Table Camping

Retvik was wandering through the nearly finished bar, hoping to get something to drink. He needed something mind-numbing, just for a bit. He was supposed to be asleep and resting, but there was too much going through Retvik’s mind. Enough to keep him up.

As he reached the self-serve section of the bar though, Retvik heard an unusual sound.

“Psst.”

The sound seemed to be coming from underneath the heavy, marble bar top. Retvik grunted, then peered under the marble. For some strange reason, both Kuta and Litvir were camping out underneath and around the bar. They’d made a small camp fire and were sipping hot chocolate drinks, while occasionally melting marshmallows over the fire.

“Uh, what are you two doing here?”

“Kuta suggested we go camping. I dislike camping, so we compromised and set up camp here in the bar,” Litvir quite clearly explained. “We wanted to have a little time to ourselves and just, well, chat.”

“But you’re welcome to join us!” Kuta butted in. “We have marshmallows!”

Retvik hesitated, then awkwardly sat down on the floor. “But why are you here?”

“Why not?” Kuta smiled. “Are you alright? Is something on your mind?”

“I have a lot on my mind.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Retvik grunted, helping himself to a marshmallow, then holding it over the small camp fire with his bare hand. It started to get sticky, and Retvik swiftly became aware of how dumb his current action was.

“Have a wet wipe!” Litvir offered Retvik a small pack of damp wipes, which Retvik used to clean himself up. Retvik noticed that Litvir looked rather concerned. “Are you sure you are alright?”

“I am not alright…” Retvik finally admitted with a sigh. “I… I…” He trailed off, an attempt to collect his thoughts. “Things have been a bit… too hectic lately. Between the slavers, the parallel universe duplicate stuff and… what happened the other day, I think I need a break.”

“A break from work or a break from us?” Litvir asked. “Because, if I were in your foot plates, I would not want to be in the same place as multiple reminders of a lost friend.”

“He was not my friend. He said so himself…” Retvik grunted, throwing the wet wipe to one side, before grabbing a fresh marshmallow. Kuta and Litvir both noticed that he was stabbing that marshmallow pretty hard with the wooden skewers they had.

With a sigh, Litvir shuffled over, putting his hand on Retvik’s shoulder. “You genuinely believe that he meant what he said?”

“Somewhat.”

“Why do you believe that?” Litvir asked. “You have known Arkay for a long time, yes?”

Retvik nodded.

“And that outburst was the first you had heard of that, right? You are forgetting all those years of companionship and focusing on a handful of words spoken not even by Arkay, but by the monsters in his twisted, battered mind.”

“He had repeated this same thing more times than you are aware of, Litvir!” Retvik snapped a little. “He was… he was always broken. And I could never bring myself to admit that I was… infatuated with such a broken being.”

Kuta and Litvir both shrugged.

“That is why he went to a place so he can be fixed!” Kuta smiled.

“I have my doubts about that…” Retvik sighed, still stabbing his marshmallow, rather than eating it. “We’ve tried this a lot, it is a vicious circle.”

“Maybe this time will be different? He is getting proper, professional help now, it might actually work out!”

The Flamebearer sighed some more. “That is what we always say. That this time will be different. Never is.” On that final note, Retvik picked himself up off the ground, then walked away. “Sorry for disturbing you both.”

The psionic twins waited a moment until Retvik was out of sight, before turning their attention back to the marshmallows and camp fire.

“He is really hurting…” Litvir muttered.

“Yeah…” Kuta frowned. “We need to do something to cheer him up…”