Out in the night, the party roved over the dunes. In the moonlight, Therion could not see where the desert began nor ended in any direction. He could glimpse the occasional wind blow a billow of sand over the dunes underlying the night horizon. The light of the city was far behind them now, and only the stars accompanied the waning moon in the sky. When a cloud passed, only Primrose was not blindly rolling down a sandy dune. Their progress had slowed significantly from their earlier strides due to most of them having fatigue from no sleep. Even Sadiq seemed to sway a bit from side to side as they walked. He muttered his usual gibbering thoughts, in a way almost like sleep-talking. It was a miracle he didn't topple over with the shifting sand underfoot.

"...Alfyn are you alright..." Primrose suppresses a yawn as she sees Alfyn's sluggish form. He looks like he's about to pass out.

"...muh? Oh, yeah..." He gives a wide yawn, "M' fine..."

He flops down a dune's side for about the fifth time. Towards the bottom, Therion picks up a strange noise. Alarm seizes his body as he recognizes it. Primrose notices as well, but he leaps first. He calls out for the apothecary at the top of his lungs, uncharacteristically loud.

"ALFYN!"

"H-huh?" Therion's yell momentarily rouses the apothecary. He'd rolled down to the foot of the dune, seemingly into a pit of soft sand. He hears a sound like a click and hissing around him. When the moonlight returns, he sees the monstrous maw of a large sand worm rise from the sand to chomp down on him.

"W-WAH!"

He scrambles to try and stand, but the loose sand in a sand worm's hole is architecturally designed to naturally be soft, hard to find footing on for prey. And so he doesn't go anywhere anytime soon. As the beast brings its fanged jaw down, he braces with his arms up for feeble protection against impending impact.

Just when he was expecting to be worm food, there is a blur of dark purple. The thief lands a slash on the bug's face, momentarily distracting it. Its carapace was hard, even for a sword. He grunts and quickly dashes out of the worm's immediate proximity, scooping Alfyn up in a princess carry as he runs. Traces of dark magic make his feet feel light.

Primrose lowers her dancing stance slightly, sighing in relief. But it wasn't over just yet.

The worm, momentarily confused, rears its head and dives for the thief trying to scramble out of its pit with the apothecary. Even with enhanced speed, the sand was making it incredibly difficult to gain any lead on the worm.

"Grr...!" Therion grits his teeth, "Get your axe out!"

"Uh- Okay!" Alfyn fumbles and pulls out the silver axe. It gleams in the moonlight.

A lash of dark magic strikes the worm's tail from behind and gets its attention. Sadiq stands, poised alongside Primrose. All fatigue seemed to be gone from the old man as battle lulled him into readiness. Therion takes the opportunity to let Alfyn down beside him and draw his sword and dagger. The worm hisses vehemently at the dancer's direction.

"Sandworms are blind!" Primrose calls out, "They can only tell where we are by the vibrations in the sand from our movement!"

Well that's just soooo helpful in this situation, thinks Therion.

The worm dives for the dancer and gets a mouthful of sand as she leaps atop its head. Running along the length of the body, she stabs her dagger down along multiple points to try and find a weak spot. But the worm's armor, unlike an arthropod, is continuous, with no chinks. It gives a hissing roar and throws her off. She lands back in the sands just as it sweeps about for Therion and Alfyn.

"Tsk...!" Therion saw the little effect both his and the dancer's weapons had on the body. They need something heavier, which means...

Before he can relay the proposition, the worm regurgitates the sand it swallowed earlier at them. The slurry of wetted particles pelts them like mud. Therion hears Alfyn yelp as his footing begins to slip and curses inwardly.

"Cut its belly!" He yells to the apothecary as he watches Alfyn start sliding down the pit towards the worm's lair again.

Alfyn quickly sticks his axe out as he's about to slide past the creature's body. The axe's heft keeps it steady as it makes a huge graze along the worm's side. Fiona had kept its edge well. But due to the impromptu action, it was not as deep as the thief would have hoped. Alfyn arrives to the bottom of the pit, where the sand is softest. He had pretty much ended up back where he started. But the worm flails and roars from the cut, too distracted to notice him for now. Its swinging tail nearly takes Primrose's head off as she throws another blast of dark magic at it.

"Hoooraaah! For freedooooommm!" Overhead, Sadiq leaps above her, spear raised. He lands on the creature's midsection and jams the spear in, once, twice, three times. The concentrated force exerted from the battle-worn spearhead pierces the tough armor and the worm gives out a high-pitched shriek. The insect's fluids spurt out. It writhes and thrashes as Sadiq keeps his spear in, hanging on for dear life.

It rears its head and tries to bite the old man. With a peerless strike, Sadiq draws out his spear with a flourish and smashes the worm on the head with the shaft end. The worm ends up biting itself a bit as Sadiq jumps off scot-free. The beast gives a pained shriek and turns its attentions back to the pit bottom, where Alfyn is too busy gathering his bearings to notice.

"Tch! No you don't...!" Therion leaps with both blades.

"Lowly worm... The moonlight calls!" Primrose snarls as she jumps as well.

The two cross on different sides of the worm. Therion's blades finally make headway on the worm's head, as the corrosive he stabbed in earlier has taken effect. The sword and dagger slide deeply into the soft worm flesh under its natural armor. Primrose's moonlight waltz blurs along the other side like an all-consuming black flame. The dancer and thief both land on opposite sides of the pit in conclusion of something like a paired dance. The worm's upper body sways in the air before toppling with a groaning hiss, making a cloud of sand erupt from the pit.

"Ungh... Alfyn?!" Therion frantically slides back down the pits edge, stowing his weapons and covering his face from the sand flying about. He looks this way and that for that apothecary, "Alfyn!"

Primrose slides down from the other side. Neither of them hears a response immediately over the howl of the desert night wind. Prim sees slight movement in the miniature dunes made by the collapse of the worm. Therion moves to where she darts and reaches faster. He sees now an arm sticking out of the sand. His heart sinks a bit as he starts to dig furiously. He didn't quite know why he felt this way.

He yanks at the arm and pulls Alfyn out. Sadiq leaps atop the monster's body and looks down as the thief lays the apothecary in the sand. Primrose shortly approaches.

"Alfyn?!"

Therion checks his breathing first and cleans out any sand in his mouth and nose. Alfyn coughs almost immediately with his airways cleared. The thief turns him on his side so he doesn't end up choking on more sand. Prim lets out a sigh of relief.

"Ugh..." The apothecary takes deep, halting breaths as he coughs out stray bits of sand, "Ow..."

"You hurt?" Therion leans back a bit to give him some space, "It did almost fall on you, you know."

"Hghk … nn... ..."

"... Alfyn?"

"...zzz..."

Primrose blinks a bit. She can't help but let out a light laugh despite the fatigue, "...He's asleep..."

"...Tsk. I guess we're gonna have to wait. Again."

The thief's voice showed irritation. But the dancer had a hunch that somewhere deep down he was relieved as he looked down at the sleeping apothecary.

…

Therion led them to a checkpoint away from the pit. Sadiq lugs the listless apothecary slung over his shoulder. They see the red strip of cloth fluttering in the night from a pole dug into the sand. Around the base of the pole are empty ceramic pots, many of which are cracked. They used to hold water for travelers, but people have long stopped filling them due to the dangers of the terrain.

The thief grunts as he sits down. The dancer sits a bit beside him, and the old man lays the apothecary beside them before hopping on top of an overturned pot and looking out like a scout.

"…mn…zz…Ze..n…" Alfyn dribbles a bit in his sleep. Despite the near-death experience from earlier, he seems to sleep phenomenally.

"…Psh," Therion mutters, "Idiot…"

"You care for him a lot," Primrose teases slightly. He gives her a side stink eye, to which she merely laughs in response, "I don't mean it as a negative thing. I think it's quite endearing. I hadn't thought you the type to be protective like that."

He scoffs in response as the dancer cleans out sand from Alfyn's eyes, "He's a hell of a miracle worker is all."

"…Say, you were awake when we were talking, weren't you, you little sneak?" Primrose gives him a mischievous smile, "Were you ever actually asleep?"

"It's annoying to lose so much time to sleep," He keeps his eyes off her, "Just like how it's unnecessary for you to need makeup on the road."

"Ah, but I am a dancer, nonetheless. I must always be prepared to take whatever stage presents itself to me, and that includes maintenance of cosmetics."

"Whatever," To Therion, it was worthless drivel. He couldn't tell if he preferred when they were at each other's throats while they'd been sick or talking circles like now.

"…So, are you going to keep watch?"

"No, I'm also going to practice some cheesemaking right here. What else would I be doing," Therion rolls his eye at the question.

Primrose rummages through the apothecary's bag and pulls out the blanket, draping it over Alfyn. He unconsciously snuggles in it with a dreamy look, murmuring some incoherent things.

"… You seriously aren't cold at all?" Therion arches an eyebrow slightly when he sees what she is doing.

"I've endured worse nights out here," Primrose says simply.

"I'm starting to wonder if that's seriously it," Therion grumbles, "Your eyes glow in the dark, and you use the craziest dark magic. And now the cold doesn't bother you despite the average wench catching a cold out here."

"You're watching me rather closely," Primrose looks to him with a coy smile.

"… We're both watching. And you're just…" He doesn't finish, instead sighing.

"What?" With a sly grin, she pushes her face up to his, "What makes you keep your eyes on me?"

"… I don't trust you," He looks her in the eye now at this proximity.

Her expression doesn't fall or anything. She seems satisfied with the answer and pulls off him, returning to her sitting position. They sit in silence, watching the night pass.

"… Do you not sleep either," He mutters.

"You want to be left to watch alone?"

"…Whatever."

Another lapse of silence. Sadiq sits down on the overturned pot and surveys the direction opposite of the thief.

"… So, you're going all the way up north to kill some people huh."

"…Yes. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you were listening then as well," Primrose sighs a little, "You do your fair share of eavesdropping in the taverns as well don't you?"

He hadn't thought anyone noticed, "…How do you figure?"

"Your face. You usually look a bit distracted, listening to other conversations."

He frowns a bit as he covers the lower half of his face with his scarf. He had worked for a long time on making the perfect expression of attentiveness. She'd seen through it easily.

"It's a bit rude, you know," Primrose lightly gives his shoulder a nudge, a playful expression on her face. He growls and folds his arms, tossing her a look of annoyance.

"Like you didn't do that all the time when you worked in the tavern? How else do you get information?"

"Guilty as charged," She smiles a bit to herself, "It's a skill I don't see many others have."

The thief buries his face in his scarf as a breeze blows by, sending ripples across the sand, "… We restock in Cobbleston… and then go for Rippletide… And it's north from there. It's fastest to remain close to the inner coast of Middlesea. And no detours."

Primrose nods and looks up to the moon. It would be a while before they reach the Frostlands. Would the crow still be there? Unease roils now where cold conviction was before. But she cannot rush it. It has been a plan ten years in the making, and it would not do for it to fall apart now.

Foul scavenger… Just you wait…

…

The sun came up almost too quickly for Alfyn. The heat from dawn was almost immediately felt as the blinding rays hit his face and forced him awake almost instantly. He has to blink several times to adjust to the harsh light of the desert morning, and get the sand off his eyelashes that accrued on overnight.

"Aaawwhn…." He yawns and stretches in the sand, feeling the blanket on him… and someone next to him, "…hm?"

"Good morning, Alfyn."

Primrose sits up from behind him with a petite yawn herself. She brushes off sand from the blanket, "How did you sleep?"

"Eh, Prim… Oh, I slept like a rock! … Ack, where's the worm?!" The apothecary jumps to his feet.

"Calm down, idiot," Therion stands and roughly pats the sand off his trousers, "It's been dead for a while now."

"Oh," Alfyn looks at the other three, "You guys alright? Y' didn't stay up all night watchin' or anythin' right?"

"I took a small nap," The dancer stands and shakes sand out of her hair.

"Okely-dokely!" Sadiq does a slight jig.

"We're alright," Therion looks Alfyn over, "… What about you. A big worm nearly fell on you and buried you in sand after all."

"I'm fine!" Alfyn gives a grin, "Just a bit dry in the mouth and all, but nothin' some water won't fix!"

"I saw the next checkpoint a bit ahead. But for now, we need shelter during the day," Therion sighs and glances at the dancer, "Any other caves viable?"

Primrose looks about, "This is further east than I'd ever gone really in a long time… The last instance I was here was when I was first brought to Sunshade as a dancer. I'm not familiar with this area at all, really."

"Great…" Therion rolls his eye slightly and surveys about, eyes eventually landing on a geologic structure jutting out of the sand like an arch, "… Let's go there for now then."

They make their way about the desert morning to where the thief directed. The arch provides moderate shade and shelter from the sun and wind. There, they divvy up their water and drink thirstily. Alfyn gargles a little and swallows, not wanting to waste resources.

"Aah…!" Alfyn looks around at their arid surroundings after another refreshing swig, "Gee, how long d'you guys wager we'll take t'get to the Highlands?"

"Depends. Shouldn't take more than two more days..." Therion grumbles a bit, looking out to the next red strip fluttering in the wind, "These markers are the only lead we got."

"Have either of ya ever been to the Highlands or Cobbleston?" Alfyn looks to the two, "I sure haven't."

"I figured," Therion mutters and leans back on the wall within the stone arch, "Been there once in the Highlands."

"Oh, was it to empty some poor noble's manor of their earthly possessions?" Primrose playfully teases. The thief mutters something and they can hear the bit about a "stupid princess."

"Hehe, well, I'll give ya one thing. Thieves steal here, steal there... steal everywhere! They never take a break from their job!" Alfyn laughs a bit, "They're as hardworkin' as bees!"

"Ah, Alfyn, your words are so kind," Primrose giggles.

"I mean, I don't think it's right exactly, but... heck that's a work ethic we apothecaries got too!"

Therion buries his face in his scarf. He doesn't look up after the apothecary's comment.

"So, how was the region, Therion?"

"... Rocky," The thief mutters, "Not as dusty as the Cliftlands, but just as annoying with those beastly birds and rats everywhere..."

"Oh, the ratkin? Heard some horror stories about that from Zeph's old man when he was a travelin' apothecary..."

"Like rats alone aren't bad enough, now they got friggin' knives," Therion sighs, "Monsters... And some already know how to use magic. Tsk, the human race is doomed."

"Aw, Therion..."

"How predictably downright cynical of you, my dear thief," Primrose chuckles, "I haven't been to the Highlands myself, only having passed by on the way here to the Sunlands. I don't count that much as even visiting."

"Ohh, ok..." Alfyn stretches a bit, "Hnn... Maybe we can keep moving just after the noon sun's passed? Oughta be cooler by then, right?"

"It would certainly save some time," Primrose looks up to the sun, "Do you think you can make ice to cool us off in intervals, Alfyn?"

"Heck, I can sure try! Whatever'll move us out faster!"

"... Remember to cover your heads," Therion pulls his scarf over his head like a cowl as he stands, "Or you'll get hot in the head. And I am not carrying either of you if you faint from sunstroke."

…

The sun was relentless even after passing its zenith point in the sky. True to his word, Alfyn continuously tries his best to form ice shards. Sometimes they would form sizeable chunks for them to suck on, relieving their heated bodies temporarily. However, more often than not, the magic whiffled and fizzled into just puffs of condensation which quickly evaporated.

"It doesn't work too well when dry..." Alfyn explains, chuckling sheepishly after the magic poofs for the fifth time in his hands.

"Does it ever work really well?" Therion rolls his eye.

"Don't start, Therion. You have trouble even starting a fire," Primrose sighs and ignores the thief's indignant seething at her comment, "Alfyn, are you sure your energy can keep this up? You've been casting for a while now..."

"I'm fine! It'll take more n' this t'get me down!"

To the dancer's relief, the sun was beginning to lower into the horizon and the sky darkens. They had passed two other red checkpoints. Ahead, she could see the mountains rise up all the way to the edge of the sky, signaling the end of the desert.

"We'll be in the Highlands by nightfall... At last," Therion lets out a long sigh, "And then it's hard rock all the way on and up..."

"Aw, cheer up, Therion!" Alfyn gives the thief a jolly slap on the back, "Can't be any worse than dyin' in the desert all dried up like jerky!"

"At least we can rest properly once there... hopefully," Primrose rubs her foot gingerly, "We'll need it before we trek our soles raw."

Therion snorts, "Does the princess require a pack mule to carry her everywhere?"

"I'd be impressed if you could steal that, dear thief," Primrose sighs, "Those are luxuries we can hardly think of on the road."

"Huh? Are your feet hurtin,' Prim?" Alfyn squats down in front of her, "Climb on!"

Therion suppresses a laugh. Primrose almost laughs, failing to repress a small smile of amusement at the gesture, "Thank you, but no thank you, Alfyn. I can walk on my own two feet."

"Eh, you sure? Cuz it's no bother..."

"Yes, I'm fine. Besides, I have Sadiq, remember?"

The old man is playing with his lips as they walk, making sounds like "Bibbitybibbitybibbity."

"Well, alright..." Alfyn stands, "But ya both gotta be mindful of yer feet ya hear! It can't be hard, dancin' and stealin' on 'em all day...!"

This sappy idiot can't be real...

Therion sighs, "I've walked my share of hard rock for a while, so I'll be fine."

"Oh, ya grew up in a place like the Highlands?" Alfyn looks to the thief, "Actually... where did ya come from, Therion?"

"... The Cliftlands," Therion looks on ahead, "And not just rocks and canyons. I've scaled all kinds of surfaces. So I'll be fine. Just worry about princess twinkle-toes there with the open sandals."

"Oh, so considerate of you!" Primrose folds her arms a bit with a trying smile.

"You're welcome. I'm so nice, aren't I," Therion dryly chuckles briefly.

…

It is dark when the travelers encounter something like solid ground under their feet. Here, in the moonlight, the bare stones of the Highland crags are lain bare. There are many shapes formed by the many rocks and clusters about. The grey mountains seem bleached white in the pale light and the party slowly makes their way up the first few feet of elevation.

"…There…" Primrose pants a bit, bending over, "I see a cave…"

Therion rubs the fatigue out of his eyes and takes out his dagger. Concentrating all his focus, the blade of the weapon suddenly begins to glow red hot like a small torch. He can see the cave with its light. Cautiously, he walks towards it.

Alfyn yawns a bit, not seeing much in the dark. He sees the spark Therion lights moving away and calls out, "Therion?"

"Shh!" Therion shushes him in exasperation. Upon nearing the opening of the cave, he sees black fur. At the head of the sleeping creature is a pair of strong horns. A Highlands ram. These are a heck of strong hitters, having landed many a man in a near death bed with bones broken under its powerful hooves or a butt of its horned head. They were more aggressive and territorial during their mating season. Judging from the little family behind it, better not to risk intruding. Therion begins to back away and return to the others, his blade light dimming.

"…What is it?" Primrose catches her breath and looks to the returning thief.

"Occupied. Let's keep going."

The dancer sighs as they resume trudging. But she makes sure Alfyn doesn't hear. They tread along the precariously carved steps along the mountainous region. Countless steps by previous travelers have worn some of the stones flat for walking, but much of it remained untamed. Therion could glimpse a shadow of some long-worn banner fluttering in the high winds here. It was a mere scrap of cloth, possibly once a flag from a country.

A strong wind blows and even Primrose shivers at the cold mountain gales. They moan with the mountains and bellow down the mountainside. The trees, many which looked like hands of skeletons, creak with the winds.

"Prim, you okay? Cold?" Alfyn glances to the dim form of the dancer.

"I … I'm fine…" She forces her teeth to chatter more quietly.

"Therion, we oughta rest… Can't get no bearings like this."

Therion sighs, "I see an old flag. Could be an abandoned fort nearby."

"… I see an opening over there, by the rocks," Primrose points, "Might be a monster den… might not be."

Therion grunts and concentrates hard to light his blade again. He had to always be mindful not to light it too quickly or the blade could burst from the half-assed tempering effect the fire had on it. Once, the blade had splintered in his hand and he was stuck with cut fingers for a week. There wasn't a cleric in town there and he had to nurse his wounds for that brash action on his own. Luckily, everything healed correctly. But he'd learned the hard way.

He sneakily walks along the rocky ground to the den opening. Holding the blade light up, he shines light cautiously at the floor and walls. There are some signs of a creature having been here, from the scratches on the floor. But there are no other beings in the shallow cavern to be seen. The thief returns to the dancer and apothecary and the three of them quickly enter the shelter. Primrose comes back out briefly to drag Sadiq back in from wandering away. He had been pretending he was a tree lumbering in a forest.

"He's losing it more every day, I swear," Therion mutters.

"He can't really help it…" Primrose sits the old man down on the floor. He looks around the dark cave, peering for the moonlit entrance with a dazed expression.

"Hehe, well let's continue movin' once the sun's up eh?" Alfyn leans back on the cave walls, folding his arms behind his head, "… Ah shucks, I ain't sleepy at all…! Musta slept too much..."

"Just close your eyes and let it come then," Therion folds his arms over his chest as he leans back from his seat. The bandages concealing the bangle arm seem to be slipping slightly and he grunts with frustration going to fix them. Alfyn chuckles as he gives him a hand. Despite the darkness, the apothecary's hands had impeccable muscle memory from having bandaged many an injury.

"...Thanks."

"Hehe, anytime!"

"I don't suppose we should light a fire here… the winds would put it out. And its light would only serve to attract those nocturnal rodents…" Primrose draws her arms close as a wind howls by the cavern opening.

"Prim, y' sound cold. Here," Alfyn hands her his blanket. His hand brushes her exposed shoulders when he drapes it over her, "Gadzooks, you are really freezing!"

"Am I? Hm…" She draws the covers close, "Strange, I certainly don't feel particularly chilly."

"You have a fever?" The apothecary awkwardly pats her face before finding her forehead in the dark, "… Well, your head ain't hot…"

"I'm fine, Alfyn," Primrose chuckles and removes his hand, "But thank you for the blanket."

She draws Sadiq, who sneezes, into the covers. Most of the blanket goes to cover the old man. As he begins to doze, she has a small smile on her face.

"Can we just shut up and get some rest?" Therion mutters.

"Aww, but I really can't sleep! I seriously musta slept too much in the desert!"

"You're just naturally full of energy," Therion sighs.

"Oh, thanks, Therion!" Alfyn grins, "...Oh! Speakin' o' energy, we oughta eat a bit t' keep ourselves sharp!"

He hands out some rations in the dark, careful not to drop them. The thief feels the thing in his hand. It has a craggily and uneven shape, like a ball of oats. He makes a slight face despite being in the dark.

"What is this, another of your oats?"

"Hehe, I call it an energy ball!" Alfyn says cheerily, "Go on, try it!"

The thief grumbles as he and the dancer take a bite. They both taste the extreme bitterness first. Therion gags slightly.

"I put tons'a herbs in so it's guaranteed t' give ya a big boost of energy!"

"Oh, so that's why… ugh…" Therion coughs lightly as he chokes down the rest of the ball, "Tastes like birdian turd mixed with brick paste."

"Ehh! That stuff's really healthy ya know!" Alfyn says indignantly, "Nobody likes it for the taste… Maybe I should add some other things..."

"Well, now none of us are gonna sleep at this rate with that taste of 'energy' in our mouths," Therion rolls his eye.

"Hmph!" Alfyn childishly munches on his portion.

Primrose chuckles lightly, finishing the little ration ball, "Well, whenever I was unable to sleep… I usually resorted to stories."

"Boring ones to put ya to sleep?" The mention of stories takes Alfyn's attention away from the thief's comment about his food.

"No, no…" Primrose sighs a bit with a tone of fondness, certain memories coming to mind, "Sometimes my father would tell me stories… or I would… tell them to myself, the ones I had heard. They soothed my mind so sleep could come easier."

"Psh. Kids only get more overactive imaginations that keep them awake from stories," Therion scoffs and looks out watchfully to the cave opening.

"Aw, don't be such a spoilsport, Therion! I think I got a neat story fer bedtime…" Alfyn strokes his chin, "Ok, so it begins like this! There was this girl named Mercedes, right? She used t' live in Clearbrook."

"Oh, a childhood crush story, Alfyn?" Primrose teases.

"Ehe, not exactly. See, she always played with me and Zeph when we were all young'uns. 'The Triad' was what a lotta the old folks called us, hehe."

"Troublemakers like Figgs said, hm?" Therion asks offhandedly, sounding a bit bored.

"Guilty, hehe. I was the prankster of the group. Mercedes and Zeph were usually more of the bookish type. But we all had our fun!" Alfyn chuckles, "In fact, once we kinda got in trouble dirtying Ulinor's laundry, hehe... Anyway! Zeph an' Mercedes… they were kinda sweethearts, ya see."

"Ah, so I was right. But it just wasn't about you, Alfyn," Primrose giggles slightly, "Sorry for the interruption. Carry on."

"Anyway, so Zeph and Mercedes were pretty close-"

"Is this a story about how you mucked something up as a third wheel?" Therion smirks slightly from the side.

"H-Hey!" Alfyn lightly punches the thief in the arm, "I was the wingman if anything!"

"But you did muck up, then."

"… Anyway," Alfyn grumbles after a sigh, "Her folks got a job change or somethin' and so they were movin' out of the village. Zeph and Mercedes would never say it, but they were pretty darn bummed out about the whole thing. Zeph was never good at speakin' his feelins' an' all, y'know? So he wrote this letter fer her, but by the time he was done, it was already time fer her t'leave. He couldn't think o' facin' her so he asks me t' deliver it to 'er… hehe, he's a bit shy."

"Lemme guess," Therion adopts a thinking pose, placing a hand to his chin, "You lost the letter."

"No! Ugh, Therion, lemme finish!" Alfyn playfully gives the thief a shove on the shoulder, "I was totally gonna deliver it! I had it in my bag and everything when I got to the front of their house! The wagon was there an' everything! But the wagonmaster looked so darn awful! He was all greenish and clutchin' his stomach… The other adults were too busy movin' an' Mercedes was sittin' there in the carriage next to the wagon."

"… Ah. I see now," Therion's smirk slowly turns to a snide smile, "You-"

"Hush now," Primrose stops him from interrupting again by quickly flipping his scarf up on his own face. He scowls as he pulls it back down.

"She watched me make the medicine lickety-split right there fer the wagonmaster. Me an' Zeph were still greenhorn apprentices, but that was easy enough. He'd jus' eaten a bit much," Alfyn sheepishly chuckles, "Anyway, the guy was feelin' much better after. He thanked me an' they finished movin.' I was all proud at the moment too! Mercedes was lookin' at me all sad. I guess… helpin' the wagonmaster got me all caught up in apothecary stuff that I forgot I was carryin' that letter. Cuz the next thin' I knew, we were sayin' good-bye to each other and she asks where Zeph was. Well, heck, now my tongue was tied. All I could say was he woulda wanted to be there."

He pauses and sighs.

"…So, she left, saddest eyes ever. It wasn't until on my way back that I opened my bag and saw that darn letter still in there!" He sighs loudly, "And I knew then and there I'd done goofed up real bad…"

Therion lets out a small laugh. Primrose elbows him in the ribs, quieting his laughter.

"Did you tell Zeph?"

"… Naw," Alfyn mumbles and rummages around his bag by feel, pulling something out that sounded like paper, "I still have the letter…"

"Alfyn…" Primrose says with slight initial exasperation.

"… Hehe, I guess this was another reason I wanted to go out. I want to find her and deliver this. It's long overdue but…" A small smile forms on his lips, "Better late than never right?"

"Over a decade late might be a problem…" Therion wheezes.

Primrose ignores the thief, "Wait, so Zeph didn't even question it?"

"I just told 'im I gave 'er the letter and… she cried and said all the usual good-bye things," Alfyn blows a puff of air upward at his bangs, "He was mighty disappointed lookin' too… He mighta… figured it didn't sound quite like her."

"Wow, so you can do bad things like tell a lie," Therion chuckles dryly, "Here I thought you even more saintly than those church of the Flame goers."

Alfyn puts the letter away and rests his head on an arm propped up on his knee. The thief's comment had definitely struck him a bit. "I didn't mean to…"

"The point is that you want to fix your mistake, right, Alfyn?" Primrose says gently, rolling her eyes at Therion, "No one is perfect, but you are willing to admit and amend to it at least."

"… I mean, holding onto some letter for this long is pretty impressive," The thief makes a bad attempt to salvage what his words might have broke.

"Naw…" Alfyn chuckles half-heartedly, "Truth is I was just scared to tell the first time…. But after that I got so busy all the time I constantly forgot. Sometimes I'd think to tell Zeph so he could deliver his own letter. But then in the end, I figured I'd want responsibility to finish what I'd started."

"He should've delivered his own letter," Therion mutters. What in the hells was he thinking, putting trust of something that intimate in the hands of this simpleton?

"Well, that is in the end the important lesson I learned: Deliver your own letters," Alfyn flutters his lips a bit, "Anyway, so that's my story. The end."

"What if you never find her? Gonna take that lie with you to the grave?" Therion quirks an eyebrow, "Orsterra isn't exactly tiny. And she could have moved to another continent."

"I know, I know…. Next time I go back to Clearbrook, if I haven't delivered it by then, I'm gonna bite the arrow on the head an' 'fess up to Zeph," Alfyn says a bit wistfully, "Gosh he's gonna be mad…"

"Maybe you'll be lucky on our journey," Primrose gives a small smile and a sigh, "Well, feeling sleepy yet?"

"Hey no fair!" Alfyn huffs indignantly, rubbing his eyes, "I wanna hear a story from you guys now! Hehe, c'mon, it's only fair! Plus, I'm curious!"

"What are you, a kid?" Therion rolls his eyes.

Primrose chuckles, "Granted, I think he is younger than you and me… How old are you, Alfyn?"

"I'm 21!"

"Ah, I see…" Primrose thinks a bit, "I think I may have a story. It's not a personal one like yours, Alfyn… but it is a rather dear story to my heart."

"Ohh… Say, Therion, you got a story?" Alfyn nudges the thief. Therion responds with a low snore, "Eh! You fell asleep?!"

Primrose smirks knowingly, "I suppose it will be bedtime for you after this, Alfyn."

"Aw, ok then," Alfyn refocuses on the vague silhouette of the dancer, "So what's your story, Prim?"

"It is a fairy tale I was told since I was young by someone … who was very important to me…" Primrose blinks slowly in reminiscence, "He was possibly… a crush of mine from when I was a young lady."

"Oh wow… Hehe, that sounds real nice, Prim…" The apothecary suppresses a yawn.

"Mm… now… let me see, how did it go again… Oh, it's been a while since I told a story like this…"

"Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Gaia, there lived a princess named Garnet. From birth, she had been entrusted with a cruel fate of bearing a monstrous power in herself. This power, known as Alexander the eidolon, could destroy her continent if misused. Due to this power, she was imprisoned within the castle. Daily, she prayed to escape her fate…"

"It seemed as though the gods had heard her prayers when a mysterious thief named Zidane came to kidnap her. She went with him willingly, and they fled about the kingdom while the royal guards were hot on their heels. They had many adventures over the course of their time as fugitives, and princess Garnet came to fall for Zidane…"

"They ran about the Kingdom of Gaia until one day they met the evil Kuja. Kuja was an evil mage who desired the power latent within Garnet. He tore her from Zidane and spirited her away to his dimension surrounded in a beautiful cage of crystal essence."

"The noble thief and his merry band made out to rescue her at once from Kuja's clutches. Their journey took them far across the spans of the kingdom and even the world, for Kuja's magic prevented most entries into his stronghold. Desperate, Zidane sought the power of a powerful old sorcerer who told him how he might save Garnet. But the price would be his own life. Once Garnet was safely returned, Zidane's own life would be forfeit to the bargain."

"He did not hesitate. Though he knew the princess would be saddened by the ultimate outcome, he saw no other way. To him, the princess was more precious than his own life. And so, he made the deal with the sorcerer, and a gate to Kuja's lair was opened. The thief and his merry band walked bravely into the crystal dimension…"

Alfyn yawns for the fifth time. Primrose chuckles, pausing the story, "Alfyn, you should rest."

"A-aw, but… it was just getting to the … aawwhn… good part…" He rubs his face tiredly.

"It's just a story, Alfyn… I can tell you it another time," Primrose says gently, coaxing him to sleep, "For now you must rest. We still have these mountains to climb after all tomorrow."

"Mm… alright…" Alfyn reluctantly mumbles, leaning on Therion like a pillow, "Don't stay up too late yerself… Prim…"

Primrose smiles to herself as the apothecary dozes off. The thief hadn't opened his eyes throughout the storytelling session at all. Perhaps he really was asleep? But the dancer decides to err on the side of caution and stay awake herself. The old man at her side snores with a whistling breath and small mumbles of something about crabs and the ocean.

Come to think of it… We'll be passing into Rippletide after Cobbleston if we go north… Didn't Yusufa say she lived there with her mother? Maybe…

Primrose shakes her head slightly. She was getting off track. If she found Yusufa's mother, she would give her a piece of her mind. But she wasn't going to delay her own goals for that. After all, that crow did not seem entirely stationary. She had to get to the Frostlands before she loses his trail.

I can't let sentiment get in the way…

Despite what her inner resolve advises, her mind thinks of that man with pale, silvery blue hair in a braid. That story was always her favorite. He had read it to her all the time, such that she memorized it by heart. But she still asked him for it. And he always obliged.

"Primrose, have you ever thought to tell stories yourself?"

"Hm? What do you mean, Simeon?"

"Well, you love to dance right? That is telling a story with your body, using the flow of music and singing… Narration as I do is not much different, if not simpler."

"Nobody could ever tell stories like you, Simeon…"

"Ah, you are wrong dear Rose… When I see you dance, it's like my surroundings melt away into the tale you weave with your every step…"

A story… what stories she had told with her body since then. A tale of a fallen, broken house, her sullied name, her murdered father, and her only purpose left in life being to kill.

And you're not here anymore… Simeon…

She leans back in her sitting spot and sighs a bit, hearing another howl from the mountain winds in the night. The cold did not bother her one bit.

Author's Notes:

1. The bigger a sandworm, the better.

2. Alfyn invented granola balls.

3. Final Fantasy IX is great.