The Fourth Story: 1-1 The Next Verse

The Fourth Story

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A naive apothecary and a bard sets out on a journey in a wagon with a crucible.

Info

Style: Recommended: Apothecary's Journey, Honest Fool, Road to Nowhere, Song Under Stars, Afternoon Arrives, Traveler's Charm, Silent Plains Rewards: 3,000 , 600 , 3 , 1 , 1 , Blueprint: Setbacks and Adversity

Setbacks and Adversity

Dialogue Choices

There are no dialogue choices in this stage.

Transcript

Expand for script.

What starts with singing and joy, but ends up being out of tune?

My answer is: most things in this world, including my journey with Tate.

When I first set out as an independent apothecary, I thought my savings would be able to support us for a year at the very least.

However, after just a few months of travel, my purse has already grown much lighter.

But money is not my main concern at the moment. It's love... and the fact I've had that same awful dream again.

• I hold Tate's hand as we walk along the beach.
• His hands are rough and wrinkled, and feel like a bundle of dried sage to the touch.

• Tate Lain: Love is patient and kind.

• He hums the tune to the song he sang by the campfire, his singing slow and interrupted by occasional coughs.

• Tate Lain: Love is about accepting, believing, hoping, and enduring.

• I dare not look at him. Though his eyes still sparkle like precious gems, the wrinkles etched around them seem to have taken root in my heart.
• We walk so slowly that even the gentlest waves seem to be urging us on...

• Tate Lain: Emeliana, my dear, look! It's a shooting star!

• He releases my hand and staggers into the sea, his once lively chestnut curls now white and limp.
• I avert my gaze from his thin, weak figure, looking up at the sky in search of the shooting star. I make a wish, hoping it will come true...

• You: I hope Tate Lain will always be by my side.

• The warmth of his palm dispels the cooling sensation of the sea breeze on my face.

• Tate Lain: Love never ends...

• His warmth suddenly disappears. I open my eyes to see that he has disappeared.

• You: Tate!

• You: Tate Lain!

• The surface of the sea is calm, as if the man who promised to spend his entire life with me hadn't just vanished into thin air.
• A tight sensation grips my heart, squeezing it tightly, as if it's trying to remove every last trace of his existence.

• You: No, no... Tate! Stay with me... Don't leave me all alone!

• My tears drip into the icy sea, which reflects my youthful and unchanged appearance...

• ???: Our stall's all ready, dear Emelita!

• Tate Lain: I can't wait to find out what surprises our love potion, which we spent six months preparing and all our money on, will bring!

• Tate leans into the wagon through the window, and I quickly stuff my diary under the rug.
• I've been secretly recording the daily happenings and my feelings in it ever since we started our journey together.

• You: Great job, Tate! Give me a moment... I'll be right there!

• Tate Lain: What are you writing?

• You: N-Nothing. I'm just... keeping track of our expenses in this ledger! We can't afford to be careless with money these days.

• Tate Lain: A ledger? But I—

• Tate Lain: Wait a minute... Your hand... When did you get hurt?

• You: Um... when I was handling the herbs...

• That's a lie. I didn't hurt myself on some prickly herb... I got injured while catching lumibugs to keep our purse safe from thieves.
• We apothecaries usually recommend Retrieval Potions to customers who lose their belongings easily. It's a potion that allows lost items to return to their owner.
• I decided to forgo that step and use lumibugs instead, letting them build a nest in my purse.
• This way, I'll save on potion ingredients, and it'll also teach any thieving scoundrels a lesson.
• As for why I'm keeping it a secret from my dear bard? Lumibugs... they live on the edge of cliffs.
• I wasn't going to let Tate risk his life for a few bugs.

• Tate Lain: It doesn't look like you got injured by thorns, Emelita... Did an herb grow fangs or something?

• I immediately draw my hand back and dip it into a healing potion. Why didn't I do that as soon as I got back?

• You: Look, I'm fine now.

• You: Did you just call me... Emelita?

• You: Are you still cooking up new nicknames for me, Tate?

• You: If you really think that giving me a pet name will make us closer...

• You: Why don't you call me "Emmie"?

• Tate Lain: You're not serious, right? Nicknames are extremely important, you know.

• Tate Lain: How about Emeliana?

• Tate Lain: Wait... hold on there. Are you trying to change the subject?

• You: Of course not!

• Tate Lain: Really? Do you know that your face turns red and you start playing with your hair whenever you lie?

• My fingers falter before they can reach my hair, and I put my hands down hastily.
• Embarrassment floods over me. I struggle to find a way to explain myself, but he starts laughing.

• Tate Lain: I'm not going to force you to spill your secrets, Emelia.

• Tate Lain: I'll just be patient and wait until you're ready to open up to me.

• Tate Lain: No matter what happens, I'll always believe you.

• You: Tate...

• I know he expects me to smile back at him, but I can't muster up even a small grin.
• He thinks that this extravagant gamble, which has depleted our savings, is for the sake of living a normal life: having a place to stay, being able to afford drinks at the tavern, and...
• ...for my "new hobby" — collecting bottles and jars linked to strange rumors.
• But he doesn't know that I'm collecting them for the sake of making sure that nightmare never becomes reality.
• The only way ordinary people like him can extend their lifespan is to possess a "spark" — in other words, to become an apothecary.
• So far, only one apothecary has succeeded. She disclosed the key ingredient of the potion—
• A "creature that grants wishes, and likes to inhabit unexpected receptacles related to people."
• The only creature I know of that fits this description is a djinn. Rumor has it that one was last seen in this area.
• But I'm out of money and have to bet everything on the love-in-idleness sap. It had better sell well.

• Tate Lain: Hey, this isn't the reaction I wanted. What's the matter, Emelita?

• You: It's nothing. I'm just a bit... tired from developing a new potion...

• Tate Lain: Hey, relax, even if—

• You: Don't worry, we'll definitely make a big profit! I guarantee it on my honor as a former Guild apothecary!

• Tate Lain: I've said it before, Emelia, but you don't have to worry about such issues. I'll figure it out—

• You: Let me help too, my dear bard.

• You: And thank you... You always know what to say.

• Tate Lain: There's more where that came from.

• Tate Lain: Alright! Ready to open for business?

• Tate Lain: Ladies and gentlemen, don't be shy. Come take a peek, see what catches your eye.

• Tate Lain: We all have wishes, that much is clear. But what do you long for, my dear?

• Tate Lain: For golden locks, long and fair, but to a tower you shall be bound?

• Tate Lain: Or a slumber sweet and sound, without any curse to be found?

• Tate Lain: For strength so great, twelve trials you'll nail...

• Tate Lain: Or a voice so sweet, without a fishy tail...

• Tate Lain: That last wish is not one I'd recommend, else my job will come to an end!

• The strums of Tate's lute and his cheerful singing echo through the marketplace, but he doesn't begin the second verse as usual.

• You: What's the matter? Aren't you going to go, "So tell her, tell her your wishes. Trust me, folks, she never misses"?

• Tate Lain: Hmm... Is it just me, my dear, or does something seem... off?

• I put down my mixing spoon and look around. People are avoiding us as if we have the plague.
• A few days ago when we stopped here, they all gathered like a flock of sheep following a shepherd's flute.

• You: Maybe they're scared of the potion-making demonstration...

• You: And here I thought it would be a good way to attract customers...

• Tate Lain: Emelita...

• You: It's fine. We've still got the star of the show.

• The surface of the liquid in my crucible has taken on a pale yellow hue, while the bottom is deep purple and semi-transparent.
• A wonderful aroma emanates from my crucible, wafting around the surroundings. It is a nostalgic scent that can evoke beautiful memories.
• The passersby stop in their tracks, attracted by the scent of the potion. Tate starts strumming his lute again.

• Tate Lain: Whether it's a him or a her that you adore...

• Tate Lain: Try love-in-idleness, and you'll surely score...

• Tate Lain: Its scent evokes both love and sorrow... Memories of old and soon, tomorrow.

• You: Tate?

• Tate Lain: This smell... reminds me of the first time we met...

• Tate stares at me.
• He stretches out his hand towards me. I cough softly just as he's about to touch my cheek, and he snaps out of it, lowering his arm.
• He starts singing again, and some people start to walk up to us.
• But before I can even call out to them, they are pushed aside by several guards holding spears.
• These armored thugs surround me, Tate, and our little stall.

• Tate Lain: Hey, we're a legitimate business!

• A middle-aged man, who is short but well-dressed, emerges from amidst the guards. He is covering his nose and mouth with a handkerchief and his gaze is full of contempt.
• He doesn't seem to want to come any closer to us. He whispers to the guard beside him, who then conveys his message.

• Guard: I'm the enforcer of this town.

• Guard: I heard that there were scammers around here; a blasphemer practicing witchcraft and a bard spouting nonsense.

• Guard: Looks like they were talking about you two.

• You: Witchcraft? Scammer? No wonder the people were afraid of us!

• Tate Lain: I beg for your understanding, esteemed enforcer. We are—

• He turns away, not having the patience to listen to Tate's explanation.
• Before I can even pull out a bottle of Black Miasma, the guards point their spears at us, surrounding us like lace on a skirt.

• Guard: Let's go. Lord Godfrey will judge you personally.

• Tate Lain: Hold up. I'm confused, Lord Godfrey.

• Tate Lain: So, you're not here to judge us? You're asking for our help?

• Lord Godfrey: Your help?! How dare you suggest that? Were you not listening? I said, I want you to atone for what you've done!

• Lord Godfrey: You've been practicing witchcraft, deceiving the poor, and profiting on my land without paying taxes to me.

• Lord Godfrey: I have every right to chop off your heads and hang them at the intersection for all to see.

• That's exactly how he threatened us when we were first brought to his castle, all while shaking his thick, clumsy finger at us.

• Tate Lain: However, out of the kindness of your heart, you'll graciously allow us a chance to atone... by helping you win the princess's heart.

• Lord Godfrey: That's what I said.

• Lord Godfrey picks up the wine glass on the table, rinses his mouth, and spits into the bucket held by a servant beside him.
• He then rummages through the sheets of parchment on the table, many of which depict graceful figures of women, and hands me a letter filled with elegant handwriting.

Dear Lord Godfrey,

I have received your passionate confession of love. However, as the princess of Draken, my duty is the safety and protection of my people. As such, I have sworn to marry only a warrior who can lift their own body.

If you truly are as serious about me — "as much as a pig loves mud" as stated in your letter — I await the day you show me proof of your qualifications.

• You: (Lift their own body? Pff! And what is the whole "as much as a pig loves mud" thing?)

• You: (I bet this is just the princess' way of rejecting him.)

• I glance sideways at Tate. He chuckles and shrugs, assenting to my thoughts.
• Lord Godfrey snatches the letter rudely out of my hands.

• Lord Godfrey: Seen enough? Now tell me what you've got!

• Lord Godfrey: You were selling... some kind of love sap, right? Does it work?

• You: (Ah, I get it now. All those threats were just part of his ruse... This is his real goal!)

• You: (He wants to use love-in-idleness sap to seduce the princess? I'm not about to be an accomplice to such an abhorrent scam!)

• Lord Godfrey: Oh, by the way. If it doesn't work, I'll take it as proof that you're scammers.

• Lord Godfrey: And do you know how I deal with scammers?

• You: Ha, you scum—

• Tate Lain: Calm down now.

• I stealthily reach into my pocket to grab a potion, but Tate leans in and interrupts me.

• Tate Lain: Love-in-idleness sap can indeed help you find true love, Lord Godfrey.

• Tate Lain: But winning the princess's heart doesn't mean you'll get to marry her. Why not just satisfy her demands?

• You: Tate?

• Lord Godfrey: You can make me into a warrior who can lift my own body?

• Tate Lain: Sure. All you need is a small bottle of Hauling Potion.

• He winks at me and glances at the windowsill behind me.

• You: (Is he hinting that we should escape through the window?)

• You: (It's a good plan; I'd rather not have to deal with the guards in this entire castle, but we're high up in a tower!)

• You: (Wait... there's a moat around the castle — we could use a Waterbreath Potion!)

• I push aside the surrounding spears and take out a bottle from the case they're guarding. A servant snatches it from me and hands it to Lord Godfrey.

• Tate Lain: If you put this on your hands, you'll be able to lift anything.

• Tate Lain: Like... that window over there.

• Tate pretends to casually choose a target — the window he wants us to escape from.

• After seeing a guard lift a chair with another guard sitting in it, Lord Godfrey rubs the contents of the bottle on his hands.
• He roars like a wild boar, dislodging the window and its surrounding bricks.

• Tate Lain: What admirable strength, Lord Godfrey!

• Tate Lain: See, now you don't even have to think about getting a gift for the princess.

• Lord Godfrey: Shut your mouth. I don't need a singing beggar to teach me what to do!

• Just as Lord Godfrey is admiring his work with satisfaction, a strong wind gusts into the room through the large hole in the wall.
• Documents, sheets of parchment with drawings of women, and the letter stamped with the princess's seal are suddenly blown all over the place.

• Lord Godfrey: Damn plague! Tax-dodging rats!

• Lord Godfrey tries to grab the letter, but the Hauling Potion on his hands makes it difficult to hold onto the thin paper, causing it to slip out of his grasp.

• Lord Godfrey: What are you all standing around for? Get it!

• No one wants to miss this opportunity. The guards, eager to please Lord Godfrey, immediately start hurrying after the letter.
• Tate and I take the opportunity to run to the window.

• Lord Godfrey: Go ahead and jump. The mervipers in the moat would be more than happy to execute you both for me.

• Lord Godfrey gasps for breath as he escapes from the chaos.

• Tate Lain: Mervipers?!

• Lord Godfrey: Yep. Those poor mervipers are tired of feeding on hangman's carcasses. They must be hungry for fresh flesh and blood.

• Lord Godfrey: If you get bitten, their venom will kill you immediately.

• You: (Drat. Waterbreath Potion needs to be in water to create a barrier.)

• You: (Those mervipers aren't going to give me time to uncork the bottle. What should I do now?)

• Tate Lain: Well, of course. What story would be complete without a villainous lord and his malicious pets?

• Tate Lain: Do we have any Deepsleep Potion left, darling?

• Not a single drop.
• My last bottle of Deepsleep Potion... was used on Tate himself when he suffered from insomnia, tormented by a new story he was writing.

• Lord Godfrey: Poor little wretches. Your faces are turning white.

• Lord Godfrey: Don't be afraid. I've decided to give you a chance.

• You: What are you trying to say?

• Lord Godfrey: What was your name again, Miss Apothecary?

• Lord Godfrey: Forget it, it's not important. You've already proven your worth to me.

• Lord Godfrey: I'll forgive your crimes and mistakes... as long as you're willing to serve me.

• Lord Godfrey: It's such a shame to see a beautiful lady like you hanging out with this lowly beggar.

• You: Take that back! Don't you dare insult him!

• Lord Godfrey: I insulted him? Please. What good does a singing rat like him do?

• Tate's fingers grow slack as he purses his lips.

• You: Tate?

• Lord Godfrey: Imagine what you could accomplish under my protection. I wouldn't mind getting to know you better, even if it means lowering my standards.

• He reaches out and, using the Hauling Potion's power, forcibly pulls me towards him. Then, step by step, he pushes Tate towards the hole in the wall.

• Tate Lain: How kind of you. Unfortunately, Emelia Farrow has no interest in getting to know you at all!

• Tate interrupts Lord Godfrey angrily and grabs my hand tightly.

• Tate Lain: I regret leading my beloved here, and giving you the opportunity to insult her!

• Tate Lain: Everything you have is built on people's fear!

• Tate Lain: The terrible taxes, the horrible hangings, and the threat of mervipers... have rotted this place to the core!

• Tate Lain: Do you know what that means?

• Tate Lain: Even the most breathtaking flowers can't hide the ugliness of this wretched place, nor can the most fragrant perfume mask the foul stench.

• Lord Godfrey: You! I'm gonna rip your mouth off!

• Tate Lain: Really? But I'm the only one who dares to tell you how the princess truly feels about you.

• Lord Godfrey: Are you threatening me? Did you hear that? A singing vagabond is actually threatening me!

• Lord Godfrey: How stupid are you? You must be the stupidest person who's set foot on my land.

• Tate Lain: At least I know I'm not a coward.

• Tate's provocations anger the arrogant Lord Godfrey.
• He seems to forget all about the Hauling Potion on his hands, and crosses his arms over his round belly.
• He squints fiercely at Tate, as if he wishes his gaze could dig Tate's heart out of his chest.

• Lord Godfrey: Well, then. Continue, you vile flea.

• Lord Godfrey: Let me hear what other bold declarations you can come up with!

• Tate Lain: Ha. Have you truly not realized that the princess was just politely rejecting your proposal?

• Tate Lain: She doesn't want to marry you. After all, what noble lady would want to marry an abhorrent pig like you?

• Lord Godfrey: Lies! Cut out his tongue! Do it now!

• Tate Lain: Oh, Lord Godfrey, why else would the kind princess make such an unreasonable request? Do you have dung for brains?

• Laughter erupts from the guards.
• Lord Godfrey whirls around to stare at the guards in disbelief, who all avoid his gaze.

• Tate Lain: Now, whether you like it or not, we have to go!

• Tate holds me close and leans back, and we fall through the hole in the wall.

• You: Dang it, Tate Lain! What do we do now?!

• You: Waterbreath Potion won't work without water!

• Tate Lain: Shh, Emelita, let me listen to your heartbeat.

• You: Tate! Now is not the time...

• Tate Lain: Pour the Hauling Potion onto my hands and let me throw you onto the shore.

• You: Are you crazy? You'll die!

• Tate Lain: No, the only way I'll die is by living a life without you.