Clipper ships are smaller and faster kinds of vessels, used more often for merchant business than for passengers. Olberic learns this the hard way as he goes downstairs to relieve himself only to learn of how narrow and squished the ship's pathways are. And there isn't actually a water closet. To his dismay, the sailors simply do their business over the side of the deck...
"And you get to wash your hands nice and clean when the water sprays up!" One of the deckhands gives him a thumbs up. Olberic is stoically shocked.
On the other side of the ship, Primrose averts Tressa's eyes while trying not to laugh herself.
Therese comically is holding Cyrus still near the ship's prow while he is pointing like an avid child at some passing seagulls. Therion lets out a loud snort when one of the birds lands a dookie on the scholar's face.
"This is much faster than the last ship, or so it feels...!" Ophilia marvels at the sea passing under them, "Who knew the winds would be so strong...!"
"Watchen thee," H'aanit stays close behind her, "Leaneth not so far."
"Mroowwww..." Linde doesn't seem to fancy the open deck and stays near the cabin. Some sailors complain of her blocking the passageway, but she growls at them.
"Linde doesn't like the water, haha..." Ophilia chuckles.
"Simeon, are you quite alright?" Primrose glances to the playwright sitting against some barrels, "You haven't seasickness, I hope?"
"Oh, erm... just these faster ones, they..." Simeon says, looking a little clammy, "They do make it just a smidge dizzying... although nothing to worry about, my dear flower!"
"You're looking a little green!" Tressa giggles, "Hey, where's Alf?"
She turns to see Alfyn joining the sailors on the other side of the ship doing their business. Prim isn't fast enough to divert her attentions this time.
"Pfft!" Tressa points and laughs, "What're they doing? That's all just gonna go off in the wind!"
The dancer sighs and gives an amused smile at the merchant's blunt remark.
"Hey Alf!" Tressa waves down the apothecary after hechar's done, "We got a seasick one for ya!"
"Uhh, lemme just wash my hands first!" Alfyn hollers over. He then waits for the sea spray. After a few minutes of no luck, he gives up and hurriedly generates a bit of ice in his hands to melt down and wet them.
"Olberic, how are you feeling?" Ophilia looks to the warrior standing stiffly by the cabin door near Linde after he relieved himself.
"I am fine," He sighs, arms folded.
"Haven thee thine moxie challenged by the sea?" H'aanit asks with a jesting smile.
"The sea has, in all honesty, never agreed with me so much to begin with. Water in general, or large bodies of it at least. Back in the army, we rarely had to deal with water save for the occasional trek across a river... and I often was at peril of slipping," Olberic sighs in admittance, "What happened in Goldshore is a sore reminder of those days."
"Well, at least you aren't afraid of going on a boat!" Ophilia says optimistically.
…
The ship docks in Atlasdam's port in mid-afternoon. They had made short work of the Coastland archipelago and some of the small, connective routes through the rocky rivers of the Highlands. At times, it really was a bumpy ride. Olberic had never thought of ships being able to take such routes in waters that could surely beach larger vessels.
"Land! Oh sweet terra, your embrace!" Simeon practically skips off the boat singing. Towards the middle of the trip, he really did get quite ill.
"Wow, Simeon's so poetic even after being seasick," Therese giggles.
"Well, it was quite a rougher ride than I am- WOAH-!" Cyrus' legs wobble and he tumbles off the boarding plank onto the pier, knocking Simeon over. Tressa points and laughs while Therese goes to try and help.
"Are you alright?" Primrose giggles as she goes to also help untangle the scholar and playwright.
"Oh, are you hurt?" Ophilia runs up to them, almost tripping herself.
"Wow, we're already back in Atlasdam!" Alfyn exclaims, "The place hasn't changed a bit!"
"We weren here nary a moon ago," H'aanit reminds him.
"Well, it sure felt like a long time ago!" Alfyn chuckles.
Therion rolls his eyes and glances around as they disembark the ship. He freezes as he spots something on the neighboring pier.
"Hmm... It seems we came a bit in time before night... we ought to be able to get some good rooms at this rate at the inn," Olberic says with some restrained relief as he steps onto the pier.
"Heck yeah!" Tressa makes a beeline first for the city, "I'll get the first jump on those in two ripples of the tide!"
"Oh, this will be a wonderful time to get in touch with the Academy..." Cyrus stands after getting helped up, "Classes should be winding down now and we simply must inform them of all that has transpired with Yvon and Lucia..."
"Hey, are you coming, Therion?" Alfyn waves to the thief as they all go to follow the enthusiastic merchant.
Therion lingers back before walking... and he passes them, taking a different turn entirely.
"Huh? Therion? The inn's thataway!" Alfyn calls out to him. He moves to follow the thief and grabs his shoulder, "Ther-"
"Don't touch me...!" Therion turns and whirls to shove Alfyn's hand away, "Tsk..."
"Uh- T-Therion?" Alfyn looks in surprise at the thief's scowl.
"... Just leave me alone, got it?" Therion scoffs irritably, "I got places to be."
"..." Primrose glances over at the two of them. She approaches just as Therion curtly storms off. The dancer goes to Alfyn, "What was his problem?"
"I-I dunno..." Alfyn says with a bemused expression, "He said he's got stuff to do and... to leave him alone..."
"... Well, that's a bit typical. Such a lone wolf... or so he projects," The dancer sighs, "Come on, Alfyn. He'll come when he's hungry."
Alfyn nods a bit and follows her advice. Linde, near H'aanit, suddenly turns and gives a soft growl. H'aanit glances back as well. On the piers, she sees the clipper they came on, and only a few other ships at this time. None of them are large galleons. One of the piers is occupied solely by a small band of people with some cargo nearby and no ship, as if they were waiting for something.
"..."
"H'aanit? What's wrong?" Ophilia asks as the huntress lags behind.
"... Tis nothing," H'aanit says briskly and moves to follow, "Comen, Linde."
The leopard gives a soft snarl and follows them to the inn.
…
Fuck, fucking shit...
The thief controls his breathing stubbornly, refusing to lose his cool. His steps are brisk and decisive. He moves with the intention of losing any people trying to tail him. It's best not to be seen right now, and least of all with anyone else...
His eyes were not lying to him, though he might have wished he was seeing things.
That group on the other pier... They looked less conspicuous, but they can't fool him. Their signs are apparent to him, as he never forgot. They were wearing the small lapel pieces, some on the collars of their jackets, others on the cuff of their sleeve. His perceptive eyes did not miss those details, however small. Some things never change. It was something he had learned to watch for if he didn't want a knife in his back.
That was them, wasn't it... Those guys were … Ciannos...
An elite gang, a ghost from his past. He can't be sure they actually even remember his face, really... but he preferred to be safe than sorry.
What are they doing here anyway? Business? They aren't native to this region, nor are they businessmen. And Atlasdam is far from a nest of other ne'er-do-wells to convene with.
He stops, pressing himself against the back of a building wall within one of the city's narrower streets. He calms down his breathing to gather his thoughts.
Well, whatever, he needs to do two things then: one, figure out what they're after; two, stay out of their sight.
As for the others... Therion had no intention of going up against these Ciannos. He's virtually pushed back into his most solitary survival mode. Additional people would just slow him down and make for distractions.
He had his own ways to go from the start. Maybe now is as good a time as ever to call it quits and cut his losses.
Why did he feel some annoying knot in his chest at the thought? He had his own goals. None of the others knew anything remotely close to what he needed.
He begins moving to avoid being stagnant, ducking under some clotheslines and vaulting over a low wall into a courtyard surrounded by the rear of housing. There's a pump here for the water. No one is washing clothes at this hour. He maintains a vigilant eye around.
What was it that barkeep in Stonegard mentioned? Places like Noblecourt... That's closer than Stillsnow. It's not a guaranteed shot, but you can also find fat cats there to steal from regardless. Maybe he'll try there instead of going north with the others.
No, he decided, he would definitely go there instead. He wouldn't go with the others. It's been too long he's been running around instead of going for the leads like he normally would. He doesn't think on why that may be. The answer he knows to be true nauseates him.
It's been this long. He'd built this armored wall around himself, replete with barbs. After all these years, it had never trembled as he gained the title of master thief. He sat shoulder to shoulder with fellow thieves and felt nothing but scorn when they paired up for heists that inevitably fail... because you can't trust a thief.
You can't trust anyone.
And yet, he found himself throwing his body in the way of a gigantic snake. He was fighting pirates and sailing off with this band of nutcases. He'd fought guards and come away without a killing in a damn manor. He risked his life to distract whatever the hell that giant Yvon thing was. What the hell.
And he still denies that answer he knows.
I'll go do it. I'll just cut it off now.
His feet almost don't obey him for a second as he turns now to go find the others at the inn. How annoying.
...
"So, what was up with Therion?" Tressa asks nonchalantly as she puts down her pack in the deluxe room they got at the Atlasdam inn. She was quite happy that the cost was able to be haggled down and did not take a huge chunk of her earnings from Goldshore.
"Oh, you know him. He's difficult," Primrose shrugs with a small jesting smile, "That's how he is."
"He looked troubled," Ophilia scratches her head, "I hope he's alright..."
"Well, I shall be off then!" Cyrus announces, "I simply must report to the school board... perhaps to the king himself! I shall be back posthaste!"
"Don't you of all of us have a house here?" Tressa squints at him, "Go back to your own place so we have some more space while we're in the city!"
"O-Oh, that reminds me!" Therese stands, "I must get home... I promise to repay you for all your expenses in having me along, Tressa!"
"Well, if you insist-"
"Nah, we were glad to help out!" Alfyn interjects, earning a glare from Tressa.
"Alf, you don't get a say!" The merchant says indignantly, "You don't pay for anything!"
"Well, I mean, you do, Tress!" Alfyn says obliviously.
Olberic chuckles at their lively group and he glances to Simeon looking out the room window, "Have you been in Atlasdam before, Simeon?"
"Hm?" Simeon turns to him, as if snapping out of his thoughts, "Oh, well, yes, but it was a long time ago... Back when I was still in the employ of Prim's house."
"Oh?" Olberic raises an eyebrow, "You were a … manservant of her house?"
"Ah, it's a … bit of a story," Simeon chuckles, "I suppose if Prim has not divulged of this to you... perhaps I should also stay my tongue."
"I see..." Olberic nods, "I can respect a man's secrets."
It's not exactly the most suspicious thing. Primrose claimed she and Simeon were old friends. If Simeon was a servant, then she was likely from a family of higher status... It is not unheard of for such children to develop friendships with the servants.
"Anyway, now that we got a bit settled, how about some dinner first, before you run off to who knows where, Cyrus?" Tressa looks at the scholar thinking up a storm of what to present to the king.
"Ah, I... Hum," Cyrus' belly suddenly growls, "I hadn't realized my hunger at all."
"Tis entirely to be believen," H'aanit nods with Linde.
"Professor, you need to watch your health! You can't just skip meals to read!" Ophilia scolds.
"Ah, I know!" Therese claps, "Why don't you all come to my house for dinner? It's not a small place, I assure you, so we can all fit comfortably!"
"Dinner at the house of the nobility for our first night in Atlasdam... Why, that is quite a welcome indeed!" Simeon smiles.
"Hmm, perhaps it is better that dear Therion be off on his own errand then," Primrose giggles, giving Alfyn an insider's look, "He's not very good in the houses of aristocrats."
"Eh?" Therese blinks obliviously.
"Ahahaha!" Alfyn laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "That's no good to leave Therion out, Prim!"
There is a sudden tromp of steps into their room and they all see Therion at the door to their room. Behind him, the receptionist meekly looks like he was trying to stop the thief and got bulldozed aside.
"Erm, s-sir, you, uh..." The receptionist looks past Therion to the party, "Is this a member of your party?"
"Therion! There you are!" Alfyn grins and walks up to the thief jovially.
The receptionist seems to take that as a yes and promptly leaves them alone, glad to be done with that crisis averted.
"Guess what? Therese invited us all to dinner at her place!" Alfyn gives the thief a grin, "Ain't that great? If yer done with what ya had to do we can go now-"
"I'm not going with you guys."
The thief said that curtly, brusquely. The apothecary blinks.
"Oh, ya still got something?" Alfyn asks obliviously.
"..." Olberic looks at the thief pointedly.
"No, I mean I'm done going with you all. I'm not following along any longer," Therion casts a steely glance across the room.
"Hm? Ah, you found your own lead to pursue?" Cyrus looks up.
"Eh, really?" Alfyn looks surprised. Primrose looks closely at the thief from a distance.
"Yeah. So, you all go to Stillsnow then. I have my own goal in Noblecourt," The thief scowls and turns, his bangle clinking, "That's all I gotta say."
"..."
The thief curtly walks out now, with a brisk step. Alfyn stares after him. He looks like he doesn't fully get what just happened.
"... Welp, that answers the dinner issue," Tressa claps, "That's one less to fight at the table with."
"Erm... That was a bit... sudden," Ophilia looks around, "Did anyone else get that feeling? Therion isn't usually one to speak up like that, right?"
"... Quite," Primrose seems pensive, "But he's also a stubborn one. And if his mind is made up, we would be fools to try and change it."
"Did something happen?" Alfyn wonders aloud.
"What makes you say that?" Simeon looks to the apothecary.
"I... I dunno, I just... Therion sounded off... kinda... scared, almost," The apothecary frowns, "Something's wrong."
"Alfyn, wait-"
Before Primrose can finish her sentence, the apothecary has started walking out of the inn.
"..." The dancer sighs heavily.
"... Should we go after them?" Olberic asks quietly.
"Let them work their own thing out," Tressa shrugs, "They both know their way around here, right?"
"... I thinken not," H'aanit sighs, arms folded over her chest. She glances to see Linde prowl towards the door as well, "Where goen thee, Linde?"
"Rowrl... Rrr..." The leopard casts a glance back to her before gesturing with its head outside.
"... Hmm..."
"H'aanit?" Ophilia looks to the huntress in surprise as the latter moves to exit with her feline partner, "You're going?"
"Linde hath something to … see'n on," The huntress nods, "We willen joinen thee in later night. Do starten without us."
So Therion, Alfyn, H'aanit, and Linde end up passing on the dinner invite. Tressa doesn't seem bothered at all.
"So, your place, right?" The merchant asks the student with a smile of slight eagerness.
"O-oh, yes! Shall we go then? Ah, Professor," Therese looks shyly to Cyrus, "I really am glad you'll finally be visiting my home...!"
"Why, the pleasure is all mine, Therese!"
…
Therion storms away from the inn in brisk, smooth steps. He didn't know if anyone followed. He didn't really care. He preferred they didn't. It would just needlessly complicate things.
Ducking behind a nearby city wall, he goes over his plans.
He would set off for Nobelcourt as soon as possible. That lies to the east. It's usually a path ridden by carriages or caravans. Maybe he could hitch a ride. If not, it's not like he couldn't walk.
For now, the sky is nearing nighttime, with the sunset visible over the waters beyond the wharf. By now, traveling would be discouraged due to the monsters prowling roads at night. The thief wasn't in the mood for that encounter either.
He sighs. He could go to an inn... or just eke out the way he usually might when he was feeling frugal. Decisions, decisions...
As if to answer his thoughts, his stomach suddenly growls. He hadn't really eaten before they landed, and he already said he was parting ways with them so he wouldn't be going to their little dinner get-together.
Then that means it's back to his old habits now. Time to hunt for dinner.
Atlasdam is lively even in the evening sometimes, particularly around exam time. Students would unwind after their tests, after the many hours and even days spent staying up studying. It was finally time to relax.
The thief glances to see some rowdy students frequenting the pubs around the streets. Many grumble loudly about their academic progress. Some of them look more decorated than others. The thief ducks into the nearest dive and mingles among the goers, listening and picking as he goes. If he picks up enough, maybe he will splurge a little on some housing.
Now, Therion is known as a master thief not for nothing. He can steal even from fellow thieves. That is one of the marks of a master.
He swipes something particularly heavy from someone after looking them over. The money bag has a red string tied around some foreign coin. It's from some guy and he has way too much money in one place... he doesn't look particularly well-off... odds are he stole this wallet.
Well, more good luck for me then.
With a hefty find, he exits the bar without much notice from the inebriated or partying. He idly inspects the fullest bag as he reaches a small, quiet, side street.
The coin is curious. It looks pretty old. It has a hole in it and isn't a leaf.
Well, whatever. Money is money.
Suddenly, from an angle aimed at his head, blades some flying. He moved just in the nick of time that they only snipped off bits of his hair. They embed into the ground by his feet.
"Tsk..." He growls and starts to run. The shot came from a higher ground... Best to get back to somewhere with more people. Whoever the attacker is will be a problem later.
Before he can reach a street of people ahead, the shadows to the side shift to flank him. It's an ambush. Damn.
He arcs nimbly over the reach of their blades, but the one attacking from above manages to graze his leg as he's midair. With a slight snarl, he twists and kicks both the shadows hard in the face, knocking them down.
"Augh!"
"Oogh!"
The thief lands between these two idiots groaning on the ground. Before he can congratulate himself, a third ground assailant charges from behind. Therion just barely turns his body enough to avoid the slash at his side. It clips his poncho. He narrows his eyes as the purple threads flutter in the air.
"You'll pay for that..." He growls and kicks that guy hard in the back, sending him colliding with the wall.
"Argh!"
Therion gives him a hard kick to the back again for good measure and the guy doesn't get back up. The thief wipes a hand across his face, feeling the sweat from that brief exchange of blows. He glances around to get his bearings and make sure there are no other enemies.
"Therion?"
"?"
He hears that familiar voice calling for him from a parallel street maybe. In that moment, he had forgotten that there was a fourth person. The one who threw knives at him in the first place.
In that moment where his focus was divided, a hand clamped over his mouth, and he felt a hard edge enter his back. Shit.
Blood, warm blood, his blood... it blossoms from his back, just by his waist.
"M-Mmph-" Therion moves to push away, pry off that hand on his face. The pain and blood loss impair his strength. There's a rough kick and he's sent sprawling onto the cobblestone, blood pooling from the open wound.
He coughs, tasting blood. Rather than risk getting up, he lies there and plays dead as the assailant goes and takes the stolen wallet with the weird coin from him. In the night's dim light, Therion glimpses only dark hair as the sign from his attacker. That sort of a move from behind though... that's not the move of a thief.
This person is an assassin.
The stranger gives a kick to Therion's ribs for good measure. The thief resists making any noise.
"Heh..." He hears the assassin smirk.
One of the men nearby groan, still alive. Therion just barely glimpses the flash of the knife as the assassin slits the throat of the other three. He now nears the thief.
But, before he can touch that white head of hair, there is the sound of someone calling again.
The assassin scales up the walls to the roofs and vanishes as fast as they had arrived, leaving Therion bleeding onto the stones with three other guys all dead.
He's bleeding a lot. Probably too much. Therion manages to take a breath before coughing out blood. That was a deep wound. Too deep.
He's bled too much. His fingers twitch, cold now in the night chill. He can't move.
"Ugh..."
There's the distant sound of night revelry still emanating from nearby streets as silence settles onto this alleyway. In the distance, he thinks he heard something growling. Was it from his own stomach? He didn't know anymore. All he knew was it was becoming tiresome to keep his eyes open when his eyelids felt so heavy.
"..."
"We ain't got fancy caskets waiting for us, partner," He remembers that crass old voice telling him.
"Street rats will just die like street rats. No one'll miss ya, brat," He remembers another, condescending voice spitting at him.
"One thing a thief has to reckon with... Dying alone," He remembers Marta's words one somber night.
He feels the blood choking him as his eyes begin to close. There is a dull echo of something like moving steps and then a voice calling to him. His chilled, numb body can barely feel the touch of someone shaking him gently.
"Therion... Therion...!" He hears that voice again.
His eyes still open a crack, Therion barely registers that face of the silly apothecary. He looks so damn blurry.
Oh, wow, he came running after him, huh. Therion might have figured he would. This big idiot...
"Therion, stay with me..." Alfyn says, clearly flustered and yet also determined as he turns the motionless thief over to get a better look at the wound. He tunes out the massive amount of blood staining his hands and the thief's clothes in addition to the stones under their feet. The light visual here isn't the best, but his tactile senses can feel well enough.
"Who haven doneth this..." H'aanit gives a scowl as she surveys the area. She sees the three other men nearby with slit throats... but they don't seem to have a bloodied weapon on them that could have done the job. And who had done them in? Therion? No... something told her the thief wasn't the sort to go the gruesome route. Linde growls and looks up towards the roofs.
"Can't focus on that now, Therion's lost a lotta blood...!" Alfyn says with controlled urgency, "H'aanit, I need ya to help me tourniquet this, alright?"
"Whatever thou needen, I shall attempteth to aid..." The huntress looks a bit torn, needing to let potential quarry escape. But she can see the thief is looking quite deathly and does not argue. Linde looks on worriedly, licking Therion's cold fingers.
"Therion? Therion? Stay awake..." Alfyn checks on Therion's eyes. He feels for breathing by the lips and then presses the side of his face to Therion's exposed and bloody back, "... Blood in the lungs..."
"Alfyn, tis bleedeth too much..." H'aanit says as she presses onto the wound with some herbs as Alfyn instructed.
"Just hold it! We gotta seal one end at least... and... I gotta clear his airways..." The stubborn apothecary wouldn't let the thief die like this, not on his watch. While H'aanit maintains a hold on the wound, he squeezes Therion's nose shut and clamps his lips firmly over the thief's. He can taste that iron. He sucks out any blood filling the mouth and tries to breathe air into the thief. To his relief, Therion's chest shows movement as the air goes in. He can hear the airways gargle a bit from the blood though.
The huntress looks to Linde, "Fetchen Ophilia. Hasten thee."
The big cat perks up and nods, dashing off quickly for the inn. H'aanit prays that the cleric would make it in time.
It wasn't like she liked the thief, but he certainly didn't deserve to die in some cold small street like this.
To H'aanit's surprise, whatever leaf it is that Alfyn has her using seems to stick well like an adhesive to the wound as it soaks in the blood. It doesn't staunch the wound entirely, but it would do as an ad hoc measure.
To Alfyn's relief, Therion starts breathing a bit better on his own. The apothecary then uses his chilling magic to further seal the leaves to the wound before doing the same to the other side. It is a deep wound, and the weapon that pierced Therion protruded out from the front of his stomach before being removed. The wound is quite wide, meaning a large weapon was used. The top edge is just below Therion's ribs.
"... Willen it holden?" H'aanit gives a soft sigh.
"I-I hope! I mean, we gotta move him..." Alfyn says, sweat dripping down his face.
The time waiting for Linde to return is agonizing. Alfyn goes to check on the other three men in the alleyway and confirms they are dead. H'aanit sees he looks frustrated.
"H'aanit! Alfyn!"
The two are immensely relieved as Linde brings Ophilia over into the small side street. Not only did the cleric come, but Olberic did as well. The warrior and cleric are aghast at the bloody scene at Ophilia illuminates their surroundings.
"Oh Gods..."
"What happened?" Olberic clasps the hilt of his sword, looking about alertly.
"The attacker hath long abscondeth," H'aanit sighs, "We needen now to healeth Therion."
"L-Lia, you can do it, right?" Alfyn looks to Ophilia, smearing some blood across his face.
"I-I will try! Oh, Sacred Flame..." Ophilia kneels down, not minding the blood staining her dress. The ember in her lanthorn flickers a little as she says the healing incantation over the thief's wound.
A few agonizing seconds pass and the glow from Ophilia's magic fades. The cleric seems a little sweaty now.
"I... I think I did what I can..."
Alfyn feels the wound and is relieved to feel that it did sort of close up a bit. His touch can still feel some tenderness underneath, which would need much more time to heal internally. For now, this would have to do.
"Let's get Therion back... Careful with the wound..."
"Aye..." Olberic gently hefts Therion up.
As they go to leave, Linde looks back with a perplexed and unsatisfied expression at the small street. She can smell the glut of Therion's blood here. Her nose is not as good as Hägen's, but she can catch the slightest whiff of the scent being away from here... somewhere in the city still.
…
"Well, that worked like a charm, dinn'it?" The assassin jauntily tosses his bait wallet in his hand as he sits against the nearby chimney of a house he's on the roof of. His short black hair blows gently in the night breeze and he looks up to the moon.
"Once a tea leaf, always a tea leaf... can't get rid of those habits."
His hair is tied back loosely by a headband with a feather sticking out from the side. He smiles as he makes his getaway.
"Well... whatever. Therion won't be an issue anymore, Darius," He grins to himself, "As they say... a thief's downfall is his pride."
…
In the nobility quarter, the party had arrived at Therese's home. A lot of angry and happy comments were exchanged between Therese and her worried parents. It was rather awkward for the guests. Dinner had not even started when a ruckus could be heard from the quarter gate. A large feline had hopped the bars and came to the front of their house, pawing at the door. Ophilia ran out to see Linde breathless and pursued by guards.
"What happened? Where's H'aanit?" Ophilia asked worriedly.
"Oi, get that big cat outta the noble's yard!" The guards shouted.
"What is going on?" Therese and Olberic stepped out.
"Linde came and she-"
The big cat bit onto Ophilia's dress and moved to pull her.
"It's attacking the girl!" The presumptuous guards shouted. They move forward with their swords at the ready.
"Stay yourselves!" Therese said shrilly, much to their surprise, "The feline is a welcome guest here. Back to your posts!"
"What is all that racket?" Therese's father poked his face out, "My dear, Bertram's charcuterie board is coming out!"
"In a second, father...!" Therese sighed and then looked to the guards with the expression of refined annoyance, "Well? On with you!"
The guards stared a few more seconds longer before leaving Linde alone.
"... something's wrong. H'aanit sent Linde here to fetch me," Ophilia said softly, "I must go!"
"I will accompany you," Olberic nodded, "There may be danger afoot."
He looked to Therese, "Forgive this intrusion despite your welcome."
"No, no... You must go where you need be," Therese smiled understandingly.
The cleric nodded before leaving with the warrior into the night. Therese watched to make sure they didn't run into more trouble with guards before they leave the gates. Once they left, she returned inside.
"What was that about?" Tressa looks up from the cheese she's appraising by the charcuterie board.
"Oh, Ophilia and Sir Olberic needed to step out a little," Therese smiles, "They said not to wait for them."
"Hmm..." Primrose shrugs, aloof.
"Your collection is certainly fantastic!" Simeon marvels at the shelves displaying books and items of the arts, "You even have the first edition of several classics!"
"Well, we are a very proud family of our involvement in the cultures of the world," Therese's father pulls his clipped beard with pride, "Our daughter is raised accordingly."
"So, you are the professor Cyrus we had heard about," Therese's mother looks Cyrus up and down, "Charmed."
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, madam," Cyrus nods, "Therese is one of my most eager learners. Tis hard to find such avid young minds these days..."
"Oh, you are too kind..."
Therese blushes a little as she overhears them talking about her. To be honest, she would like to speak to Cyrus herself, but her mother is far too nosy...
"He isn't tripping over his stupid tongue yet, thank Alephan," Tressa sighs as she gets a refill of her glass of juice.
"Ufufufu, did your mother steal him from you?" Primrose teases Therese a little. The student gets redder and shakes her head.
"T-the professor... should meet my parents! This is his first time here..."
"Do professors normally go to the houses of students?" The merchant asks curiously.
"Well, I mean, in this case, it's... also special since I am part of the royal family tree," Therese pout.
"I'm more grateful that your parents haven't asked too many questions about what passed during your absence," Primrose sips her wine daintily, "That would be far too many questions."
While Therese's parents were both livid that Therese had taken a trip around the continent without them knowing, they were also overjoyed with relief she had returned safe and sound. That took about a good hour of family crying and hashing out to finally resolve.
"I truly must thank you again, professor, for escorting my Therese home. I'm sure you had to take a great detour from your own endeavors to do so," Therese's mother chuckles airily.
"Nay, nay, t'was my pleasure. I would never have harm befall Therese."
"Gee, you sure are red," Tressa notes of Therese's face, "Didn't you drink even less than me? And I didn't even have any wine..."
"The table is set for the house and the guests!" Bertram announces, "Please do... Hm? Has our little party grown a bit smaller?"
"O-oh, some people had to step out for a second!" Therese stands suddenly, "L-let's eat, shall we?"
...
Alfyn, H'aanit, Olberic, Linde, and Ophilia hauling back a bloody and half-dead Therion to the inn was a surprise to the innkeeper, as the rest of the party is having dinner at Therese's place. The listless thief is lain on the nearest bed while Alfyn hurriedly prepares the wrappings and further cleans him down. His bloodied clothes are removed to be washed. Therion is out cold by now.
"... There were other men in that alleyway," Olberic speaks up. He and H'aanit stay out of the way of the two healers doing their work. They stand outside, in the inn hallway. Linde sits inside the room, against the wall and out of the way.
"... Aye. They weren at the wharf when we hath arrived," H'aanit sighs.
"Oh? You had noticed them?" The warrior glances to her.
The huntress is pensive, "They hath a scent that doth provoketh Linde. Twas a sense, merely."
"Hmm... Did you perhaps see the one that did this then? There must have been a fourth."
"I doen not rememberen a face. But weren Linde to smelleth the scent again, she willen be'en sure."
"... I wonder if those three men were killed by our missing suspect..." Olberic rubs his chin pensively.
"Or some other, mayhap," H'aanit sighs and folds her arms.
"It may be paranoid of me to say..." Olberic scratches his chin, "But the attack on Therion seeemed very... coordinated, I would say."
"Thou meaneth they hath him trailed and hunted, yes?"
Olberic nods, "Therion is not one to be seen nor followed merely by chance. These people may have been aiming for him since we landed. He may have known it... and so tried to cut ties with us so as not to involve us. Though, for what reason he may be a target... I cannot fathom it."
"Nor I," H'aanit nods, "I doen thinke thou hath point regarding his earlier announcement... As for the cause, it doth reminden me of a sellsword that hath aimed for Cyrus' life whilst we weren aboard a ship."
"Perhaps," Olberic sighs, "He may have his own aims we know naught about. We will have to ask him. It would be in his best interests to be frank, lest they come for him again when they realize he is not dead. We can help him."
"... I wonderen if he doth wanten our help," The huntress says aloud.
Olberic doesn't answer. He had known from the few times he spoke with the thief that there was something Therion always held back. He would never say the entire bit and always keep some only to himself.
It reminded him of a loner in the army... In that kind of a battlefield, formulating your own plans to fool your own allies as well as the enemy never works as well as one thinks. He was killed in the way of a friendly arrow due to trying to take the fortress flag by himself.
"Linde hath worried about him," The huntress speaks up, "Twas why she wanten to goen after him."
"Your partner does seem fond of him," Olberic smiles slightly.
H'aanit gives an amused scoff.
"Ah... there is a washtub out back if you need...!" The innkeeper finally speaks up meekly, pointing at H'aanit's bloody hands, "Please... do use it..."
The huntress looks down and remembers she was touching the bloody wound. She walks out to clean her hands now.
…
After the nice dinner at Therese's home, Tressa, Primrose, and Simeon are about ready to retire to the inn. Cyrus is another story.
"Wait, professor?" Therese looks in surprise at Cyrus, "Surely you aren't going now to the Academy! It's far after evening hours!"
"Oh, dear, don't you know professors work around the clock outside the classroom?" Therese's father gives a jolly chuckle and looks to Cyrus, "I'll say, I was a bit skeptical about what teachers are in the Academy these days... but with hardworking folk like you, my Therese is in good hands indeed, har har!"
"Oh, your words are too high a praise," Cyrus chuckles as he adjusts his cravat while putting on his coat, "But yes, we professors often do reside in the campus grounds for much longer periods of time, whether to prepare lesson plans or such! I still have the permission afforded my office, I believe! And this simply cannot wait!"
"Geez, he's got school in the brain," Tressa sighs.
"I will be alright, worry not, my pupil!" Cyrus declares, "Do not expect me back, for I will likely retire to my study."
"You won't end up kidnapped again, will you?" Primrose asks, only half joking. The scholar could get into loads of trouble in all seriousness.
"Do not fret, for this is Atlasdam. I have spent my life living here," Cyrus nods like that's a complete assurance, "My faculty dormitory key should still work."
"Ahaha... well, we will hope for your safe return then, scholar Cyrus," Simeon laughs a little behind his hand, "Shall we meet in the light of morrow then?"
"Yes! Please do come by the Academy tomorrow, my friends! I'm sure you will be most impressed with the libraries we have!"
"That's not really what we came for..." Tressa grumbles, "I feel like you got sidetracked."
Nonetheless, neither Tressa nor Primrose really wanted to talk Cyrus out of whatever he wanted to do. So, the scholar walks off to the Academy while the others return to the inn. Therese of course sees him off. The student wanted to go accompany him, maybe, but she had scared her parents a good deal as it was. So, she just tells Cyrus to be careful.
The scholar arrives to the gates of the Academy. The gates are open but few students trickle through at this hour. The guards stand about, with one of them looking about ready to fall asleep. If Cyrus remembered correctly, that was the same guard whose negligence allowed Russel to conduct his book thievery... Perhaps Cyrus could bring it up with the guard committee.
"Good evening, gentlemen," Cyrus says as he passes. The guards jump a little at his voice and stare as he walks through.
He lights the lamp in his study and allows the warm glow to fill this place.
In his familiar office, Cyrus takes a second to absorb the fact that he is indeed back in Atlasdam, in his de facto home, after a rather crazy series of events. It's amazing to think he's alive here after a very eventful few days. There were quite a few things he never thought would happen that all just snowballed onto him in a matter of days. Having an assassin attempt on his life, meeting a blood mage, getting kidnapped, fighting Yvon... Actually, some of those memories from while he was overtaken by the crystal are still fuzzy.
He sighs and looks glad that nothing seems out of place since he had left... save for some papers and mail dumped in his inbox.
"Huh..." He glances over some of the news and skims over what has happened since he left.
News in academia seems quiet enough. The King declared an increase to funding for some of the arcanist studies. A new restoration project would be conducted on the underground area unearthed following Russell's thievery...
He freezes seeing one article in the paper. It's dated just the day after he'd left.
"Dormitory cleaning lady found dead"
Cyrus purses his lips slightly as he reads on and confirms it is indeed an article on Gina's death. He had seen her just before leaving and she had died within the span of a day after? It may be wishful thinking to believe she did not die in proximity to him. She was a healthful spirit. Sudden death... should not be a likely possibility. And, as if to prove him right, he reads where the coroner confirms the cause to have been poison. As such, it was declared a murder. The tool of the crime is suspected to be an otherwise innocuous box of chocolates...
Chocolates...
Cyrus sits down and leans forward on his desk for a second.
He remembered... she told him a secret admirer dropped off a box of chocolates for him. He had given them to her... And she died from them.
There is no room for doubt any further. Those poisoned chocolates were meant for him. And poor Gina took the bait instead.
I'm not a man to gamble... but I would be a fool to deny that Yvon's hand runs through this as well.
The former headmaster had certainly spared little expense to try and make sure he was dead. He had killed Gina now and hurt Therese... not to mention sacrificed his own students to become slaves to the bloodstones!
And that's not counting how he had killed headmaster Franklin...
His crimes must not go unpunished, even if he is dead. Lucia remains at large, and she could be just as dangerous, if not more.
"..." Cyrus rests his chin on his hands for a few moments as he observes the clock nearby. He won't be able to get an audience with anyone important at this hour, unfortunately, and he really needed to get ahold of someone like the king. So, he would need to wait a bit.
He decides to pass the time by constructing his speech as well as a timeline of Yvon's dealings to present. Like a man possessed, his quill flies across the paper. He would present everything to the Academy board and bring it all to light...
...
"What in the name of Chaos happened to you guys?"
Tressa, Primrose, and Simeon arrive back to the inn to see the bloody stains and overall show of a frazzled evening in their main room. Therion is resting on a bed, his bandaged body exposed. Bloody wrappings and some buckets for washing the stained towels stand nearby. Alfyn and Ophilia both have blood on their clothes. Olberic and H'aanit look like they've cleaned up a bit in comparison. Linde gives a small flick of her tail as an answer.
"What happened to Therion?" Tressa balks a bit at the thief. She's about to make some snarky comment when she sees the blood and how it wasn't something of a joke.
"He got stabbed pretty bad..." Alfyn sighs, sitting down on the floor by the bed, "Thank Dohter... I think he's outta the woods for now..."
"Thank the Flame..." Ophilia sighs. She leans back against the wall and slowly slides to the floor. She felt tired indeed. She's not even sure if she ended up using her magic too much in all the excitement.
"Aren thou alright?" H'aanit strides to the cleric's side, "Thou hath much magic used."
"Wait, wait, wait, stabbed? Who? Why?" Tressa folds her arms, "What the heck happened?"
"A mere mugging, perhaps?" Simeon posits.
"I don't think a normal mugger could do that," Primrose sighs, "And Therion is someone far from helpless."
"We unfortunately do not know who the culprit was. For all we know, they may have left Atlasdam already. The scene had three other bodies..." Olberic says, looking troubled.
"Gods, actual dead- You guys didn't get seen by anyone, right? Not like that?" Tressa exclaims as she points at the bloody state of some of them, "You'll get thrown in the gaols if they suspect anything!"
"How disturbing..." Primrose simply sighs through her nose and looks over Therion, "It is a very strange night after all indeed."
"Aye... I suspect Therion was being targeted. I cannot be sure who those three men were, nor do I think it wise we return to scene tonight either..." Olberic pinches the space between his eyes, "Alfyn, Ophilia, please do retire for the night. You both have been working tirelessly since we found Therion. You need rest yourselves."
"Right, I can watch Therion," Primrose says gently as she rubs Alfyn's shoulder.
"But..."
"You said it yourself. He's alright for now, right?" The dancer smiles sweetly, "If anything happens, I will wake you up."
"... I'll sleep here," Alfyn gives a fatigued smile to her, "I can't just leave Therion like this, ya know?"
"Such a vigilant doctor indeed," Simeon nods.
"Comen, Ophilia," H'aanit suddenly scoops the cleric in her arms, "Thou musten washeth off the blood and resten."
"O-oh, H'aanit, I can walk...!" Ophilia tries to protest as H'aanit carries her out.
"... Sheesh... I really hope none of us get incriminated..." Tressa says worriedly as she takes out her bed roll.
"It should be alright. We moved swiftly through some side streets..." Olberic sighs, "Though, tomorrow, I suspect there will be some commotion about this..."
"Unsettling, indeed," Simeon sighs, "A mystery at our hands, hmm...?
"Hm? Where is the professor?" Olberic notices the missing person now.
"Oh, he went to his office. And Therese is back with her folks," Tressa shrugs, "Cyrus said to see him tomorrow at the Academy... I guess we may as well, even if Therion is like this. Not like all of us have to go."
"The professor is likely eager to report what happened regarding his superiors," Primrose sighs, "I will say that I am somewhat curious about this Academy."
"Indeed! An establishment of such repute and history in Orsterra is worth a visit even for the sights!" Simeon says with a jolly grin, "I do intend to take the professor on his invitation tomorrow."
"I guess I may as well," Tressa flutters her lips a little as she goes to lie down, "Since he's my magic teacher and whatnot."
"With Therion in this state, we will not be able to move on so soon," Olberic nods.
"Well, we have a rather eventful day ahead of us then. We should rest... oh, Alfyn's already asleep," Primrose giggles lightly, "Silly boy... he was more tired than he knew."