Tressa worms her way in with the rest of the group as they settle in. To save on buying an extra single, Primrose kicked Olberic out of her room into that of Alfyn and Therion's, allowing the young girl to room with her. The warrior had little to say in the matter since Primrose got his tongue tied once again with some witty words about leaving the young merchant girl in the care of brutes.
"Such a vexing woman..." Olberic grumbles as he doffs his armor.
"Phew, let's hit up the bath, yeah?" Alfyn laughs, "And I'm sure Prim's just being nice! Tressa didn't seem t' want to go home just yet, ya know?"
"Great... Another dead weight," Therion mutters.
"We up for a bath? They got a separate bathhouse in town!"
"Yeah, sure," Therion sighs.
"Indeed. We have been running about all day, no doubt. Tis best to take the chance to clean before we board the ship in the morrow."
As they go to hit up the bathhouse, Therion tosses a glance at the guild hall, which is closed for the night. He scowls at the memory of how they refused to pay them amid the chaos. Even now, no one had reached out to them after the pirates were over and done with. What a pain in the ass. Merchants really were just thieves by another name at the end of the day.
"Hey, don't look so glum, Therion!" Alfyn gives him a friendly slap on the back, "We still got a ship upward where ya need t' go, right?"
"Alfyn has a point," Olberic says with some heaviness, "Though, if time permits, I will speak to the merchants again before we set sail... for the sums lost were a bit... high this time."
What a buncha Pollyanna crap...
The thief had half the mind right now to go and steal whatever stash the merchants had hidden in their guild vault. But that depended on if the apothecary would let him out of his sight.
…
"Thanks again for this, uh, Miss Primrose," Tressa sits down on the bed in their shared room. She watches the dancer comb her hair with her fingers, as she lacked an actual comb.
"It's no problem, dear..." The dancer says airily, "Though you simply must tell me what you're wanting to do here, running along with us..."
She casts a firm look at the merchant girl on the side. Tressa meets her gaze.
"...There are many dangers on the road, you know."
"I know...!" Tressa folds her arms with a justified expression, "And my name's Tressa, not 'dear!' I know I got a lot to learn on the road... that's why I gotta go!"
"In such a hurry?" Primrose raises an eyebrow.
"I'm already eighteen! I jus' look young!" The merchant protests indignantly, "In the whole day you guys make a hundred leaves, I'll already to be up to a thousand in sales, count on it! There's merchants younger than me on the road as it is! If I wanna be the best, that means leaving the nest!"
"...I won't be one to stop you, Tressa," Primrose takes out her house dagger and begins to clean it, "But you need to be aware that the glitter and glam of the world is often just a face. Darkness lies in the hearts of many who will try to take advantage of you in this world. If you are too enthusiastic, you will be blinded."
Tressa opens her mouth to retort. She sees the dancer's eyes, however, and seems to think better of talking out of turn. Prim's words held the tones of candid experience. She had been elsewhere, after all. But, still, Tressa doesn't back down so easily.
"Well, that's why I guess I stuck with you guys. I know I have a lot to learn, but what better teacher than experience?"
"... That I won't deny," Primrose scoffs with a small smile, "It was experience that had taught me wickedness."
"Uh..." Tressa blinks, "W-wickedness?"
"Oh, don't mind me," Primrose gives her a slightly mischievous smile, "That's just a little preview for the trip."
"Oh, uh, cool," Tressa takes off her hat, "I guess we should take a bath, huh."
"That sounds lovely. Oh, and Tressa, dear," The dancer flips her long brown locks with a flourish, "Before we go at daybreak, you must go see your parents. That is my condition."
"H-huh?" Tressa takes a second to realize what the dancer was requiring of her, "W-why? They'll just try and stop me!"
"You should talk to them regardless," Primrose stands from the edge of the bed, "After all, even if you say those things now... You will inevitably miss them on the road."
How many things did I want to tell father? And now, I'll never have the chance...
"Mgrgrgr..." Tressa pouts and folds her arms with a puffed-out cheek, "Fine, if that's your only condition, Primrose..."
Primrose chuckles and lightly pats the girl's brown hair.
"... Do you miss your parents on the road?" Tressa looks up at the dancer with her lime-green eyes.
"... More than I can tell you with words," The dancer replies with a flawless smile.
…
Ophilia ends up rooming with H'aanit instead of Mattias, who ends up in a room with Cyrus, much to his displeasure. But he had to admit it made more sense for the girls to be together. Nonetheless, he sighs with annoyance at the scholar's mutterings of academic jargon and unneeded trivia regarding the history of mercantilism.
"... and so, it was decreed by the four signing kings that trade through the routes would be a sign of friendship, thus encouraging the municipal efforts of all four to-"
Mattias gets up abruptly, "Well, I'm about beat for the night. It's off to the baths and then to bed!"
"Ah, my, I hadn't noticed the time at all!" Cyrus exclaims, "I daresay you're right! It shall be nighttime for me to freshen up as well..."
Mattias picks up his things briskly, intending to leave the scholar behind. To his disappointment, the scholar comes right behind with his toiletries ready.
"Mattias, might I ask you a query?"
"Hm?" Mattias grunts with irritation.
Cyrus takes no note of his gruff tone, "Your association with Ophilia, is it business with the Church of the Flame?"
"Oh," Mattias smirks, "As a proclaimed academic, I didn't think you were interested in this sort of gossip, professor."
"Gossip? Oh, no, no, perish the thought!" Cyrus blinks in genuine surprise, "That was not a question of personal relationship, though I suppose it can be perceived to be such... I am merely interested in the workings of the church and its connections with business. There was a fascinating thesis I read recently about the relation between religion and commerce. You see, for the longest time, the church held considerable sway over the populace with their religious authority. Thus, it was not uncommon for merchants and their associates to seek approval from the church, which validate and boost their product above that of unrecognized competitors in the market-"
"We're friends," Mattias snaps, "We have been for a long time."
"Oh? That is quite interesting. Hm, yes..." Cyrus nods along, a pensive hand on his chin. Mattias grumbles as they check into the bath house. Even if the scholar wasn't the cause of trouble this time, he was still beyond annoying to deal with.
…
H'aanit sighs, resisting the urge to scratch her bandaged wound. The cut was initially deeper at the top, near her breast. The cleric's healing had staunched the residual bleeding. Ophilia glances at the huntress lying on her bed, her furs off. Save the bandages covering parts of her torso, Ophilia could see the toned huntress' body with scars. She couldn't help but think of how many wounds the huntress had sustained from even before they had met.
Linde's yellow eyes lazily glance over to the cleric and catch her stare. The big cat gives a small grin that almost resembles a knowing smirk. Ophilia averts her eyes quickly.
"Uh, a-are your wounds alright?" Ophilia goes to distract herself with her luggage, sitting on the floor to sift through her meager things.
"They acheth... but tis not a newe experience."
"It's good you're letting them breathe... Uhm, we can change the bandages and clean it later if you need."
"Thanken thee," H'aanit sighs lightly, "We oughten resteth early... The ship weigheth anchor likely near sunrise... and thou hath much attendeth to as it was through today."
"Oh, it's not like I actually did much fighting as you! I only just... helped with the wounded," Ophilia curls a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her voice faltering.
"..."
Ophilia hears the huntress shift out of bed. She turns to see H'aanit crouched down before her, face close to her own. She resists giving a small yelp and falling backward. But her face does feel suddenly warm.
"... Thine uncertainty," H'aanit says quietly, her green-grey eyes looking deeply into Ophilia's, "It doth worryen me. Thou needeth more faith in thine abilities."
"O-oh, that's very kind of you, er..."
"I merely speaketh as twas," H'aanit says briskly, "The healing art thou doest... Be'en no small feat. Thou saveth lives, as thou hath mine own. Tis nothing short of extraordinary."
Ophilia feels her temperature rise. She can't look away from H'aanit's intense gaze. In that moment, she would like to have it last. She finds her hand going to lightly touch the huntress' bandaged chest, grazing the two rings dangling from the other's neck. H'aanit glances down in slight surprise.
"O-oh! Sorry!" Ophilia snaps out of her daze to pull back her hand. To her surprise, the huntress holds her retreating touch.
"... It doth not hurten. Thine hands art ones of healing," The huntress says with a soft smile and a light laugh. Once again, Ophilia could listen to that lighthearted laughter forever.
Then, she remembered... there was no forever for them.
"I... I was just thinking..." Ophilia manages a shaky smile as she broaches the subject, "Once we return to Flamesgrace... you'll be on your way, won't you?"
H'aanit blinks. It was true. Her destination lay west of the Frostlands entirely. Ophilia, once the Kindling took off, would be back to helping out within the cathedral. It seems unlikely they would ever meet again save by some odd chance. This had slipped her mind amid the pirate fiasco. At once, she understood the cleric's unsure smile. Her own expression takes a pensive turn.
"...That doth sadden thee..."
"W-well... It's just … traveling with you and Mattias... and seeing all these wonderful places, meeting people... it has been... absolutely wonderful," Ophilia grips the huntress' hand, "I'm just being silly and selfish... but I wish I could go with you."
Their eyes meet again, and Ophilia's are slightly teary. H'aanit seems surprised, unable to react to this sudden development. Linde and Hägen watch the two intently, their attentions raised entirely. The huntress' expression slowly softens to that of a smile. She brings the cleric's gloved hand to her lips in a gentle gesture, as she had seen Leon do. Ophilia's heart suddenly flutters.
"Twould be wonderful if thou willst comen with me," H'aanit chuckles softly, "Thou oughten followen thine heart."
Now it is Ophilia's turn to be surprised. Her eyes widen slightly. Her heart indeed... When had she begun to feel like this? For the longest time, she was content to stay and help in the cathedral for the rest of her life. Sure, she fancied dreaming of other lands, but she would always come back to the cathedral. Her work for the church was repayment and gratitude to the family that took her in. Never had she thought of running around the continent. She always just humored Mattias' requests to travel with him. She was happy living and growing old alongside the nuns and priests...
But the appearance of this huntress had changed all that complacency. Her infectious bravery made the cleric want to step out as well, Kindling or not. Their trip thus far had completely changed the cleric's comfort area and expanded it.
But dare she step out of the boundary she had set for her own life?
The cleric's lip trembles a little and she leans forward on the huntress slightly, like a timid animal. She finally finds her voice and whispers just so the huntress can hear her shaky voice.
"C-can I... sleep beside you again tonight...?"
H'aanit lightly rubs the cleric's back with her other hand. She smiles softly and gives her consent, "Of course."
…
When morning came, everyone had rested as best they could after the crazy day before hand. Rippletide's busy rhythm had hardly been disturbed, seemingly recovering over the span of the night. By dawn, as usual, there is the caw of the local rooster, and the ringing of the bell for ships to sail and lower their anchors. The flow of bustling mercantilism remains relatively unchanged as traders from out of town move to and fro among the townsfolk.
"Ahh..." Cyrus yawns as he affixes a cravat under his vest atop his billowy dress shirt, "Amazing, the resilience of the business folk here..."
"We don't have much time for morning routines. Leon isn't a patient one when it comes to destinations," Mattias looks around, "We can buy a quick breakfast to eat on the way."
"Alright then...!" Ophilia nods, seemingly refreshed.
"Ah, I'm going to go with Tressa," Primrose speaks up, "We spoke last night and she has to see her parents before she goes traveling."
"Tis prudent," H'aanit nods.
"Don't take too long then," Mattias sighs.
"If you're late, you're walking north," Therion scoffs.
"Therion!" Alfyn elbows the thief.
"In that case, I shall meet with the Merchants Association," Olberic nods, "They have a duty to pay out their rewards."
"Ohh, don't count on it, my good man," Mattias sighs and shrugs with his palms out, "Sad to say but we merchants vary quiiite a bit on morals when it comes to coughing up money."
Therion twitches instinctively when Mattias mentions morals.
"Hey, if ya need it, I'll come with you!" Tressa pipes up enthusiastically, "I know those guys!"
"Nice try, Tressa," Primrose chuckles, laying a hand on the merchant girl's shoulder with a knowing wink, "But you are meeting your parents. Maybe afterward you can help Mr. Berg out."
"Ack..."
"If you wanna come so bad, you should've just snuck on," Therion mutters.
"We'll go first for the ship then," Mattias sighs again, scratching his head, "And tell Leon to hold off departure as long as he can... So, try not to take so long, got it?"
...
At the merchant's guild, the gates had reopened and the number of attendees had seemingly tripled from yesterday. There are large amounts of disgruntled merchants with papers for disaster compensation and recovery grants. The poor receptionists seem to grow three more pairs of arms and two extra faces trying to address all the shouting thrown their way along with oncoming paperwork. People who are waiting crowd wherever they can, including the job placement board.
Olberic towers above most of the goers. He fords his way through the thick crowds like a ship through roiling waves. Like yesterday, he hears the grumbles of the business thick in the air, along with new lamentations.
"First my shipment is reported stolen and now this!"
"Well, I hear they caught the no-good rats..."
"I wanna see a hanging over this! I lost nearly 400 because my ship couldn't sail!"
"Can ya believe they ain't giving out refunds? The nerve! Musta taken the money and ran at the first cannon!"
"Made the trip aaaalllll the way from Goldenshore for this! Can't get a single word in!"
"Where's the manager?!"
Olberic steers clear of angry whiners as he comes to the appropriate desk. After people who are not in line move aside, he only needs to wait a few more minutes before reaching the counter. The receptionist, a stringy-haired girl of teen years, looks up to him with clear nerves on the edge. No doubt the staff have been having a hell of a morning. Nonetheless, Olberic makes his plea.
"Hail. I am here to collect on a bounty," He pushes over the parchment with the pirate job.
"A-a bounty?" The girl looks over the paper and pales at the amount of reward, "Oh... You're..."
"I have a certified letter from some members of the association granting my party claim to the pirates."
Olberic is secretly glad he had thought to ask this of the constable when the law enforcement came to find him and Primrose watching over the defeated pirates in the Caves of Maiya. The man was honestly a bit miffed the warrior asked that of him as they were hauling away the criminals. Olberic noticed how he seemed quite shifty. Likely, he thought he could claim the bounty himself, despite being the town constable. However, after a few looks at the tall and intimidating warrior, the constable grudgingly handed over a letter with his seal. He tried to bargain here and there for a share, of course, but Primrose had him tripping over his own tongue and dignity within seconds.
"Oh, I, uh..." The girl looks over the paper several times, her hands feeling the raised seal and messy signature, "T-this seems … legitimate... Uhm, give me a second..."
She pushes the letter back to him and scurries to find her supervisor. Olberic sighs. What luck, to get a meek squirrel.
After a few minutes, she drags over a short, balding man with opaque-cut spectacles. He barely regards Olberic, turning his nose up at him before silently looking over the letter. He has to push his lenses back onto the arch of his nose several times as they slip. Eventually, his lips screw up a bit with some displeasure.
"... I'll be frank. We can't pay this amount," He pushes the letter back with a splayed hand, "The Association funds are currently tied up with some other issues at the moment."
"Is there no credit we can receive then? Or perhaps a partial payment now and a letter of debt for later?"
"Listen, we are in the midst of rebuilding after a nasty attack," The supervisor rests his elbows on the counter, leaning forward, "Honestly, we should have put a stop on all bounties this morning."
He makes a sound of dissatisfaction at that, looking elsewhere, "Best we can offer is a couple hundred. No future guarantees."
Olberic frowns. They were definitely stiffing them. However, given the current situation, even he could see the supervisor was being as blunt as possible. He had to appreciate the honesty at least. Others might have strung him along.
"... I understand your plight. I will take what I can. But I would still like more of what is due to us in some sort of credit. I will take the chance it cannot be delivered."
The supervisor rubs his bald spot with an exasperated sigh, "Give me a second."
He moves over to a conjoined desk and goes to shuffle through some things behind it. In a few moments, he hands the warrior a bulging sack of clinking currency.
"You keep that safe, got it? We aren't giving extras. Most funds are tied right now."
"Thank you..." Olberic thinks a second before stowing the bag away in the breast of his coat.
"As for future payment," The supervisor produces a letter which he scribbles on and stamps with a wax seal of the association, "This'll have to do. No telling if they'll accept it down the road. But that's all I can do for now."
"I see. Thank you nonetheless," Olberic sighs and pockets the parchment, "I bid you good day... and a swift road to recovery."
"Hmph," The supervisor scoffs, going off to another thing demanding his attention, "You wouldn't have come if you really cared."
Olberic purses his lips slightly and goes to leave. He keeps steady and vigilant as he goes through the bustling town, towards the ship. As he is not a merchant, his feeling for his purse is much looser, making him a target for pickpockets. Carrying such a sum on him, he cannot afford to let down his guard.
…
Primrose walks with the merchant girl back to the familiar Colzione Tradepost. The dancer eyes the medium sized establishment warily as they approach. It is not a shack, for sure. This is, at the very least, a successful middle-class shop. Outside, a middle-aged woman seems to be putting stock on some outdoor shelves.
Tressa holds back, lingering. Primrose gives her a mischievous push.
"Uh- H-hey, ma..."
"Tressa?" Marina turns to see her daughter. Relief washes over her face and she goes to lightly hold Tressa, immediately dropping everything else in her arms, "Oh, Tressa!"
"Uh, yeah, it's me, heh..." Tressa says a bit awkwardly, "It's … only been a night, ma."
"Young lady, the way you stormed out last night..." Marina holds her daughter's shoulders with a sterner tone, "We were worried you were running to go do something stupid!"
"I can take care of myself...!" Tressa puffs a cheek lightly, "See, totally fine!"
Marina finally notices the dancer who came with her daughter. She eyes the foreigner with surprise and suspicion, seeing as she looked like a streetwalker. Primrose gives a friendly smile and wave.
"Oh, this is Primrose, Ma!" Tressa introduces them both enthusiastically.
"Ah... a … friend?" Marina says with reluctance. She tries to return the smile but it is notably strained.
"...I just wanted to see little Tressa get home safe," Primrose says, not a flaw in her disarming smile, "You have a lovely daughter, Ms. Colzione."
"Oh, why, thank you..." Marina redirects her attention to her daughter, "Anyway, let's get you back inside. The shop isn't going to stock itself!"
"Uh, Ma..." Tressa pulls away a little from her mother, "About that... I'm not going to stock the shop … for a while."
"Huh?" Marina stares and blinks at Tressa's words, "What are you talking about, silly? Come on, we're all on the same boat here..."
"Marina? What's going on..." Olneo comes out and sees Tressa, stopping abruptly in his tracks, "Tressa...!"
"..." Tressa falters slightly and bites her lip seeing her parents. She glances briefly to Primrose on the side, as though asking for help. The dancer merely winks. Plucking up her courage, Tressa takes a deep breath and sighs, "Ma, Pa, I'm leaving Rippletide."
There is a brief silence, save the bustle of the adjacent streets of business. One could feel the tension jump immediately. A passerby hollers morning greetings to Olneo, which go unanswered. Tressa holds her breath a bit, looking hopefully at her dumbstruck parents. The first to break the uncomfortable silence is Olneo, who clears his throat with a cough.
"...What did you just say?" He mutters at first under his mustache before his voice escalates, "WHAT did you just say, Tressa?"
Tressa flinches slightly but stands her ground, "I'm leaving Rippletide. I'm gonna set out on my own journey as a traveling merchant and see the world! Just like you did, Pa!"
"T-Tressa!" Marina panicks a bit, afraid of another blowout, "Your father's time was different! We're just worried about you...!"
"I know, Ma, but-"
"Do you KNOW what's going on in the world now?" Olneo bristles, "Back in my day, a few bandits and thieves... but I was the 'Muscled Merchant!' I could handle a few thugs. Now? You got divine disaster stirrin' up the monsters and churning the oceans. People're becomin' worse off an' desperate..."
He looks to Tressa with hard eyes, "Ya ain't ready for all that."
"..." Tressa bites back her childish instinct to retort with some name calling. His words held a lot of sense and control. He was telling her the truth, frankly. Even within Rippletide, the harder times were evident in daily banter and exchanges from others in the port town. She grips the hem of her shirt, feeling more caged in by the second.
Before Marina can go to comfort her daughter, Tressa feels a dainty hand on her shoulder. Primrose leans in a slight bow next to Tressa, an arm looped around the younger girl.
"If I may, Mister and Mrs. Colzione..."
Olneo raises an incredulous eyebrow at the dancer near his daughter.
Primrose lightly tilts her head, still smiling, "Me and my companions will ensure that Tressa remains safe and sound throughout her journey."
"What?" Marina stares, "Are you... Did Tressa hire you? Are you a mercenary?"
"No way a mercenary would dress like that, Marina..." Olneo starts hesitantly.
"Well, you're right," Primrose laughs airily, "I'm no mercenary. I am merely a dancer. However, I have a mercenary in my company, and he would protect Tressa well."
She lightly taps Tressa's shoulder. The merchant girl seems to snap back from her defeated daze and nods.
"I-I won't be alone. I know you both worry sick about me so... I found some friends."
"Friends?" Olneo looks to his daughter and the dancer a few times, "What friends?"
"W-We've never been introduced," Marina says.
"Well, why don't I show you our merry crew?" Primrose gestures toward the piers, "I think you will find your worries assuaged."
Marina and Olneo stare at each other for a few moments. Then, they see the hopeful look on Tressa's face and seem to relent a bit.
"... If I so much as see a single cur with you, you're not going anywhere, young lady!"
…
Therion yawns, sitting on a crate atop the ad hoc repaired pier. They couldn't have business stalled even after the crazy events yesterday, and the pier workers broke their backs trying to put together hasty repairs so ships could resume coming in. The economy must go on.
The thief looks with boredom at people hauling cargo and passengers getting off. He didn't have any errands. Some others went to see if they needed any last-minute supplies, since the ship wasn't due to leave yet. Alfyn had tried, unsuccessfully, to rope him along into looking at some of the local apothecary goods. The cleric had gone with the Mattias fellow to go see William...
The Mattias fellow gives him the heebie-jeebies. He murdered the William guy and was keeping it under wraps. The cleric is none the wiser. Nobody knows, except him. Therion knew better than to speak up, after having seen what the guy can do. He also has that social face that can keep people wrapped around his finger easier than the thief sticking his neck out.
From the sound of it, there was some medicine William had that they needed. Mattias had gotten it illicitly and lied through his teeth that William changed his mind. The thief did wonder slightly how he was going to show the cleric a convincing lie. But if he was a dark practitioner like the dancer... they can make people see things and believe lies.
Therion did not need any of that so early. So, he skipped going anywhere and now just sits along the pier by the Azure Wind, waiting for departure time. It's not like picking pockets would be any easier today, and antsy people meant going to the pubs was a risk. And he didn't want to run into that merchant...
His mind drifts from watching the gulls overhead to the cleric. He was now with these annoying people, on a goose chase for some noble... How many days has it been that he's been bound by this damn chain? How long had it been since that day when that cleric fished him out of the gulley in the canyons of the Cliftlands...
His eyes opened a crack despite his body and mind telling him to stay asleep. Everything hurt. Every breath felt like a wood rasp within his chest. Gasping slightly, he could barely feel the bandages swaddled over every seeming inch of his aching body or the sheets under his grasping hands.
Her face came into view. She looked sleep-deprived, with raven hair drooping down from the white hood. But she was smiling.
"Thank the Flame … you're awake..."
She had taken care of him after the fall until he was well enough to walk again. Like a parent watching their child go out into the big world, she gave him an amulet of protection from the church, the same one strapped to his boot.
Every now and then, he'd think back about her. She should be pretty old by now, older than him. The last he heard, as her group was leaving via the north Cliftland passes, they were attacked by birdians. The swiftest of thieves who ran to the scene found loot but no bodies. She's probably still alive somewhere... If the birds didn't eat her.
It wasn't that Therion wasn't grateful, but he had his own life to live and eke out. There was little time to waste grieving for someone you only knew for a few weeks... Or so he kept telling himself.
"Not the talking sort, hm? Well, I'm Natalie, a cleric of the Flame."
His thoughts are interrupted as the large snow leopard belonging to that ridiculous-speaking huntress prowls over, looking him up and down. He returns the look neutrally. It skulks around him with a catty gait, tail arched and paces slow and sultry.
"It seemeth Linde doth taken an interest in thee," H'aanit approaches. She had gone on a small look through the bazaar for weapons. Rippletide has more variety than Atlasdam, though the prices were still obscenely high. It would be easier for her to gather the materials to make her own. However, she did buy some sturdier string for her quiver and bow.
"... Hmf," Therion scoffs, ignoring the cat's eyes on him.
To his surprise, he sees the huntress' lips show amusement. The huge wolf at her side snorts.
"Thou speaketh little... mayhaps that be why."
She stands there next to him now, a feet or two away only. Therion glances at her from the corner of his eye as they merely watch the hustle and bustle by the seaside.
Her body is toned, though not just lithe like the dancer's. There is undoubtedly considerable strength in her, just telling from her arms alone. Her coat seems heavy, as does a lot of her dress, but she's bearing with the temperature and sun just fine, not to mention running at top speeds. Strapped to her boots are bone knives, and she even has bone axes at her belt. Even more so than Olberic, this lady is armed to the teeth. Actually, she might be able to give the warrior a decent run for his money. The thought brings a slight smirk to the thief's lips, which the huntress takes notice of.
"Hm? Whatten amuseth thee?"
Therion quickly averts his eyes.
"...pfft..." H'aanit chuckles quietly, "Thou remindeth me of Linde when she waren young..."
Linde perks up at the mention of that and yowls with slight protest, making the huntress laugh harder. She scratches the beast between the ears.
Therion grumbles to himself. More annoying people have come along for the ride.
…
"My condolences..."
Ophilia bows her head to the constable. She and Mattias stand outside William's home in east Rippletide. The law enforcement had been called in after a neighbor found William's door unlocked and his grotesque corpse lain on the floor. Nothing had been taken, which puzzled the constable who suspected it to be the work of thieves. The manner of death also was even more unnatural than being stabbed to death. It was a gruesome and bloodless image now covered in a sheet whilst they investigate for clues. The cleric and merchant had arrived to see them standing around speculating.
"How terrible..." Ophilia grips her staff. William had not struck her as a friendly or scrupulous person, but his life was nonetheless that of a human being, "I am a cleric of the church of the Flame... may I say a few rites over the body?"
"Why certainly, dear sister."
"I'd think that's hardly necessary, Ophilia..." Mattias starts but is silenced with a single look from the determined cleric.
"He gave us the medicine in the end, right, Mattias? There's no need to hold a grudge."
"...Fine, fine, I'm sorry," Mattias raises his hands in surrender.
Ophilia goes to kneel beside the shrouded body. Since the limbs were pointed upward and the corpse was on its back, the shroud stuck up and one could vaguely see the body outline underneath. As Ophilia neared the body, she could feel a strange sensation, as if the hair on the back of her neck was standing up... and there was a chill...
She lightly grips her staff and closes her eyes.
"...Oh, soul of the departed... Oh, body designed by the gods... May the Flame guide thee to peace that lies beyond our understanding of this terra... Cradle of the gods who know the four winds, their origin, and the depths of the oceans..."
The rites performed by those of the church vary based on how important they can be. Some rites are simple enough for acolytes to conduct. Others are more practiced and require some implements and rank. The pontiff is of course able to do all things, but a majority of the rest of the clergy handles it. His Excellency, as an archbishop, is able to conduct almost all rites, from funerary to blessing birth. Bishops below that usually conduct readings of marital certification, as well as blessing land for planting season, and the like.
Basically, the church operated a myriad of operations based on faith rather than solely healing. Protection by the gods is a sought-after commodity. Some rites, like those for the dead, were in such high demand, particularly during war times, that they lowered the required rank and began to train the common clerics to conduct it to help with the load.
It is a relatively simple rite compared to something like protection for a baby, which requires some blessed ingredients. The rite of the dead is a mere piece of scripture spoken over a body to ensure them fair passage before the gods to the Afterlife. The scripture is said to have an ancient charm woven into it, such that it evokes powers through mere readings. In the church, they relate this to how magic is often based on a verbal component. Words have such power, as Aelfric and Alephan had created magic to be. Speech was a special gift given to man after all, and not beast.
As Ophilia mutters the last words of the rite, her eyes remain closed. She does not see the shroud twitch at her words. One of the investigators at the scene gives a shriek as the shape under the shroud seems to arch up and emit an eerie sound like that of a dying gasp. That alerts Ophilia and she looks up in shock to see the corpse grotesquely twitching, trying to stand.
"AUghhh gAUhhHhhh..."
"W-What in the name of the gods?!" The constable falls back on his ass, utterly useless as he can merely gape and stare in abject terror.
"Fili!" Mattias charges in and swings his heavy pack, knocking the shrouded thing away and into a wall. It hits the wood with a crack before falling nearly still, but twitching yet.
"M-Mattias..." Ophilia finally breathes, her face pale and clammy, "W-What happened? Why did it suddenly..."
"It might not have been fully dead..." Mattias shoots a look at the constable and the others of law enforcement, "Well, don't just stand there! Tie it up or something!"
"H-How …" Ophilia swallows, "Did they say he died again?"
"Don't worry yourself over it, Fili."
"Ahem, uh, we're suspecting some, uh, poison maybe... or even magic. Hell, no one saw nothin'..." The constable slowly collects himself, "C-Come on, men, let's tie this thing up!"
"... Let's get to the ship, hm, Fili?" Mattias sighs as the law enforcement gets to work. He stands, shouldering his pack and offering Ophilia a hand.
The cleric takes his hand and she stands, only slightly wobbly. Her gaze lingers on that shrouded form now being restrained.
"Is he... unable to rest? Such a … horrible fate..."
For a split second, her mind is invaded with an image. She sees William's desiccated face, with black holes for his eyes and mouth. The horrifying imagery speaks to her, saying one word in a haunting and airy tone:
"Savior."
"Fili? Fili?"
Ophilia snaps out of her daze at Mattia's voice. He takes note of the cold sweat dripping down her forehead.
"Hey, are you alright? Did you catch a cold?"
"Uhm... no..." Ophilia says, not quite looking at Mattias, "I-I'm fine... Just a bit... shook up still, I suppose. We... We should get going."
Mattias nods and leaves with her not far behind. Ophilia grips her staff tighter. She is trying to push that memory away... but that haunting voice and face were here to stay.
…
Eventually, everyone assembles before the Azure Wind. The crew is hard at work checking the sails, cargo, riggings, and everything else. H'aanit and Therion had sat around and waited.
Cyrus had made a small run around town looking for books. He and Alfyn ran into each other and the scholar hit it off with the apothecary immediately. The two were chattering about herbology the entire way back, having forgotten what they were even looking to buy.
Mattias and Ophilia return after their bizarre visit to the dead William. Therion glimpses the cleric's still-pale face and averts his eyes quickly. She likely saw that grotesque product of murder.
Olberic returns with some funds that were a paltry compensation for their efforts. He reports to them of the financial bind the association is in, and shows them the non-guaranteed letter of future payment to reimburse the reward for the pirate bounty in full. Therion rolls his eyes as he listens. He really should have just stolen from the merchant's piggy banks while he had that chance amid the chaos.
Last but not least, Primrose and Tressa walk over with the merchant girl's parents in tow. Olneo and Marina seem pleasantly surprised at first that there is a cleric in their midst. But, Olneo's scrutinizing gaze towards the rest of the group is fairly displeased.
"Yer that yellow-bellied bookworm!" The seasoned merchant points at Cyrus.
"Oh, eh, hello there, good sir," Cyrus gives a weak smile.
"T-These are the friends you made?" Marina looks to her daughter with exasperation.
"They're awesome strong! I'll introduce ya!" Tressa says excitedly as she begins to point to her new companions, "This is Prim, Berg, Cyrus, Ophilia, Mattias, Alfyn, and H'aanit!"
Olneo points at Therion with a look of suspicion, "And who's that?"
"Huh? Oh, uh..."
Therion rolls his eyes.
"Oh, this is Therion!" Alfyn offers jovially and waves to Tressa's parents, "Pleased to meetcha both!"
Therion grumbles and looks away. Olneo looks one more time around the group and then back to Tressa.
"Hail," Olberic raises a slight hand to shake as he goes to approach Olneo, "You must be... Mr. Colzione."
"Uh, well, yes..." Olneo takes his hand and shakes gingerly, "Are you... the mercenary I heard about?"
"...Aye," Olberic nods.
"And you'll be the one watching … everyone?" Marina glances over everyone as well.
"We all will watch your daughter well, rest assured," Primrose smiles and winks in Alfyn's direction.
"Oh, yep!" Alfyn grins, "You can count on us!"
"Uhh..." Olneo and Marina look to each other, at a loss.
"Your daughter is very brave," Olberic says firmly, "She aided us greatly yesterday in combatting the pirates."
"... She did, did she..." Olneo purses his lips and looks to his hopeful daughter.
"We're about to weigh anchor. Are you ready to board?"
Everyone turns at the sound of that commanding voice as Leon strides down to the pier boardwalk from his ship. At the last few steps, he makes a flourishing leap, landing right beside Tressa.
"L-Leon!" Olneo gapes.
"Hail, Olneo! I must say you and Marina look as fine a couple as ever," Leon smiles.
Tressa looks between the captain and her parents, dumbfounded, "You… You guys know each other?"
"I thought your spunk seemed familiar," Leon winks at Tressa, "I might have figured you got it from none other than the fearsome Olneo."
"We… well, yes, we knew each other. Back then, you were still the feared 'Azure Serpent' of the oceans," Olneo folds his arms slightly, "Now it looks like you've shaped up! They talk about you a lot in the guild some days. Breaking hearts and chasing leaves, eh? Ya whippersnapper…"
"Back then, you were still breaking bandit's bones as the 'Muscled Merchant'… I see how you have a nice home here," Leon chuckles, "I'm still no match for the merchant you were back in the day."
"So… Our Tressa's boarding your ship, eh?" Olneo looks up pensively towards the prow of the Azure Wind. It is decorated with the figurehead of a sea serpent.
"Aye. You probably already know that she and these fine folk," Leon gestures towards the party, "Were integral to the effort that took care of the pirates yesterday… Giving them a ride across Middlesea seemed like the least I could do."
He smiles knowingly at Olneo, who merely adjusts his peaked cap and rubs his mustache anxiously.
"See, Ma? Pa? I'm in good hands," Tressa smiles, "Just take care of Kuzco while I'm gone, alright? The little guy needs his nuts!"
"Oh, Tressa…" Marina wrings her hands, clearly conflicted, "I… Not that I doubt Captain Leon's reputation, but…"
"Rest assured, I will not allow harm to befall my passengers…" Leon crisply bows, "But I think they are well enough to take care of themselves as it is."
"It's always your uppity sort putting these ideas into their heads…" Olneo mutters.
"Ironic, isn't it? After all, you were part of the reason I changed my profession to become a traveling merchant," Leon smiles to the older man, "I remember being quite inspired … though I was admittedly young and impressionable."
There is a call from the crew above deck. They had everything ready now. Therion drags Alfyn to start boarding first. The rest begin to follow, leaving Leon, Tressa, and her parents atop the rickety pier.
Olneo looks with conflicted pain at his daughter. Somewhere within all his worry was his pride swelling. For a second, he saw himself in his youth, setting off with only the wares on his back to make a living and a name for himself…
This… is no different.
"… Tressa."
Tressa sees her father's firm expression. Olneo takes out a coin and flips it between his fingers before enclosing it in a fist. He reveals his other fist. There are two seemingly identical coins.
"Take your pick."
Tressa takes a glance at each of the coins in his hands. After about a minute or so, she picks the one in his left. Olneo lets out a heavy sigh at her choice.
"… Alright, ya got my consent t' go."
Leon watched the whole exchange with Marina. It was a fairly old-fashioned test of a merchant's worth. Using duplicate and real coins, merchants were tested by their gut sense. They cannot inspect the coin from all angles to check for forgeries. Few could have passed it so quickly, and at such a young age nonetheless…
"You must have the blessing of the scales, lass," Leon looks to Tressa.
"… That's our Tressa," Marina sighs with a small smile. She looks to Olneo, "Are you alright, dear?"
Olneo sighs and flicks the real coin to Tressa, which she catches. He smiles slightly under his whiskers, "Make us proud, ya hear?"
"Definitely!" Tressa nods, "I'll be even more famous than you or Leon!"
"Bold words, lass," Leon chuckles, "Let us board then, shall we?"
Tressa comes aboard with Leon. The crew pulls up the boarding. Others of the party are sitting around above deck or making themselves comfortable below. Tressa retreats to the starboard side of the ship, looking back to her parents at the pier. The anchor call is issued, and the ship begins to move once the sails drop and are tightened.
Tressa feels a slight knot form in her chest as she watches her parents grow smaller and smaller. They are still waving…
Hiding her tears, she waves furiously as well.
Slowly, the town she knew so well from birth swallows the two small figures at the pier… Then Rippletide itself becomes miniscule… until it blends into the horizon where the sky meets the sea.
…
Overhead, the squawk of gulls is apparent. The sky is nice and blue after the clouds had been blown northward. The dancer sits all pretty on the deck, watching some crew keeping pace. Beside her, the thief sits over a barrel, munching on an apple he swiped from the ship storage.
"You look like you fought some cats," Prim says with a knowing smile, pointing at the cat scratches littering Therion's face.
The thief scowls and draws the high collar of his poncho higher, "... At least I got paid."
There is a silence as the two merely watch the sea passing them by.
"... That Hilma woman..."
Therion's ears prick up.
"I wonder if we will run into her again..." Prim says pensively, "The world is vast... and she seems willing to run anywhere for the money."
"... Are you going to do anything about it?" Therion raises an eyebrow at the dancer. Her outlook at the moment is serene. However, he had seen the slip in her mask, and the rage which lay beneath.
"I don't know, but the world doesn't need such disgusting people."
Therion sighs, "You get all riled up and you're asking for trouble."
"I didn't think you'd care, dear thief," Primrose gives a wily smile.
"I'm just saying. I'm only going to look out for myself here."
"Perhaps that is what you think... But you've been doing the exact opposite for quite a number of times, no?"
The thief doesn't answer.
"Have you really a destination all this time? It's looking more and more like you're coming with us for the ride, haha," Primrose teases, "The company is certainly interesting."
"None of your business," Therion stands. He takes a few steps to leave before tossing a look over his shoulder, "... Did she want you to kill her mother?"
Primrose gives a small scoff as the thief takes his leave. Kill Hilma, hm? She certainly had half the mind to, after seeing just what sort of a rotten person she was. There was no remorse in her whatsoever, despite any crooked deals she'd made.
That sort of person... the world would be a better place without them.
…
Tressa follows behind Leon below deck shortly after Rippletide fades from view. She looks around curiously at the ship's innards. As a luxury merchant ship, it is not lacking in decoration. However, it is not so gaudy either. The narrow passages were like that of the smaller clipper ships.
"Uhm, so, uh, captain..."
"You can call me Leon."
"Oh, uh, Leon... Thanks again for talking to my folks, hehe."
"It was nothing. And I am happy to see Olneo doing so well."
"Oh yeah, that was a real surprise! I can't believe you knew my old man!" Tressa gives a laugh, "I mean... I know he was a well-known merchant but..."
"He has a family. That changes things, usually."
"So... what did you want to show me, Leon?" Tressa looks ahead to see an iron-fitted door.
"You displayed great bravery and wit... more so than any merchant. I never thought I would meet someone like that in a sleepy port town," Leon chuckles as he pulls out keys to open the door, "So I thought you deserving of a reward."
"Eh? You didn't need to! I mean, you saved my butt out there too!"
Leon merely smiles and pushes the door open, "Take a look at my trove."
Inside the room is a haven of treasure for merchant eyes. There are scrolls tucked in chests, barrels of precious minerals, sabers with jeweled hilts, necklaces of stellar craft, paintings, and so much more, all piled around the small room.
Tressa's expression positively lights up, "Whoa!"
"These are all things I have gathered through my travels... Some of them include selling goods... But most of them I intend to keep."
"This is amazing, Leon!" Tressa peers wildly here and there at all the treasures, "Some of this isn't even from Orsterra…!"
"Aye, I have gathered these from all my travels around the world. As such, they hold great value to me," Leon's eyes rest contentedly on the merchant girl, "I would only show them to those whom I trust."
Tressa pauses her enthusiasm at his words. She looks to the man.
"I… I'm glad you trust me, Leon, but… I dunno, it feels like you're expecting a lot outta me, haha…"
"Perhaps. But you nonetheless showed courage beyond your peers… And for that," Leon gestures at the valuables around them, "I will let you take any one treasure you wish."
"What?!" Tressa's jaw drops, "B-but… there are… priceless treasures… don't they mean a lot to you?"
"They have their value, indeed… But I insist," Leon grins, "Unless… you mean to tell me you don't care for treasure."
"O-of course not…!" Tressa puffs out her chest, "Merchants always know treasure before their eyes!"
"And they will their utmost to procure it," Leon nods, "Such is the way of those who know value."
"Well, when you put it like that…" Tressa flushes slightly and looks around, "Gee... I've always wanted to see all the world's treasures..."
There is so much to choose from! Even within the chests are multitudes of other things. Exotic pottery, foreign coins, knickknacks… After a few moments, she comes before a large painting of a woman looking back at her with a sly glint in her eye.
Leon sees her pause, "Is something wrong?"
"O-oh, I was just… I've never seen a painting so beautiful, haha."
"Oh? Are you an art enthusiast?"
Tressa shakes her head, "No… I rarely care about them, to be honest… But… This painting… She looks like someone spent a long time looking at her. The artist really cared about her; I feel… Because she's drawn so well. It's like… the artist's soul … I can feel it."
Leon arches an eyebrow in surprise, "… That's quite the eye you have there… This piece is from the famed artist Bastian, depicting his first love. She unfortunately died while young… and so he strode to depict her as an older woman, who she might have become… This was his last and, possibly, best work."
"Oh wow… I… never knew…"
"Is that the one that catches your fancy?"
"Uh, no, haha…" Tressa smiles, "I think it's better in your hands…"
She continues perusing under Leon's watchful eye. The captain is undoubtedly impressed by the girl's eye for value. Not even knowing the artist, she had deduced its worth and beauty…
"This one'll do!" She exclaims after a while of searching.
Leon sees her pull out what looks like an old, weatherbound diary. That's … He had almost forgotten about that.
"Is this ok, Leon?"
"… Let's take a look, shall we?"
She hands him the book. He looks merely at the inner cover, where the name of the book's holder is blank. He could remember the shaky hand that gave him this book years ago… the older man's face showed desperation as he asked Leon to take it as payment for a voyage…
"Ahahaha…" Leon chuckles softly, "This old thing… I had forgotten to throw it out."
"Eh? Isn't it a treasure?"
"Well, no… I received it as a pity of a payment from a man who wanted to board in my younger days… It must have gotten mixed in here."
"Oh. Well, that's what I want."
"Hm?" Leon looks to Tressa, "I assure you; this won't fetch much a value in any market…"
"Don't care. That's the one I want," Tressa says with bald-faced adamance.
Leon sees the determination in those eyes and smiles, "Very well. It is yours. But would you humor me as to why?"
"I… dunno…," Tressa takes the book back with a faraway look, "This is the diary of a traveler, from the first few pages I saw… And I guess it just… called out to me."
"Hmm… Well, if that is what you so desire, I will not bar you from it. But know that you could have picked anything else."
"Hehe, I haven't regretted a purchase since I was twelve!"
"Impressive indeed. Well, you may return up to the deck then. I will be a little longer. I assume you know the way?"
"Yep! And thanks again for this, Leon! I'll get right to reading it!" Tressa walks out with a bounce to her step, hugging the book to her chest.
Leon watches her go with an amused smile.
"A jewel among the rocks, truly…"
I hope this answers some questions on shipping. Short answer: Slow burn.