After the travelers found their way back to Wellspring, they decided to split up to prepare for the black market auction. Therion seemed to believe the auction wouldn't be starting until the next day so the vendors had time to prepare themselves for the upcoming sales now that the lizardmen were out of the picture. As such, they all had the afternoon and evening to prepare for their trip into the black market the following day. 

Olberic wanted to take this time to think. He knew he would have to address the travelers' situation sooner rather than later, but he wasn't quite certain of how he was meant to put it into words. They all needed to talk to one another, but Olberic was hardly a man of speech. He and Erhardt had worked out their long-running issues through clashing swords, and that was a much more comfortable method of communication for Olberic. How could he figure out what to tell his friends when he wasn't one for telling anything?

Olberic ultimately settled on sitting on a bench that overlooked the oasis as he sifted through his thoughts. His reflection stared back at him in the water, and Olberic did his best to avoid meeting his own gaze. It would only unsettle him, he was certain. Olberic was much more comfortable with himself now than he had been a few weeks ago, but that didn't mean he knew what to say where others were concerned. It would have been much easier if they could just understand one anoather through combat, but instead, it seemed like combat only seemed to reveal their issues rather than fix them. That was what Balogar had implied at the very least. 

Tressa's reflection appeared behind Olberic in the water, and he turned around to see her standing behind him, her hands pressed together behind her back. There was a bright smile on her face, and Olberic couldn't help grinning back at her when he saw it. "You look pleased."

"I'm happy you and Erhardt made up," Tressa replied as she took an easy seat beside him. "Now you're comrades-in-arms again!" 

Olberic nodded. He didn't know if he and Erhardt would ever be able to go back to the way they once had been, but they didn't necessarily need to. As long as they worked to make things better, everything would be alright. That was all that seemed to mater. "It was a long road to reach such a point... But fighters are straightforward men, and they understand each other," he told her. "Crossing swords just once can tell me more about another than a thousand words."

"Wow... That sounds incredible!" Tressa deflated in the reflection of the water. "I wish it was that easy to get everyone else to talk to each other." She kicked one foot against the sand, sending a small pebble rolling closer to the water's edge. "It seems like no one wants to be honest about how they're feeling. Balogar was right about us having problems, but how can we fix them when no one knows how to acknowledge it?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Olberic confessed. "I want to be able to help them, but... I fear I don't know how." It would have been so much simpler if they could fight until they understood one another. As it stood, Olberic didn't know how to sift through Primrose's guilt and grief over Simeon. He didn't know how to break through the defenses Alfyn had built after fighting Miguel. He didn't know how to talk to Therion or even to figure out what was wrong with him in the first place. The world felt like it was crumbling... And Olberic wished he knew how to fix it. 

Tressa pressed a smile across her face again. "But we're going to find a way to make it work," she declared. "If you and Erhardt can make up after everything you went through, then I know we'll be able to make everything right with the others too. All we have to do is try." She looked up to Olberic, and he met her gaze. "Are you with me?"

Olberic allowed himself a small smile, and he nodded. "Always."

~~~~~

H'aanit knew many things about the world. 

It was a gift she had been granted through the teachings of Z'aanta. He was nothing if not knowledgeable about the world. Whether that was a good thing or not had been debated hotly between them many times, but at the end of the day, H'aanit knew she could always place her faith in him. He would guide her true, and H'aanit would do everything she could to set him straight too. They were opposites, but that was what helped them to understand one another so well. They were everything the other was not, and that was exactly how they liked it. 

Unfortunately, there was one thing Z'aanta had never quite been able to teach H'aanit: how to interact with people. She had tried many times to learn more about how to understand the hearts of those around her, but it always fell short. H'aanit had thought the travelers to be kind people, but she had never looked any deeper than that. Humans were out of her reach. She knew beasts and how to capture them. H'aanit understood Linde far better than she ever had another person, and she had loved it. 

But these days, H'aanit found herself wondering just what made people behave the way they did. Miguel was a cruel man who wanted to tear apart those around him for his own personal gain. He hurt everyone he met so long as it would benefit him, and Alfyn and H'aanit had helped him to hurt another. They hadn't known it at the time, but did that even matter? They had still done something horrible, and H'aanit was still learning how to forgive herself for it. Realistically, she knew she could not blame herself for something she did not understand. She could not have known it would end the way it did, and so, she needed to forgive herself for it. 

But all of that seemed to melt out of her mind the instant she saw Therion. He had been much quieter ever since the battle against Miguel, and if not for his injuries, H'aanit feared he would have tried to run out on them. She had kept a careful eye on him as a result, always waiting for the moment she would need to use her superior strength to ensure he stayed. H'aanit was skilled at capturing beasts, but people were another matter entirely, and Therion was perhaps the greatest mystery of them all. 

Therion staying with the travelers was strange to H'aanit in ways she could not quite describe. He had been pushing the rest of the group away for as long as he could stand it, never letting anyone get close enough to hear him tell the truth about what had prompted him to act this way... But he hadn't run away either. It would have been so easy to walk away and know he would never be bothered again. Isolation could have been his closest companion, but he never reached for it. He was just close enough to feel the light of the travelers' friendship on his face, but he was never any nearer than that. 

As was to be expected, Therion had gone off on his own after the battle against the lizardmen ended. He did not leave Wellspring out of some sentimentality H'aanit did not understand when it came from him, but she was not disappointed in the slightest. Instead, she just found her way over to him where he was sitting on a rock near the edge of town. Therion watched the desert sands blow apathetically as he ate an apple H'aanit couldn't remember him stealing. Then again, when had she ever noticed Therion taking something during the act?

"How art thou feeling, Therion?" H'aanit asked slowly, not wanting to scare him. He didn't stir at all when he heard the question, though H'aanit supposed she shouldn't have expected anything else. He had already figured out she was there long before she said anything. If anyone else had proven themselves to be entirely unbothered by the happenings of the world around them, it was Therion... Well, that was what he tried to make it seem like, but H'aanit knew the truth was much darker than that regardless of if Therion was willing to admit it or not. 

"Fine," was all Therion said before he took another bite of his apple. H'aanit had to wonder where he had even found the apple in the first place, but she doubted she would get an answer. Therion was a man of many mysteries, and trying to understand them all was oftentimes a failing effort. 

H'aanit hesitated before she sat beside him. "Thou doth not need to putten up a front," H'aanit told him. "If thou art hurting, then thou shouldst sayen so. Keeping it hidden will not helpen in the slightest."

Therion let out a thin, frustrated sigh before shaking his head. "I'm fine," he reiterated. "I just don't want to talk about it. We don't have time to talk about it. We need to focus on the black market. Tomorrow will be our only chance to get that damn gemstone. The lizardmen are the only reason it's not already out of our reach."

H'aanit wanted to argue the point since she knew that was not exactly the truth, but she could already tell Therion would not hear her out. Instead, she just nodded along, hoping her agreement would give him at least some ideas as to how he could trust her. H'aanit couldn't bring herself to dance around the subject for long, and she shook her head. "I am worried about thou," she confessed. "Thou hast been so secretive and quiet ever since we foughten Miguel. Did something happen during that battle? Thou knowen thou can talken about it, yes?"

"I can talk about whatever I want to talk about," Therion countered. "I just don't want to talk about this." His grip on the apple went tight before he forced himself to take a bite of it, no doubt so he wouldn't end up squeezing it to a pulp then and there. 

H'aanit swallowed down the rest of her nerves about approaching unfamiliar territory with Therion before forcing herself to speak again. "Thou confusen me, Therion," she confessed, and Therion cast her something that looked somewhat like a glare. "Thou had every opportunity to walken away. If thou truly wanted so little to do with the rest of us after the battle with Miguel, then thou couldst have left. Thou had many chances... And yet, thou didst not."

Therion opened his mouth to counter that before he cut himself off with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head. "It doesn't matter," he muttered. "I'm here because of that damn deal with House Ravus. If not for that, then--"

"That is not true," H'aanit interrupted, and Therion glared up at her again. "Didst thou thinken I wouldst not noticen? Thou art a thief of the highest caliber. If thou wanteth too, then thou couldst easily picken the lock on the fool's bangle. It is not indestructible... Thou hath not been as trapped as thou wanten us to believe. Why is that? Why keepen up the lie?"

Therion had started shaking at some point during this conversation, but he couldn't bring himself to speak despite his clearly desperate desire to do so. H'aanit decided to fill the silence for him. "I believen thou wanten to stay here. Thou loven being around the rest of us... And thou doth not want to leave," H'aanit said for him. "That is the truth, is it not?"

Therion let out another heavy sigh and pushed himself to his feet. "I can do what I want," he protested weakly. He took another bite of his apple even though the new darkness in his eyes told H'aanit that eating was the last thing he wanted to think about doing at the moment. 

"Then doen it," H'aanit challenged. "Doen what thou wanten to doen most... No matter where it may leaden thou."

Therion remained stiff for a few seconds longer before he shook his head and walked away. However, he did not retreat into the swirling sands outside of Wellspring. Instead, he was just going back to his inn room. There was no purpose to his steps, so H'aanit was certain he wasn't going to gather his things so he could take flight when he thought none of the travelers were paying attention. Therion was going to stay there with them the same way he had throughout the rest of the journey. He may have been terrified for undisclosed reasons after everything that happened in Saintsbridge, but he was not using it as a reason to walk away. Therion didn't want to walk away. He was right where he thought he belonged, and even when the world presented him with challenges to push his convictions to their limits, he would remain there. Therion belonged with the travelers, and he would stay with them for as long as they would stay with him in return. 

It may not have been much, but Therion knew it was a step in the right direction. H'aanit allowed herself a small smile in Therion's direction before she took a step on the ledge Therion had been sitting on moments prior. Linde sat beside her, leaning over to receive as much attention from H'aanit as she could squeeze out. The snow leopard was hardly fond of the warmer conditions, and she was using it as the perfect excuse to get all the love she could from her hunting partner. Luckily for Linde, H'aanit was more than happy to pass out all the affection in the world. As she stroked at the snow leopard's face, H'aanit knew she had done the right thing. Therion may have hated her for it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. That was exactly what Therion had needed, and he knew it just as well as she did. Regardless of how long it took him to wake up to the truth, she would be there for him. Therion knew it too. 

And at the end of the day, that was all that really mattered. 

~~~~~

All things considered, Erhardt was in pretty good shape. 

Alfyn had pulled him away to receive medical attention after his duel with Olberic. Erhardt had taken quite a few heavy blows, but he was still managing the pain rather well, and he even had the strength to almost argue with Alfyn about extending him this kindness. Erhardt didn't know Alfyn enough to push the point though, so rather than insist that he didn't deserve this after all he had done, he let his tongue fall still as Alfyn worked away at him. 

Alfyn didn't want to hear Erhardt's protests anyway. It didn't matter to him how many times Erhardt insisted that he didn't deserve treatment. Alfyn knew the people of Wellspring would need him, and that was enough for him... Or so he wanted to believe. There was still a nagging voice in the back of his mind that asked him to listen to Erhardt and just not treat his injuries. What if this turned into yet another situation like with Miguel? What if treating Erhardt would only hurt more people than it would help? Would Alfyn be able to keep himself held together if he made that fatal mistake a second time? He didn't know, and he didn't want to test the question either. It would have just been too cruel. 

"Alright," Alfyn said thickly as he took a step back to admire his handiwork. Erhardt was in much better condition now thanks to a combination of healing magic and Alfyn's medical training. "That'll do 'er."

Erhardt looked down at his bandaged arm with a distant nod. "Thanks," he whispered. He barely seemed to be able to believe that he had been healed in the first place, but he refused to say as much out loud. Somehow, it felt like a betrayal to admit. "I appreciate it."

Alfyn stared at Erhardt for a few more heavy seconds, unable to decide if he should speak up or stay quiet. Both options were poor for entirely different reasons, and Alfyn hated it. There was a part of him that wanted to ask if Erhardt regretted what he had done, but he already knew the answer. Erhardt wished every day he hadn't been manipulated into destroying Hornburg. It had been his greatest mistake, and in some other world, it could have been his downfall too. In many ways, it already had been. 

Alfyn couldn't ask that. He wanted to, but he couldn't do it. Instead, he swallowed around the knot in his throat and found something else to fill the silence with. "What are you goin' to do after this?" Alfyn asked. "The lizardmen should stay out of your hair from now on. The new oasis Phili set up should be enough to deter them for a while."

Erhardt hesitated before shrugging, the motion jerky but somehow not exacerbating any of his injuries. "I'm not sure," he confessed. "I need to stay here though. I won't know if the people of Wellspring need my help unless I'm here. I can't just walk away from that."

Alfyn hummed, and he wished he could have been so certain about his own purpose. He had healed Erhardt out of obligation more than anything else, but that shouldn't have been his reason. It didn't feel right for a healer to not want to help others. That was the entire reason he had decided to start training to become an apothecary. Alfyn needed to want to do it... But he didn't know if he would ever want to do this again, not with so many questions rattling against his mind. 

"What did it feel like?" Alfyn questioned before he could stop himself. Every voice in his mind was telling him to stop and not interrogate this point, but he couldn't keep his tongue still no matter how hard he tried. "When you killed the king of Hornburg... What was it like?"

Even Erhardt was surprised by the question, but he didn't express any sense of discomfort. If anything, he seemed to think the question was his price to pay after all he had done. He needed to be honest because he had missed out on so many other chances to help other people in the past. "I... I thought it would make everything go away," Erhardt began slowly. "I was certain it would fix it all. If he was dead, then I would finally be able to avenge the people who were lost in Grynd... But it didn't happen that way. When I killed him, I felt... Nothing. After that, I was angry, but it wasn't at him. I was mad at myself. Destroying Hornburg wasn't an equal punishment for Grynd's fall. I wanted to help those who had suffered the same way I had, but in the end... All I did was visit upon them the same ruin that had destroyed me."

Alfyn nodded slowly, his muscles threatening to freeze on him entirely. Erhardt regretted what he had done. He wished he hadn't killed the king of Hornburg... And Alfyn wished he hadn't killed either. If he was forced to, he knew he would make the same decision, but that was perhaps the worst part of it all. Erhardt had been a distant opponent for months. Everyone had learned to think of him with distaste because of Olberic's words, but the fact of the matter was that Erhardt was every bit as complicated as Alfyn or any of the other travelers. At least Erhardt had the decency to regret what he had done. At least he had the thought for his victim to believe he could have made a different choice. 

But when Alfyn remembered that day in the forest near Saintsbridge, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would have made the same decision. If Miguel had grabbed any of the other travelers again, Alfyn would have rushed toward him with his axe in hand. If Miguel had gone after another child, Alfyn would know what he had to do. It was barely even a question at all... And Alfyn wished it had been a decision. Why were there no other options for him? How horrible was he to not think there was a better outcome for him or Miguel?

The door opened before Erhardt could ask Alfyn why he was so intent on hearing the answer to that question. Alfyn already knew who it would be before he looked up, and sure enough, Olberic greeted him in the doorway. "How is he doing?" Olberic asked, glancing over to Erhardt with a muted, unreadable frown. 

"Fine, Olberic," Erhardt replied with a wave of his hand. "I just need a bit of rest." He couldn't seem to decide if he was more relieved or nervous to have Olberic there, and Alfyn didn't know if he could decide either. Somehow, Olberic walking in on his conversation with Erhardt made Alfyn feel like he had been caught while he was doing something he shouldn't have ever considered. It wasn't the first time he had been discovered in the middle of something forbidden, and Alfyn already knew it wouldn't be the last. 

"I suppose we should leave you to it then," Olberic remarked, and Erhardt nodded. Something like distant tenderness rose in Olberic's eyes, but it was difficult to see just how deep that affection ran. "We'll speak again soon, Erhardt. Until then, rest well." 

Olberic started for the door, and Alfyn found himself following. Erhardt seemed to relax as soon as he was alone, but Alfyn said nothing on the matter. He wouldn't have heard the truth from Erhardt even if he wanted to. There was no truth Erhardt could give him that would make this any easier to face. Miguel and Erhardt were entirely different beasts, and while that calmed Alfyn's rampant nerves slightly, it would not eliminate them entirely. He would need to face his demons on his own, and no villains or king slayers of years past would fix that. 

"Are you alright, Alfyn?" Olberic asked, and the apothecary knew he had been caught long before Olberic ever entered the inn room. "I can tell something is on your mind." At least Olberic was kind enough to not outright say it was about Miguel. It was a small mercy, but it was one Alfyn appreciated even so. He didn't think he would have been able to handle a direct conversation about it before he talked himself up to it. 

Alfyn wanted to push Olberic away and insist that everything was fine. It would have been so easy... But despite his best efforts, he just couldn't do it. "I... I don't know," he confessed, hating how raw his honesty sounded. "I wish things could have ended differently." He didn't say he was talking about Saintsbridge, but he didn't need to. Olberic already knew that was the truth he was conveniently avoiding at all costs. 

Olberic nodded slowly, working through his words like a miner trying to search for diamonds among debris. Eventually, he seemed to strike gold, but he revealed it slowly. "If there's one thing I have learned from our time here in Wellspring... It is that life is very rarely black and white," he told Alfyn slowly. "For a long time, I thought fighting Erhardt would make everything better. I thought that killing him would give me the purpose I was deprived of when Hornburg fell... But now, I see that would have never worked. I needed a chance to find peace, and in reaching for that... I needed to understand that Erhardt is not only the villain or the hero I made him out to be. He is both, and addressing him as such is important."

Alfyn stared down at his hands and bit his bottom lip. He didn't think Miguel was a villain and a hero at the same time. In fact, he was almost certain Miguel was exclusively a villain... But that said nothing of Alfyn's own goals. Perhaps he was wrong to think of the situation with Miguel as entirely black and white. The fact of the matter was that he couldn't have known what Miguel would do after he was healed. Alfyn had been forced to kill him, but regardless of what he decided that day, he would have led to Miguel's downfall. 

Alfyn knew it wasn't exactly Miguel that had him caught up in his own thoughts. It was a coincidence more than anything else. Alfyn was most upset about having been forced to kill another human being. Miguel was the one who had wound up with the axe between his shoulder blades, but Alfyn would have doubted himself regardless of who he had wound up murdering. It wasn't a question of if he had done the right thing against Miguel specifically; he instead wondered if it was alright to raise a hand to any other human being. 

Olberic's hand came down on Alfyn's shoulder, and the apothecary looked up to meet his gaze perhaps against his own will. "Life is not as simple as we want it to be," Olberic went on. "You may not see yourself as a hero for what you did, but I don't think you're a villain either. You did what you thought was right at the time, and if you learned later on that your judgement was wrong... That is hardly something you can hold against yourself. Why is it a burden for you to bear when you did not know how it would end?"

"I... I don't know," Alfyn murmured. His honesty felt like a poison to his tongue, but he did his best to swallow it back. "I... I don't want to have to hurt anyone ever again. I don't know how I can heal people if I know they're goin' to end up hurtin' others after I'm finished with them. It doesn't feel right."

"Miguel was not the same as the others we have faced," Olberic insisted. "He killed for the sake of it. You had to stop him in order to save others from dying at his hands. You don't hold Morlock's death against Ophilia. I know you do not. So why are you so insistent on holding this against yourself when you had no way of knowing how it would end?"

Alfyn wanted to come up with a strong response to that, but he just couldn't pull the words to life. He swallowed dryly, all of a sudden feeling like his body had become part of the very desert that surrounded him. "I... I don't know," he repeated. Alfyn knew there were differences between what he had done and what he knew Miguel would have done if he was given the chance to continue fighting. He didn't go out and kill people for the sake of it. In the past, the travelers had been forced to kill others in order to liberate those who were suffering. Miguel was a monster, and Alfyn knew it. The same applied to Rufus, Albus, Morlock, and every other person they had ever thought of killing. There was no realistic parallel to be drawn between all of them and the choice Alfyn had made in Saintsbridge that day, but he didn't know how he could convince himself of that. 

Olberic's fingers tightened around Alfyn's shoulder. "I cannot say I have all the answers that will make this easier for you," he started. "But I can promise that if you ever need someone to lean on or talk to about all of this... I would be more than happy to offer my services. All of you have done more for me than I could ever hope to say. The least I can do is return the favor." 

Alfyn didn't know why that was the last knock his defenses could take, but he rushed into Olberic's arms before he could stop himself. Tears rose in his eyes and fell in furious rivers down his cheeks, but Olberic said nothing on the matter. Instead, he just pulled Alfyn in a little bit closer. For the first time in ages, Alfyn thought he remembered what safety meant. It didn't need to come in the name of spilling the blood of others. Sometimes, just turning to those who were willing to shelter him from the storm. Death was a forgotten beast, and even though it hung heavily over the embrace, Alfyn knew he could finally start to outrun it for the first time since Saintsbridge. 

If this conversation had proven anything to Alfyn, it was that he needed to talk to Primrose as soon as possible. She was the one who had bothered Alfyn the most when he began to spiral over Miguel. He had wondered how he could spend time with killers and thieves in good conscience, and now... Alfyn still didn't know if he had an answer, but he knew Primrose would be the best person to turn to if he was to understand the truth. He didn't know if he would ever be able to face Therion after what had happened in Saintsbridge, but he could at least talk to Primrose. Maybe he would have the answers he needed to talk to Therion afterward too. It was something to hope for if nothing else. 

Alfyn didn't move away from Olberic immediately though. He instead let himself remain firm against Olberic's chest, hoping that when he pulled away, he would be able to take that sense of security with him when he left. Alfyn sincerely doubted it, but he was willing to hope for the first time in weeks. 

And somehow, that hope was all that mattered. 

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

Wow... Things are finally starting to get better. 

After the travelers have been on a firm downward spiral for ages, they're finally starting to come out of the darkness. Olberic's chapter three is a dark one, yes, but it's a point of light for the cast. I've been looking forward to it for ages for this exact reason. The characters are getting closer to pulling themselves together again, and strangely enough, it all started with Erhardt.

I especially loved writing the scene with Olberic, Erhardt, and Alfyn near the end of the chapter. It's just a good one, and it's an important note of progress for all of the characters involved. They're taking steps toward their greater goals, and I'm very happy they are. They've more than earned it. They're not done growing yet, but they're making progress even so.

Looking forward, we've got three more chapters of aftermath from Olberic's chapter three before we get into Therion's third chapter and then Ophilia's chapter three. I estimate that we'll be wrapping up the chapter threes at some point around the 180-182 chapter mark. We'll have to see where we end up there specifically, but we're making progress if nothing else.

Next time, we'll continue on with the aftermath of Olberic's third chapter. Until then, I hope you all enjoyed this chpater. Feedback is appreciated as always.Have a nice day, everyone!

-Digital