"Oof..."
Alaic sits up with a grunt and an aching pain in his head to a room full of unfamiliar faces. He recognizes one to be the huntress that threw him down, and her leopard. Seeing them, he immediately tenses.
"Heaheaheaheahea!" Susanna laughs, seeing him awaken with such a reaction, "Alaic's a bit wary of beasts, you see. Much like when he was a boy."
"Pfft... So much for being such a tough bodyguard," Tressa snickers. Alaic shoots her a stoney look and she hides behind Therion.
"These are guests, Alaic," Susanna gestures at the party, "H'aanit here is looking to enter the Whitewood. I trust you to show her the way."
Alaic looks to the huntress, who merely nods to him. He scratches his ear awkwardly and looks at Susanna with apprehension.
"She's a grown, strong woman," Susanna hobbles over to H'aanit. To the huntress' surprise, the old woman places a firm hand on her chest.
"U-uh?" H'aanit is taken aback by the sudden contact and looks to Susanna.
"... Mhm, my old eyes do not deceive me. The prentice of that Z'aanta has become a fine, brave huntress," Susanna says with a hint of fondness.
"..." A small breath escapes H'aanit's lips as she seems unsure of how to exactly respond. She briefly locks eyes with Primrose and the dancer makes a "roll with it" gesture, "Your... praise is high."
"Well, like I said, Z'aanta is much like a son to me. So, you are like my grandchild," The old woman removes her hand now and cackles, "And what kind of grandparent doesn't want to help their grandchild?"
A faint blush forms on H'aanit's face.
"Oh, this is such a heartwarming scene..." Simeon muses.
Alaic's expression doesn't change much. He merely sighs and stands, stretching a little and getting the crick out of his neck. Silent as ever, he gestures with his head outside at H'aanit before walking out the door himself.
"Wow, he really doesn't talk much," Tressa squints as the man leaves, "What's his deal, anyway? Cait got his tongue?"
"He's a little shy, heahea..." Susanna looks to H'aanit, "Do take care. The Whitewood is a place historically populated by savage beasts more powerful than the next. They say the closure of trees was a sort of prison planted by the gods to prevent them from escaping."
"I willen," H'aanit nods. She looks to her companions, "Doen not waiteth for me."
"Wait, what?" Ophilia stands, "You're not going alone out there."
"Yeah!" Alfyn pipes up as well, "You heard Susanna, it's dangerous!"
"Thou all haven thine own paths here, no?" H'aanit looks to the others, "I willen not haven thou come into peril on mine account."
"Well, we have already gone into the dens of the like of a forest god with you," Olberic looks to the huntress squarely, "If such perils await, it is unwise for you to go alone, no? I agree with Ophilia."
H'aanit's green eyes avert briefly and she seems hesitant. Her fist clenches hard at her side. Meanwhile, Alaic waits outside, wondering why the eager huntress isn't right behind him.
"...There is a logic to H'aanit's words," Susanna sighs, nodding, "Hunters fare better on such foraging and hunting things than normal people. You all may have coats, but I doubt trekking the snows is any of your specialties. And the Whitewood isn't a place you want to dally with a large group."
Olberic observes H'aanit quietly and then unfolds his arms, looking now to Ophilia, "I do not think she will be easily 'suaded to let us join her."
"...So, we're just going to wait for you?" Ophilia frowns.
"... I willen tryeth to return posthaste," H'aanit gives a soft smile, "Comen, Linde."
"If you're not back by dinnertime, we're going after you!" Alfyn says with a determined huff.
The huntress merely nods and leaves with her partner. The rest of the party looks at each other a little awkwardly.
"H'aanit is a very driven person," Olberic sighs, "I... have a feeling she is worried about us going with her, considering what happened in Stonegard."
"Hm?" Susanna glances up at the warrior, "Ran into a rough spot, did she? A forest god, you said?"
"Admittedly, half of the mess was mine..." Cyrus sighs, holding his head as if he has a headache from the memory, "We had run afoul of difficult foes and... nearly lost our lives in the process."
"At this point, you're making a common occurrence..." Therion grumbles under his breath.
"... I'll give her an hour," Ophilia huffs, folding her arms, "And then I'm going, too!"
"Feisty, isn't she," Susanna shakes her head.
"... I have a question for you, seer," Primrose steps forward now.
"Oh? The pretty one that's been holding her tongue?" Susanna chuckles softly, "It's rather unusual for a Sunlander to come all the way up here... even rarer that they aren't yelping from the cold."
"You flatter me," Prim smiles, "I come asking about the Obsidians."
Susanna's face visibly twitches. She no longer looks so playful.
"Oh, those guys we saw back in Quarrycrest? The hired hands Morlock was using?" Tressa scratches her head.
"Ah, yes, the company of the assassin from the ship," Cyrus nods along.
"Mm, they're bad news as far as I hear..." Ophilia agrees.
"That lot is a stain on Orsterra," Susanna sighs, "They're almost unavoidable these days, with their reach up and down the continent. The whorehouses, the assassins... many of them are run by the Obsidians, even if it isn't known."
"You sound like you have personal experience with that," Simeon looks to the seer.
"Alaic used to be an Obsidian," Susanna says bluntly.
"He was?" Primrose asks in surprise.
"He's been out of that line of work for a while. He was an assassin of theirs. His target was none other than me," The old woman shifts her grasp on her cane.
"Woah, wait, WHAT?" Tressa's jaw drops, "Time out, you were on a hit list?"
"Golly!" Alfyn whistles.
"That's... and yet, now..." Ophilia seems to be connecting some dots.
"Now, Alaic is the one guarding your home? A most interesting change of events..." Cyrus nods.
"It's a strange thing, fate, if we call it that," Susanna shrugs, "Alaic's attempt was actually thwarted by none other than Z'aanta. The foolish boy then tried to take his own life, as that is the assassin's way of sealed lips. But I was able to neutralize the poison before it sent him to the afterworld."
"Impressive..." Simeon says in quiet seeming awe.
"You really must be a great apothecary in seer skin!" Alfyn exclaims.
"Hmf! You won't see this old woman go running around offering cures!" Susanna huffs, "Anyways, the Obsidians have a den of operations here that may interest you, dancer. Their Obsidian Parlor is a place of debauchery outside the limits of Stillsnow. Yet, it draws clients from all over the continent."
"Clients..." Cyrus recalls the innkeepers comments about the popularity of the town, "So... this Parlor is what attracts such individuals to Stillsnow... Whatever is there, may I ask? You mentioned debauchery..."
Susanna looks at Primrose, as if expecting her to answer. The dancer gets her drift and sighs.
"... It's a prostitution den," She says softly in admittance.
"Prostitution..." Ophilia frowns.
"... You know, prostitution is legal in many cities," Tressa says with surprising maturity, "It's a living for some people."
"Well, this isn't the neat business kind of that thing," Susanna looks to Tressa with amusement, "The bodies being sold there have no one else to turn to. They are desperate... and often abused as a result by very powerful patrons. There is a reason that Parlor lies in hiding among the trees... it is a great shame of the Frostlands, and the law cannot touch them."
"Hmm..." Tressa frowns only a little, her gears grinding.
"So, this place is harboring such criminals..." Primrose gazes out the window towards the front entry part of town. Near Susanna's house, some children are having a snowball fight. The dancer's eyes harden.
"The local governance is more or less in with them... The one they call Rufus... Also known as the Left Wing of the Crow, is a rather influential figure with many friends... even in the church. The Parlor is run under his ownership," Susanna blinks slowly, looking with distaste at the topic, "From the looks of it, you have rather serious business with them... and him, dancer."
"... You could say that," Primrose sighs quietly, "That answered all my questions."
"Wait, the church?" Ophilia perks up, remembering the fearful nun she saw last night at the local chapel, "Do you know something about the local clergy? I ... had heard unsavory things about what was going on... that the landowner and others were looking to shut it down..."
"Aye, that is true. After all, the landowners of that chapel ground are none other than the Obsidians. They seized that land years ago," Susanna sighs, "They have been struggling for a while now without tithes. One of their leaders spoke out against the presence of the Parlor... and they are no longer here among us. They've made themselves opposition against the Obsidians... so the Obsidians are looking to extinguish them. And, what with the Parlor clientele in the town that bring with them influence, the headman will not speak out against this."
Ophilia frowns, "I don't understand... what do these Obsidians want? It sounds like they just produce grief for others to no end!"
"Who knows, there are only so many answers," Susanna leans back and exhales through her nose, "Power, wealth, fame... those sort of things spawn many dark desires. The name Obsidian is a bit fitting then, don't you think?"
Primrose considers her options. If that Alaic fellow was a former Obsidian, he might be a valuable informant on their dealings here. But he's currently out with the huntress to who-knows-where... and the dancer's blade is itching for blood.
"You can wait here for Alaic to return... Though, that boy is very tight-lipped to just about anybody," Susanna says as if reading the dancer's mind, "He's also been out of their loop since he tried to kill me, so that's already over five odd years..."
"...Thank you," Primrose says briskly and leaves.
"Golly, that's kinda ext- huh? Prim?" Alfyn sees the dancer exit the house, "Hey, wait!"
Therion sighs as Alfyn goes to follow. The thief follows as well, followed by the playwright.
"I suppose she has found her next destination..." Olberic sighs.
"I'm going, too!" Tressa hauls her stuff out after them, leaving Cyrus, Olberic, and Ophilia with Susanna.
"And what are you lot loitering around for?" Susanna scoffs, "Have any more questions for this old lady?"
"... I think that, since Alaic is gone, it would be apt that I can provide you with some protection," Olberic nods to Susanna, "As a kind of repayment, if you will, for your aid thus far."
"I am utterly fascinated by your collection," Cyrus says, poring over the pages, "Such limited editions would be under lock and key in the Academy!"
"They're nothing much, honestly," Susanna waves a dismissive hand at the books, "I keep them out of nostalgia more than anything else."
"Uhm, Susanna," Ophilia speaks up, "Might I ask... Why the Obsidians were after you in the first place?"
"Hmm, let's just say they aren't a fan of insightful people," Susanna chuckles, "Sees through their bull too easily, you know? That's the short of it, anyway. I'm sure they also wanted me gone because of something or other that I knew... whatever it is."
"Ah..." Ophilia nods thoughtfully, "That's awful."
"You'll see many such things in the world, especially these days," Susanna then points to the lanthorn at Ophilia's side, "You will be going about with that for your Kindling, no?"
"O-oh, you... you knew," Ophilia reflexively grasps the metal handle of the lanthorn.
"Heaheaheaheah, I've seen a few Kindlings in the passing. They weren't always as young as you. They also rarely come up so far north! The three kindling fires aren't up here," Susanna now looks curiously at the cleric, "So, you are here for another reason, aren't you?"
"Oh, there had been myriad hazardous complications on the road," Cyrus offers, "What with a bridge south to Saintsbridge collapsing and-"
"It wouldn't happen to do with H'aanit, would it?" Susanna asks astutely, cutting Cyrus off.
"Uh- W-well..." Ophilia fidgets. This old lady's intuition and insight is no joke.
"I see how you look at her," Susanna chuckles softly to herself, "You followed her all the way up here? That's quite a detour."
"... I just wanted to... travel more with everyone," Ophilia looks to the side, blushing.
Olberic glances away, sort of out of respect. This isn't a sort of topic he need pay ear to. Cyrus looks obliviously lost in the conversation and just looks on in the book he has his nose in.
"That's a fine excuse for now. But what about afterward, when this is all done and over with for you?" Susanna looks at Ophilia with amusement, "Will you just say goodbye and return to where you were before?"
Ophilia doesn't meet her gaze. She didn't want to think about this woman's questions. It was something she had pushed to the side in the course of their travels. Instead, she stands abruptly.
"I-I'm going to the local chapel... Please do come fetch me if H'aanit comes back..." She says hurriedly and leaves.
"... I suppose we should also fetch her if H'aanit does not return," Olberic sighs a little.
"Hm? Well, I'm sure H'aanit is perfectly capable," Cyrus muses.
Susanna just looks tentatively towards the flames of her hearth.
...
Primrose walks quickly for the center of town. If anything, she needs information on the shady place the Obsidians are running. Susanna had given her direction. Now, she just needed a way in.
The place is unfamiliar. Maybe Kalv could help? He knows people here...
"M... Milady?"
Primrose almost missed that timid call for her attention. She stops abruptly and looks around. Standing a little off the path is a woman in a thick maroon dress. She has wavy black hair tied in a ponytail and dark grey eyes. Her face is a bit tired, showing some lack of sleep and fatigue... but Primrose knew that visage.
"A... Arianna?" Primrose can scarcely believe it, only breathing that name out of her lips as if it were not to be believed.
"I-it is you...! Milady Primrose...!" Arianna approaches, clutching the shawl across her shoulders, "You... you're alive...!"
Primrose glances around and, sure enough, she sees her companions approaching. She looks to Arianna with a strained smile.
"You as well... I'm glad... Uh... But it's perhaps best we not speak here in the open..." She says in a hushed voice. Her eyes glance around furtively as a gesture.
"O-Oh, of course..." Arianna nods in understanding.
"By the gods... Arianna?" Simeon approaches now with Alfyn, Therion, and Tressa close behind, "It's you? In the flesh?"
"S-Simeon?" Arianna gawks, "Whatever in the fates..."
"Huh? Y'all know this lady?" Alfyn blinks obliviously and offers his hand to Arianna, "Hiya, I'm Alfyn!"
"Erm..." Arianna looks a bit overwhelmed seeing these faces here.
"... Arianna, somewhere more private, perhaps?" Primrose urges.
"O-of course... please, right this way..."
The party follows Arianna to a house back on the side of the frozen lake where they first stepped foot into Stillsnow. The house is only a little wider than Alfyn's, Therion recalls, and it has a second floor. Arianna opens the door to show a dingy interior with various cots and makeshift beds around a single fireplace. There is one other person here, a scantily dressed woman standing by the fire. Stairs leading up to the second floor look a bit rickety. It's not too much warmer in here than it is outside.
"Hm? Ari?" The scantily dressed woman looks to the guests, "What the- You bought customers here?"
"Customers?" Tressa perks up.
"No, uh, these are..." Arianna knits her fingers together, "Sandra, I need a private place to..."
"Upstairs, then. Can't believe you got a girl in..." Sandra points a thumb upstairs and blows a loose lock of hair from her face, "Everyone else is at the parlor. Don't be late."
"The Parlor..." Primrose now looks to Arianna.
The woman merely nods, not looking to the dancer. She leads them up the creaky stairs to the much colder second floor. There is no fire lit here, though there is a sooty fireplace. There are scattered sheets and materials for makeshift bedding on the floor.
"S-sorry for these conditions..." Arianna rubs her fingers together to try and warm them, "But we can... speak freely here..."
Therion goes to the fire and lights it with a smack of his blade against some flint. The flame further illuminates the poor state of this place, with peeling walls and whistling wind through cracks in the ceiling.
"Egads..." Alfyn shuffles a little and glances over some of the beds, "Uhh... You live here, miss...?"
Arianna looks to Primrose.
"... This is Arianna. She is... an old acquaintance of mine," The dancer says, omitting spare details, "I thought I would never see you again... and yet, here of all places..."
"I thought you were dead, milady... I saw the spectacle in the morning and I... I feared the worst," Arianna sits down on a dusty chair nearby, "The Forsythe family announced the findings... and that was..."
The woman doesn't finish, merely letting out a choked-up sob. Primrose looks almost guiltily towards her. Therion hadn't seen that face on the dancer since Sadiq died. Arianna regathers her composure.
"Sorry, erm... I-I had glimpsed your dancing at the tavern... But I kept hidden because... I was scarcely able to believe it...!" Arianna gives a weak smile to the dancer, "It's like something of the Sacred Flame led us together despite all that happened... you look more beautiful than before, even."
"I'm ... glad you're alive, Arianna..." Primrose's eyes soften, "It has been... 10 long years... How had you ended up here of all places?"
Tressa looks like a bulb just went off in her head, but Therion stops her before she blurts out something embarrassing.
"... You probably already heard... about the poorest kept secret here in the Frostlands..."
"A brothel, right?" Primrose says in soft admittance.
Arianna nods solemnly, "People from the realm over come here. The public turns a blind eye to this dirty secret... the whores and the brothel simply do not exist. They are invisible."
Simeon folds his arms a little, shifting his weight on his legs, "Arianna, then you are..."
"... Yes. I am a whore," Arianna says bitterly, biting her lip, "After the Azelhart house fell and we were relieved of our duties, I could hardly find enough menial work as a maid to keep myself alive... I ventured up here a few years ago... It's a... decent living we make, at least..."
The woman draws her shawl about her closer. Alfyn tilts his head a little at her movement. For a second, he thought he saw her wince.
"A-anyway... Lady Primrose," Arianna looks to the dancer again, "What brings you to these parts? And Simeon as well..."
Simeon looks to Primrose and then back to Arianna, "I am admittedly merely following Primrose..."
"... I am looking for someone in Stillsnow."
Everyone stares as Primrose walks over to Arianna and kneels with her hands on the woman's lap. She looks up at Arianna in earnest.
"A man with the mark of the crow on his left arm... Rufus. He is the owner of the brothel, the Parlor, isn't he..." Primrose asks quietly.
Arianna looks at her with wide eyes of surprised helplessness. Her lower lip trembles. Even in her silence, these tells show she definitely knows what Primrose is talking about. Her cold, shaking hands lower to touch Primrose's as her voice comes out barely above a whisper.
"Lady Primrose... why do you seek this man...? It... It isn't safe... It won't do anyone any good..."
"Do not misunderstand, Arianna... I'm not doing this as vigilante work... This is for myself," Primrose answers, her eyes remaining on Arianna's.
Therion narrows his eyes slightly. Is the dancer going to use that power of hers to charm this woman to get what she wants?
"I beg of you, Arianna... If you know something, please tell me," Primrose pleads softly, "I traveled this far in search of this person... to right a wrong from that night."
Alfyn frowns a little, but he and Tressa remain quiet. Therion casts an eye at Simeon, who seems a bit indifferent on the topic.
"Do you recognize this?" Primrose pulls out the scribbled map she and Therion got from Helgenish.
Arianna looks at the map for a few seconds. Recognition flickers in her eyes. Perhaps knowing her nonverbal betrayal, she looks away and coughs a little into her hand. Her thin shoulders shake.
"Hey, hey, you alright?" Alfyn looks worried, "You been shiverin' nonstop since we saw ya!"
"Arianna?" Primrose presses a bit harder, "You know what this map is and where it leads to, don't you?"
The former maid looks back to the dancer, a hand covering her own mouth. Her eyes speak of denial. Finally, she nods. Primrose notices a bit of red drip from her fingers. Her green eyes widen.
"... Alfyn, she's coughing out blood," Primrose says hurriedly to the apothecary. She pulls away from Arianna and lets Alfyn do his thing. Arianna begins coughing again, harsher this time.
"Woah, woah, woah, there..." Alfyn kneels before Arianna and gently coaxes her hand away from her mouth, "Lemme see. Don't worry, I can help... I'm an apothecary!"
"Yeesh... the ventilation in here's bad, too... no wonder she's sick..." Tressa waves some smoke out of her face, "Is that chimney blocked? Therion, come help me here!"
While Therion, Tressa, and Alfyn remain upstairs, Primrose abruptly leaves the prostitute's dormitories, stepping back out into the cold. Simeon follows behind, but not too closely.
...
The eager huntress left the seeress' abode quick behind the heels of Alaic. The former Obsidian is not one to wait, even for ladies. In fact, his pace picked up as he began to lead H'aanit and Linde out the north side of Stillsnow. It is evident here that the trees thicken at an amazing rate so that it becomes difficult to see ahead. The trunks of trees are almost like walls with how close together they are. Yet, it is also abundantly clear that many creatures lie in the thick and thin by these snowy woods.
Alaic stops suddenly in his tracks and takes an offensive stance. H'aanit catches up just in time to see two horned snow leopards growling ahead of them. The former Obsidian raises his fists. Linde jumps forward, bristling at the sight of her kin.
Male snow leopards grow a thick mane around their torsos as well as crooked horns from behind their ears. They sport a pair of canines like sabers from their upper jaw. Their fur is much thicker and untamed. They appear rather hostile to the presence of these humans in their realm.
"... They aren wary of us in their territory," H'aanit says as she draws her bow, "Howe far lyeth the trail into the Whitewood?"
"... The path lies further on, close," Alaic says with surprising clarity, "It will lead right to the heart of the Whitewood, where the herb is supposed to grow."
H'aanit bats an eye as a cold, snowy gale blows through, "Then letten us hunten."
Linde makes a fast movement, taking her wild kin by surprise. With a feral snarl, Linde makes a swipe at one of the wild ones and forces them back. H'aanit nocks an arrow and then follows up on her partner's assault with a true shot aim. The arrow buries itself into the wild male's eye, making it yowl in pain.
Alaic runs forward, much to H'aanit's surprise. She thought he was wary about beasts. The former Obsidian impressively grasps the yowling leopard and thrashes it squarely on its side into a tree. It slumps onto the ground, curling up in pain.
The other wild leopard makes a strike for Alaic. Linde intercepts its pounce. They both tumble down onto the snows. The male rakes its fangs at Linde and she angrily swats back with her claws at his face. H'aanit holds her fire, lest she hit Linde.
Once again, Alaic does not fail to surprise and runs forward with an arm reeled back. In a burst of strength, he wallops the male entangled with Linde, smacking the beast's head back and away from the tussle. The male leopard isn't out just yet. It shakes itself off of snow and stands. Alaic stands stalwartly, fists still at the ready. Linde, having untangled from the dust ball conflict, stands and shakes herself off as well. She snarls at her wild kin.
"Rr..."
The males slowly pick themselves up and back away from the trio. H'aanit keeps her arrow nocked, but she slowly lowers her bow as the enemies back away. Alaic's fists remain clenched as he moves ahead deeper into the woods. None of them take their eyes off the leopards.
"... They be'en leopards like thee, Linde," H'aanit remarks as they pass another line of tree cover and no longer see the leopards.
"Rowr..." Linde rolls her eyes.
"... There, up ahead," Alaic forges on through the snow. It reaches quite high, nearly up to the waist. However, he is like a ship fording the waves, leaving a convenient trail for H'aanit to follow.
H'aanit observes the whiteness around them. Another chilling wind whips the top of snows around them into powdery gales.
"Grim whiteness doth coveren... and the wind doth cutteth to the bone," She says to herself as she draws her furs tightly about herself. She is confident in her choice to come alone.
"... This is it."
Alaic pauses before a small incline in the snows. The rocky earth underneath can be felt rising, lessening the cover of snow atop. The trees here are almost entirely white from covering frost. Betwixt a few of these trees, a vague clearing can be seen extending forth, though there are little prints to show disturbance.
"A trail...?" H'aanit raises an eyebrow.
"A path only the mistress knows of. The snow here never melts. It covers everything, and all directions appears the same before long," Alaic says with surprising breath, "The herb lies within."
"Susanna doth keepen this a secret to guardeth the herb?" H'aanit looks to the man.
Alaic shakes his head, "Dangerous creatures lurk within. It's best that others don't get themselves killed trying, she said."
"... So, thou hath a tongue like any man," H'aanit now gives a small smirk, "And thou spaketh as well."
The former Obsidian shows the slightest of a frown on his face and sighs, "... Only when there is something to be said."
H'aanit chuckles, much to Alaic's surprise, "A wise principle. Willen that more folk coulden follow."
"..." Alaic lightly nestles his face closer in the thick, high collar of his coat as he averts his eyes, "You made Susanna happier than I've seen in years."
"Oh?" H'aanit blinks, "Hmm... I supposen she weren laughen a bit..."
"More than she has in years," Alaic nods, "So pray you return safely, that she may remain rejoicing."
"... Tis odd, as we hath only just met," H'aanit looks down to Linde, "And yet I doen oweth her muche. I shallen not fail."
Alaic nods and stands aside for her to pass. The huntress and her partner walk on into the trail to whiteness and shortly fade from Alaic's sight. The former Obsidian sighs through his nostrils and flexes his fists a bit before promptly turning back to return to Stillsnow.
...
Upon Alaic's return, Olberic goes to fetch Ophilia. H'aanit may not be back yet; but if Alaic can watch Susanna, and possibly also Cyrus, it put Olberic's mind at ease not to leave Ophilia alone; especially after the unsavory information they had learned about this town's affiliations.
"..." The warrior stands solemnly before the doors to the chapel. A light snowfall had begun a few minutes ago. He's not a person that went to church much, but even he can tell this place has seen better days.
With a sigh, he knocks and pushes the door open. Knocking was probably unnecessary, but he just did it out of instinctive politeness.
Inside the chapel, candles illuminate the dim interior. Their stands are already topped with melted wax. The pews don't have many attendants, and one of them seems to be a drunken bum. At the front, under the dull mural, is the pulpit where a nun seems to be presiding over service. At the very front row, the warrior sees that familiar blonde head of hair.
Olberic nods a little as the nun looks up at his entry. He shuts the door behind himself and goes to approach Ophilia. The cleric looks up with a start when he reaches her row, then smiles a little, quietly bidding him to sit. Olberic settles his large frame onto the pew seat with a creak.
"... Alaic returned from the wood," Olberic whispers to Ophilia, "He says Lady H'aanit has gone on ahead as she said she would. Alone."
Ophilia pouts a little at the news, "... How long has it been?"
"Well, he just returned so it could not have been more than half an hour or so...?"
Ophilia sighs and goes to rise, "Let us return to Susanna's then..."
Suddenly, the doors of the chapel open and Ophilia stares. Olberic looks as well. They see a person in bishop's clothes walk in. His face is middle-aged, with light wrinkles, and his brown hair is lined with bits of blonde. His grey eyes are stormy as they look to the pulpit. Olberic can see the nun suddenly blanch.
"F-Father Eschard!" The nun bows hastily, "Praise the Flame... I-I didn't know you were arriving today."
"That would certainly explain the paltry welcome completely unbefitting my entrance..." The bishop named Eschard sighs with disapproval, "Sister Nina, service is an utter pain to the eyes with only so many."
"We... have not been receiving many coming for services..." The nun named Nina bows her head a little.
"It figures," The bishop scowls a little, "I had just arrived from the days of grieving as well... Such a shoddy showing..."
He sighs and sweeps over the room with his eyes, "Hm?"
He sees Ophilia and Olberic, though mostly Ophilia.
"Ah, a visiting sister?" The bishop smiles, "Welcome to our humble establishment."
Something about the man struck Olberic a little off. Perhaps it was how he spoke to the meek nun. Ophilia curtsies.
"Hello, I am Ophilia from the Church of the Flame in Flamesgrace," The cleric gives an expression short of a smile, "Are you the presiding bishop here?"
"Yes, a temporary appointment. I am Eschard," The bishop nods, "Apologies, as I travel around the northern area of the Frostlands, so I hadn't been in Stillsnow to greet you..."
His eyes then look at the lanthorn at her side.
"Ah, you..." Eschard blinks, "The Flamebearer? What brings you up so far north?"
"Oh, there were some... difficulties traveling that forced me northward," Ophilia keeps lies to a minimum, "I was visiting the chapel and Sister Nina was very hospitable..."
"Ah, is that so. Hmm, well, unfortunately, we won't be keeping our doors open much longer," Eschard shrugs a little, "Tis the will of the Flame, but we can hardly keep this place going as it is."
"Pray tell, is it really because of a spat with the landowners?" Ophilia asks bravely.
"Well, look for yourself, my dear," Eschard gestures at the paltry attendance in the hall, "The faith here is weak. We don't have enough funds to keep the wax lit all the time."
"Have you written of this to the main churches?" Ophilia points out, "I am sure Flamesgrace Cathedral or even Emberglow could-"
"No, no, no, no need," Eschard waves a hand and cuts her off, "We may be able to discuss with the landowners after this chapel is closed. They may be open to refurbishing some other spot, making a newer, better church."
"A newer church...?" Ophilia raises an eyebrow.
"Yes, yes... talks are in session, things are in motion... Oh, but time and daylight are sparse here and I must attend to other matters!" Eschard gasps, "I hope you can pardon my absence, Sister Ophilia."
"Of course. It was nice to meet you," Ophilia nods.
Eschard hurriedly makes his way out of the chapel now. Ophilia looks to Nina, who seems relieved Eschard finally left.
"...Sister Nina, pray tell... Who was the bishop grieving for?"
Nina shakes her head a little, "His daughter, Helene... The poor girl... The bishop's main residence is actually in Northreach, you see... but he comes here to practice on occasion, as Northreach does not have an official church... He was appointed shortly after the previous bishop had passed..."
"Ah, I see... My condolences," Ophilia nods, "May the Flame be with you, Sister..."
Olberic stands silently and nods to Nina before following Ophilia out. The cleric seems pensive as they are greeted by the snowy wind outside once more. She keeps a hand near the warmth of the flickering flame in the lanthorn at her side.
"... Are you alright?" Olberic asks quietly.
Ophilia nods, "Let us return to the house..."
The warrior casts a wary eye around, as if looking for anyone spying on them. He and Ophilia return to the warmth of Susanna's house.
...
I hurry out from Arianna's dormitories back to the cold. It's a welcome rush of chilling waking after that meeting. Not caring that I left my outer coat inside, I dart to the side of the dorm house. Looking around, I see the snow drifts that cover the sloping decline down to the frozen lakeside. I haphazardly slide down there. My breath is a bit fraught and comes out in hushed puffs of white in the chilly air. Perhaps I lost more of my humanity than I thought, because the biting cold doesn't bother me in the slightest.
I settle myself by the edge of the frozen lake. Overhead, the daylight is fading fast. I hear the shadows speaking now.
The Obsidian Parlor... I'm so close to one of the crows that I can taste it. I must act soon...
And yet, part of me is just recoiling at the thought...
Back there, in that room... I was ... manipulating Arianna, wasn't I... My magic was going as far as siphoning her life because I wanted so desperately to know. She started coughing blood suddenly... I felt her life strings and I pulled to get what I wanted... I was willing to almost kill her to get the information I needed...
I was resolved to this... to devoting everything to my pursuit. It's why Sadiq died... It's why Yusufa...
Would Arianna be another pawn lost to my cause?
This power feeds off my desperation. I had been too eager and I let it loose... Similar to how it felt back in the Azure Caves down in the Coastlands...
There is an aching hollowness begging to be filled with souls and blood. It feels hot on my chest. Looking down, I see that dark mark glowing with magenta highlights. It wants to consume.
That horrible fate that befell other Azelharts before me...
"Huff...!" I breathe and try to tune those thoughts out. A myriad of voices rise to try and overtake me. This is what drove so many prior Azelharts to insanity... I mustn't...!
"Prim?"
I flinch at the call of my name. It is a familiar voice that brings me out of madness.
"Prim? Where are you?"
I shudder a little and gather myself, "Simeon? I-I'm here..."
That familiar face looks down at me from the slope of snow. He awkwardly makes his way down with unsure footing, ending up face-first beside me. I can't help but let a small laugh escape my lips.
"Pftt..."
"Oh, there you are, haha..." He sits up and realizes I am without an outer coat, "Gods, Prim, you ran out without your coat!"
He doffs his own to cover me. It's such a nostalgic gesture.
"We don't want you catching a cold out here..." He says softly, making sure I'm covered, "What happened? Why did you run?"
"I..." I look out to the lake, not facing his eyes, "I just needed some fresh air..."
"... I see," He doesn't press for more, though he does seem relieved that I'm not harmed.
I sigh, "How is Arianna?"
"Oh, I am highly confident in Sir Alfyn's abilities! Arianna must have been shouldering some illness for a bit... and to no surprise, either. The beastly weather up here is ill-suited for her..." Simeon reminisces a little, "I recall in the winters back in Noblecourt, she hated being anywhere away from the hearths in the house!"
I chuckle at that memory, "And those winters were not even as cold as a regular day here..."
Our brief laughter fades. Once again, I find myself staring quietly out towards the lake. The voices in my mind to consume have momentarily died down. However, I have an uncomfortably heightened sense of some of the people nearby... I can see their souls and the strings...
"... My flower, what is wrong?" Simeon asks earnestly.
I blink, feeling his coat around me, "... Arianna and you... and the other people back at the Azelhart manor... Everyone was uprooted that night. Everything was..."
Simeon lets a small breath escape his lips, "It was ... a blow to all of us. You included, Prim... and perhaps more so."
"If only... You know, I think back to that night all the time and I... I wonder what I could have done to change things. Was there anything I could have done? Maybe then..." I don't even finish my unrealized wishes. It's like a child pining for their lost toy that will never return.
"None of that was your fault. And I am sure Arianna does not fault you of all people," Simeon pats my shoulder gently.
"..."
He's right... That was why I decided I would do this. Because it's the doing of the Obsidians that upended everything. It's their fault. That's why I have to hunt them down... While they relish the fruits of their criminal network, people suffer from their cruelty and clandestine dealings... Even now, Arianna remains under their thumb.
I have to kill them. Even if the fault does not lie with me... As heiress of the Azelhart name, I must take responsibility.
Taking a deep breath through my nostrils, I stand. Simeon looks up at me, bemused.
"... Thank you, Simeon," I smile down at him, "You best take your coat back. You're colder than I."
"Ah, that's... nothing, my flower," He stands and pats the snow off his pants, "I'm glad your spirits could be lifted, is all!"
He lets out a loud sneeze right after saying that.
"Fufu... Well, it's hard with the company," I scoff and hand him back his coat, "Let's see if Arianna is better."
Returning inside to that dormitory, the woman named Sandra seems to cursing at the sputtering fire while trying to keep herself warm. I assume she is the dorm mother of this place. I walk back upstairs with Simeon without another word.
Upstairs, Tressa is working her gate powers to keep the fire going and ventilated. Her wind funnels the smoke up the chimney, so it doesn't clog up the room. Her control has improved markedly. Therion is keeping a close eye on her out of caution.
On a dusty recliner on the side, Arianna is lying down and Alfyn is tending to her. She looks up at our return.
"Lady Primrose..." Arianna blinks tiredly, "A thousand pardons for that..."
"No, you did nothing wrong," I sigh and walk over, "I should apologize for being so overeager..."
"You just lay down and rest a bit, okay? Don't want ya getting a nasty fever!" Alfyn grins, "Yer lungs're just a bit inflamed... I'll whip up something quick, okay!"
Alfyn hops to his concoctions. I sigh and sit down beside Arianna.
"Are you alright?" I look that familiar face over. She was a rather young maid in our manor. A few years older than me...
"It is nothing..." She sighs and touches my cold hands with her own, "Lady Primrose, you're chilled...!"
"No, I was just out in the snow. It's not really that cold," I chuckle softly, "Have you been sick for a while?"
"It's... not uncommon..." Arianna sighs, "Not all of us are Frostlanders here... So now and then the chill gets quite bad, and we don't have the best heat here..."
She glances with a weak smile at Tressa fanning the flame. There is a healthy glowing hearth now, with a minimum of smoke in the room. But it's not the largest fire so the room's perimeter remains rather cold.
"Smoke inhalation over a long time ain't good either! S'why I always told ol' man Grummet to give up that pipe!" Alfyn sighs and brings over his mortar and pestle, "Alright, it's nice and ground up."
He takes a spoon and offers some dark brownish looking stuff to Arianna. The former maid looks very apprehensive about putting that in her mouth. I can't say I wouldn't be either.
"Alfyn is an excellent apothecary," I assure her, "It may just look a little suspect at first, but the best medicine is often bitter..."
Arianna seems to trust my words and sighs a little before preparing herself and ingesting the spoonful offered. Her face screws up briefly, like she'd just eaten a lemon.
"Geez, Alf, what'd you put in that?" Tressa glances over.
"It's just a bit of citron I picked up down at the Coastlands and some firegrass, noxroot..." Alfyn lists his ingredients, "It oughta clean up the inflammation!"
"Indeed, your medicine is very reliable," Simeon sighs with a smile.
Arianna coughs a few times and her breathing clears up, "Ufh... oh, whew, that went down... somehow..."
"Will it work immediately?" I look to Alfyn.
"Give it a bit of a rest and it should be fine," He smiles, "Glad I could help!"
Arianna leans back in the recliner and looks up to me, tired, "... Thank you, Lady Primrose..."
"Nonsense. You're an old friend, Arianna," I pat her hand, "We'll leave you to rest then..."
"No, wait..." She holds my hand a little tighter, "I... I want to tell you, Lady Primrose... about what that map is..."
I pause and lean closer.
"It marks where... the carriage comes... to pick us up to go ... to the Parlor," She says to me in a quiet voice, "No one would put the Parlor on a map... since it's not supposed to exist... but that's where the carriage comes and takes us... to Rufus..."
Rufus... I nod solemnly, "And this carriage... I'm assuming it's not a free ride."
Arianna shakes her head, "It's only transport for us... If... If the driver sees you aren't one of us... he'll know... and get suspicious..."
"Hmm... And where is this location exactly? Where the carriage comes?"
"By the ... tavern... There's only one more ... late tonight, since... since most of the other girls are already there..." Arianna sighs, seemingly tired from talking after that medicine, "I... I can try and..."
"... rest," I sigh and close her eyes, "... We have some time then, before the evening, maybe."
I look to Alfyn, "How long does the medicine have her rest?"
"Ah, no more than an hour or two," Alfyn sighs, folding his arms, "Golly though! What if the other girls here all got the same breathing issues from this smoke and cold! That's dangerous! These employers don't care for their health at all!"
"Big surprise," Therion scoffs, rolling his eye.
"It definitely ain't right... that kinda business is black, as in illegal!" Tressa huffs, "Everyone knows the fair labor and trade laws these days!"
"Were those not only in certain parts of the Coastlands?" Simeon raises an eyebrow.
"... Still!" Tressa pouts.
"... I will go to the Parlor tonight," I stand, "It's my chance at last."
"Wait, you ain't goin' alone...!" Alfyn exclaims, "First H'aanit and now you? I mean, at least H'aanit's got Linde..."
"This Parlor is sure to be a dangerous place, Alfyn," I look to him seriously, "And this is my vendetta alone. No one else needs to be involved."
Of course dear thief Therion hangs back like it's none of his business.
"Prim, flower, this is nonsense. You are not alone," Simeon places a hand on my shoulder, "We can help you."
"Yeah! I wanna show this guy a piece of my mind, too!" Tressa nods, "Plus, I gotta say... this Parlor place sounds interesting!"
Therion looks to the merchant's enthusiasm, unamused. I am surprised by her gumption as well.
"Erm, lady Tressa, it really isn't a place for your eyes, I think..." Simeon starts.
"Hey, I'm an adult! I know what prostitutes do!" Tressa folds her arms, "Besides, I'm not helpless if we get into any trouble!"
To illustrate her point, she brandishes the polearm she keeps with her and scratches the floor and rafters, "Oops!"
Therion rolls his eye.
"... Well, first things first, we need to learn more about this carriage... Arianna is exhausted, so I would like to ask about a little myself," I flip my ponytail a little, "There is a high chance that because you three are men, you won't be allowed on. This brothel is a place selling women, after all."
"Great, guess we can't go," Therion says sarcastically.
"What if we follow the carriage!" Alfyn says eagerly, "Sneaking after them oughta work!"
"I am not confident in my ability to outrun a horse..." Simeon sighs.
"Wait, I got it! What if you guys were Parlor customers?" Tressa exclaims in revelation, "Simeon should look the part, at least!"
"I... can't tell if that's a compliment or not..." Simeon shakes his head.
I chuckle, "Well, before we make any plans... we should see what others might know about this carriage. Alfyn, could you stay with Arianna? I'll be downstairs talking with Sandra. Fetch me if Arianna awakens."
"Alright, just leave it to me!" Alfyn nods.
I now leave to go downstairs. Sandra seems to be getting dressed in a ratty shawl by the flame. She finally takes notice of me and raises an eyebrow.
"... what do you want?" She asks curtly.
"I want to ask about the carriage that's coming," I reply to the point, "The one that takes you to the Parlor."
She looks me up and down, "... You a whore from down under? Looking for work up here?"
"... If that is what will get me on, then yes."
Sandra seems to consider something and goes to play with a loose strand of her wavy red hair, "You'd stick out like a sore thumb, not being a regular. Oren's got a sharp eye. He's good at what he does."
"Oh? Oren, hm," I roll the name over a few times in my mind, "Is he the coachman?"
"Aye, and a sort of guard, too," Sandra scoffs, "He always looks us over to make sure we don't hide knives in our dresses. A very suspicious man, that one..."
Well, that might pose an issue then. But I can't be thwarted so easily.
"If he is the only one that needs convincing, I'm sure I can work something out then," I smile, "This ride is only for the ladies, yes?"
"Customers take their own rides there, usually. They can pay for it," She nods and points behind me, "Is that one?"
I glance behind me to see Simeon standing there, having followed me downstairs.
"... Perhaps," I look back to Sandra, "Well, thank you for your time."
"The carriage stops right by the tavern in a few hours," Sandra looks to a worn timepiece on the wall, "Don't be late."
"Rest assured, I never make patrons wait."