The morning mood that should have been nothing but festivity was suddenly destroyed by the news. Josef had turned for the worst last night and is once again deathly ill. He had slipped into a coma.
"..."
Lianna collapses to her knees at his bedside with silent tears. He looks corpse-like, with only a faint wheeze of breath to show he was still alive, if only barely.
Alfyn, the ever-dedicated healer, practically jumps out of bed to offer his services upon hearing of the dilemma. He checks everything over, including the sketchy bottle of foreign medicine from William.
"Hmm... Not anything I know at all," Alfyn sniffs the jar and licks some of the stuff, "Too soon to say if it's due to allergic reaction or-"
He pauses, seeing Ophilia pale at the implication of his words.
"I-I mean, it's not … You didn't know!" He tries to assure her with a smile, "Plus it ain't conclusive, so don't go blamin' yerself, alright?"
The cathedral is in disarray, as Lianna is absent, unresponsive to calls for her to go forth and conduct the Kindling despite Josef's condition. The travelers all watch with unease.
"...Seems like a big ruckus," Tressa tips the rim of her hat, "What happened, exactly?"
"Alfyn had said one of their high-ups fell almost deathly ill overnight," Cyrus folds his arms, "The person in question is related to the vicennial Kindling, which is impeding the proceedings. My, what a conundrum. It is most … difficult to separate oneself from one's private life and pursue solely that of one's dedicated duty indeed..."
"Gee, you almost sounded speechless for two seconds," Tressa chuckles.
"It is a very common problem," Cyrus says with some curtness for once.
"..." H'aanit wordlessly goes to find Ophilia. Linde and Hägen follow closely behind.
"Oh, H'aanit," The dancer greets the huntress when they nearly collide at the door, "Quite the ruckus this morning."
"Pardon," H'aanit says tersely, "Haven thou Ophilia see'n?"
"Hm? I saw the cleric run out the door just a few moments ago," Primrose blinks, "I can help you if you're looking for her."
"...If thou willst," H'aanit starts for the door, grabbing her furs and tossing them on.
Venturing near the spot by the frozen river where she had found Ophilia, the huntress and dancer can see that the banks and river itself are overflowing with snow from the storm, not a soul to be seen. The roads are being cleared slowly by townsfolk and Knights Ardante.
"She moved awfully fast," Primrose says nonchalantly, trailing behind in only her dancer garb, "Not to mention she blends right in with the white that clerics wear."
"Haven thee a cleric seenen?" H'aanit stomps up to a Knight, half scaring him to death with her serious appearance, "She hath abscondeth from the cathedral not too longe ago."
"U-uh, oh! You must mean Ophilia, uhh..." The Knight stutters before regaining his composure, "She was looking for Lianna and, uh, went towards the west Flamesgrace hill..."
"Does someone live there?" Primrose trudges over with some ire at the snow gathering in her sandals, "Ugh, perhaps I do need some shoes..."
"Well, no, but it's part of the town and well patrolled so no worries about monsters..."
Before he even finishes talking, H'aanit is crunching through the drifts.
Primrose sighs a bit and thanks the night before looking to Linde as they all try to keep up, "She cares an awful lot for that cleric, hm?"
Linde merely replies with a catty smirk.
"Oho, I see," Primrose returns a mischievous smile in turn.
…
The west Flamesgrace hill stands as a geographical opposite to the Cave of Origin, being on the other side of town. It's not so much a hill as a mound of natural rock that used to be an eroded plateau, now cut down to size.
Atop the Flamesgrace hill is a blooming of rare snow flowers, native only to high points in the Frostlands. They are white, crisp beauties that glisten with ice gathered on their petals, almost like fresh snow greeting the sun's light. In light of these flowers, the town paid to have the hill carved into so that people would be able to walk up a path along the mountainside and enjoy the snow flowers as they wished.
Here, amid the bed of beautiful flowers, Ophilia embraces Lianna. The two of them ran here as children when they needed quiet time from their duties at church. It is Lianna's most favored place in all of Flamesgrace, a secret she shared with Ophilia a few days into their first days as sisters. It was when Ophilia finally shed her reticence toward her new family and embraced Lianna as her sister.
Lianna sobs bitterly into Ophilia's chest, clutching her robes, "Fili... I … with father … like this... I... hic... I...!"
Ophilia bites her lower lip, cursing her own weakness, "I know... I … If only... If I could go in your place, Anna..."
While she had said it as a passing thought and Lianna paid no heed to it, the idea sparked in the cleric's brain.
"Everyone... in the continent... they're waiting..." Lianna heaves, "It's all so suddenly heavy... with father like this..."
Ophilia silently comforts the other as her eyes trail towards the cathedral from afar. She swears she can hear that deep and disembodied voice from the cave once more, from when Lianna had lifted the lanthorn out with the brilliant flame. It's sitting in the church altar, waiting to be taken across Orsterra...
After a few moments, Lianna quiets down a little, tiredly laying on Ophilia now, her red and puffy eyes staring back to the cathedral.
"I'm... sorry for that, Fili..." Lianna sniffles, "Th-Thank you for..."
"Don't be silly! You were there for me back then... now it's my turn to be here for you when you need it most."
"..." Lianna looks down, "I think the chill is starting to get to me haha... let's return... I'm sure everyone is... worried..."
"Mm..."
The sisters walk hand-in-hand down the hill. To Ophilia's surprise, H'aanit, the beasts, and Primrose are waiting at the foot of the hill. The huntress looks to the cleric with slight relief.
"I told you they were alright," Primrose chuckles.
"H-H'aanit!" Ophilia flusters a bit, "O-oh, the church didn't send you to come fetch me, did they? Ah, I must have caused quite a scene..."
"...Nay," H'aanit sighs with a small smile, "I amen glad thou art alright..."
Hägen and Linde stare at the huntress from the side, though the other does not care for their snide looks. Primrose giggles at the exchange, "Well, let us return then, shall we? There is a ritual, is there not?"
…
"...What?"
The face of the Pontiff and Patricia could not be more aghast at the suggestion. Natalie seems speechless as well, as does Lianna, at Ophilia's proposal.
"... Whatever do you mean, Ophilia?" Julius asks cautiously, "You... can't be seriously contemplating..."
"I will repeat, your Holiness... I wish to take Lianna's place as the Flamebearer for this Kindling," Ophilia says with a strangely confident tone.
"Fili..." Lianna stares, seemingly about to faint.
"... Child, are you... certain?" Natalie puts a pensive hand to her chin, "Can you bear the flame?"
"Natalie, we cannot encourage her...!" Patricia balks.
"It is just a test," Natalie taps her cane, "Don't forget that Ophilia had accompanied Lianna to the cave... If she cannot bear the flame, then she will not be allowed to go. This will be a simple decider."
"...Be that as it may, rejection by the flame can have dire consequences, Natalie," Julius sighs.
"Please, allow me to try!" Ophilia bows, "I... I want Lianna to be able to stay here with his Excellency...!"
"... I might have guessed you were after that sort goal..." Patricia wearily rubs between her eyes.
"...That is a beautiful sentiment, Ophilia, but that is nonetheless..." Julius shakes his head and then gestures towards the inner halls of the cathedral, towards the altar, "...I suppose there is no talking your stubborn self out of it... let us to the flame then."
The small ensemble of church heads and the sisters enter the room with the altar, which is a golden, casket-like table with the blaze of flames set within. The flames all connect to the lanthorn sitting at the center, with similar blue embers leaping up and down in the air. It is a beautiful sight and the centerpiece to the cathedral, the first and the to-be last flame of the Kindling.
"...Reach in then, and take the lanthorn. If we see danger come upon you, we will act fast," Natalie nods to Ophilia.
Ophilia swallows slightly. Lianna lightly grabs her hand out of worry. The two sisters share a brief glance, with Ophilia's eyes assuaging Lianna's own. After Lianna lets Ophilia go, the cleric steps forward, eyes trained on the blaze contained before her.
Once again, she hears that strange voice. It sounds more reserved and quieter than when she heard it back in the cave. It seems to echo only in her mind now. A force seems to guide her hands as she reaches in. For a second, she could see the awe-inspiring image of a tall man in a conservative, yet noble, cleric garb and a staff with a head blazing as bright as the flame... Aelfric.
"Thou hast been judged worthy to bearen the sacred flame."
She hears that warm voice as the god seems to smile, his eyes hidden under his drawn hood. Had that voice been talking about her all along?
"Go forth, daughter of light."
Ophilia blinks. The vision ends. She is back in the cathedral. Without knowing, she had taken the lanthorn into her hand from the blazing altar and is now facing the surprise of the others in the room.
"Uh..."
"F-Fili, you..." Lianna stares.
"What was that?" Patricia exclaims, regaining her tongue, "The flames, at that moment... They were absolutely an inferno!"
"I felt that warmth from here..." Natalie says quietly, "Ophilia has been accepted to be flamebearer."
"Er... Ahem," Julius composes himself briefly amid the development, "Indeed, that seems... to be the case. Ophilia, then, is suitable to carry out the Kindling."
"But all these days of preparation! Already we cannot-" Patricia wrings her hands.
"The decorum is merely supplemental..." Natalie assuages the other.
"I- uhm, I can give Fili a quick crash course!" Lianna volunteers, "It'll be quick!"
"Mm...!" Ophilia nods with higher confidence, "I'll prepare quickly and we should be good to go for today!"
"Then everything will proceed as planned," Julius says with a heavy sigh, "Just a small delay, nothing more..."
"Set down that lanthorn, child, and go with Lianna then..." Patricia says as if she has a headache, "Good gods, the amount of surprises in a day!"
Lianna hurriedly pulls Ophilia out of the room to go get ready for the Kindling. She gives the other cleric's hand a good squeeze.
"Thank you... Fili..."
Ophilia blinks and smiles, warmly squeezing back, "Nonsense... We're sisters."
...
By the latter half of the day, the travelers have plotted out destinations. By some work of fate, all of them are headed in the direction of the Cliftlands. Well, sort of. H'aanit is headed west, but her destination lies around the border of the Cliftlands and Woodlands. Olberic, Cyrus, Primrose, Tressa, and Therion all have business in Quarrycrest or the surrounding area of the arid region. Alfyn … well, he's seemingly just glad to tag along with the group, having grown used to the company.
"Hehehe, everything worked out!" The jovial apothecary chuckles, "And we're ready to go! Will we see your hometown, Therion?"
"For the hundredth time, no," Therion rolls his eye.
"If you have family, it would not be a terrible detour to make," Olberic says, slinging his pack on his back.
"Whatever."
"Is the dear scholar still scouting around town for supplies?" Primrose arches an eyebrow, having once again packed close to nothing, "What could they possibly have in this town in the middle of nowhere?"
"It's hardly in the middle of nowhere! You got a port down there, and the cathedral," Tressa folds her arms with an affirmative smile, "I'll bet the pilgrims bring some good trade!"
"Why aren't you down in town then?" Therion eyes the merchant.
"I was!" Tressa sticks her tongue out at the thief, "Early merchant gets the deal! I got myself a nice fur coat!"
She looks to Primrose, "Wait, you seriously travel with almost nothing?"
"I'm afraid so," Primrose chuckles, "Alfyn is admittedly helping me hold some water and food. Otherwise, I travel sparsely."
"Ehh..."
"A coat is a thoughtful purchase... I was thinking to rent a carriage out of the Frostlands if we can," Olberic nods, "If not, we will be trekking through the snows."
"Speaking of trekking, where's H'aanit?" Alfyn pipes up.
"Oh, she said she would meet us up front when we're about to go," Primrose shrugs, "She seems to know the town."
"In that case, we may as well meet Cyrus there as well. I am ready to depart," Olberic looks around, "Are you all prepared?"
"Yep, ready a while ago!" Tressa bounces to her feet, donned in her new coat.
"How much did that cost by the way, Tress?" Alfyn glances over.
"Oh, I haggled it down to about 60 from 180, hehe!" Tressa says with clear pride, "Wait, 'Tress'?"
"Uh, yeah, I thought that was a cute name!" Alfyn laughs.
"Don't just give people nicknames!" Tressa huffs, "You're lucky I'm okay with it... Because I'm gonna call you Alf!"
"Fair with me!" The apothecary grins.
Primrose smiles on the side. Tressa is a sort of kindred soul that would greatly benefit Alfyn, rather than him being surrounded solely by figures like her and Therion...
"They had some really expensive linen robe stuff, so I just told them I'd take these old furs off their hands!" Tressa continues yammering on about her art of trade haggling.
"Perhaps you can help us get a ride out of town as well then," Olberic says with a wry smile.
"Don't give her any ideas that she's actually useful," Therion mutters.
"Hey, I heard that!" Tressa bonks Therion comically.
The warm little party goes to leave the annals of the cathedral. All traces of the stormy sky from yesterday are gone, replaced with clearer skies. This means nothing for the climate, which remains crisp and chilly. Before the threshold, they are surprised to see H'aanit and her beasts with Ophilia and a small ensemble of people. Linde and Hägen perk up seeing the party approaching.
"Huh? What's going on?" Alfyn trots over, "H'aanit?"
"Ah, Alfyn," H'aanit looks to the apothecary, "Aren we ready to setten off?"
"We could ask you the same," Therion grunts. He eavesdrops a bit on the hubbub about the cleric and cathedral people.
"Aye, I aren ready. I weren with Ophilia," H'aanit nods, "She willen be coming with us."
"What?" Primrose asks first.
"Hey, cool, the more the merrier!" Alfyn says obliviously. Therion merely rolls his eye.
"Hmm, eight isn't that big of a travel difference from seven in terms of cost, so that's cool. Plus, having a cleric of the church looks totally awesome!" Tressa's young mind schemes greedily.
"Huh, when was this arranged?" Olberic asks cautiously.
"Uh, s-sorry for the sudden notice!" Ophilia bows hastily as the others permit her some breathing space, "I'm setting off on the Kindling and H'aanit heard and so she suggested that I could accompany you all for a little..."
"Well, the roads are treacherous, and your company is surely a non-issue," Olberic surveys the crowd they were to be traveling with, "That puts our traveling brigade at eight."
"Huh, that's a pretty good number!" Alfyn grins.
Therion secretly agrees, though he won't say it, because another person to drag along is just asking for trouble. On the one hand, eight is a very auspicious number in superstition, if not in Orsterra religion. On the other hand, this cleric would probably be like Alfyn, another obstruction to his thieving deals. He'll just have to be a bit more discreet, it seems.
But, on the side, he does take note that Primrose seems to be on the edge of objecting to the cleric's company. She seems neutral, but the thief knew her emotions a bit by now that she was displeased.
"Haha, glad to have you aboard, Ophilia... Oh, can I call you Lia?" Alfyn takes care to ask this time.
"O-Oh, sure, um, or 'Fili' is fine, too... That's what Anna calls me..."
"Hmm," H'aanit glances over their little band of travelers, "Where be'en Cyrus?"
"Probably out gawking over some book," Tressa snickers.
"Oh, I'll be ready to go, once I grab the lanthorn...!" Ophilia exclaims.
"Ah... You are performing the Kindling?" Olberic puts two and two together.
"Aye, she is," H'aanit says tentatively as the cleric hurries off, "Twas a sudden change, I haven heard... Her sister hath other obligations."
"Oh... Yeah, their old man collapsed and won't wake up..." Alfyn folds his arms with a pensive frown, "Couldn't make heads or tails of it... I gotta up my apothecary game!"
"... So that's why," Primrose sighs a little, "Well, I suppose we can wait for her and Cyrus at the front door then."
As Ophilia accepts the departing graces from the pontiff, she takes the lanthorn in hand, feeling its warmth gratefully at her fingertips. A small gathering of people is here to observe the official start of the Kindling. Outside will be the pilgrims from out of town. Lianna looks to her with a small, glowing smile.
"Good luck, Fili..."
"Mm... I'll be back soon, Anna..."
"Go forth in the name of the Flamebearer, and may he bless you on this pilgrimage," Julius declares, "First, you shall journey to Saintsbridge and light the flame upon their altar. Then, you must make way to Goldshore, and kindle their embers. Only when you have ignited these flames may you return and bless our flame once more, completing the Kindling tradition. Do you accept these burdens of honor and duty placed upon you as a member of this church?"
"I do," Ophilia nods.
"Then I declare you now, the formal flame bearer of this vicennia!"
A gentle applause erupts from the onlooking parties. Ophilia turns and greets many congratulatory phrases. However, within the crowd, she easily spots the dourer expression of Mattias among the smiles.
"Uh, Mattias?" She gingerly makes her way through to him, "Is something wrong?"
"... So, you're the flame bearer," Mattias looks to her with something like wistfulness in his eyes. He seems to reach for her for a second, then holds back, giving a forced smile, "That's great, Fili. You're going up in the world."
"What? What are you saying?" Ophilia looks to him with a creased brow, "I'm just going on the Kindling... I mean, not just the Kindling, I don't mean to depreciate its value as an honored tradition! I'm just..."
Without thinking, she gives a small look to Lianna. Mattias purses his lips for a second before breaking into a grin and ruffling the cleric's head.
"I get it. You go get'em, Fili. Make them all proud."
"Uh- T-thank you, Mattias..." Ophilia nods with a small smile.
She goes to leave now, to the group of adventurers with whom she will be traveling. Mattias watches her leave, his forced smile slowly reverting back to a pained expression bordering a scowl and a grimace.
Why, why does it have to be you?
…
"Day one on the road..."
We're out from Flamesgrace! Boy, if there were awards for bad starts to adventures, we've got a pretty good shot at one of the top prizes. First off, the Kindling has a lot of popularity. The entire front of the cathedral was packed! We were trying to wait for Ophilia to finish up, but we all ended up almost getting mushed by the crowd that wanted to see the new bearer of the sacred flame. I almost got lost with all the people clamoring and whatnot! By the time we got out from the crowd, I almost regretted getting out of bed.
After that, Cyrus never showed up! We couldn't wait any longer so all seven of us had to go around town and find that crazy bookworm! Hägen finally found him talking with the constable of all people because apparently a dead body was found in the snows after the storm cleared. He was chatting up a hurricane talking about the case and who even knows what! That guy has a serious problem with his mouth.
And even after that, we had trouble getting a darn wagon! The roads were apparently all snowed in with the storm, and no one clears it either, with the town still all white and covered. Pilgrims were all waiting for a ride so there was also a crowd there. There wasn't much of a way we'd all be walking. I stepped up though and got us half off a nice wagon ride out of town with some old guy Ophilia knew. We're due to stop at a turnpike since this wagon doesn't go all the way to the Woodlands.
Tressa sighs and looks around at the white blanketing the scenery around the wagon as they clunk along, all packed into sardines on this rickety wagon out of Flamesgrace.
"Thank you again, Richard..." Ophilia sighs, "It was a stroke of grace from the gods that you were in town..."
"Aye, I reckon not many others were keen t'leave town so sudden after a storm," The old man gruffly replies, holding the reins to the ox loosely, "So, yer finally headin' out fer real, eh."
"Yes, and I'm glad I don't need to do it alone..." Ophilia smiles.
"I must apologize again for having missed the beginning of the ceremony! Ah, such bad luck my curiosity makes for..." Cyrus laments, "That would have been a scarce opportunity indeed."
"You should apologize more for holding us up," Therion grumbles with irritation.
"Aw, c'mon guys, no harm done!" Alfyn chuckles, "We're on the road and on our way!"
"Alfyn is right to keep an optimistic outlook," Olberic sighs, "It does us better to think of how to improve ahead, rather than dwell on the past."
"Hmf. Where'd you say the coot was taking us again?" Therion looks to Ophilia.
Ophilia snaps out of her thoughts of Lianna waving to her as she left the cathedral, "Huh? Oh, uh, Richard will be taking us to his house! It's on the road to the Woodlands as well as northern Frostlands... Uh, please don't call Richard a 'coot.'"
"So, we got more snow to trudge through, fantastic..." The thief grumbles, ignoring the cleric's last statement entirely. Alfyn chuckles good-naturedly and elbows the thief in the ribs.
"I'm all bundled up for the trip!" Tressa smugly chuckles, "Hope you all packed well, too!"
"Quite! While my scholar's robes are quite inadequate for aquatic expeditions, they are quite padded and well layered against colder elements! Why, I have nary a need for a coat!" Cyrus exclaims.
"Alfyn, are you alright in this weather?" Olberic looks to the apothecary, still only with his vest and thin shirt. The blonde had refused the church's offer for him to keep the old fur coat.
"Haha, I'm alright, Berg!" Alfyn grins, fingers tucked into his armpits, "I'll get a coat down the road maybe... but I mean, the Cliftlands ain't all that cold, right?"
"It is true that xeric lands are commonly associated with sun-baked temperatures. But there are, if I recall correctly, winds and dust storms in the Cliftlands, as well as chilly nights," Cyrus rubs his chin before going to dig through his valise, "Ah, where is my meteorology book..."
"No need, Cy!" Alfyn looks to the thief with an expectant smile, "Therion knows loads about the place!"
Therion rolls his eyes, "... High places are windy. Everywhere else is dry."
"We just don't want you getting sick, Alfyn," Primrose sighs with a small smile.
"Quite the bunch ya got with these lot," Richard grunts to Ophilia over his shoulder, "We be nearly there."
Ophilia chuckles lightly, glancing to the wagon of warm banter around her, "Yes, thank the gods."
"So, thou willst venturen to the Riverlands first," H'aanit looks to the cleric, "Twould be best if thou finden others to travelen with should we parteth."
"I'd be happy to go with ya!" Alfyn grins, "I'm from the Riverlands!"
"O-Oh, thank you for your concern..." Ophilia sighs, "I will be happy to receive it, seeing as this is my first time out in the continent..."
"Fate works in strange ways," Olberic nods, "Mayhaps we may travel together still, seeing as the luck that had thrown us together is still of this world."
…
At Richard's stoop, he takes the old bull off the wagon and leads it into the lean-to by his house. The travelers disembark the wagon and look forward down the turnpike, seeing the bleak sun of day gleam down on the glistening snowy landscape.
"Thanks again for the ride, old man!" Tressa grins and holds up a handful of coins to Richard as he goes to fetch the wagon, "For your troubles! And keep the change!"
"Pfuh, high-brow city folk!" Richard scowls and turns away from the money, much to the merchant's surprise, "Keep yer money!"
"Eh- Hey, don'tcha wanna get paid?" Tressa pesters a little, "My leaves are good!"
"Save your breath, short stack," Therion scoffs, "It's a free ride."
"Ehehe, Richard, don't be so stubborn..." Ophilia laughs nervously.
"You young'ins and your fancy schmancy ways. Just git Ophilia back here in one piece, ya hear? That'd be payment enough," Richard says gruffly.
"Eh," His request seems to go over Tressa's head. Primrose chuckles and loops an arm around the younger girl.
"Alright, we best begin our walk westward," Olberic starts trudging through the crisp snow almost immediately, "Daylight here will not last long, so we had best reach warmer areas before then."
"I cannen leaden us. I hath this path runnen afore," H'aanit nods.
Linde rolls around playfully in the snow and Hägen merely watches. Cyrus falls almost immediately face-first in the snow with a few steps. Tressa points and laughs as Ophilia goes to help up the hapless scholar.
"Ugh... Thank you, Ophilia," Cyrus sighs, "It seems I forgot even with padded clothing that one's footwear is also an item of essence..."
"You don't get out much, do you, Mr. Scholar?" Primrose giggles, "If you watch your step, even sandals can be quite sufficient."
"I do have to admit that my coordination is rather lacking in the field..." Cyrus sighs as he stands, patting off the snow, "Some of my colleagues say it comes with so much time spent only reading..."
"Hey, c'mon, people!" Tressa moves to march ahead, "We're burning daylight! Faster we get outta the cold, the less we gotta groan about it!"
"Bossy little brat," Therion coughs on the side as he prances on, nimble as a snow hare. Alfyn jogs after him.
Primrose looks on ahead to the long road. At long last, her journey has begun to move in earnest... But she could not tell if it was towards a good or bad end...
…
Under H'aanit's guidance, the travelers make quickly for the crossroads, overlooking the thawing scenery that connects to the roads south, to the Flatlands, and west, to the Woodlands. The snows get thinner here, with slushy ground growing underfoot. It remains a bit chilly. Therion silently notes a thief's symbol on the side of the signpost on the road as they pass.
"Ahh, the forests ahead! The eastern Woodlands..." Cyrus looks out with a scout's hand over his eyes, "How breathtaking! And to think down the road is where Atlasdam lies!"
"We weren near here on the road when we hadden south goen," H'aanit says on the side to Ophilia.
The cleric lightly blushes with a smile, "Oh! Right... It feels more than just a few days ago haha..."
"Watch your footing," Olberic calls from the side, "The melting snows create for slurry with the earth underneath."
Just as he says that, the big lug slips. As he looks like he is about to fall into a mud wallow, he hastily pulls out his sword and jams it before him as an emergency support, keeping his body arched above the ground just in time.
"Woah, that was awesome, Berg!" Alfyn exclaims. As he takes a step, he also tumbles. Luckily, Therion catches him by the arm.
"Watch it," Therion grumbles.
"Well, at least it shows warming," Primrose daintily and gracefully plants her steps firmly without fail, "And we have been fortunate not to run into monsters yet."
"Ah, that reminds me, I should be taking fervent notice of the wild flora and fauna!" Cyrus claps a fist to his palm. Linde gives his rear a smack for good measure with her tail, making the scholar yelp.
…
Eventually, after sauntering through the muddy intersection between the Frostlands and Woodlands, the travelers are among the towering evergreens and other tall trees of the eastern forests. Here, Alfyn's keen eye becomes unbearably eager as he enthusiastically stops at every other plant that they pass to take a sample and examine it. Cyrus, much to Therion's annoyance, joins in.
"Hmm, the red berries don't seem to be like any I have ever seen..."
"Yeah, I think they're really hard... Not really meant to be eaten normally. Maybe I could grind it?"
"The leaves also have an interesting red vein running through... How curious. Is it a special nutrient or a color the plant developed for defense purposes?"
"That's a good point! Lotsa plants're pretty but can be a whammy on the stomach!"
The two of them huddle over their newest find in the last hour or so. Tressa sighs and stomps over, whacking them both on the head with her hand, "Hey, c'mon you two! Stop smelling the flowers and let's get going!"
"OW!"
"T-Tressa, perhaps you needn't resort to violence over something so small..." Ophilia says with a sigh, "I mean, unless we are in a dire hurry..."
"Ugh, they're too passionate for their own good," Therion mutters.
"Ah, right, ahem, just a moment!" Cyrus hurriedly begins scratching down notes on a messy book, "I must be vigilant, even when on the road!"
"Yeah, I hear ya!" Alfyn collects a few sprigs and the berries.
"Thaten ist a poison plant we callen red spine as hunters," H'aanit calls back bluntly, having walked further ahead, "Tis best to leaven them alone."
The apothecary and scholar seem utterly amazed at the revelation, almost comically so.
"You could show them everything and save us the wait time," Therion grunts as he skips along.
"Children willen exploren whatten they willst, whether we sayeth or not," H'aanit sighs.
…
It is nightfall when the travelers manage to luckily reach the outskirts of S'warkii. H'aanit had wanted to remain on the road where they might camp, so as not to make a detour, but after arguing about safety within proper borders with Olberic, she was outvoted by the others.
"I'm excited to see your hometown, H'aanit!" Ophilia says cheerily.
"While I am not against sleeping outdoors, I must say I am very interested in seeing a Woodlands village for the first time! I have heard and read only accounts from hunters ..." Cyrus rambles, "I have heard their cuisines and customs to be quite unique..."
"Hehe, you're happy goin' home, aintcha, H'aanit? Even if it's just to stop by?" Alfyn looks curiously to the huntress.
"..." H'aanit sighs, "Tis goode, I supposen... to see what hath passed since I hadden lefteth... Ah, and the business with Lord Ciaran..."
"Oh, right..." Ophilia recalls that nasty nephew, "You parted with good terms with the uncle at least... I hope?"
H'aanit nods, "I supposen tis merely a … silly feeling..."
"Hm?" The cleric looks to her inquisitively, "What's wrong?"
The huntress purses her lips a bit. Linde lightly rubs against her leg in encouragement. She sighs before muttering, "I feelen ill to returneth to the village without Z'aanta."
"Oh, right... your mentor..." Ophilia looks to the side a little.
"Hm? Ah, the one you are seeking?" Olberic interjects a little, "Are you not to return without him?"
"Nay, tis nothing such like that..." H'aanit shakes her head, "It hath been many moons now... For that long, I hath taken his duties on for my owne and protected S'warkii, as well as trainen the hunters... It doth feelen a mite empty, mayhap... Pardoneth my, erm..."
"No need to apologize for feelings, dear," Primrose appears on the huntress' other side, opposite the cleric, "It's quite endearing."
"I knowen not whattest thou meaneth," H'aanit looks to the dancer.
"Don't worry about it. Besides, won't it feel less empty now that you have seven travelers crowding up the place?" Primrose smiles.
"At that point, you'd wish it was empty," Therion mutters.
"Say, these neck-of-the-woods places aren't, like, all full of weirdoes, right?" Tressa blurts, "I hear a lotta weird stories about people who spend too much time as hermits and become real head cases."
"That's a bit rude, Tress!" Alfyn exclaims with a nervous smile.
"Different customs and practices can be misconstrued commonly as hostile or aberrations," Cyrus nods, hand on chin as usual, "However, those heuristics can cause more harm and misunderstanding. We ought to keep open minds than keep stock in tall tales, as we are going to see for ourselves!"
"I dunno..." Tressa lowers her voice like she's telling a horror story, "I may be a worldly merchant, but eating people or doing cult worship should scare anyone!"
"Those sound more like fringe sorta stuff," Alfyn chuckles, "I'm sure Sooworkee is a nice place!"
"The official pronunciation is 'Suh-war-kee,'" Cyrus begins lecturing, "The Woodlands have a unique linguistic construction where the first syllable, usually a consonant, is aspirated. Its tail sound is only loosely joined with the beginning of the second letter's pronunciation..."
"Hehe, I guess it really will be lively," Ophilia chuckles lightly.
"... Aye," H'aanit finds herself smiling a little.
…
Arriving in S'warkii, night has fallen in the Woodlands, blanketing the world in darkness. Torches light the area around the village, leading to the wooden triangular houses that constitute the township. It is not late into the evening yet, and guarding hunters stand about. Seeing the travelers enter with H'aanit leading, they all look in surprise.
"H'aanit? Be'en that ye already?"
"Egads! Y'all hear ye, H'aanit hath returned!"
H'aanit is instantly besieged by the enthusiasm of several hunters and their questions no sooner than three steps into the village square. As it is not day anymore, townsfolk are largely indoors by now, for which the huntress is a little grateful.
"Gee, she's popular," Alfyn says on the side to Therion.
"Ah, who be'eth these with thee?"
"Where be'en Z'aanta?"
"..." H'aanit shakes her head, "I haven yet seeneth him on the road."
"Oh..."
There is an awkward silence among the hunters.
"Well, uh, mayhaps ye shoulde goen to see'n the townmaster then. E'll be wanten t'see'th thee back."
"Aye, I wille," H'aanit sighs and looks to the travelers, "Pardoneth the others... We maye stayen at my abode."
"Oh boy, really?" Alfyn says with giddiness.
"Well, it'll save some leaves, but..." Tressa seems to think a moment, "You sure your place'll be big enough? I don't mind spending to have some leg room."
"Nay, I insisteth," H'aanit shakes her head, "I haven … ample room."
"Oh, thank you, then, H'aanit," Ophilia smiles warmly.
The other hunters leave them to go on their business. As it is night, it's not like a plethora of shops are open anyway. On the other hand, S'warkii doesn't have a lot of bustling commerce anyway. Tressa looks about and sees only some interest in beast furs hung out to be crafted, as well as some nice weaving hanging from some doors and windows. Overall, though, it is a pretty bare town.
They come to H'aanit's home, which is a decently sized triangle set into the earth on one side. Inside is a snug interior with some beast pelt rugs and wooden furniture. Alfyn notes quietly that, like his own and Olberic's quarters, it is fairly bare save for necessities. Sets of hunting gear in the process of crafting lay on a table. However, as for it being "ample room"...
"... Wait, you want us to pack it in like sardines or something?" Tressa gawks, looking around, "I mean, it's not super small but... you only got one bed! Are we supposed to camp out on the floor?"
H'aanit blinks, her tone candid and oblivious, like that was the logical assumption, "... Be'en that not to thine taste?"
"Ahaha, I don't mind, seeing as we have a roof over our heads at least..." Primrose laughs airily, "I assume we can sleep wherever we may?"
"Aye," H'aanit nods, "Should thou needest, I haven furs to padden the floors."
"Wow, this is like a sleepover, hehe!" Alfyn grins, "Ain't that fun, Therion?"
Therion scratches his head with exasperation and just says nothing. At this point, he was just used to this weird group and their lack of any ideas on anything. This was, honestly, probably better than sleeping out in the road in the end though.
"Erm, well..." Cyrus clears his throat a bit, "This will indeed be a first for me then."
Olberic chuckles, "On the road, we often carried our own cots to camp in snow or rain..."
"This is a very nice home," Ophilia smiles to the huntress.
Linde pounces onto her own bed, which is made of many different colored pelts. It looks like a bed she might have outgrown as a younger kitten, but she doesn't mind it one bit. Hägen snorts and lays down by the hearth.
"I willen sleepeth on the floor so another may have my bed. Tis not much used," H'aanit sets down some of her hunting gear by the door as everyone settles in, "I willen bringe back the dinner posthaste."
"Oh, need any help with that?" Alfyn sits up, clearly still full of energy despite the late hour.
"Ooh, ohh, I wanna look around too!" Tressa waves her hand enthusiastically like a child in class.
"I can help cook as well," Ophilia stands.
As the cleric, apothecary, and merchant accompany the huntress out, they see that she leads them to a sort of communal pantry. Scraps that are not used are preserved and stored so that others may use them, so as to best preserve the cycle of nature's consumption. Alfyn is utterly engrossed in some of the bones while Tressa looks hard at some scrap parts to think about hypothetical prices. Ophilia watches as H'aanit silently picks up some offal and bones for soup stock. The huntress turns as she hears the footsteps of the town headman approach. The elderly man smiles and the fire light glistens on his clipped, silver beard.
"H'aanit! How goode to see thee again, and so soon!"
"Headman. Tis goode to see thee as well," H'aanit nods lightly, turning to face the other, "I aren merely passing to the west and stoppen we did for the night."
"Thou needst no excuses, H'aanit. Tis goode fortune, really. I haven a bit of news that might be of interest to thine search for Z'aanta."
"Really?" H'aanit raises an eyebrow with interest, "Then tis goode fortune indeed. Pray thee tell."
"The creature thine master sought, Redeye... There waren news of it within the last tenday that twas spotted in the crags off to the land west, there of the cliffs."
"The Cliftlands?" Ophilia looks up, "Is that it?"
"Ah, aye, indeede," The headman nods, then looks curiously to the others with H'aanit, "Ho ho, quite the companions thou havest now!"
"..." H'aanit nods lightly, as though unsure how to respond.
"Thou hath far gone from these woods now, haha," The headman laughs gently, "Tis doen thee well. For too long without Z'aanta, thou hath merely comest to me for work daily."
"... I hopeth the … hunt for Lord Ciaran hath enden well," H'aanit sighs.
"Ah, thou needst not worryen on that. Lord Ciaran is a reasonable man. He hath highly of thou spoken passing by."
Tressa and Alfyn stare a bit at the exchange between H'aanit and the headman.
"... So... Why do they talk like that?" Tressa blurts out.
…
As the stew bubbles away, H'aanit relays the news that her destination has now shifted to the Cliftlands as well. Since they were all going to be mostly headed towards Quarrycrest, she decides that to be a fine destination to gather more information.
"Whatten of thee, though, Ophilia..." The huntress looks to the cleric as they sit around a map.
"O-oh, um..." Ophilia thinks a second, "I... I'd like to travel with you all, if that's alright... The Cliftlands would be on the way for me to the Riverlands anyway! After Quarrycrest, then I suppose I'll see about traveling south..."
"Say, paths change all the time! We might all head south, too!" Tressa rubs her chin.
"You're traveling to follow some dead guy's tracks," Therion mutters. Tressa overhears and punches him in the arm in retaliation. It doesn't bother him much.
"Following an adventurer's footsteps is an admirable pursuit, if I do say so myself...!" Cyrus declares, "And, it is indeed true that our destinations may change as fast as the wind does. After all, what I seek is something that has been lost for over a good many years now... who knows where it could be... Perhaps it does not even reside on the continent anymore!"
"What're you looking for exactly?" Tressa squints at the scholar.
"An ancient grimoire of sorts, said to contain scriptures and dark rituals," Cyrus folds his arms, "I had not lain eyes on the tome itself... which is why I absolutely must find it!"
"A book, hm..." Primrose looks to her nails in boredom.
"That sounds pretty cool!" Alfyn says obliviously, "I'm just looking for people to help! There's a lotta illness out in the world."
"That is admirable, Alfyn!" Cyrus exclaims.
"What're you traveling for?" Tressa pokes the thief now.
"None of your beeswax, kid."
Tressa pouts, "I'm eighteen, I'll have you know! You can't be that much older!"
"Yeah, Therion, you're only 22!" Alfyn unhelpfully exposes the thief.
…
Before even the first rays of morning are warm, H'aanit and Olberic are already outside, training at dawn. The wet dew hangs like glistening drops of glass from the trees and grass. The others slowly awaken in succession, with Primrose and Therion, then the heavier sleepers like Ophilia and Cyrus. After a quick meal of leftover stew with some oats, courtesy of Alfyn, the crew is ready to hit the road once more. There is not much ceremony as they leave, with only the headman and some hunters coming to see H'aanit and her new crew off.
"Off to the Cliftlands, then?" The headman nods, "Thou aren like a hound to every scent, hoho. Tis hard to say thou art Z'aanta's 'prentice in ernst."
"Aye, I haven not time to lose."
"There be a small caravan at the crossing these days, a new settlement in progress mayhap. Thou couldst find better transport mayhap to speed thine journey along with a good ass."
"Oh, a crossing?" Tressa's eyes light up with leaf signs, "I'll guarantee being able to score big if we go!"
"Calm yourself, haha," Primrose chuckles, "I've trekked through the Riverlands, Sunlands, and Highlands now, all on foot. It's not the worst thing in the world."
"Ehh, but you're a dancer, aren't you, Prim? You gotta take care of yer feet!" Alfyn exclaims like he just realized this.
"She can handle it," Therion waves a dismissive hand.
"We have quite the road ahead," Olberic nods, "But I will task myself to see these ladies safely to our destination."
"Hey, don't make it sound like I can't take care of myself!" Tressa protests.
…
The trip out of the Woodlands was relatively smooth. As they pass the crossing, they stopped briefly for a little excursion through the settlement. An ongoing effort to set up temporary housing and find settlers seems to be going well. Cyrus and Tressa listened avidly to an up-and-coming headman trying to sell deeds for new houses and shares for establishments in the making. Primrose and Therion end up dragging them away before they could even think of investing. There is unfortunately no transport available for sale due to all wagons being used to cart promising settlers and transport materials.
"That's too bad about horses..." Alfyn stretches quietly as they go to leave, "They had some nice lookin' herbs an' whatnot, but those prices? Whoo!"
"They really know how to sell their worth," Tressa sighs, "Though, honestly? That investment would totally have been worth something. New towns are in high demand, you know? Especially outside the Cliftlands, hehe!"
"So much for taking care of yourself if you buy into that stuff," Therion smirks.
"Hey! You don't know how the market works for futures!"
"Ah, look...!" Ophilia points out as they round a ridge along the rocky escarpment at the forest edge.
The travelers look out to see the arid lands of red stone and dry, rocky cliffs ahead. A thin river system runs, glistening in the sunlight, through the various crevices and cracks in the xeric stone. There are few sights of greenery save some bushes and dried trees. Vultures circle over certain areas... or maybe those are just birdians.
"Home sweet home for you, correct?" Cyrus looks to Therion. The thief ignores him.
"We aren close," H'aanit nods, "Mayhap no more than two days' time should we have crossed to Quarrycrest..."
"Looks about right," Tressa looks at the map, "Looks like there's some caves we can take advantage of! A shortcut through some... old mines!"
"Sounds a mite unsafe, I must say," Cyrus rubs his chin.
"Well, we're burning daylight, and time is money!" Tressa says with finality, "Besides, why would they mark it as a trail if it wasn't safe?"
"Not doing that," Therion grumbles, "You don't know what you're talking about, kid."
"Stop calling me a kid!"
"Aw, c'mon, Therion!" Alfyn chuckles, "Tress makes a good point! And besides, what's the worst that could happen?"
"The place collapses and we all die a bunch of buried mummies?" Therion shoots back.
…
Well, it turns out that Therion was not far off the mark. The mines did indeed partially collapse, but not so far as to seal them in. It merely closed the main pathway, meaning they have to make a detour to the exit. It would ultimately deposit them closer to the opening near Quarrycrest in the end, but that doesn't stop the thief from grumbling as they decide to set up camp in the caves for the night. It was dark by the time they reached the caves. It would take them another day to get through the system and make it to Quarrycrest, it seems.
Luckily, Ophilia's lanthorn burns with clear light that produces no smoke. Tressa also has some handy light stones that emit light and heat when clicked. Finding a small shaft in the rock overhead that heads out to the night sky, the travelers lay down on the stone floor, some with portable cots and others without. Among Tressa's many things are some pots and extra rations. Using some water from the nearby slacking stream, they have a decent meal of re-hydrated goods and dried meat. In the cracks that look out, they can see the star-studded night sky above.
Therion gnaws a bit angrily at some jerky. Alfyn chuckles nervously and gives the thief a pat on the back.
"Cheer up, Therion! Could be a lot worse!"
"Indeed! We are far from dying or stranded! Our trip will merely be a bit longer... but we had anticipated a two-days' time to travel anyway!" Cyrus says astutely.
"Yeah, what Cyrus said!" Tressa downs her water and gives a hearty sigh, "Alright, g'night, folks! The early merchant gets the deals!"
"... These caves seem to be possible habitats for monsters," Olberic says observantly, "I will stay up to keep watch."
"Aye, t'would be a wise choice," H'aanit rubs Linde's fur, "I willen as well."
"Hey, hey, since we're all staying up, why don't we get to know each other some more?" Alfyn looks around their lit circle, "We're traveling together and all so, oh, I'll start! Uhm, my full name's Alfyn Greengrass! I'm an apothecary from Clearbrook in the Riverlands! I'm lookin' t'help the sick and … uh, all over Orsterra! I like plants and bugs to make medicine!"
"...Way to get the ball rolling," Therion rolls his eye.
"Hm, I believe Alfyn has a point! This is much like the ice-breakers we have for colleagues at mixer parties!" Cyrus clears his throat, "I shall go next them. Ahem, my name is Cyrus Albright. I am a professor at the Atlasdam Academy, though I am currently on sabbatical. I seek an ancient, lost tome that must be returned posthaste to the academy shelves!"
Ophilia claps a little. Shyly, she looks around, "Uhm, I can go next if no one else will... ok? I'm, uh, Ophilia, Ophilia Clement. I am a cleric from the cathedral of Flamesgrace, though I suppose you all know that... Uhm, I have to deliver the lanthorn and complete the Kindling of the vicennia... I suppose that's it?"
"Yep, that was great!" Alfyn chuckles, "Ya don't gotta be so nervous! We're all friends here!"
He gives Therion a sound slap on the back. The thief coughs a bit and gives him a stink-eye. Primrose chuckles.
"I will go next then. My name is Primrose. I am a dancer from the Sunlands. I am mostly looking for some people that... I have unfinished business with," The dancer says airily. Alfyn and Therion know her true aims, but they know better than to out her for it. It's not exactly pleasant to say you want to find someone to murder, after all.
"Have any of you heard of the Obsidians?" Primrose's eyes flicker to the others around the light. Her question draws a few expressions of recognition.
"Why, yes... They tried to kill me!" Cyrus exclaims.
"Aye, they aren a dangerous sort," H'aanit nods.
"T-those are the ones you have business with?" Ophilia swallows, "That's..."
"We just have some things to settle," Primrose smiles.
"Hm. That is … alike to what I seek as well," Olberic clears his throat, "My name... is Berg. I hail from the Highlands, where I have lived my whole life. I … am a combat trainer. And, yes, I also seek someone with whom I have unfinished business. I currently seek leads on their location and status."
"Oho, the Highlands!" Cyrus rubs his chin in intrigue.
"Hey, hey, Tress, you up?" Alfyn calls to the lump in her own sleeping bag.
"Ugh... I am now," Tressa grumbles.
"What a kid," Therion teases with a sneer.
"Aw shaddap!" Tressa sits up and huffs, "You all should know this by now, but I'm Tressa Colzione, merchant extraordinaire! I'm from the Coastlands and a long line of strong merchant blood runs in these veins! I'm settin' out to be the best merchant of them all in Orsterra!"
"Oh, that sounds wonderful," Ophilia smiles and claps.
Tressa nods with a smug grin, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed!"
H'aanit looks with a soft smile at the girl as she plops back into her sleeping bag. Her green eyes look into the soft light emanating from the lanthorn and small pile of light stones, "... My name be'en H'aanit... Hailen I doe from the Darkwood of the Woodlands. I hunteth and serven by the bow. For what I seek... Mine master has not returned to our village for many moons now. His name be'en Z'aanta... and I am on his trail. He hath left in pursuit of a fearsome beast, knowne as Redeye."
"Redeye?" Cyrus rubs his chin, "I must say that name eludes my memory of Orsterra's bestiary."
"All right, Therion, your turn!" Alfyn looks expectantly to the thief.
"... I'm Therion," The thief says tersely. That's all he says.