The next morning was probably close to one of the worst in either the thief or dancer's life. Imagine waking up with a fever, head cold, stiff limbs, all dirty, with no breakfast waiting. Needless to say, the two were cranky, with a case of sniffles and sore throats.
"Gods… Who threw this ratty thing on me…" Primrose tosses the poncho back at the thief, who receives it with a scowl. That'll teach him for caring.
"We overslept… and got no rest," He growls irritably and stands, barely wobbling, going to wash his face in the river.
"It seems we did…" Primrose stretches, as part of her dancer routine to remain limber. She checks her reflection on her dagger and frowns when she realizes she never cleaned her face after the fight yesterday with the frogs. Her face is smudged with a bit of grass juice on her cheeks. When she stands, she feels a slight stab from the leg wound. Peering at it, she sees it might be festering. Pursing her lips in annoyance, she still maintains a steady gait to the river beside Therion.
The thief sees her slip her leg into the river again as she cleans her knife. Then she checks her reflection on the blade again. Frowning, she stows her blade and splashes water on her face, washing off the marks of the scuffle from yesterday. His initial instincts were not wrong. Her attractive features were not diminished by the bad night of sleep, notes the thief. Regardless, he silently finishes gargling some water while she dries her face as best she can.
"We still have quite some road to cover."
"…Mm."
"You should have packed better clothes," Therion slips into his comfortable poncho, "I think you've caught a chill."
"Even if I did, do not throw that ratty thing on me," She sighs, "It has a bit of a smell on it."
Should've known better than to do anything nice. Well, she didn't say "stink" exactly.
"Lady, we just happen to be going the same way. If you drop, I'm leaving you."
"You don't look all that well yourself."
Therion rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sadiq, who is still sitting where he had been last night. The thief walks over to the old man, only to discover him snoring.
"… Stupid old man…" Therion mutters and roughly shakes his shoulder, "Hey wake up."
"Mmmrm…" He drools.
Therion sighs, "Gods…"
He grunts a bit as he pulls the old man up by an arm and leans him on his back. Half carrying Sadiq, Therion begins walking down the road.
"H-hey!" Primrose scrambles a bit from where she sat to catch up when she sees them leaving her.
"Not waiting, princess."
"…" She scoffs a bit as she walks alongside him from a slight distance, "I'm surprised you didn't just start walking without picking him up."
"He's helped me more than you have."
Primrose makes a sharp sound of discontentment on the side. Icy silence settles, with the occasional cough or sneeze breaking it.
Primrose takes this time to look around a bit. Ten years. Most of it she had spent in Sunshade, within the ever-looming shadow of the desert mountains that daylight could only pierce, never dispel. Ten years she had spent working in the shadows of society. She had never been to Clearbrook, but she remembered the small trip she and her father once took to the Riverlands here. She couldn't tell if much had changed, since that was so long ago. The rivers still seem so pristine, and the nature so green and immaculately full of vibrant life.
Therion couldn't care too much about the scenery, no matter how serene and peaceful it might appear. Those crazy frog creatures roam this place, not to mention poisonous wasps and large snails. The wasps could chase and sting a man to death with their brood. The snails would usually spray victims with some somniferous goo that rendered them unconscious. Then the snail would be free to engulf and digest in peace. The Riverlands were not a kid-friendly place at all.
As the midday sun came to rise to its zenith, the dancer and thief begin feeling the full brunt of weakness, being wounded and sick. Sadiq snores along quite contentedly. Therion pants and heaves a bit, pointing to a rock under some tree shade.
"Let's just… rest there for a second…"
Primrose wordlessly agrees. Under the shade, they both slump down, feeling utterly wiped out. At least they were dry now. But they still felt a chill.
"Mm… aahh…" Sadiq stretches where he had been lain on the grass, "Oh, good morning!"
"It's noon, you old kook…" Therion sighs and lightly loosens his scarf as he coughs harshly.
Primrose leans against the trunk of the tree, catching her breath. Her mouth was very dry, but she didn't want to have to go fetch from the river again.
"Sadiq… get me some water…"
"Mm, right away, Miss Prim!" Like a trooper, the old man jogs to the stream.
"…You put him under some enchantment, didn't you…" Magic that manipulated the mind is incredibly rare as the arcane seemed to fade from their world with passing years. But Therion had heard of master thieves who could manipulate others into giving them the goods, and then making it seem like they had never met.
"… Not really."
She acts so calm about it and her words betray nothing. But Therion wasn't about to trust any of that. It was just a perfectly formed mask.
Sadiq comes back to them after a few seconds, drenched in water and smiling widely.
"Nothin' like a good bath!"
"Sadiq, I asked for water…" Primrose sighs tiredly.
"I know! Suck on my beard!"
Therion spits and cannot manage to suppress a loud laugh. Primrose throws him a searing glare, but he's turned away from her.
"Din't have no flask, an' my hands 're bound to spill! So I got water in my beard!" Sadiq proudly announces, like he's a genius.
"F-forget it…" Primrose covers her face slightly with a hand, waving Sadiq off with the other. Gods, this is not helping her splitting headache, "Let's just keep going…"
She tries to stand, and nearly stumbles, needing to grab the tree for support. The world whirls a bit around her. What little she ate flops in her stomach. Still grabbing hold on the tree, she vomits, missing Therion by mere inches. The thief jumps off his butt in alarm as the dancer empties her stomach.
"G- You crazy woman!"
"Ugh…" Primrose wipes her mouth with the back of her hand when she finishes, "Oh shut up…"
He makes a sound of disapproval with his teeth before striding back onto the road, pushing past the chill and headache pounding in his head. Primrose leans on Sadiq and they both follow, resuming their slow and painful walk.
Over a small wooden bridge, Therion sees a fisherman minding his own business as he faces the river, peacefully dangling a lure. His fingers hover near the man's bag, eager to pilfer, when Primrose suddenly coughs. The fisherman turns to see the ragtag trio. Therion quickly hides his hand.
"Oh, why… hello there, travelers," The man runs a hand through his honey hair, "By the Flame, you look like you could use a cleric…"
"… Are we close to Clearbrook?" Primrose asks a bit brusquely.
"Aye," The man seems to have taken little note of her tone as he points ahead to another bridge, to a path by some woodland and a small mountain range, "Past the Twin Falls there. Careful of the monsters there, 'specially the salamanders."
Ah, salamanders. One would take them for slow dullards, given how they bask in the rivers, waiting for prey stupid enough to swim into their gaping mouths. But they were actually quite the fast hitters, able to ram a man down with ease due to their size. It nearly landed a thief in the hospice. They hit like a jab from a spear.
"Thanks…"
Primrose waves slightly to the man as they pass. Therion sees the fisher reel back his lure and digs around in the bag he had been about to steal from. The fisherman takes out a worm and re-baits the lure before casting. A sigh of slight relief escapes the thief's lips, nearly imperceptible.
The three trudge over the bridge. Below, the waters are clear enough to reveal something rather large and camouflaged among the riverbed. It is a giant salamander. Therion avoids looking at the thing as they cross. A low series of clicking sounds can be heard as their steps make precarious creaks on the bridge wood. But nothing so drastic like the structure collapsing happens, and the thief thanks the stars for some luck at last.
"Past Twin Falls hm…"
The cave system is known for having costed an entire expedition's worth of people once. He recalls that from some tavern banter he overheard. Supposedly, while spelunking for treasure, the exploration team never returned. No one is sure what exactly lies within the cavern, though there have been reports of people feeling numb or sleepy by the cave opening. No one's stupid enough to try going in.
After what feels like forever down the paved path, they luckily didn't run into any more frogmen directly. There was one small trio they nearly ran afoul of, but they ducked near some river weeds and laid low until they passed. But then the stay ended up quite prolonged when another band marched by and they seemed to belligerently debate with each other before the larger group passed on at last. The smaller band then passed as well. By then, Therion and Primrose both wheezed a bit from the fatigue and holding in all their symptoms.
"…I hate the Riverlands."
Luckily, the bridge to Clearbrook was not too far after that close shave. They enter the limits of the quaint little town. The air feels clean here, and the atmosphere is ultimately tranquil with green grasses and trees by the sparkling clear water. A peasant-looking girl with a silver halberd stands just before the fences start. She is the watch woman.
"Hello there, weary travelers," She nods slightly to the trio, "I'm guessing you're here for the two town healers, by the looks of it."
"… Yes," Therion coughs slightly and just gazes a bit blearily at the small houses surrounded by glistening nature.
"It's just past the tavern. You won't miss the sign on the door."
The dancer and thief nod wearily and just enter, Primrose still leaning on Sadiq mostly. Most people turn heads at the strangers. Despite Therion's normally trained movements to stay unnoticed, his feverish coughs did not help, nor did standing by such an exposed woman. People stare a few moments as she passes before trying to focus back on what they were doing. It was not easy, as the image of her seductive movements remains well in their heads. Therion was glad that he wouldn't have to be traveling with her any longer after this.
They pass the small fenced gardens of herbs around the quaint little houses of wood and the tavern. Therion takes a small glance through the windows of the small, one-story building. There's barely anyone inside. Small towns like this one probably have everyone busy in the fields at this hour until it gets a bit later.
The building in question is nearly passed by Therion, as he does not read the sign on the door, which reads "Apothecary." Primrose stops Sadiq before it and tries the door, opening it with ease. She peers in tentatively and sees a rather snug and humble interior, with a strong smell of medicine. A man with short brown hair seems to be sitting at the bedside of the only bed visible. He wears a green vest over simple clothes. Primrose clears her throat a bit and that gets his attention. He stands promptly, dusting himself off a bit.
"Oh, hello! Can I help you?"
Primrose coughs a bit, "You're the town apothecary right… We … need some medicine."
"Ah, come in, come in!" He opens the door fully and ushers them in after a mere glance at the dancer. He sees Therion lingering around outside the door and gestures to him, "You seem to have a fever too. Come now."
The thief reluctantly walks in. Primrose sits down at the bed while he just stands with Sadiq, no matter how much he wanted to just sit on the floor. He looks around as the supposed apothecary goes to a small table with a plethora of dried plants and other weird things hanging from a rack on the wall. Not all of it even seemed plant-like. One looks like the dried innards of a boar maybe. It's a snug house, with only one bed, probably for patients in the day and the apothecary at night. There is some evidence of someone else living here, as a neglected doll in a corner of the house suggests. A younger sibling maybe.
Therion was not the biggest fan of healers. In these trying times, healing and cures were both extremely limited. People were not always trained correctly in the arts and many would die from wrongly mixed tinctures. This is not helped by the many kinds of folk medicine that vary from town to town, resulting in a jumble of solutions that could send people to their graves.
Magical healing is a bit more trustworthy since it pretty much has a monopoly source. You also can't go wrong with light magic. It just worked. But the Church wasn't everywhere, and not every bishop was a good one. Therion was lucky when he was found by one of those traveling missionaries in Bolderfall; a young cleric who had nursed him back from near-death for free. He'd heard sob stories from those who had to pay an arm and leg to get a cleric to heal their loved ones.
Traditional medicine men like this guy were no better, and probably worse. There are a lot of snake oil salesmen these days, who just take your money and throw you some gnat piss mixed with addlewort or something. But these apothecaries were the only ones known who could combat diseases and toxins, which magic always had issues with. The general rule of thumb is "magic for flesh wounds, medicine for disease and swoons." Therion never heard an explanation as to why exactly, but it's what keeps these guys in business.
"Alright, from the looks of it, you both have quite a nasty fever. I hope you weren't traveling with it. Only makes it worse," The apothecary gets to grinding some things with a mortar and pestle, "Name's Zeph by the way. I should have some anti-flammant ready in a jiffy…"
"Thank you…" Primrose coughs lightly into her hand, "Uhm… my leg also… and Sadiq here. He has some cuts on him…"
"Ah, first the fever tho-"
The door suddenly slams open and a young man with dirty blonde hair bursts in. The front of his head has a tuft of hair while the back has a small ponytail. He wears the same green vest and similar simple clothes as Zeph, and both have similar looking satchels. Clamped between his grinning teeth is a small blade of grass.
"Heya Zeph!" He shouts loudly in greeting.
"Ah, Alf!"
"Hm?" This Alf person looks to the trio of patients, before yammering on and walking to Zeph's side, "Ah, sick travelers? What's the situation? Snake bite? Numbness? Whoopin' cough?"
He glances to the thief and dancer cheerily. They look back with faces of melancholy, but he doesn't seem to care or notice. "Don't worry, we'll have you back on your feet in no time! Oh, I'm Alfyn by the way!"
His patients merely give a tired nod. He looks back to Zeph.
"How was Melody and her grandpa?"
"Awh, ya know. Same old same old. The coot just refuses to stop it with that pipe of his! Worries the heck outta Melody!"
"Well, the joke is it was either that or his wife...!"
"...Wow, Zeph, that's dark."
"Ehehe... whoops."
The two apothecaries banter meaninglessly as they do whatever it is apothecaries do at the table, observes the thief. Prim sighs and lies down on her side atop the bed, closing her eyes for a few. She shivers slightly. Sadiq sits down on the floor and examines the tip of his spear.
Alfyn looks to the trio after a minute or so of concocting and hands the thief and dancer a small wooden cup of something that looks like dark green liquid. "Drink up!"
Primrose sits up and accepts her cup. She sniffs it gingerly before needing to fight the urge to hurl again. Therion doesn't bother smelling it.
"...So, what is it."
"Classic fever tonic. Flamegrout, rawst extract and plenty of wheatgrass and kale essence! Best on an empty stomach!"
Primrose takes a sip. It is extremely bitter, with a pungent aftertaste. Her face screws up a bit. But she goes right on drinking it, fighting the disgust and gag reflex. When she gets to the bottom, the bitter plant material pools and makes it carry an even more earthy taste. The nausea passes quickly once it is all down, however.
"Ah, boy those are some nasty wounds ya got!" Alfyn remarks as he looks Sadiq and Prim over.
He looks to Therion too, with scrutiny that makes the thief squirm. With a somewhat gentle action, his calloused hand brushes on the hair covering the thief's temple, where the skin had split. Therion stifles a shiver from the touch as Alfyn examines him, "Ya got a small knick that needs to be treated too! Wait just a second. My balm'll be up and ready before ya know it!"
As the ball of energy goes back to the table while Therion chokes down the rest of his tonic. The door swings open and a woman with dark hair in a flowy white blouse steps in. She glances at the travelers before looking back to the apothecaries. Her gaze lingered a bit on Primrose.
"Ah, hey Zeph, Alf... hope I'm not interrupting anything..."
"Sure, Meryl," Zeph steps away to let Alfyn hog the table, "What's up?"
"I think I may have found a new kind of weed by the river. But I'll need one of you to look at it."
"Sure. You got things under control here, right, Alf?"
"Yep! Go on ahead, Zeph." Alfyn does not take his eyes off his work for a moment.
Zeph and Meryl leave Alfyn with the three strangers. Therion finally finishes his tonic. He resists the urge to touch where the apothecary had inspected him. It itches. But other than that, the guy must have given them a miracle brew or something. The cough has subsided, and the chills lessened. But now, he feels the need to sleep.
"Alright, here we go..." Alfyn walks over with a mortar filled with some pale schmear, "It should reduce the inflammation and prevent further infections. Gaborra evergreen can be a bit dangerous eaten, but the antipyretic quality helps when applied to skin too!"
"I'll apply it myself," Therion says quickly.
"Well, be careful with that, since too much tends to cause a bit of a rash..."
"... Never mind," Therion grumbles.
"Uhh, so, you gents mind waitin' outside? Oh, unless ya don't mind the whole privacy thing, ma'am," Alfyn looks to Primrose for her reply.
Primrose just sighs. She had gotten used to being exposed by men. But if they were offering it this time, maybe she'll indulge herself in this fantastical privacy for once. She sits up and waves dismissively in Sadiq and Therion's direction.
Before Therion can say anything, Sadiq's on his feet and curls his arm around the young man's.
"Let's go, ol' sonny boy!" With a jolly laugh, he starts dragging the thief out with him.
"W-hey! I can walk-" Therion tosses his empty cup to Alfyn, who catches it. Then the thief and old man are out the door.
"Ok, now let's get a look-see..." Alfyn produces a coil of bandages and kneels to get a more level look at the wound on the leg. He winces, "Yeesh, this thing's festerin' a bit already."
"Ah. Well, I … we'd been walking a bit with some sand."
"Oh the Sunlands down south? Yeah, I can tell this ain't too well washed. Well, no worries. Uhh, didja step in anything funny at all? Might need to put an extra balm for that."
"Human and frog blood."
"Ohh, I get it. Ya ran into those annoyin' froggen, eh? Yeah, they've gotten a lot more aggressive lately, says ol' lady Ulinor. But," He chuckles as he lightly dabs at the wound with some of the concoction, "She thinks a lotta things were more peaceful back then."
"I see," Primrose gazes a bit expectantly at him as he works. Soon, she thought.
"Exactly what pierced the skin by the way? Gotta know if it was poisonous. Though from the looks of it, could just be the pus and infection..."
"Ah, it was a … thorn. From the firespike cactus of the desert."
"Oh wow. I heard those grow down south, yep. Never seen 'em meself. Don't think they're poisonous, but I do think they can cause quite the swell..." He glances up at her, "Did ya step on a cactus or something?"
"N-no. Someone planted it and I rested my leg there..." He is surprisingly innocent, she realizes.
"Oh, shucks. Sorry t' hear that. The evergreen should help with the swelling though, so no worries!" He grins to her reassuringly, "So, what brings you guys around here to Clearbrook?"
"We're... on our way to the Frostlands." He's an oddball for sure. His attitude is so genuine that she actually doesn't mind telling him this stuff.
"Oh boy, the Frostlands. Good thing you're getting this checked out now. 'Else the cold could set in and give ya gangrene!" He bandages her foot gently with some of the ointment smeared on the wraps as well, "Ok, that's that... better keep off that leg, okay? Anything else by the way? Oh, say, you're looking a lot better from that fever already!"
"Oh? Thank you...That was certainly a quick cure." She feels the lightheaded feeling go away.
"Hehe, but it's liable to come back if ya don't rest and eat well y'know! And those are the best medicines! Along with laughter of course! In fact, ya wanna hear a joke?" He gets up from kneeling.
"Uh... not... really..." Was he flirting or just being quite dense?
"Oh, well, tell me if ya change your mind. So, anywhere else you're hurt?"
"No. I was wondering actually how to repay you, Alfyn, was it?" She looks up at him slowly, allowing the seductive factor to build. It should be now. He will ask for payment...
"Don't worry about some coin!" He flashes that disarming smile and goes back to the table, "I'm just glad I could help!"
He must be playing a game. Not to be outwitted, Primrose stands and limps over slightly to him. The pain in her leg is already lessened. While his back is turned, she leans on him, her perky bosoms pressing against his shoulder blades. She breathes a bit into his ear.
"E-Eh?" He yelps with a slight start, "M-ma'am, ya should rest that leg!"
"Oh, sorry. I was taking you to mean you didn't want any coin as payment. So how about something else..."
"Something... else?"
"Yes," She tries to catch his eyes with her own from the side.
There is a slight movement of his eyes. Is that consideration? Mischief?
"I got it!" He turns to her, "You guys'll stay over at my place!"
"...Huh?" She stares a bit now at that odd reaction.
"I mean it! You're gonna stay off that leg and rest up! That'll be the 'something else!'" His smile is genuine and shows he's completely serious. The dancer is quite taken aback.
"...I..."
"No buts! Now you go sit down and I'll call in the other two!" Despite the command, his tone is more caring than it is forceful.
"...I think I saw a bench outside."
"Huh? Ya can sit on the bed, ya know..."
"It's fine, it's fine..."
They both walk to the door. Outside, the thief and old man are just sitting on the bench to the side of the doorway. The two men look to see the dancer exit, and Alfyn's head poke out cheerily.
"Next!"
Therion stays put for a second, expecting Sadiq to go next. The old man ends up pushing him up and out of his seat, practically throwing him at the apothecary as Primrose takes his seat on the bench with a sigh. The thief and apothecary disappear back inside the house and the dancer relaxes a bit, letting the medicines do their work. It had been a long ten years, meeting men of all kinds. She thought she had the other sex completely figured out by now. Yet, the apothecary had surprised her.
...
"Gadzooks, what's up with your arm!?" Alfyn exclaims when he gets an eye of the thief's arm wound.
"Don't touch me...!" Therion pulls his wounded limb away reflexively, "Tsk..."
"Eh, but I'm gonna need to apply the ointment. And that looks worse than the knick I saw earlier!"
"... I mean, don't..." The thief sighs irritably, "Don't touch me when I haven't said you can."
"Oh... well, shucks, sorry..."
This idiot sounded so genuinely apologetic that Therion blurts, "It wasn't your fault you didn't know, so don't worry about it."
"Did you get stabbed by a cactus too?"
"...No," So the dancer was stupid enough to step on a cactus? The thief fancies the thought of that in his head, "It was a monster. A big bug."
"Like the river wasps here? They're pretty big."
"... didn't fly. And I'm pretty sure it's bigger," Therion pauses to scratch his head a bit absentmindedly.
"Ah, hey!" Alfyn goes to stay his hand, "Don't scratch that knick!"
Therion resists the urge to slap him away after he was touching him without permission again.
I guess at least he cares.
Once the thief puts his arm down, Alfyn takes his concoction and goes to apply it to the skin near the temple.
"... Aw, shucks, I touched ya, didn't I..." He brushes aside some of the white hair to reveal the scabbed wound, "Sorry 'bout that. But ya shouldn't scratch even small wounds or they could get infected ya know?
"... It's... whatever..." Therion mutters.
Alfyn sticks a small adhesive on the temple and looks to where the thief hides his arm under his poncho. He points to the hidden arm.
"...So, can I treat that now?"
Therion sighs and reluctantly shows his arm to the apothecary again. The bleeding has stopped, but it now oozes cloudy liquid and has yellowed skin around the entry wound. Alfyn winces.
"Ooh... well, good news is it doesn't look poisoned... Bad news is I think it needs a drain."
"A what?"
"The pus needs to be drained."
"... How?" Therion looks to the other man skeptically.
"Well, we just prick the pus sac and squeeze it all out."
The gods fucking hate me.
Alfyn looks at the bangle curiously. "Can ya take that off?"
"No."
"Oh. Well it shouldn't make too much of a difference. Ok, this is gonna be the first time I drain an abscess!"
Therion feels his stomach drop, "First time?"
"Yeah, not too common an issue around here anymore, big ones anyway. But I've seen Zeph's old man do it plenty back in his day!"
Like hells he was going to let this psycho apothecary cut him open. But before the thief can make a mad dash for the door, Alfyn already has a small knife out. His smile does not make Therion relax at all.
"Trust me! Ya won't feel a thing!"
All Primrose and Sadiq heard outside was some loud scuffling, an indistinct yelp, and a thud. A few minutes later, a very grouchy-looking Therion comes out with a bandaged arm concealing his bangle. Alfyn pops out after him. One of his nostrils is plugged with a piece of bloody gauze. Despite that, he gives that same friendly smile.
"Next?"
…
Alfyn's actual house is much smaller than his operating office, which he explains is actually Zeph's place where he lives with his little sister, Nina. Clearbrook is divided by a clear running river. Alfyn lives on the other side.
"I go over and help out, since we were both studying together under his father and all. He passed just a coupla years ago..." Alfyn rubs the back of his head a bit as they walk down the dirt road to his house.
"You are very skilled, Alfyn... my leg feels better and my fever is pretty much gone," Primrose looks to his face, "Is your nose still bleeding?"
"Eh, it's alright. I got them all the time as a kid roughhousin' around!"
"I hope you apologized enough," Primrose says offhandedly at the thief on the side. He just rolls his eye and grunts.
"It's okay, really! Oh, here we are!"
They stop before the simple home. It is situated a bit from the town center, and seems a bit more disheveled than the other village huts. Alfyn opens the door and bids his guests enter. "Home sweet home!"
Inside is a singular room. There are two windows, one at the front and one at the back of the house. A threadbare sheet is tossed and unmade on the single bed. There is a jumble of books in one corner of the house, under a wall of drying herbs. A small, simple table with two chairs is under the window to the back. There is also an empty wooden basin and a trodden carpet. Looking out the back window, one can see a small herb garden. There is a dusty fireplace with a small wood-framed portrait. The only other piece of real furniture in the house is a simple cabinet on the side of the door, next to the study pile.
"Oh, how nice," Primrose walks in, eyes surveying, "You live here alone, Alfyn?"
"Ehe, yeah... for the past year now. Ma died pretty recently..."
"Oh, I'm so sorry..."
Therion goes to look at the portrait. It depicts a young boy, probably Alfyn, and a woman, probably his mother. She has honey colored hair. The thief's eye sweeps over the rest of the room. There isn't a chest or anything that outright screams valuables. Knowing this guy, the most valuable thing here would be those herbs, which the thief has little use for. Even that cabinet looks to yield little promise. From the slightly ajar door flap, he glimpses a cauldron maybe. Worthless.
"Look, snakes!" Sadiq points excitedly at some stringy herb hanging on the wall.
"Ahaha, no, not snakes. It's noxroot. That's the longest one I ever found too! Been making antidotes out of it for nearly a week now and I still got that whole length left!"
"So, how're we all going to squish onto that bed of yours," Therion points at the small bed.
"Oh, I can take the floor," Alfyn points to the carpet, "And... you guys can take the bed!"
Therion rolls his eyes. The bed doesn't seem large enough for even two, and he wants the three of them to sleep there? He sits down on the floor. "I'm fine here."
"Eh, so I guess we'll be floor buddies!" The apothecary hops over and sits next to him, much to his annoyance.
Primrose sits on the bed and feels the coarse fabric. It's an old bed for sure, but it's regularly cleaned enough that it isn't flea-ridden.
"...Sadiq will be joining you on the floor."
The old man doesn't seem to mind or care, looking about the small house like it's a wonderland. Therion shoots the dancer a glance but she doesn't catch his look.
"Say, why don't we all go get a drink if you're all settled in, eh? The tavern keeper's a real nice guy!" Alfyn grins, looping an arm behind Therion.
"That sounds nice, doesn't it," Primrose stretches, "You boys can head out. I think I will take the apothecaries orders and rest a little."
"We can bring ya back some drinks! Clearbrook's got some great spirits!"
Therion glances at the old man, "Is he coming along then."
"It's his choice," Primrose shrugs and lies down, facing away from them.
"Spirits!" Sadiq jumps up and down like an excited child.
"Hehe, guess that's a yes!" Alfyn stands, pulling Therion with him, "Let's go, guys! Rest well, er, ma'am!"
"Primrose," Prim says without moving.
"Nice name! And ya still didn't give me yours!" Alfyn looks to the thief under his arm.
Therion grits his teeth a bit and relents, "...Therion."
"Great! Off we go. C'mon!" On the way out, Alfyn grabs Sadiq too, "The door's unlocked, okay, Prim?"
He already has a nickname for her. She sighs and just gives a small grunt of approval. She hears the door slam and the apothecary's loud voice lingers as they walk away down the road from the house. Eventually, quiet settles, and she curls on the bed slightly under the thin cover. A slight wisp and crackle of dark energy zips in and out of existence near her as she tries to rest.
"So, you guys like to drink?" Alfyn inquires of his two companions.
Therion grunts. Sadiq gives a loony smile of no understanding.
The three walk back over the bridge to the tavern Therion had peered into. It remains rather empty despite the sun slowly crawling towards the horizon. Soon it would be dusk. The tavern keeper looks up at their arrival. The young man smiles under his mustache warmly.
"Alfyn, my favorite customer."
"Heya, Figgs! Gimme an ale! And I'll be payin' for these two newcomers!" Alfyn lugs Sadiq and Therion over onto the empty bar stools.
Figgs chuckles, "You realize I still owe you for that bunion cream, right? You haven't let me try and pay you at all."
"Hey, hey! I said it was fine!" Alfyn waves his hand dismissively.
"Well, take it on the house anyway," The tavern keeper sighs with a knowing smile and pushes over three tankards of foaming alcohol. His eyes glance over the foreigners quickly before he turns to look down at the spigots he's cleaning.
"Hehe, thanks Figgs!" Alfyn takes a hearty swig before slapping Therion on the back, "C'mon! Ya must be thirsty!"
Therion jolts a bit from the slap. He hadn't thought an apothecary to have that much strength. Then again, this was the same guy who wrestled him to the ground and cut his arm open. There's not another soul here to hear gossip from. Therion sips his drink without too much amusement. Drinks are just about all the same, whether in the cabaret or in the hamlets. Nothing special. Just something useful if you want to get drunk, which he wasn't looking to do.
Sadiq seems to take Alfyn up on some challenge because the two of them start chugging the ale like mad, finishing their large containers in about three seconds. Figgs blinks a bit before quickly giving them a refill.
"Ahh! Always better drinkin' with buddies, ya know!" Alfyn grins and bumps tankards with Therion and Sadiq, spilling slightly.
"Mm! Delicious soup!" Sadiq chuckles.
"Haha, that ain't soup!"
While Sadiq amuses Alfyn, Therion looks to the tavern keeper. Mustering up some effort, he tries to get some work done.
"Say… Figgs, right?"
"Hm? Yes."
"You hear anything about… odd stones in the area or something?"
He had completely given up pursuing this subject with anyone in Sunshade. Too much women and drink addled their brains a long time ago. All they cared about was … stuff Therion didn't need right now. Without a lead still, he is quite a ways from getting the damn bangle off.
"Stones? You mean like… gems?"
"Maybe. Whatcha got on the wind?"
"Nothing much here. Last time anything ever happened with rocks here… some mine up in the Cliftlands was depositing gold into the rivers and panners from all over the realm were all over this place like flies to dung. I'll say, that was back in my old man's younger days."
"Huh. Nothing nowadays?"
"No. You looking for something?"
Therion drops the subject and takes a sip from his ale. Best to just leave it lest he seem suspicious. It seems unlikely this little place would have the dragonstones anyway. Figgs frowns slightly at the sudden quietness in the man, then shrugs and resumes his bartending. Alfyn just finishes his joke to Sadiq about the wasp and frog.
"…and he says 'That really stings!'"
Both the apothecary and old man erupt into a roaring bout of laughter. It is their third round by now. The thief rolls his eyes a bit as he speaks on the side to Figgs.
"Never a dull moment in this town with him around, I'll bet."
"You've got that right, stranger," Figgs chuckles, "Even as a young rapscallion, he always kept the town on its toes."
"Hey, why ya gotta bring that up, Figgs?" Alfyn catches onto the conversation, "Ain't I a big help 'round town these days?!"
"Yes, you are. Sometimes we wonder how well you're taking care of yourself with your mother gone and all those discounts you-"
"Aw, c'mon!" Alfyn gives a goofy grin as he chugs down another ale, "I just see people in a bind, and I gotta help out!"
Figgs smiles again, "We're lucky to have you, Alf."
"Aw, shucks…"
Therion stared at his ale the whole time over the rather corny exchange. This guy's face is better than Primrose's if it's a mask. It's too good to be true, that saviors like this exist, isn't it? But that woman's face comes to mind whenever he has lost all faith in humanity. That kind, soft smile was the first thing he saw waking up in Bolderfall…
"So, how long did that woman tell you we were staying?" Therion grunts slightly. He wasn't exactly thrilled to find out that damn dancer had promised the apothecary they'd be staying longer in this hamlet to recuperate as payment. But it is easy payment at least.
"Well, I reckon you guys'll be back up and at it in a day or two! Until then, ya oughta take it easy a bit ok?"
Those damn stones are out there somewhere, and he's just stuck here. Well, there's nothing stopping him from bolting this place. But it is free lodging. And this guy seems nicer than any prison warden the thief had met. Therion nods a bit before drinking.
"So, where' you headed? Prim mentioned the Frostlands."
"… North. And no, we're not traveling together."
"Eh, but you guys-"
"It was pure coincidence. We are not traveling together," Therion repeats to get his point across before finishing his first drink.
"Oh. Well, ya had me fooled…!" Alfyn laughs obliviously, "So you guys goin' to the religious ceremony or whatnot up there in the cold place?"
"Not really."
"Err…" Alfyn seems to think a moment. Sadiq beside him seems to have lapsed into a narcoleptic nap on the bar counter.
"Don't worry about it," Therion pushes his empty tankard away, "I'm just looking for something… or someone."
"Someone?"
"A really good locksmith."
"Eh, really? There's a whole bunch in Bolderfall, I hear, and that ain't too far from 'ere!"
Therion lightly scratches at his bandaged arm where the bangle is concealed. Of course, he could look for the veteran lockpicks in the old gang! Like hells. For a thief to show off that bangle even to ask for help… that's just a disgrace to their honor as stealthy workers. He'd need to find someone that wasn't in the profession… but given that the best lockpicks are thieves, that was super unlikely. Otherwise, why was he even on this stupid goose chase?
"Yeah, yeah…"
"Wait, so are you looking for someone, or something, exactly?" Alfyn looks to the thief, thoroughly confused, "Cuz you mentioned somethin' about stones?"
"… something," Therion rolls eye. This idiot was listening after all. He receives the refill from Figgs wordlessly, curling his hand comfortably around the grip of the tankard.
"... So, what's the something?"
What an inquisitive guy. If Therion weren't a thief, he'd love to be able to just ask questions like this idiot. No need to dart around the bush or sit for hours listening. Just ask and you shall receive. Not to mention how frank and … well, innocent this guy seems just made it comfortable talking to him. He reminds the thief a bit of that Yusufa girl actually, only less shy. But Therion is not that kind of people person, even if he could put on an act.
"Stones."
"Oh, but what kind? There's like, a lot of 'em… and some of them are even medicinal! Ya ever hear of the dragon's kidney stones?"
Therion nearly spits out his drink. Kidney stones. Really. Well, that sapphire dragonstone he saw back at the manor was… or so he hoped, certainly no kidney stone. He didn't know much about dragons though, like whether they passed gems as kidney stones. Gods, what stupid thoughts this guy is putting in his head!
"Never got my hands on any, but accordin' to the old books, they're real nifty for curin' a buncha things! From dysentery, to black fever-"
"That's great, that's great," Therion cuts off that vein of discussion before it can get too disgusting, "And, no. I don't think that's what I'm looking for. They're called dragonstones, not … kidney stones."
"Gee, never heard of that…"
"Riight, but you'd know all about their kidney stones and toenails and drool and whatnot…"
"Oh, do I! Well, sorta. I heard more about their scales than toenails. But their drool is a pretty potent potion ingredient to induce fevers and chills!" He eagerly produces a thick and worn tome from his bag, filled with clusters of pages sticking out from marked content, "Lemme see… Aha! See-"
"It's fine, it's fine…!" Therion pushes off the book enthusiastically shoved his way. Yep, this guy is a know-nothing on the issue, "I'll just keep looking…"
"Well, good luck, I guess… Ah, hey, Figgs, mind settin' us up with some dinner?" Alfyn pulls out a small worn pouch, "And we should probably take some back for Prim too. Ya don't look like ya ate much on the road."
Therion glances at the apothecary. The coin pouch can't be holding much more than a few leaves. This guy's clothes, on a second glance, are probably being worn every day, from how thin and frayed they're getting. And he's not taking a penny from them, and not even from these other people he's treating in this backwater place?
"…I'll pay for my own," Therion dumps a few leaves on the counter.
"Hey, apothecary's orders! You're my patients!" Alfyn grins to him, "It's no big deal!"
"Look, you… you're a nice guy, but you're poor as it is, ok," Therion says those last few words quickly and with a slight scowl, "So just let me do it."
Alfyn stares at him for a few long seconds, looking a bit stunned. Then his friendly smile returns and he loops an arm around the back of Therion's neck.
"Hehe, you're not still hung up on bloodying my nose a bit earlier, are ya?"
"Ugh… I have no qualms in giving you another one, just saying. Just take my money for now, ok…?!" Therion sighs irritably. This is why he doesn't like helping people.
"Alright, alright. Thanks, bud."
Therion sips his ale. Bud. Mate. Partner. Had he not learned his lesson?
Figgs receives the leaves with a small laugh, "How's about some fresh brook trout? Magg caught it just this morning."
"Oh, I got some herbs that'll totally go well with those!" Alfyn puts the book away and starts rummaging through his bag again.
"Uhm, no more medicinal plants please," Figgs gives a bit of a weak smile, "I know it's healthy, but it doesn't quite hold up in the taste category…"
"Just give it to us the normal way," Therion waves the tavern keeper off and goes to stay Alfyn's hand as he pulls out dried plant matter, "I've had enough medicine for a day."
"Aw, fine. I'll have you eat some with your oats tomorrow then!" Alfyn grins.
Figgs mentally sighs in relief and glances at Sadiq passed out on the counter. The old man is chuckling in his sleep, speaking in gibberish.
"Is he alright?"
Therion sips his ale nonchalantly, "Yeah, he's always like that."
…
I shouldn't have performed that last dance.
There is an unbearable pain at my chest. It feels like something is driving a needle straight into my body with the brunt of a behemoth. Despite the agony, I can't scream. Darkness constricts me like restraining tendrils so that not a sound comes out.
"Primrose..."
Father...
"Come, again!"
I feel a hard push against me. Father stands, stern faced, sword in hand. My own blade is heavy, and my body is dragging itself to its feet. This is where we would practice sparring, in the yard of the estate in Noblecourt. Father looks a bit different. His eyes are darkened, and his words seem to slur slightly. The whole vision is a bit wavy, like an image in the desert heat.
"Come... Rose..."
His mouth opens like a dark cavern to swallow me. I cannot scream. I feel the darkness wash over me and drag me deeper under. That door we opened that day will never be closed again...
"In accordance with the rites of darkness..."
Standing before the gate is a single woman with red eyes. Eyes like mine...
"The shadows be our faith, ever present and unshaking, lurking out of sight..."
Father. You stood by me the whole time. And you watched...
"Even when the blade is held at our breast, this faith shall be our shield."
It's that pain again, only now I can cry out. Cry out like I did nearly eighteen years ago. The finger of darkness leaves its mark on my skin, and I clutch at the otherworldly stain. Out, out you damn spot... My nails only scratch my own skin raw.
"You have to be strong … as the heiress of Azelhart."
Heiress... of nothing. You'd probably cry at what your little Primrose has become, father.
"Dance. Dance and rejoice, for thou art worthy to receive it, the title of the Azelhart house…"
It meant nothing to me. I only wanted to see you happy and proud of me, father…
"Bear it upon thyself, the shield of our faith. Dark as night, silent as shadow…"
I have to believe in… what? What is there left to believe in? I have faith only in my ability to kill those men. And even then… I rely on my power of allure to have others carry the burden for me. Is that all I have left to believe in? My seduction? This dark enthrallment?
I'm standing before that flickering fire again. My father stands at my side. He places a hand on my shoulder. I look up from the fireplace to the portrait of my… mother… I can't see her face… It's dark… I look and see father's face obscured by blackness, with peering red eyes. I run. This happened before. Eighteen years ago… but what… what happened? Why can't I… None of this is coherent… can't… understand…
"Understand this, Prim," My father's voice follows me as I run, unrelenting, "Everything we have as Azelharts… we fought for."
"Our lives, faith, power, prestige… Nothing in this world is truly free."
Shackles spring from the engulfing darkness and grasp at my wrists. My chest burns and my screams come out strangled.
"Princess Garnet…"
Simeon?
"She had been entrusted with the cruel fate… of bearing a monstrous power in herself."
Simeon… Simeon!
…
"Prim?!"
The dancer's eyes flash open with a gasp. She stops struggling against the apothecary and the thief's hands grasping her wrists. Her eyes are wide, and strands of her hair stick to her face from the cold sweat induced by what can be assumed to be a nightmare. Slowly, she seems to be getting lucid.
"Prim?" Alfyn says again, worry on his features, "Are you-"
"Let… go…" She seethes through gritted teeth at the two restraining her.
"Uh- S-sorry…" Alfyn lets go of her wrist. Therion follows suit, a rather disapproving look on his face. The dancer takes little notice of him.
"You were, uh, shouting in your sleep, and … your chest…" Alfyn points. The dancer's chest area has raw red scratches peeking out from under the necklace. Her nails have her skin and some blood underneath, "H-here, let me look at it…"
Nothing in this world is truly free.
She bats his hand away with a slight snarl. The bracelets adorning her arms jingle lightly as her arm trembles. Alfyn flinches slightly at the slap, and at those red eyes.
"P-Prim?"
Therion moves to plant himself slightly between the dancer and apothecary.
"…There is … nothing free in this world…" She mutters in a low, growling voice, "So don't LIE to me!"
"W-what? Is your fever back up?" Alfyn forces himself to look her in the eye, "Prim, we just got back and ya weren't sleepin' soundly, so we got worried…"
"…Hey, you're not back at that disgusting place anymore," Therion speaks up, "So wake the hells up and stop being difficult."
Primrose shakes her head a bit and places a hand to still her mind. "Kh…"
"Uhm… let's just get some sleep eh, guys?" Alfyn quips a bit nervously, "Prim, we also got you some fish from the tavern-"
The dancer jumps out of bed with a graceful leap, landing near the door. She doesn't look back at them as she opens the way out to the night air.
"… I'm going out for some air…"
Without waiting for a response, she walks outside.
"… Tsk," Therion scowls on the side once she's left, "What a bi-"
Alfyn runs out.
"Wh-HEY!" Therion runs out after him. Sadiq is left on the carpet, murmuring sweet gibberish from his rosy dreams.
...
The dancer walks briskly. Dark magic tingles at the tips of her toes and fingers, begging to be used again. The drain leaves her hypersensitive. She hears the sound of the idiot running after her from behind. With a single bound, her legs wreathe in dark energy and she propels herself away with leaps and bounds like a panther. She can still hear it faintly though, him calling her name.
When she had awoke, she felt that pain on her chest still. It beats with her heart, like a nagging pulse. His hands, one was on her wrist, to stop her from scratching. The other was on her breasts.
Did he mean it? Maybe not. He had seemed so nice and frank.
Had she overreacted then? No… she mustn't open up so easily after all, just after a small easing talk or two. Those ancient voices from beyond the hearth say it still.
Nothing in this world is truly free.
She runs through the cool night without direction or guidance from the moon, dark magic trailing her every bounding step. It pours out of her mindlessly, willing her to run on and on. At the edge of the small town, the magic abruptly stops, having run dry, sending her careening onto the ground.
"Ugh…!" She picks herself up and sees a bit of blood seeping from the bandaged leg, "…"
In the dark, her eyes seem to resemble fiery lights. Darkness does not hinder her vision when the magic makes her sensitive like this. It helps when needing to run in dark places without a lantern giving yourself away. However, her expression, despite the intimidating eyes, is rather lost like that of a child.
There is a sudden shriek from down the road out of town that jolts her out of her momentary daze. It is followed by cries for help that get weaker and weaker. It sounds to be from a woman.
Prim cautiously draws her curved dagger, walking closer. The noise comes from behind some tipped wagon and spilled barrels.
"H-hel—AHHH!"
With the slightest of urgency, Prim darts to see the situation. Immediately, revulsion leaps up from within when her eyes lay upon the scene.
The watch woman from earlier lays prostrated on the ground, clothes torn off to reveal her flesh. Her chest is smushed on the ground whilst her rear is pointed upwards. A large frogman is humped on her from behind, holding her down in forced coitus. A second one stands before her, holding her wrists down. Her cries are weak as the act is happening, hands grasping for the silver halberd jammed in the dirt a few feet too far away.
"He…lp…" The girl's face is red and puffy from crying.
Cold fury bursts forth from the shadows.
"Kroak?"
Primrose drives the dagger deep in between the eyes of the frogman inserted in the girl, pushing it backward. It flails and croaks madly as she tries to break its skull open, pulling off the girl. The second frogman draws his knife and moves to stab her side while her rage is focused on its companion.
A sword misses its snout as it sails past its face, landing in the dirt. The frog stops in its tracks and turns to see the pursuant thief leap upon it. Therion swears a bit under his breath. Moonlight is not the best light to aim under. And that sword was not meant for throwing. He'd also never admit he missed. Behind him, Alfyn pants as he tries to catch up to the thief's pace. The frogman sees them coming and tries to collect the rape victim and flee.
"No you don't…!" Therion growls as he moves with a burst of strength, drawing his dagger and slashing at the thing's throat. Frog blood sprays onto him.
It gives a garbled noise as it tries to croak, its throat sac ruptured. Therion sends it sprawling with a stab to its gut and a kick. On the ground, it twitches, making no more noise. He turns to peer at the noise of flesh being obliterated by a knife. In the dim light the moon provides, he can only see the silhouette of the dancer emerge, no second frogman. Her eyes are glowing a slight red in the dark, but it fades quickly. Alfyn finally catches up.
"W-whew… what was that?" He glances around, trying to see the situation in the poor lighting. His voice raises in alarm when he sees the dimly lit form of the girl on the floor, "Gods, Fiona!"
"We need to get her moved."
Alfyn gathers the naked, shivering girl in his arms. "We need to get to Zeph's. It's closer."
The other two nod. Under the cover of darkness, they flank the apothecary as they run back towards the center of Clearbrook. Little was said. Alfyn keeps his voice low as he whispers reassurances to the girl, who sounds delirious.
At the doorstep of the house, Alfyn pounds the door and yells out, not caring if he wakes the neighborhood, "ZEPH! ZEPH!"
There is a shuffle of feet and the door unlocks. The tired face of Zeph pokes out, illuminated by a candle in its holder in his hand.
"Alf? What…" He sees the blood and Fiona, "Crivens, what-"
"I think it was those river frogs…" Alfyn pushes past Zeph with little resistance into the house. The dancer and thief follow. Zeph closes the door behind them and they all step into the treatment area, where a little girl is slowly being rudely awakened on the bed.
"What happened, Alf…"
"I-I couldn't see, exactly…"
Therion glances at the dancer, whose bloodied clothes and body are exposed in the candlelight. She seems reluctant but speaks. Her voice is taut like a string about to snap.
"They… were deflowering her…"
Zeph and Alfyn both pale.
The little girl on the bed yawns and rubs her eyes. "Mmn… Zeph?"
"A-Ah, Nina…" Zeph nervously smiles, "S-sorry for waking you, um, can you …"
He looks to the bloody thief and dancer, at a loss of what to do.
"Oh, Alfyn's here! And… Fiona?" The little girl points to the dancer and thief, "Who're you?"
Alfyn tries to keep the urgency out of his voice, "Hey, Nina, we need to use the bed for an emergency ok? Do you mind waiting outside with my friends?"
"Those two with all the red paint on them?"
"Yes, paint…" Zeph sighs.
"Okay!" The child trots over and looks to the two bloody figures, "Hi, I'm Nina!"
Primrose clears her throat, "Ah, hello Nina…"
Therion grunts and steps out. Primrose and Nina follow after, leaving the apothecaries to try and help the traumatized girl. The dancer, thief, and child come out to the cool night air. Therion sits on the bench with a tired motion. The immediate area around the house is lit with light coming from inside. Nina gazes up at the night sky.
"Wow… so many stars! I always hafta go t' bed too early to see all of 'em!"
"… Yes…" Primrose gazes up where the child points, "…Do you know any constellations?"
"Yeah! Like that! That's Draefendi's bow!" The little girl points excitedly at a pattern in the sky.
"Ah, so it is… that's very smart of you, Nina…"
"Mm! Me an' Alfyn both have birthdays around the day of her feast! Zeph's birthday is in the month of Dohter!"
"I see…" Primrose manages a small smile. It vanishes promptly when there is a slight scream from inside the house.
"… It could have been worse."
Therion's words make her abruptly aware of his presence there. He doesn't look her in the eye as he folds his arms over his chest, slouching against the building wall behind.
"…If you hadn't run into them… who knows where she'd be."
Primrose takes the comment silently.
"What was wrong with Fiona?" Nina looks to the two of them innocently, "Is she sick? Zeph says she's always watching over the town…"
"… She'll get better," Therion closes his eye.
…
Fiona eventually cries herself to sleep, blubbering about the frogs and moaning apologies to her deceased father. The greatest injuries were not on her body, but in her soul after all. Alfyn looks troubled as he drapes the sheet over her. Zeph sighs, rubbing his tired eyes.
"We should tell her uncle Fredger in the morning…" Zeph rubs his eye, though out of a sort of different fatigue, "For now, let her sleep…"
"Yeah… sorry about this, Zeph."
"It's no biggie, Alf," Zeph pats his shoulder reassuringly, "You saved her from whatever those slimy bastards would have done to her…"
Alfyn nods slightly and bids his best friend good night as he steps out. The three outside turn to look at him.
"How's Fiona, Alfyn?" Nina looks to him with curiosity and worry.
"She'll be fine… get some sleep, ok, Nina?" Alfyn gives a tired smile as he pats the little girl's head softly.
"Ok! And then we can play tomorrow?"
"Yeah, sure, haha…"
The girl gives him a brief hug at his waist before going back inside her house.
Primrose lets out a slight sigh of relief once the child is behind closed doors. Therion remains where he is, silent. Alfyn lets out a brief sigh and looks to the two of them now.
"… Ah, Prim, your leg… Let's go back to my place and we'll fix it up."
They begin the walk back, awkward silence thick. It is a quiet night. Once back in the house, Alfyn lights a lamp by the bedside and goes to fetch some herbs from his work station. Therion goes and lies down on a corner. Sadiq has remained undisturbed during their absence. But he is now sleep-sitting in his usual pretzel-leg position. Prim sits on the bed quietly as Alfyn approaches with new bandages.
"I'll see if I can't getchur clothes washed up tomorrow. 'S a bit late right now to go to the watering hole…"
"It's fine…" Primrose sighs, collecting a stray strand of hair behind her ear, voice low, "Alfyn, I'm… sorry for having run off like that earlier in such a mindless manner…"
"Ah, that's fine…" He kneels and keeps his voice low too as he goes to clean the wound and change the bandages, "I should be sorry too… Therion told me about where ya worked afore… an' I guess ya didn't have that good an experience with the whole touch thing…"
Primrose blinks, surprised. Her eye rests on the thief on the floor, faced away. She can't tell whether to be surprised he bothered speaking on her behalf… or mad he just tells this apothecary those things. Who knows how accurate his account is even?
He chuckles softly and gives an apologetic smile with a slight blush, "I, uh, didn't even realize where I was touchin,' grabbin' yer arm... Sorry 'bout that..."
"… I see," She lowers her gaze to the man knelt working before her. For a moment, her mind drifts back to Yusufa, when she had given her the handkerchief. The dancer had gotten so defensive when the girl was baring her heart to her in earnest...
Nothing in this world is truly-
No.
Nothi-
Shut up. You're wrong.
Wasn't it that same kind of thinking that made her push Yusufa away? Constantly being mad at others because of the past … Yusufa had reached out to her for real. And this guy... He's probably the same. How could she have forgotten that? For now, the dark voices ebb at her call to silence them, reluctantly retreating into their niches.
"…For the record, though, Alfyn… I was just a bit disoriented from a nightmare. I'm generally ok with touching…" She murmurs so only the two of them should be able to hear. She couldn't trust the thief to be asleep.
"Oh, gotcha. Not sure how to really wake someone up peacefully from night terrors…"
"It's fine. I should thank you for stopping me from scratching my heart out," A small smile dances on her lips.
"Shucks, it wasn't nothin'. Therion helped," Alfyn grins slightly as he wraps the cleaned wound, "Y'were murmurin' somethin' for a … 'smeon?'"
She waves that thought away, "It was just a bit of delirium."
He nods and finishes bandaging, "…Alright, good as new! Now don't go running around like that again! I'm serious!"
Primrose chuckles slightly, "Yes… thank you, Alfyn. This time I won't."
"Ya mind if I look at that too?" Alfyn points at her chest again, which is still rather red, "Looks painful."
"… I don't mind…" She reaches behind and unclasps the necklace. As the weight of the jewelry lifts off the sensitive, raw skin, it itches and tingles.
"Yeowch…" He takes a small lobe of some plant and presses its cut side, which is wet, on her red skin. She flinches at the initial moist sensation, then slowly relaxes as it soothes the itch and pain.
"Does your necklace irritate your skin?"
"No… not that I know of…"
"Well alright… huh? What's that?" He pauses as he's cleaning the area and points, "Is that a wound?"
"Huh?" She hurriedly takes out her dagger and looks where he points with the blade's reflection. There, where her special birthmark is, seems to be an extension. The mark seems to be bigger, with something like a line extending from it, making it look like a crack on her skin. It's not so big that it is very noticeable. Likely it didn't wipe off, which is why Alfyn noticed.
"…It's fine. I'll just cover it with the necklace."
"Uhh, you sure? Was that what you were scratching earlier?" Alfyn squints at it closely, "… looks like a rose bud…"
"It's just a tattoo," She fibs hastily, "It was probably just irritated. I'll be fine."
"Well, I treated the red scratches, so I'll take your word for it…," He puts away the plant now, "But you better tell me if it acts up again!"
"I will, Alfyn," Primrose chuckles, "Now go get some sleep, mister apothecary. You need it after having taken care of everyone tonight."
"Hehe, sweet dreams, Prim."
The young man goes and lays down next to Therion after putting down his satchel. Primrose runs a hand absentmindedly over the mark on her chest for a few seconds. She then blows out the lamp next to the bed and lays down to sleep. But her mind now had new unease.
Did it spread because I was using it more these last few days…?