ophilia simply smiled. Primrose returned the gesture, surprised at how genuine she felt along the way. Even if they had no idea what they were doing next, they were going to fight for a better future together. They would find a way to free Z'aanta from the curse, and along the way, they would defeat Redeye to ensure this tragedy never repeated itself again. It would take a while, yes, but Primrose could already tell that it was going to be worth it.

Primrose let her dagger slide back into its sheath a moment later as she shut her eyes carefully. When H'aanit got back, she would talk to her. Primrose had no idea what she was supposed to say, but the least she could do was try. H'aanit needed the rest of the group now more than ever before, and Primrose refused to back down from a challenge like this. H'aanit deserved better than that, damn it.

"I want to be here when you talk to her too," Ophilia said, seeming to understand Primrose's train of thought effortlessly. "I don't know if it'll do much good, but... I still want to try and help her through this."

Primrose nodded. "She'll appreciate that," she whispered, hoping that it would be easier to find a solution to this impossible problem with the added help of Ophilia on her side. They would be able to figure something out here if they worked together on it, right?

Right?

Primrose did her best to not worry about it too much as she tilted her head towards the ceiling. She was going to have a lot on her mind until H'aanit got back, and there was no guarantee that their discussion would go well even when the huntress returned. Still, Primrose wasn't going to leave the huntress to suffer under the waves of her own grief. If she could do something to help, Primrose had to try at least.

After all the other travelers had already done for her, it was the least she could do.

Olberic and Therion stood outside the latter's room at the inn, frowns etched on their faces. It had been complete coincidence that they moved here at the same time, though Olberic was hardly objecting. As far as he was concerned, they were there for the same purpose. He could see it in Therion's masked eyes. No matter how hard the thief tried to hide his fears, there were a still few honesties that slipped through, and Olberic saw them all in perfect clarity.

They were worried about Alfyn.

Olberic had always been a warrior. Ever since he was young, he had known how to handle himself on the battlefield. He had been trained by the best and joined the army of Hornburg because he wanted a cause to fight for. Throughout his many years of fighting, he had learned the importance of analyzing the combat styles of those around him, and that extended to both his allies and enemies. He was still working out the finer details of where the other travelers stood in terms of combat, but he had a generally good idea of what they often did when it came to battle.

Alfyn was a healer first and foremost. He dedicated most of his time to helping those around him recover, and if he wasn't crafting medications, then he was fighting with an axe. He was slow but knew how to hit hard, dealing massive damage along the way. Alfyn's fighting style was casual and simple, but it worked perfectly for what he was meant to do on the battlefield. His primary purpose was to heal those around him, and from there, he would attack when he got the chance. He wasn't the best in terms of offense, but he was more than strong enough to stand tall and proud with the rest of the travelers, and Olberic had to admit he was impressed an apothecary was so talented with physical weapons.

However, that was not the way that Alfyn had fought against the Lord of the Forest.

If anyone dared to look closely enough at the way Alfyn had handled himself a few hours prior, they would see that he had been sloppy. He wasn't focused on the battle at hand, and he was thrown down like a rag doll as a result. Everyone else was generally able to maintain their concentration in the face of the wooden beast, but Alfyn had been left at a massive disadvantage. He had only sustained as much damage as he had because his head wasn't on the fight. His thoughts had whisked him away elsewhere, and there was no way for him to come back to earth until somebody managed to ground him from the outside.

Therion had no doubt been able to see it too. Therion's work as a thief involved being able to see the weaknesses in the people around him so that he could exploit them. He operated in the shadows and lashed out at vulnerable patches when his foes let their guards down. He had found success for so long because he knew how to twist every fight to his advantage, so when he noticed that somebody around him had a weakness, it stuck out to him like a sore thumb.

Apparently, that included his allies as well. Therion had arrived a few moments before Olberic, and he opted to lean against the wall just off to the side of the door with his arms crossed. If Olberic had to guess, he would say that Therion was trying to figure out what to say to Alfyn. Therion's work also required that he know what to say and when to ensure that he was able to get everything he needed and wanted to continue with his regular operations, and while he was normally good at coming up with words on the fly, Alfyn was a different beast entirely. Anyone could see what Goldshore had done to him, and it seemed like the once immovable and eternally powerful apothecary had been knocked from grace with the force of a tornado none of them could have ever hoped to stop.

Olberic glanced over to Therion before he turned his attention to the door. "Are you ready?" he asked simply, raising one hand in preparation to knock.

Therion rose to his full height after a moment of contemplation, pushing away from the wall along the way. "As ready as I can be," he muttered darkly. Neither one of them was looking forward to the conversation waiting for them on the other side of the door, but it was a discussion that needed to be had at one point or another whether they liked it or not.

And neither one of them liked it.

Olberic knocked carefully, and the hallway seemed to fall eerily silent for a long moment as they waited for Alfyn to reply. In truth though, they were only left in suspense for a few seconds before Alfyn's voice could be heard from within his room. "Come on in," he announced, though anyone with enough experience in reading voices could see that there was much more strain to the words than he was willing to admit.

Olberic pushed the door open before walking inside a moment later, a frown heavy on his features. Alfyn was sitting on his bed, and as far as Olberic could tell, he was putting something away in his bag. On a second glance, Olberic realized that Alfyn had been staring at one of the shells Ellen and Flynn gave him before the group left Goldshore. He tucked the shell out of view before leaning back, a small but strained smile on his face. "What can I do for you two?" he greeted, his voice almost too casual.

"We need to talk," Therion said bluntly. He kicked the door shut behind himself before he leaned against the wall, a frown heavy as could be. He didn't say anything about how Alfyn wasn't going to be leaving until he answered the questions at hand, but the truth was left unspoken and heavy in the air.

The apothecary seemed to realize just how heavy the subject at hand was, and he winced for a moment before nodding. He corrected his expression so quickly that most people wouldn't have even noticed that he was nervous at all, even if it had only been for a brief flicker of a moment. "What is it?" he questioned.

"You weren't fighting with everything you had when we went up against the Lord of the Forest," Therion told him, not bothering to mince words as his eyes went steely. "You were holding back, like you were fighting scared. That was the only reason it was able to get the upper hand over you so easily. You were barely paying attention to what was happening, and the monster knew it."

Alfyn was quiet for a long moment before he looked over to Olberic, no doubt hoping that the warrior would be willing to offer him salvation from Therion's accusations. Olberic simply shook his head. "I'm afraid that Therion is right," he murmured. "All of us could see that there was something wrong with the way you were carrying yourself during that battle. You weren't fighting with everything you had, and you were thrown around rather easily as soon as the Lord of the Forest realized what was happening."

"What's going on with you? There must be some reason that you weren't as focused on that fight as you should have been," Therion pressed, his eyes narrowing in Alfyn's direction. "You can't keep shuffling around the truth either. Everybody can tell that there's something wrong, and we're not going to be safe in a battle until you can work it out. We need everybody to fight with everything they have, and that includes you."

Alfyn glanced back and forth between them for what felt like an eternity before he shook his head. "Nothing is wrong," he insisted, though everybody could see the lie for how flimsy it truly was. "I just got distracted because I'm not used to fighting in darker environments like that. It's a bit hard to keep your focus when it gets like that, huh?"

"You're full of crap," Therion snapped back immediately. "You were distracted because of a lot more than you're willing to say openly." He paused for a moment as he considered Alfyn's words, and something in his eyes seemed to loosen up briefly. "I get it. The darkness of the forest reminded of you how dark the cave was back in Goldshore. You were thinking about Vanessa."

Alfyn's desperation was written all over his face as he tried to find some other explanation that would get him out from beneath Therion's scrutiny, but anybody could see that it wasn't going to be working. He eventually let out a heavy sigh before shaking his head. "I've had a lot on my mind lately," he admitted softly. "The Lord of the Forest is nothing like her, but... I don't know. As soon as I started thinking about her, I just couldn't stop. The Lord of the Forest was trying to defend its home, but she... She was deliberately trying to kill people in the name of her own satisfaction. I don't know what I can even say about her that hasn't already been said, but..."

"You couldn't focus during that fight because the environment reminded you too much of what happened when you first fought against Vanessa," Olberic concluded simply. Alfyn hesitated for a long while before he nodded. Olberic's expression softened, and he took a small step towards the apothecary. "Nobody is going to ask you to completely move on from what she did immediately. Finding out about all of that... It left a heavy weight behind on all of us. People can be selfish creatures, and she is one of the worst that I've ever seen."

"I can't seem to get her out of my head no matter how hard I try," Alfyn sighed heavily with a shake of his head. "I know I shouldn't give her the time of day. She's in Goldshore and will be in prison for a long time for everything that she did. Still... I can't stop thinking about her. I know that she hurt a lot of people before we finally managed to catch her, and... She thought that I was going to become like her one day. She was sure that I would understand her perspective one day after I had worked in the business for long enough."

Alfyn shifted his attention down to his hands, and he began to clench and release his fingers in an almost rhythmic pattern. "She once wanted to help people too... It was a long time ago, but she wanted to assist those around her for a little while as far as I can tell. It was only after she got into the work that she realized just how much she could take advantage of it and the people who needed her services. She betrayed everything that she had previously worked for in the name of coin and her own greed... And she thought that I would do that too," he muttered. "She was confident that I would understand why she was acting the way she was. But... I don't get any of it. I hate her with everything I am. I can't seem to stop thinking about her and how many people she's hurt and killed in the name of her own ends. Is this what it means to be an apothecary and a healer to her? Are the lives of innocent people secondary to wealth to anybody else out there too? Is it really all about using people in the name of achieving goals that no other person could ever hope to comprehend?"

The room fell quiet for a long moment as Olberic and Therion both contemplated how they were meant to respond to that. In the end, it was Therion who managed to break the silence, and he shook his head simply. "You're nothing like Vanessa," he said softly.

Alfyn didn't seem entirely certain of that, so Olberic picked up where Therion left off. "There are people who seek justice and righteousness in every profession just as there are those who seek only to fulfill their own aims. You and Vanessa have entirely different reasons for doing what you do. She made her decision, and that has no bearing on what you choose to do from here."

"You don't want to hurt people the way that she does, right?" Therion questioned, his eyes narrowing in Alfyn's direction.

The apothecary shook his head furiously. "Of course not!" he yelped. "I would never dream of that. I would never want to be anything like her. I'm afraid of accidentally crossing that line, but... I don't want to be like Vanessa. She made a lot of terrible choices, and the least thing I want to do is tip into the same abyss that she buried herself in."

"Then there's your proof that you're nothing like her," Therion told him simply. "Vanessa would have never reacted that way. She made up her mind as to who she wanted to be and what that meant for the people around her. You want to help people, and you could never be anything like her as long as you don't let yourself be. Besides, do you really think the rest of us would just let you become a wild apothecary who cares only for money?"

Alfyn laughed at that, and the color finally seemed to be returning to his features. He shook his head. "You got me there," he admitted before falling silent once again. "I guess... I never thought that people could act like that, you know? Something about other people always felt... Different. Helgenish was so obviously terrible, and the same applied to Rufus. I suppose I just thought it would always be easy to figure out who the bad guys are supposed to be, but... That wasn't the case with Vanessa."

Therion flinched slightly at the sound of Rufus' name, but he hid his reaction before anybody had the chance to call him out on it. "There are good and bad people no matter where you look. The world is full of them. Sometimes, they come in forms and places that we never expect to find them, and that doesn't make it any easier. We just have to find a way to deal with it, and we took care of Vanessa. She's not a problem anymore. You're not the same as her, and I don't want to hear you talking about how you're scared of becoming like her."

Olberic nodded his agreement, noting the strange degree of darkness that had found itself in Therion's voice. He had no idea where the sudden shift could have come from, but something told him that Therion was speaking from experience in a way that none of them could have seen coming. Therion knew what it meant to be betrayed by somebody who he thought was good, but Olberic didn't want to push the subject. He doubted it would gain him much in the way of success even if he tried.

However, it did make Therion's words about not trusting people make a lot more sense. He feared trusting others because he had been betrayed once before by somebody he thought was a friend. Even now, he felt the pull of that pain, and it controlled him.

Perhaps that was how Olberic felt about Erhardt too. Olberic had given everything he was to Erhardt when they were friends a lifetime ago, and it felt like the two of them understood one another perfectly. Erhardt was everything that Olberic could have ever asked for, and yet, Erhardt hadn't been satisfied with the lot he was presented with. He used that anger to betray everybody who had ever cared for him, and just like that, Olberic understood all too well what it meant to be stabbed in the back by someone he loved.

Therion was right; there were good and bad people in every profession. Did that mean Erhardt was one of the bad ones? Why did that make Olberic feel sick to his stomach?

"Only you can decide if you're going to be like Vanessa or not," Therion continued, and Olberic welcomed the distraction from his own thoughts. "If you don't want to follow in her footsteps, then don't do it. You're the one who gets to make that choice, not her. No matter what she said, she's not the one in charge here, and I don't want you to think that she still has a hold on you all this time later."

Alfyn nodded at that. "Yes... You're right," he murmured. He pulled his shoulders back in the grandest display of confidence he had shown off since the group was in Noblecourt, and he smiled brightly to both Therion and Olberic. "Thanks for coming to talk to me. I needed to hear that."

"As long as you make sure this doesn't get in the way of your fighting, we're in the clear," Therion said, his voice just as unreadable as ever. However, Olberic could tell what his words truly meant; Therion had been worried, but he hesitated to admit it in case that was the step too far that caused someone to stab him in the back. It wasn't that Therion didn't trust the rest of the group. He simply didn't trust how he was supposed to respond to it all, and the fear was creating a rift that nobody could hope to cross easily.

"Of course," Alfyn assured him. He let out a small laugh before leaning back against his bed. "What did I ever do to deserve friends like you guys?"

Therion didn't respond to that. Instead, he simply rose to his feet and walked out of the room, no doubt off to take care of his regular thieving habits while they were still in town. Olberic watched him go before moving towards the door, wondering if perhaps he would ever get a deeper glimpse into what was happening beneath the surface of Therion's haunted and empty eyes.

"Try to rest. You suffered significant damages during that last battle," Olberic told Alfyn when he was halfway to the door.

"Of course," Alfyn replied. "I'll see you later, Olberic."

The warrior simply nodded before walking out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. He sighed once he was alone, pretending his mind wasn't racing with thoughts of Olberic. The idea of what was good and bad had always been skewed in Olberic's mind, but everything seemed to crumble after Erhardt helped to bring Hornburg to its knees. What was morality supposed to mean anymore? Had it ever held any weight to begin with?

Olberic simply shook his head before walking away. He could worry about Erhardt another time. For now, he had another group to look out for, and he wasn't going to fail them now.

Character time, baby!

I told you before that we would have some unorthodox groupings for the character growth after this chapter, and that means Therion/Alfyn/Olberic, Primrose/Ophilia/H'aanit, and Cyrus/Tressa. We'll get to the latter two in the next chapter, but I love how things turned out this time around. Alfyn is getting better about his moral crisis, and Therion's self-sabotage is just as bad as ever. Then you've got Olberic thinking about Erhardt, and... Wow. These characters really need all the therapy they can get.

I also really liked the scene with Primrose and Ophilia, and I felt like it was a perfect time for them to talk about their relationships with their fathers since H'aanit is having so many internal struggles with Z'aanta at the moment. I loved being able to give these two the attention they deserve, and I think it's great setup for what we'll be getting into next time when H'aanit gets involved.

Until then though, I'm going to leave things off for this chapter. Next time, we'll press on with character moments in the aftermath of H'aanit's chapter two. Until then, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is appreciated as always. Have a nice day, everyone!

-Digital