After the travelers returned to Stonegard, they went their separate ways just as they had planned. That left Tressa with Olberic and Primrose, and together, the trio wandered aimlessly through the city's streets. Olberic was doing his best to keep his hands off his sword for the sake of luring the spy out of hiding. If he was blatantly prepared for an attack, then he wouldn't be able to properly get the spy to act. They would see that action as the threat it was, and they couldn't afford that. 

Primrose, meanwhile, was far better at acting like she was in control of the situation, and she wore a loose smile as she led the group through Stonegard. She was more than experienced with smiling in the face of hardship and misunderstanding, so this was just another piece of her daily life. Well, it had been part of her regular routine back in Sunshade, and as long ago as that felt now, it wasn't all that distant in the grand scheme of their journey, so Primrose could slip easily enough into the facade. It was almost terrifying how quickly she had fallen into that old pace, but Tressa chose to not comment on it. 

Instead, the merchant took to looking at the shopfronts in Stonegard. She had looked around at everything there during their previous pass through the town, and she doubted any of the weapons there would be particularly helpful now, but it was still a nice way for her to pass the time. Besides, it was in character for her, and the spy would hopefully know that. If she looked natural, like she was just watching the items in the window with curiosity and wonder in her eyes, then the spy wouldn't have any reason to question her. It would be fine.

However, Tressa's attempts to act as natural as possible weren't going as far as she would have liked. She couldn't help but sneak glanced over her shoulder at Olberic as they wandered through the town, primarily because Olberic couldn't seem to hide his true thoughts about all of this no matter how hard he tried. He was anxious in a way Tressa wasn't used to from him, and that bothered her a lot more than the idea of being followed. That was certainly worrying too, but there was more to it than that. Olberic was usually good at hiding when he was worried about something, and this felt deeper than Tressa could have ever expected. 

"Are you alright?" Tressa eventually asked when she got sick of continuing to pretend everything was fine when it so obviously was not. She glanced up to Olberic where they stood in front of the nearby shop. Their backs were to the rest of the street, so if the traitor wanted to strike, then now would be the perfect time. All they had to do was reach out and try to stab at one of them. It was the perfect bait, or so it should have been. Tressa somehow already knew nobody was going to come after them, and she hated having to admit it. 

Olberic seemed surprised to be addressed at all, and he forced himself to nod in Tressa's direction. "I'm fine," he assured her. "I've had a lot on my mind recently, I suppose... I had a less than fortunate dream last night, and it kept me from being able to sleep."

"A dream?" Primrose questioned, her expression twisting with confusion and worry. "What kind of--" She cut herself off halfway through her inquiry when she saw Therion streak in and out of the shadows out of the corner of her vision. Primrose was quick to pull her attention away from the thief though, instead glancing back to Olberic. "Sorry. What kind of dream?"

Olberic somehow went even stiffer at that, and his hand drifted to his sword on instinct even though he knew he wouldn't be able to actually use it or even threaten to use it as long as they were being followed. "I... I would rather not say," he replied, and Tressa knew that was code for him having seen something in the night that he didn't want the spy to know about. "I've had nightmares for many nights since my home first fell to ruin, and this is hardly new to me. I suppose it's simply bothering me now because of how tired we all are."

Tressa nodded, taking the hint to not push the subject even though she wanted to ask more questions so desperately. They couldn't afford being overheard, and if that meant keeping everything quiet, then so be it. She was fine with that, though she hated just how limited they were when it came to talking about her thoughts. Every word had to be censored and thought out before it left her lips, and Tressa despised it. She turned her attention back to the nearby storefront in a desperate bid to distract herself even though she somehow already doubted it would work. Of course it wasn't going to be that simple. 

Tressa just wanted their spy to be pushed out of the picture already. They weren't going to be able to say or do much of anything as long as they were being watched, and she was exhausted after just a few hours. Hopefully, this would be the last time they had to put up with something like this, but she hated being there in the first place. Maybe the others were having better luck. That was all Tressa could hope for at this point. 

~~~~~

H'aanit was one of the most experienced hunters in the Darkwood. 

From a young age, she had been taught all she could need to know about tracking beasts and defeating them to defend her people and her home. Save for Z'aanta, H'aanit was the best hunter in all of S'warkii, and everyone knew it. Even without Z'aanta's continued tutelage, she was more than capable on her own of finding troublesome beasts and felling them before they could cause any true harm. 

As it turned out though, tracking and hunting humans was a very different task. 

H'aanit knew she could trust Therion's plan deeply and completely. He wouldn't have suggested all of this if he didn't think it could work. As a thief, Therion needed to know how to work with and around the people in his way, and he did a great job of it too. If anyone would be able to manipulate their target into behaving a certain way, it would have been Therion. 

And yet, their target for the day had been obnoxiously elusive. H'aanit had done her best to seem composed without showing that she was on the verge of tearing her bow free at any given moment, but it didn't seem to be enough. Either she wasn't selling the unaware act well enough or the travelers' stalker was too good at hiding for her to find them. H'aanit wished now that she had thought to insist upon being taught how to follow humans instead of just monsters. She hadn't even known such a skill would be useful, but now, she needed it sorely and desperately. 

Therion was every bit as frustrated as she was, and he snuck in and out of the shadows with hopes of catching even the slightest glimpse of his foe. Knots were starting to form in the skin between his eyebrows though, proof as perfect as any that he was having no such luck. H'aanit had really thought that splitting up would make it easier for them to track their target, but it didn't seem to be working that way. Their stalker had seemingly figured out their plan, and even if they had not, they refused to be caught in the trap. Therion's plan should have worked, and yet, none of them were having any luck with drawing their target out into the open. 

Even Linde was having trouble figuring out where their stalker had gone off to. She couldn't sniff out the spy following them as long as there were so many people in Stonegard, doubly so since she hadn't ever gotten a good whiff of their scent to begin with. The spy had been following the travelers for a very long time, but they had done a great job of keeping their distance, and as such, none of them had ever been able to do anything about it. H'aanit didn't know who had the time to do something like this, but she wanted to figure it out as soon as possible. She wanted to be at peace again, but that wouldn't be possible until she was certain their stalker was out of the picture. 

The afternoon stretched on for both far too long and zoomed by in the blink of an eye. H'aanit couldn't decide which of the two was worse when they had found no luck in finding the spy. She kept her eyes open the best she could, but she could never catch more than a passing glimpse of a cloak in the crowd, and it always vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Their stalker was clearly used to operating in the shadows and knew how to track others without being caught. 

H'aanit couldn't say she appreciated being turned from the predator to the prey. In fact, she felt worse about it each time she let the thought strike her unaware mind. She just wanted to be able to help her friends however she could. Why was that such a struggle all of a sudden? H'aanit had found and defeated a dragon, but she couldn't figure out how she was meant to stop someone who was following her through Stonegard? What in the world was her problem?

H'aanit shared a glance with Therion, and everything they couldn't say out loud was communicated in the few seconds they locked eyes. This wasn't working anywhere near as well as they would have liked. Their trap plan had gone up in smoke long before they could find a way to counteract it. At this point, the travelers would have likely been best off reuniting and trying to come up with another plan. H'aanit's energy was quickly fading after hours spent on alert, and she doubted she was going to feel better any time soon. 

H'aanit hated the feeling of giving up, but she didn't see any other choice. She knew Therion hated the feeling of failure even more though. He had been the one to suggest all of this, and it hadn't worked at all. Normally, he was better at reading people than this, but the person following them simply refused to fall into the trap they had set out. It didn't seem to matter what the travelers did at this point; the stalker knew how to handle it, and they were keeping their distance however they could. H'aanit and Therion had gone out of their ways to try and fix the situation, but it wasn't doing anything for them. Their stalker was still following them, but they were doing so in a perfect way to keep from being caught. The travelers wouldn't be able to get to the bottom of it so easily. They needed a change of tactics, and this trap plan wasn't working. 

Even so, H'aanit wasn't about to give up yet. They would find a way to get to the bottom of this. Their stalker wouldn't get the best of them as long as she had something to say about it. She wouldn't let them. 

~~~~~

Ophilia was, in a word, anxious. 

She didn't like this plan of theirs even though she knew Therion wouldn't have suggested it without good reason. He wanted to keep them safe, and for the time being, that meant setting up a trap for the sake of luring the spy out into the open and then catching them. He knew what he was doing, and beyond that, H'aanit and Linde were expert trackers. They would be able to find the spy even if they were less experienced with hunting people than beasts. Everything would be fine. It just had to be. 

Still, Ophilia telling herself that over and over did little to actually make her believe it. She had been gripping tightly to her staff ever since the group split up, and her eyes constantly scanned the surrounding area for any signs of the shadowy pursuer coming out of the darkness to strike. Her group was bait, and she knew it. She could feel H'aanit and Linde nearby to watch over them, but Ophilia didn't know if that was enough. What if the spy struck when H'aanit couldn't get there to back them up in time? Ophilia trusted herself to be able to heal Cyrus, yes, but she couldn't focus her attention on healing if the spy was attacking her too or if the initial blow was fatal. There were too many balls in the air for this to work, and Ophilia couldn't help feeling sick to her stomach over it all. 

"Phili?"

The sound of Alfyn's voice snapped Ophilia out of her trance immediately, and she whirled to face him with a sharp gasp. He winced upon seeing just how stressed she was, and Ophilia forced herself to push air in and out of her lungs, hating that it required effort at all. "S-Sorry..." she murmured. "I just have a bad feeling about all of this. I know we just need to trust the process, but..."

"It's not great," Alfyn agreed. He glanced over his shoulder, trying to see if they were being watched so he could gauge how he responded. "I feel like I can't even talk without bein' overheard... We haven't seen any traces of them since we went back to the woods, but..."

"I have no doubt they are still around here somewhere," Cyrus finished for him. "It would hardly surprise me if they figured out what we were trying to do. Us not starting the investigation immediately may be suspicious to them... I wouldn't like to believe they already caught on to our goal here, but..."

"Sometimes, it's not a matter of the world following what you would like to happen," Ophilia sighed. "Sometimes, people follow you halfway across Orsterra, and they decide to be stubbornly difficult to catch when you finally try to pin them down somewhere."

"Maybe we just need to be patient," Alfyn suggested with a smile. "We haven't been out here for all that long. If we just stay quiet and patient, then maybe they'll come out of hidin', and everythin' will finally come together. After that, we can get back to our investigation, and we'll be fine. I'm sure of it."

Ophilia nodded slowly at that, doing her best to convince herself Alfyn was telling the truth. She didn't doubt him at all, but the spy was another matter entirely and an entirely separate headache she didn't know how to deal with. "Yeah... It can't be that bad," she agreed. "If we just stick to the plan, then they'll fall right into the trap. It'll be easy."

~~~~~

As it turned out, luring the spy into a trap was much easier said than done. 

The travelers split up according to Therion's suggestions, doing their best to set up the perfect storm to corner their pursuer and finally get a few answers out of them after all this time. Unfortunately, their schemes ultimately fell short, and their stalker never came out of the shadows long enough to be caught in the first place. In fact, it seemed as if they knew better than to take the bait at all. Cyrus consistently felt eyes watching his every move, but he couldn't figure out just where they were coming from. Each time he tried to figure out where the spy was hiding in the crowd, he couldn't quite pick them out, and they were gone just as quickly. He could only imagine they were experienced in this line of work of quietly gathering information from afar given how stubbornly they refused to be caught and pressed for their secrets. 

After a long day of shuffling around the town, the travelers were left thoroughly exhausted from their failed attempts at catching their pursuer. They had been mostly quiet throughout their drifting hours in Stonegard, nobody wanting to say anything too incriminating in case the spy overheard it and decided to use it to their advantage. To say their first day in Stonegard had been unsuccessful would have been a drastic understatement. Cyrus couldn't help but itch for progress after how long they had spent trying to gain the upper hand only to fall short each and every time. 

Tressa rubbed at her eyes as she came to a stop just outside of the inn, and Cyrus, Ophilia, and Alfyn approached her from the opposite direction. The other four travelers were with her, and all of them were in varying degrees of bad moods. Olberic looked as if he hadn't slept in ages, Primrose seemed ready to stab someone who looked at her wrong, H'aanit was resisting the urge to sigh in muted irritation, and Therion was angrier than the rest of the travelers had seen him in a long time. They had gone into all of this with a plan, but it hadn't meant much when faced with the expertise of whoever was tailing them. What did it matter if they came up with a strategy to catch their stalker if the person in question was too smart to fall for their tricks? 

"I guess we should call it for the day," Tressa muttered as she looked at the rest of the group. "I don't like just leaving this alone, but we didn't find anything all day. I don't think we're going to get much done when we're tired this way anyways."

"I am inclined to agree," Olberic nodded carefully. "We have a long investigation ahead of ourselves after we can defeat this spy, and it would be in our best interests to be ready to face whatever it is they wish to send in our direction."

"At this rate, it seems like we're going to have to start our investigation tomorrow no matter what we want to do," Primrose hummed to herself. "I don't want to think we're going to end up being followed while we search for the truth, but I know better than to believe it'll be that easy."

"I would tell everyone to stop talking about the spy in case they're still watching, but I don't think it matters. They knew we knew going into this, and they were careful to not do anything that could get them in trouble," Therion sighed. "One way or another, they're going to reveal themselves on their own terms. We just have to wait for them to strike."

"I think it would be for the best if we turned in for the night," Alfyn suggested. He resisted the urge to rub his eyes as well, though he wound up yawning regardless. "We're all tired, and we participated in a long and hard battle yesterday. A single night of sleep isn't going to cure the utter thrashin' we received from Dreisang and then the dragon back in Stillsnow."

"We will be more alert if we continue our search for the spy in the morning," Cyrus chimed in. "As it stands, we will only invite catastrophe if we try to investigate in our current states."

"Rest it is then," Ophilia concluded. She glanced around at the rest of the party once again, sighing along the way. "I have a bad feeling about this... But I guess we're kind of out of options at this point."

"I'll see you all tomorrow then," Alfyn declared. He offered a haphazard wave over his shoulder before he started to walk into the inn, every step a heavy drag against the cobbled stones below. Therion followed him a few seconds later, too tired and irritated with his failure to even bother with waving to the rest of the group. 

From there, it was only a matter of minutes until the rest of the travelers had gone their separate ways within the inn, branching off into the four rooms they had claimed for the night in their predetermined pairs as per usual. Cyrus opened the door for Olberic before gesturing inside so he could go in first. Olberic offered him a grateful nod as he followed Cyrus' instructions, leaving the scholar to pull the door closed behind them. 

Once Cyrus was left alone with Olberic, he couldn't help but frown as he watched the warrior remove his blade for the night, albeit very hesitantly. "Is something the matter, Olberic?" Cyrus questioned. "You seemed rather distracted when we were speaking with the others outside."

Olberic was quiet for a moment before he let out a weary sigh. "I must admit that I have been distracted today," he confessed. He paused once again as he turned to face Cyrus. "As bizarre as this is going to sound... I had a dream last night that told of calamity today."

"A dream?" Cyrus echoed, his eyes going wide. He sat down on his bed carefully, watching Olberic all the while. 

Olberic sighed once more, clearly choosing every word as carefully as possible. "For many years, I have had dreams that seem to act as warnings of tragedy and danger," he murmured. "Just before something terrible happens, I see a vision of horrible things in my dreams. Last night... The same happened. I had been hoping it would turn out to be a regular nightmare rather than an ill omen, but..."

"We arrived in Stonegard to find ourselves being followed by the spy from Quarrycrest," Cyrus finished for him, and Olberic nodded. "Beyond that, we were unable to find the one responsible, and we must proceed with that uncertainty in mind."

"Precisely," Olberic confirmed. "I would like to leave this in the past and never need to consider it again, but I know this will not be quite so simple. Whoever this spy is... They are waiting for us, and they have no intentions of holding back. We must stay on our guard, and we cannot let them get the best of us."

"How should we go about handling this?" Cyrus questioned, leaning forward slightly as he spoke. "We spent much of the day trying to set up a trap for them to fall into, but it did not work as we would have liked. We cannot spend too much of our time dancing around our investigation either. That may provoke the spy into striking if their aim is assassination."

"I admittedly do not know," Olberic told him with a shake of his head. "I always preferred a more direct line of work when it came to defeating my foes. This is out of my field of expertise, and if not even Therion's plan could work, then I doubt the rest of us will be able to suggest much of anything to help."

Cyrus thought about it for a moment, but he found himself unable to come up with anything of note. He sighed and shook his head. He had never been any good at working on little sleep, and that remained true even now. He needed some time to sleep before he could come up with a plan for what to do from there. "We should think about this more in the morning," Cyrus suggested. "I cannot say I am comfortable with the idea of sleeping as we are right now, but we should exercise caution and handle this once we have rested. We won't be able to help ourselves at all if we're exhausted."

Olberic nodded, though there was clearly another fear plaguing him. If Cyrus had to guess, he would have assumed it had something to do with Olberic's dream from the night before. He truly thought whatever he had seen in the night was an ill omen of what was to come later in the day. Nothing of note had happened during the day, and while that was part of the problem, it was a relief all the same. It should have been a sign that they would be alright. Nothing had happened, so they were fine. That was what Cyrus wanted to believe, at the very least. As for if he could actually hold stock in it... Well, only time would be able to tell in that regard. 

"I believe we will be fine," Cyrus assured Olberic. "The spy has not struck yet, and they need to sleep as well. If they did nothing throughout the day when we were split up as perfect prey, then I suppose they have decided to do something else for the night. Besides, your dream could have simply been an omen about the spy being here at all. We will be alright."

Olberic didn't seem to believe it, at least not entirely, but he still forced himself to nod. "Yes... You're right," he murmured, more trying to convince himself than Cyrus. He shook his head after another moment of thought. "You must be right. Perhaps my exhaustion is getting to me more than I want to admit. We need to sleep. We can think more about the morning after we have rested to reach it."

"Precisely," Cyrus nodded. He pulled back the covers of his bed with a light smile. "Goodnight, Olberic."

The warrior offered him a hum. "Goodnight, Cyrus."

~~~~~

Olberic could still see it. 

The day Hornburg fell played out behind his eyelids once again, and his dream incarnation resisted the urge to sigh. Every detail was etched in Olberic's mind even all these years later. He was used to seeing this phantom, but he still grew weary of it as time went on. How could anyone be alright with seeing this each and every night? He did not know the answer, though if he was being honest, it did not matter. He did not have a say in what his mind offered him when he slept, and he never would. 

The moment before Olberic was frozen. Erhardt raised his blade high above his head, his expression dark and filled with a greed and hatred Olberic could never even begin to understand. Erhardt's blade gleamed in the muted sunshine of the day as it prepared to fall upon the king's body. Olberic just stared ahead, wishing he could have done something. His body refused to move though, and even if it had, it would not have been enough. Erhardt would have still killed the king, and Olberic would have been too late. That was how it always had been. 

Olberic couldn't help but stare at Erhardt tonight though, and he noticed a few off details about this dream compared to the others. Erhardt was frozen, not moving even though Olberic knew he should have been trying to kill King Alfred. In fact, Erhardt should have dropped the blade long ago. It would have been so damn easy... So why was he hesitating?

Before Olberic had the chance to find the reason, he was met with a glare of sunlight that temporarily stole his vision. When his eyesight returned, Erhardt's sword had transformed into a dagger, and it wasn't even Erhardt holding it anymore. Instead, the blade was being grasped by the hooded figure Olberic had seen in the shadows of Quarrycrest. That uncomfortable feeling of being watched hit Olberic like a pile of bricks, and he found himself struggling to stay on his feet despite his knowledge that it was only a dream. He was fine. There was no one there. How could he be in danger when this was just something his mind had conjured up? It was a figment of his imagination, so why was he--

King Alfred was no longer the man Olberic had once served so dutifully either, something the warrior realized when he looked down at the ground before his feet. Instead, the man was a hazy outline of gray that was slowly but surely coming into focus, though Olberic couldn't figure out just who it was yet. His instincts urged him to figure it out, to put those last few pieces together so he could understand what was happening, but he still couldn't come close. He didn't understand any of it. He was so close. He could feel it. So why couldn't he--

The sword--dagger--blade--finally fell--

"Olberic!"

~~~~~

The sound of a distorted voice stirred Olberic from slumber, though he couldn't tell if it had come from the target in his dream or from the world of the waking. He groaned as he pushed himself up into a seated position, rubbing at the side of his head along the way. He had a pounding migraine, and beyond that, his temple was soaking from sweat. Olberic blinked a few times as he got a grip on where he was once again. Stonegard. Highlands. Town inn. 

That was right. The travelers had come through town to try and learn who was responsible for the experimentation. Their investigation hadn't worked out the way they would have liked though since they had been followed all day, and they couldn't lure the culprit into a trap to get the truth out of them. More importantly, Olberic realized, it was still the middle of the night. The candle at the center of the room had been extinguished, and no sunlight streamed in through the window nearby. On the other side of the inn room, Cyrus was sound asleep, his cheek pressed carefully against the pillow of his bed. He hadn't been stirred by Olberic's brush with nighttime phantoms, it seemed. Olberic thanked the gods for their mercies as he let out a sigh and leaned back into his bed. 

The warrior could already tell he wasn't going to be getting back to sleep any time soon. Usually, his nightmares of the day Hornburg fell at least had the decency to wait until after he had gotten a few hours of rest. The only time he ever saw dreams this early in the night was if they were omens of some sort. Others could call him superstitious all they wanted for believing in things like that, but he knew what he had been through. The dreams were whispers of something awful to come. He had to be ready to face whatever they were bringing to him. That was the purpose of it all. 

Luckily, Olberic was wide awake and prepared as could be. He was exhausted, yes, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again any time soon. He might as well take advantage of his dream to stay awake and alert in case anything else happened. Olberic had wanted to believe Cyrus was right when he said there was nothing else awful waiting in their future, but he was starting to doubt it, and Olberic really hated having to admit that. 

Olberic stared up at the ceiling of his room for a long time, not seeing out of the ordinary and taking this time to work through his own woes. It was going to be a while before he was able to travel to Wellspring to try and talk with Erhardt about everything that happened so many years ago, but the suspense was already agonizing for Olberic. It hadn't been that long since he first left behind Victors Hollow, but he was still thinking about Erhardt nearly constantly. He couldn't somehow speed along the group's plans to go and visit Wellspring since they were still waiting for the black market to be set up so Therion could steal the dragonstone. In the meantime, Olberic was left completely helpless and well beyond frustrated by it. Why couldn't the gods just smile down on him for a short while? The wait was agonizing, and it had only just barely begun. 

Olberic still didn't know what he was going to end up saying or doing when he saw Erhardt again, and that only made his anxiety worse. He wanted to reach out to Erhardt and understand why he had done so much to bring Hornburg to its knees. He wanted to share everything he had learned from Gustav about the tragedy that had marked Erhardt's younger years. He wanted to finally have someone in his life who he could love like family again. 

But at the same time, Olberic wanted to slap him across the face with rage over how Hornburg had fallen. He wanted to never see Erhardt again and never be given a reason to go back to that damned desert. He wanted to finally get his revenge against the man who had taken so much from him. The void in Olberic's chest would finally fill up if he did something to finally push Erhardt away forever... Right? He had been sitting there with his own pain for long enough by this point, and he was willing to take anything that would finally give him peace again. He was exhausted, but there was nothing he could do about it until he arrived in Wellspring, and that would be along time off. 

But more importantly, Olberic had other duties to take care of until then. The investigation in Stonegard was going to start the following day whether they were all ready for it or not, and even though they were being followed around by a spy, they had to get it over with eventually. They wouldn't be able to avoid their search for the truth forever, and even if they left Stonegard and came back later, that wouldn't solve the problem. The spy wasn't going to be pushed way, and Olberic knew better than to believe it would be that easy. The best he could do was look after the rest of the travelers and make sure they were protected from the grasp of the spy who so desperately wanted to bring them to their knees. It wasn't much, but he had to try. Olberic wouldn't let anything bad happen to them. His dreams were a sign of something awful on the horizon, but he would be ready for it. As long as he could face the spy with his blade in hand, then he would be able to defend them. 

That was when Olberic heard the doorknob rattle. 

He went stiff in his bed immediately out of pure instinct. Olberic knew he had locked the door before he laid down for the night, particularly paranoid tonight about having anyone walk in while the travelers were resting. He had resisted the urge to board up the window too, only not following through with it when he realized they were on the second floor and that any potential attackers would have quite a few obstacles in their way if they wanted to sneak in through that direction. 

As it turned out though, any spies that wanted to come through were set to choose a more direct approach. The doorknob shifted in its place for a few more seconds before going still, but Olberic could see a shadow cast beneath the door even so. There was a dim light out in the hallway, and the glow illuminated the hazy outline of a person. A person who was trying to break into Olberic and Cyrus' room. 

Olberic heard the vague clicking of the person attempting to pick the lock on the door, and his eyes flickered around the room desperately. On one hand, he wanted to confront the attacker head on, but on the other, he knew this could have been the perfect trap to catch the spy off guard. All he had to do was get himself in a position to restrain them from behind, and he would be able to get the information he sought out of them. With that in mind, Olberic reached for a spare knife he had been given by Therion after the thief upgraded to the dagger from Aeber. Olberic tucked the blade under his pillow and laid back down...

Just in time for the door to creak open. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So... That's one hell of a cliffhanger, huh? Yup.

This chapter is pretty deep in the Digital lore of Octopath fic honestly. If you've read my other Octopath stuff, then you might know where this is going... But for the rest of you, just be patient until next week, and everything will come falling into place.

In the meantime, we have to talk about this chapter. So... The plan to catch the spy didn't work. I'm sure most of you assumed it wasn't going to be quite so easy. I was admittedly originally planning on having the opening segment with the groups split up take up this entire chapter, but I thought that would mess with the pacing too much, especially since they all admit nothing much of note happened. Instead, it wound up getting condensed to the first half of the chapter, and we get to end off on a terrible cliffhanger instead. Woohoo!

The Olberic dream thing is a little tidbit that gets mentioned in travel banter... Somewhere? I actually don't know where. I can't remember, but it's there. I mentioned it way earlier on in the story when he was first introduced, but here it is again. He's having an awful time... But he's awake just in time for someone to break into his inn room, so that has to count for something, right? I sure hope so.

Next week, we're going to pick up with the strange person in the inn room. Until then, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is appreciated as always. Have a nice day, everyone!

-Digital