The Temple of Villagloriosa, a rather grand old doghouse crowned with a somewhat lopsided statue of Glorioso, was the designated venue for farewells. Randy had not been to any funerals before, but this one felt really unusual. Unusually crowded, to be precise. Mice from every corner of town had squeezed themselves inside the temple, their tiny bodies packed together, leaving little space to move around.
Randy found himself squashed between his mother, her eyes still puffy and red-rimmed from crying, and his father, who looked dutifully solemn. They, in turn, were wedged between members of the Rockaflower family.
Rosaline was visibly annoyed by their presence. What were they and all the other families doing here? Most didn’t even know Will, and their sheer volume was making it difficult to grieve in peace.
Perhaps it was the large congregation, their collective energy more akin to a rowdy market than a place of mourning, or maybe it was the strange, almost gleeful expressions on some of their faces, but Randy’s tears stubbornly refused to come. This was a gathering to grieve, to pay respects to a fallen mouse before his body was laid to rest. And yet, apart from Rosaline, no one seemed particularly grief-stricken.
Randy's gaze drifted towards Will's coffin, a repurposed human mint tin, its metallic surface gleaming dully in the candlelight. It was the first time he had ever seen a dead mouse, and the sight was unsettling. Will looked almost happy, his last, peaceful smile still playing on his lips.
Randy tore his gaze away, scanning the rows of mice behind him. The second row was lined with Will's siblings, with Ruda occupying a space equivalent to two regular mice. Randy had never realised Rosaline had so many siblings. In fact, apart from Ruda's occasional cheese-raiding incursions, he couldn't recall them ever visiting him.
The realisation that none of these mice cared about Will when he was alive, hit Randy with a force that finally broke the dam of his grief. His eyes welled with tears, his small body shaking with sobs. The injustice of it all, the casual disregard for his uncle's life, was too much to bear.
As Randy wept, a stir rippled through the crowd at the back of the temple. Heads turned, whispers spread, and a collective intake of breath filled the air. Euphemia — followed by Boldo, the Elders and a posse of her personal guards — had arrived.
Rosaline understood the true reason for the overwhelming turnout. It wasn't about Will. It was about Euphemia.
The mayor moved slowly towards the coffin, her gaze sweeping over the assembled mice, a silent demand for absolute attention. She reached the casket, bowed her head with a theatrical flourish, and then declared, "Rest in peace, Will Crackers."
The words, heavy with a manufactured solemnity, were repeated in unison by the entire room, a chorus of tiny voices that sounded strangely hollow. Then, Euphemia stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the crowd, her expression shifting to one of stern pronouncement.
"Will Crackers was a strange mouse," she began, her words ringing through the temple. "But we loved him."
A collective murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, though Randy suspected that "loved" might be a bit of a stretch.
"Initially," Euphemia continued, "we loved him for his selfless contributions to Villagloriosa."
Randy wondered if anyone else remembered Will's contributions.
"Then, we loved him despite his careless trekking into The Wild."
A shiver ran through the crowd at the mention of The Wild.
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"We loved him even when he returned mad and half-feral. When he spread lies aimed at corrupting our minds and disrupting our peace. We loved him despite his lies, delusions and disrespect for cheese. We loved him even when he dared to bring sweets and corrupt his nephew’s mind." Euphemia's gaze swept over Randy, her eyes narrowed with disapproval.
Randy, his cheeks flushing, felt a wave of indignation. Corrupt? He hadn't been corrupted! He had merely expanded his culinary horizons.
"Despite all these faults," Euphemia concluded, "we loved him." She paused, her gaze sweeping over the assembled mice, searching for any sign of dissent. But the crowd’s faces were etched with silent reverence. Only Rosaline dared to meet Euphemia's gaze with a look of pure rage. Her tears had dried under the fiery ember of her furious red eyes.
"And today," Euphemia continued, her gaze fixed on Will's coffin, "we love him even more, because Will taught us a vital lesson: The Wild is a place of evil, decadence, and impurity, a place that leads to madness and death."
Rosaline winced at every word, her breathing becoming agitated, her lip trembling as she bit down hard. Romero, sensing her rising fury, tried to comfort her by resting a paw gently on her shoulder. But she remained tense, her gaze fixed on Euphemia with a growing sense of outrage.
Randy looked around at the crowd. They were all transfixed, nodding in solemn agreement. He felt like a stranger in his own town.
"Neighbours, brothers, and sisters," Euphemia moved closer to Will's coffin, her eyes gleaming with a strange, unsettling light. "In case any of you have any doubts, let me show you what decadence looks like."
Her hand moved towards Will's mouth. She grabbed his fake teeth and yanked them out with a sharp, sickening click. She held them aloft, her gaze sweeping over the gasping crowd, pacing around for everyone to see.
Ruda, her face contorted in disgust, snorted loudly, and Rosaline's glare could have melted cheese at fifty paces.
"Yes, these are fake teeth," Euphemia declared with the authority of a high priestess revealing a forbidden idol. "Worn because his real ones were lost to sweets, the same sweets that drove him mad. This is what decadence looks like!"
The crowd gasped again. Randy felt a fierce desire to defend his memory against this public desecration, and maybe he would have done so, but then...
"Enough!" Rosaline finally exploded, her rage shattering the oppressive silence. "This is a place to pay respects and you are being awfully disrespectful. Get out now, Euphemia! I don't care who you are. You have no right to do this!"
Euphemia, taken aback by this unprecedented display of defiance, didn't move, her gaze defiant, her eyes narrowed into slits of anger. Rosaline had never been so bold, so utterly fearless. Randy felt a surge of pride he had never experienced before for her. Romero tried to placate Rosaline, but she was beyond persuasion. She was driven by a force far stronger than fear or decorum.
"My dear," Euphemia hissed, as she moved slowly to put the teeth back into Will’s mouth, her movements deliberate and theatrical. "I understand your pity and grief, I really do. But this isn't about you, Will, or me. It's about the community. We all live and die for this community. Every single one of our lives means nothing. The community means everything. Never forget that."
"Shut up!" Rosaline screamed, shocking everyone into silence. "Shut up and leave, all of you hypocrites! I don't care about this community now, you disgust me! Where were you when he was alive? Where were you when he needed help? You pushed him out into The Wild — YOU! Now it is too late. He is dead — DEAD!"
Everyone froze, waiting for Euphemia's reaction, their faces showing fear and anticipation, as if they were witnessing a volcano about to erupt.
Rosaline collapsed back onto the pew, her fury spent. "I pity him, but I don't judge him," Rosaline said. "You've given your message. Now, please go."
Randy hugged her tightly. Romero embraced them both.
"Before I go, I have an important announcement," Euphemia declared, her gaze sweeping over the assembled mice. "The Elders and I have decreed a new law: anyone who goes into The Wild for more than three days will be declared an exile and not allowed to return. We will not tolerate any more negative influences in our community.
“I shall let you grieve in peace now, Rosaline. I will forgive your disrespect to me and this community this one time, on account of your grief. But don't you ever dare talk to me that way again, or there will be serious consequences."
And with that final, chilling pronouncement, Euphemia left, followed by her retinue and the rest of the silent crowd. Only Randy, Rosaline, Romero, and Will's coffin remained in the temple, the silence broken only by Rosaline's quiet sobs.
This, Randy thought, would change everything. If he ever ventured into The Wild, it would be a one-way trip. There would be no turning back.