Chapter Text
Month of Sealticge, Darksday 18, 1618
Therion weaved through the lively tavern crowd toward the table Ophilia sat at. Ever since Primrose had finished her dance, the patrons were noticeably more excitable. It made it easier for him to get there unnoticed.
“Prim, you did incredible!” He heard Tressa exclaim. The young merchant could make her voice heard in any room. It was sometimes funny how different they were.
“Thank you, Tressa,” Primrose said, sitting down at the table, beaming. Therion had noticed shortly after they began traveling together that she only looked truly happy when she danced. The two of them were more similar than he had originally thought.
Therion cleared his throat once he had reached the table, standing behind H’aanit. Ophilia looked up at him and blanched, her eyes widening.
“Therion.” Primrose’s voice was cold, any hint of joy gone.
“Primrose. I was wondering if I could borrow your priestess for a moment.”
“Why, so you can be a jerk again?” Tressa said accusingly.
Therion glared at her. “If you must know, I’m trying this thing called apologizing.”
Tressa opened her mouth to speak, but Ophilia held up a gloved hand. “It’s all right, Tressa. I will go.” The cleric stood up, following Therion out of the tavern.
The thief breathed in the crisp evening air as the tavern door swung shut. He turned to face Ophilia, who was nervously looking around their surroundings.
“Everything fine?” The thief asked.
Ophilia nodded. “Yes. I’m just a bit concerned that someone will try to duel us. Fighting is common here, after all.”
Therion smiled at her. “I’ve got my dagger. We’ll be fine.” He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. He really wasn’t used to apologies.
He took a deep inhale. “Ophilia, I wanted to say sorry for what I said on the way here. I…I shouldn’t have said that. Even though I have some…opinions on the gods, I need to respect that you have different feelings.”
Ophilia smiled. “Thank you, Therion.” Her blonde hair glowed in the lanternlight. She reached a gloved hand up to the gemstone that held her cloak over her shoulders. “Why did you say it, though, if you know you shouldn’t have?”
Therion let out a breathy laugh. “That’s the question of the day, isn’t it?” He looked over Victors Hollow. The tavern was near the edge of town, but he could see the dense forests of the Woodlands border the buildings. “The things I’ve been through, priestess…how could the gods have let that happen?” His voice broke near the end of his sentence.
Ophilia bit her lip and reached her arm out, her fingers grazing his forearm. “Therion…what happened to you?” She asked, her voice full of concern.
Therion looked away from her. “Don’t, Ophilia.” Hearing those words felt like a stab in the heart as he remembered a hearty laugh.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t act all kind. Like you care about me. Like my past matters to you.” Therion clenched his hand into a fist.
“Therion, I do care about you. We’re traveling together. Why would I not?”
Therion let out a shuddering breath. “Because people only ever have their own interests in mind.” He hated being this vulnerable, this raw. Why couldn’t everyone just mind their own business?
“Just because I care about the Kindling and its success doesn’t mean that I will ignore your search for the dragonstones. I will gladly aid you when we get to Noblecourt.”
“You don’t understand, priestess!” Therion snapped, turning back towards her and stepping backwards once. “Nobody in this world cares about anyone but themselves. People only care about other people when something’s in it for them.”
“I don’t have anything in it for me! I am doing this because I care!” Ophilia exclaimed. “Why won’t you trust me, Therion?”
Therion felt his anger flare. His fists clenched tighter. “No matter how much you trust someone, they will always betray you. Better that you learn sooner rather than later.”
Therion could see tears well in Ophilia’s eyes. “Therion…”
“I’m going to the inn, priestess. Leave me be.” His voice quivered.
Therion walked past the cleric towards the inn, leaving Ophilia behind as she called his name.
“What happened to you?” Therion asked, shuffling through his pack in search of a healing grape.
“Hell if I know!” Darius exclaimed, dramatically flopping onto the ground. “One second, I was creepin’ out the window! Then the ducks and geese flew in and knocked me right over. One of ‘em got me with ‘is spear.”
Therion rolled his eyes as he tossed the grape to his partner. Darius’ odd accent was, according to him, common with Highlands brigands. Therion didn’t have much experience with people from the Highlands, so he wasn’t able to tell if it was the truth. “Sorry for making you go out on your own. But growing pains make it hard to run when you need to.” He had been thirteen then, Darius three years his elder. He had hit a growth spurt, and his ankles ached all the time. He hoped he wouldn’t grow much more. It was easier to steal things if you were small.
“It’s all good, mate. Normally I’m good to do it Jack Jones, but the Ciannos must’ve called in the guards.” The thief stood and went to grab his pack from where he had thrown it deeper in the alley.
“Bastards,” Therion muttered. “I’ll make sure to come on the next run.”
“They sure are!” Darius laughed, swooping his bag up from off the ground. “But look at this necklace! The watch couldn’t half-inch this off of me!”
Therion cracked a grin. The necklace was silver, with a thick piece of topaz in the center. It was easily worth at least ten thousand leaves. “Think it’ll buy us a night at the inn? I’m tired of sleeping on the streets. And the watch might’ve followed you. They could bust our spot!”
Darius tossed the necklace into the air. “Aye, it’ll likely get a good price. We can arrange for a day at the inn. A soft bed rather ‘n the streets sounds like a right treat!"
Therion slammed the door to the inn open, his breath ragged as the memory of the night flashed through his mind. Gods, why did Ophilia have to say that of all things?
He quickly ran up the stairs towards the room he and Alfyn shared, fishing the key out of his pocket. If he was lucky, the apothecary would be at the tavern for a while longer. The apothecary tended to get deep into his ale, so it was likely he’d stumble in after the sun had fully set.
Therion yanked the door open after he had unlocked it and shoved it shut, collapsing against it. “Fuck,” he whispered, clenching his fists.
He felt like he would never escape the memory of Darius, especially now that he was traveling with people. Of course they would start asking about his past. But he couldn’t trust any of them. Just because Ophilia wore a holy cloth didn’t mean she wasn’t going to leave the second the Kindling finished.
Therion looked down at his bandaged legs. He had last changed them in Bolderfall, and they were dirty from the week they had traveled since then. He would grab some from Alfyn’s satchel when the apothecary slept and replace them from a shop in town. He needed to buy more scar tincture as well. He’d do that when they were around town looking for Gustav.
He reached down to scratch at one of the scars, startling when he heard a timid voice call his name from behind the door.
“Therion, are you well? You ran off so quickly…” Ophilia said. Therion could hear the worry in her voice.
Therion looked down at his calf. The bandage still covered his skin. She wouldn’t see the scars that marred his legs. With a sigh, he stood and opened the door. “Wasn’t expecting you to follow me,” he said simply.
“Might I come in?” She asked, clutching her staff tightly. He supposed the lanthorn was back at the tavern with the other travelers.
He smirked. “Asking to come into my room? A bit forward of you, priestess.”
Her face flushed bright red, causing his grin to widen. He enjoyed teasing the cleric. She was really the only one he could. Primrose had dealt with enough of it with her eight years in Sunshade, Tressa was just an annoying brat, and he was worried H’aanit might shoot him if he said anything too suggestive to her. “I-I…Oh, you know that’s not what I meant!” She said furtively, eyes wide.
“Of course. I’m only joking. Make yourself comfortable.” The cleric quickly walked inside, sitting on the edge of the bed closer to the door. “So, what do you wanna ask me about? Or are you coming into my room for other reasons?” He grinned at her as she blushed once more.
“Therion, that is quite enough! I am a member of the Order!” She protested.
He sat down next to her. “But you must have so much pent up inside you. I gotta say, you picked a good guy to release the tension with.”
Ophilia began to stammer. “I-I…I do not wish to…to have relations with you or any other man until I am finished with the Kindling!”
“A pity. After all, what use is such a pretty face when not put to use?” Therion looked into her deep brown eyes, framed by light lashes.
Her lips parted slightly, and Therion felt a fire begin to burn in his chest. He dug his fingers into the sheets as she spoke. “I…Thank you, I suppose. But that is quite enough! Now then, I came here to see if you were all right. You ran away from the tavern so quickly. I was worried for you.”
Therion let out a sigh. “I’m fine, Ophilia.”
“Are you sure?” She pressed.
Therion wasn’t fine, by any man’s standards. But she didn’t need to know that. She was still so naïve. And he would guard his past as much as he could. “I’m sure.”
“Therion…I can tell that you’ve been through some tragic events. If you need somebody to listen to you, I am willing.”
Therion was surprised at the earnest expression on her face. He wasn’t used to kindness from people. They usually treated him like scum on their boots. “Ophilia, you don’t want to know my past. It’s an ugly thing.”
“Therion…”
“You should go. It’s late, and we’ve got a lot of work cut out for us tomorrow.”
Ophilia let out a dejected sigh. “Very well.” She stood and walked towards the door, turning back to him. “Good night, Therion. Sleep well.”
“Good night, priestess,” he whispered after she left.