✨SACRED LIGHT✨

          ❝ you better watch your tone or i’ll tell god you’re bullying me. ❞

All things considered, the thought coming from Ophilia’s mouth did fluster him a little. He stifled any kneejerk reaction, though. It was just a joke, surely- she’d followed it with a laugh after all. And it wasn’t like there was any harm, anyway. The assumptions were innocuous, and she hadn’t seemed put off enough by them to distance herself from them.

And apparently she had just been worried about him losing his way, anyhow. Which he did honestly appreciate- he was grateful that she’d been mindful of his small town upbringing, honestly. It was kind.

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, I ain’t upset. I’ve just never had anyone make a joke about me havin’ a girlfriend or anything like that.”

He gazed around looking for a good way out of the crowded marketplace and pulled them through a small gap. “See, nobody in my hometown ever thought I was anything like…you know…boyfriend material. I only ever asked anyone out once, and got laughed at.”

His smile was wry, “They apologized later once they realized they’d hurt me, ‘course. But I can’t blame them. Scruffy fellow like me doesn’t match well with much of anybody, I guess.”

“Oh? I find that unlikely.”

She glanced over the entirety of Alfyn. He wasn’t the most stunning of men, but he wasn’t ugly either. He had a simple face that accompanied his seemingly simple values. But he made up for it all with his personality, which Ophilia honestly found to be ENDEARING. 

It was honestly surprising that the other hadn’t caught the eye of some maiden in his village. Or hadn’t been turning them all down left and right. Perhaps the cleric was just naive on the whole dating thing. Or just thought her own experiences to be universal. Seeing as she felt plain as could be and yet men and a few women had asked her for a date or two. Always ending up downtrodden when Ophilia would refuse.

“I think you’ll find your match some day. The Flame will guide you towards them. You just have to keep your eyes open.”

Of course, Alfyn took her arm immediately and gave a smile. It was always nice to spend time with friends, and he had never been shy about physical closeness with anyone, as long as the other party was all right with it too.

The market was bustling, of course, but Alfyn was used to navigating places like this now. It had been hard at first, but the more large cities he visited the easier it got. Exposure therapy, he supposed. It helped that Ophilia was a bit more used to this than he, and her steps were a little more confident.

Stall by stall they searched for the ingredients. It didn’t take too long, and there was a butcher that gave them the meat they needed.

Once or twice, stall owners commented on ‘what a cute couple’ they were. Alfyn laughed each time, flustered, but brushed it off. Mush as it was flattering, he didn’t want Ophilia to be uncomfortable, and it wasn’t true anyway.

“We ain’t hanging that close to each other, are we?” He asked as they were on their way back, pensive, “It ain’t offending or anything, I’m just kinda surprised it keeps happening.”

The hustle and bustle of a marketplace never made Ophilia back down. There were times when Flamesgrace would become a rather busy city. Due to large crowds gathering there during certain times of the year to come and pray at the cathedral. And during those times the streets would be packed - as would the marketplace. And because of that, Ophilia was no stranger to crowds and how to make her way through them.

Though she would admit, using her usual techniques was a little hard when she had Alfyn at her side. But she never voiced that aloud. Instead just wishing to keep the apothecary close by so they wouldn’t be separated.

“Hmm? I don’t think we are.”

She responded. Though the few comments about being a cute couple had made her blush, she hadn’t thought much of them. People made mistakes, and with how the two were hanging off one another, it would be easy to confuse them as a pair.

“Maybe we just make the perfect match?” She couldn’t help but to giggle, though a moment later she realized how uncomfortable that might end up making Alfyn.

“Oh, right,” Alfyn said, patting himself down until he found his notebook and pen. He scratched out in his haphazard writing what they would need. Though a brilliant fellow, his penmanship was rough. For some reason writing had never come as naturally to him as other things, and his hand tired quickly- he found he made a lot of spelling mistakes as well.

That aside though, it was legible enough. The meaning got across and that was all they needed. “There, that oughtta do it,” He grinned, “A nice ol’ shopping outing! The fresh air will be good for both of us.”

It didn’t matter in the end how bad Alfyn’s handwriting might have been. So long as the apothecary could read it once they ventured out into the market. Ophilia would gladly carry everything and pay for what they need - so long as Alfyn acted as the interpreter of his list and the various signs they would see.

“Should we go now?”

“ Aye, given the right kind of training, along with some time and practice. ”

Speaking of which, Olberic is already considering where to begin should Ophilia take up his offer. Perhaps they should begin with her core body strength. Or perhaps he should take some time to figure out roughly where she is currently.

He stops thinking about it. She has yet to decide, after all.

“ Once you get used to a sword, other weapons would become easier to learn as well, if I am not mistaken. ”

‘Twould still be difficult, for certain, but the sword is what Olberic himself is most familiar with aside from the lance.

Time and practice.

The former she did not have. They all ventured out so often. they all had goals they wished to meet. And soon. There was little time to be stopping and practicing her swordsmanship. And it was doubtful that Olberic or any of the others would want Ophilia to attempt swordplay while in the middle of actual battle.

“I fear I won’t learn much.”

She admitted. A frown upon her face as her eyes glanced toward the ground. 

Alfyn lit up immediately. He had been a little reluctant- he didn’t want to put his friend out, after all. And sometimes talking to girls, even those he knew, just made him shy. He’d never grown out of the awkwardness of his teen years yet, he supposed.

Enough of that, though, there were sweets to make! And Ophilia was a wonderful baker. If H'aanit weren’t busy with other things, he’d ask her to join too. But just the two of them should be enough.

“I know most of th’ ingredients!” He chirped happily, “Not all the proportions, though, gotta say. Can’t recollect how much vanilla an’ how much cinnamon! But we’ll figure it out.”

His smile softened. “Thank you, Ophilia.” He said, his tone genuine and warm, “I appreciate the help, really.”

“Oh...well that certainly might make it a bit more DIFFICULT.”

But Ophilia didn’t mind a challenge! Not in the slightest! Besides, Alfyn had to deal with the fact that he’d be relaying ingredients and what was what to Ophilia the entire time. So in the end, the cleric would be just fine working with the other to GUESS just how much of each ingredient was needed.

It wouldn’t be that hard...right?

@guiider // Continued from HERE.

She was truly a proper Sister of the Flame; a few moments in her presence had already begun to quell some of the ache burning in Erhardt’s chest. Even then, just outside of Wellspring, he couldn’t help but doubt his own welcome here. Not that any one of them had outright rejected the idea of him coming along. Olberic himself had been the one to extend the offer. But he wasn’t a good man, and couldn’t see any reason they’d truly want someone like him along. Perhaps, not knowing the atrocities he’d committed helped to keep their judgment of his character fairly neutral.

Ophilia’s words were kind, and honest, exactly what he’d needed to hear in that moment. The hand on his shoulder was warm, and despite all of his fear and doubt, he managed to return a smile, with a slight tilt of his head, a light nod.

“As smart as you are devoted, Sister Ophilia,” he replied, glad for her guidance, and glad for her understanding that his issues were still too heavy, too much to talk about for the time being. Perhaps once they knew each other better. “You are right, of course. The path that I’ve chosen to follow has led me here, and given me a chance to redeem myself for the sins that I’ve committed. I was young, and foolish, and easily manipulated then. I only hope that trying to better myself now will be enough.”

“I wouldn’t say smart. Just passing on what had been told to me by a very WISE man.”

His Excellency. The man that had raised her. That had told her to learn from her past. To not let it overtake her. To not be CONSUMED by hate over the loss of her parents. As to where her chips fell in life. To instead find opportunity in it. To find a purpose. And she had. She had become a Sister of the Flame. She had devoted so much of her life to serve the church. And to now go around the continent and perform The Kindling. Even though that hadn’t been her original calling in life - it was now.

And surely Erhardt would find his own calling some day. Perhaps his own past would lead him to it. Give him meaning and reason. Just as Ophilia’s past had done for her.

She’d taught him how to make apple bunnies. Now it was HIS turn to teach HER.

And what had Ophilia’s request been of? To learn how to use a DAGGER - of course! And not just simple tricks, no doubt Therion had thought that was all the cleric wanted. No, she wanted to learn how to defend herself! Though she wasn’t one for violence or bloody combat - Ophilia knew her stave would not protect her forever. She needed another form of cover. Something that would come in handy when her magic could not.

“Please, it does not have to be right away. You could teach me in spurts!”

@unparalleledfocus

“I don’t have any plans, if that is what you’re asking, Professor.”

She gave a kind and gentle smile to the other. Rather curious as to what he may have planned. It was a slow day for them all. Their party needed SOMETHING to do. A few going out to haggle at the marketplace. Some electing to stay inside and rest or mend their weapons.

But the Professor? Oh, what could he have up his sleeve?