Below, in the tavern, Carrot and the other Sorcerer Hunters were sitting at a wooden booth.
“There’s Marron,” Chocolate said, seeing her teammate descend the staircase.
Marron slid into the booth, finding it rather ironic that they had left a place for him next to Gateau.
“Are you all right?” Gateau asked. “We were getting worried that you woldn’t wake up.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Marron replied.
“You took a mighty blow yesterday,” Gateau insisted.
“I’m not dead, am I?” This shut them up. For a while...
“Menu,” Tira offered, handing one over to Marron. He took it from her, and looked at it. It was one-sided, the front covered with the name of the Tavern, the name of the Inn above, and a strange rooster-snake emblem pressed into the leather. On the other side, the items were listed, embossed into the leather as well. Marron regarded the foods for a few long moments.
Presently, the waitress woman came around. “What’ll you all have?”
“One duck for the three of us,” said Chocolate, motioning to her side of the table - Tira flanking Carrot who was next to Chocolate.
“And a duck for me,” added Gateau.
Marron shook his head, and slid out of the booth. His teammates watched him stalk out of the smoky, dim tavern into the night outside.
“What else?” said the waitress.
“Nothing,” said Carrot.
“Side orders?” she persisted.
Each of the remaining Hunters looked at the woman. “No!”
“What’s up with your brother?” asked Chocolate.
“I should know?”
“I’ve never seen him so... snappish...” Tira mused.
“Neither have I,” Gateau agreed.
“He’s probably just in a bad mood,” Carrot rationalized.
They all looked uneasy. Tira voiced each of their thoughts: “But Marron doesn’t have bad moods.”
* * *
Outside, the icy cold wind blew hard across Marron’s face. He shivered, but kept walking. He was trying to understand what had happened back in the tavern. Gateau had been inquiring after his health, and the next thing he knew, he heard the words, “I’m not dead, am I?” hanging in the air, and it had been his voice that had spoken them. He had absolutely no notion as to what had possessed him to walk out on his friends, but he had a strong sense that he couldn’t go back now. Nothing logical told him this, it was as though someone had just told him this, and he trusted in it completely.
So Marron kept walking. He didn’t quite know what to make of it. He honestly did not remember saying the things he had said in the tavern. Marron walked out in the direction of the river, thinking on everything he could bring himself to think of. But nothign held the answer. Even as a child he had not been angry in such a way. Even deep in his mind, he did not think that cynically.
He reached the river, and sat underneath a bare tree. He wondered why he had made the long walk back out to the river. He thought about the day before, about the fight tha had ensued not far from where he sat...
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