Healing roots

Chapter 4

She wiped her tears and looked up. The sun was beginning to set. They would be waiting for her. She slowly started walking. By the time she got to the inn, dusk had fallen. As she walked through the door, three halflorns sitting at a table instantly turned to her. A female treeflorn, mushroomflorn, and a male cottonflorn. The treeflorn stood up and walked towards her with long, graceful strides, accentuated by her flowy dress and shawl. Her vine-like hair had been tied into a high bun, and her rough chestnut skin had the pattern of wood grain. She was usually very light spirited, but her mood had been dampened by the war. Her head, usually up high in the clouds, was now on the ground. She enveloped Cedar in a big hug. Cedar looked up at her, her eyes filled with emotion. "Ledie." Ledie smiled sadly down at her. "Cedar. I am so sorry. We've missed you." Cedar walked back with her to the table and sat down in the vacant chair. The cottonflorn, a tall man with gold spectacles, freckles, and platinum hair so curly and voluminous that it nearly engulfed his head, looked at her with the same sad smile as Ledie. "Hello Cedar." "Hello Woolium." She met his gaze for an instant, then looked away. He had been Gabriel's best friend. He was one of the sweetest people she had ever met, the kind of person who always carried around a pastry they knew their friend liked just because. The mushroomflorn then greeted her. "Hello Cedar." "Hello Shroomette." Shroomette was short, stout, brown haired, and perpetually grumpy looking. She too wore spectacles, though they were a copper color. Her freckles and height gave her the look of a pouting child. Her red and white mushroom cap was rather at odds with the rest of her extremely practical clothes. She was a blunt, down to earth, no nonsense kind of person, and Cedar greatly admired her for it. "We are all very sorry about Gabriel. I know we all want to say more than that, but whoever invented the fayric language was an idiot and forgot to make a word for it. So I will just say that we all feel your loss, and will be there if you need us." Cedar's eyes began to tear up again. "Thank you." Ledie looked up thoughtfully. "I think there is a word for it in ancient mairien. It's 'viverden', and it entails sorrow, sympathy, and future hope." Shroomette looked up at her and huffed. "Well, you can't really expect me to pronounce that, can you." Ledie patted her on the head condescendingly. "I can expect you to, but I doubt you can reach my expectations." Shroomette crossed her arms and scowled at her. Ledie attempted to stifle a giggle, and Cedar even felt a slight urge to laugh. Woolium looked at Shroomette with wide eyes, blushed, and looked away again. "How do you even know ancient mairien?!" Shroomette said, indignant at her friends' responses. "It is because I am a dreamer, and see the sky and learn languages and create great art, while you, an apothecary, stick to the herbs on your level." Shroomette sputtered with rage, and as it seemed that she might leap over the table and strangle Ledie, Woolium took it upon himself to break it up. "Why don't we pause this conversation and take a few deep breaths. We wouldn't want to do anything foolish." Shroomette, who had stood up to give herself more height, quickly sat down, glancing at Woolium as she did. "Why do you always try to infuriate me Ledie?!" Ledie switched to a more lounging position. "You're just so easily riled up. It's fun to see the little short bean get mad." 'If it were possible for steam to come out of someone's ears,' Cedar thought. "You'd better watch yourself, you overgrown tree branch!!! I could turn your bark neon orange and I swear I will someday if you don't cut it out!!!" Ledie seemed rather concerned about this threat, but tried to hide it. Woolium again intervened, and the group turned in for the night. Cedar was infinitely grateful for her friends. For a few minutes, the cloud of darkness surrounding her had partially lifted. But when she closed her eyes, her dreams were haunted by battlefields and the head of a mad queen.