Reaper's Crown

Ch. 26

"Yes... Obviously, someone brought the body and you just couldn't refuse. What kind of excuse is that?" the mayor asked. "There's nothing that disproves your involvement."

Danuta stood amongst the guards, with her angered arms crossed.

"You ordered them to thrash me around without even giving me a chance!" Ranpa raised his voice, struggling. "I just want to explain what has to be explained!"

"No," Palski spoke. "We simply told you to bury the bodies in sheets, so no one would face the tragedy that you spearheaded."

"Bodies..." the reality settled into Atomu, who trembled. Someone took care of Elton.

"Even then, you snuck inside, as if to, perhaps, silence your victims. It is undeniable proof. You're guilty." The mayor turned to the body, laid on another table, neatly nestled in a beige cloth. He shook his head, while Ranpa's tired eyes searched for something amongst the crowd. He looked towards the few smaller openings in between buildings, finally spotting Atomu. His eyes widened, but he couldn't do anything else.

"I-I didn't kill them," Ranpa spoke again. "Please..." Each word was slow and careful as if he was waiting for an opportunity.

***

On the other side of the district, a pub party was in full swing. Beers were passed from one hand to another, seldom swapped for mysterious alcoholic drinks made by Rufus himself, who indulged in a cigar. He smiled each time pouring an unknown liquid, combining it with sweet tree sap and a few other local juices, made of the various fruits and ingredients from the Agroste gardens.

Rowan reconsidered at first, once again, hearing the word Agroste brought nothing but memories of the animals. Then again, alcohol wasn't the reason the Tributal hesitantly came here in the first place.

"What happens to the Holy Crown?" Rowan muttered to themselves, walking through the big hall while looking up. The white silk triangular roof was well-lit with white lights warmly bouncing around and moving downwards towards the bar, however, one dominated the rest. A big chandelier, closer to the tables. Although it separated the massive tent with a duvet, the blanket was see-through and oddly pretty.

Wooden poles extended into warm wooden planks coating the rectangular walls near the bottom and almost combined with the strangely warm floorboards. There were at least a hundred different tables, all splattered throughout the zigzaggy paths of the bar. A few Paladians lay drunk already, and Rowan navigated their way through the masses, sitting down with a small glass in their hand. They stared forward, thinking.

"Ahh!" Chyuuichi shot up, laughing and snorting.

"How old are you again?" Rowan's eyes gazed at the Mirillian.

"I'm one!" Chyuuichi raised his voice, almost falling to the floor. "Kidding! Gahaha..." he wiped a tear. "I'm sorry, Rowan! I'm so... drunk," he muttered, closing his eyes with a rather distant smile.

"I can tell." they took a quiet sip, putting two hands together.

"But it's so fun... so good! I just can't resist it!" Chyuuichi patted his shoulder a few times, a little aggressively. "Would you still like me if I was an Eran?"

Rowan furrowed their brows, swiftly making their way through the beverage, standing up to get another.

Chyuuichi was left all alone with his thoughts, for a few minutes. With a burp, came a sudden change, someone took Rowan's seat, looking at the Mirillian.

"Hi," Chyuuichi uttered, extending the last letter.

"Seems that you got a little drunk." the woman uttered.