AVENGER

He thought of every morning when he woke up, and had to face himself in the mirror. What good did that damnable face do? They had always said that he was so beautiful. What good did it do? What good did beauty do when his only brother lay dying in his arms.

No good. Nothing he had been able to do then did any good. It didn’t do a fucking bit of good.

He thought of the morning after his brother’s death, through which he had not slept. He had kept vigil over his brother’s body so that Mocha could not return. The bastard Mocha did not return, but Marron looked in the mirror, and screamed.

“Marron!” cried a wearied Tira. “What is it!” The remaining two Sorcerer Hunters had rushed into the room, and were staring at him. He could see them in the mirror, but he could not take his eyes off his reflection. The pale skin, the golden eyes, the well-shaped nose and mouth. His silken black hair.

It was too much for him to take. Letting out another yell, he ran into the sleeping area where he had lain his brother’s body. He pulled the sword from his brother’s sheath. He felt the pommel in his hand, felt its weight, its strength.

“Marron!” cried Tira. “NO! Whatever happens, it’s not worth killing yourself!”

“We all miss him, Marron!”

Ignoring their cries, Marron raised the sword and chopped off his hair in one swipe of the blade. The sisters let out a sigh of deep relief and surprise.

He went to his brother’s body, and replaced the sword. Then he slid his hands under Carrot’s back and lifted his brother’s body in his arms.

“Marron, what are you doing!” cried Chocolate.

Ignoring them once again, he burst out of the cabin, and carried his brother into the forest. He found the clearing, the same one in which Mocha and Zaha Torte had killed his brother. On the same patch of soft pine needles, he laid down his older brother.

“Oh, Carrot... I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do now, nothing to save you.”

He unbuckled the sword’s belt from around his brother’s waist and put it around his own. He stood, then kneeled again, taking his brother’s hands in his hands. He felt a surge of energy go through his body, as though a final bit of life had passed from his brother’s energy.

Upon returning to the cabin, he found the two sisters standing in the middle of the room where they had left him.

Coldly, strictly, he spoke to them. “I forbid you from ever setting foot in that clearing, ever again in your entire lives.”

“M... Marron?”

“I would suggest that you leave. Go home, find some solace in an ordinary life. You can leave the vengeance to me.”

“Carrot’s sword!” Tira looked like she might die of fright.

“I forbid you to ever go back into that clearing.”

The next night, after he had sent the girls off, at midnight, he took some locks of his hair, and a small vial, and the mirror from the wall and went out into the woods again. He wore his brother’s sword around his waist. Never again would it leave his side, not even in sleep.

But upon reaching the clearing, he found his brother’s body gone, the pine needles dented where his corpse has lain. He stood, for a whole minute, speechless, staring at the indented place. Then he raised his eyes to the heavens and screamed, “GOD DAMN YOU!”

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