Epilogue

Iver threw back the last of his drink, the seventh one that night that Tave had seen. He’d probably had more before Tave even entered the establishment. “And I think that’s where we’ll call it for the night.” Despite how much alcohol the Darkling had ingested, he barely even had a slur to his words.

Tave checked the time on his therra. “Um, Mr. Maverick, it’s four in the morning.”

The Darkling cocked his head and shot Tave an annoyed look.“I told you already, kid, just call me Iver. Besides, I’m not exactly shocked to hear that the sun’ll be comin’ up soon.” He spun on his stool before planting his hands against his thighs to push off. “But while I have enough get-up-and-go to walk on to the nearest diner for a meal before doing some gear repair,” Iver shot the young Half-Elf a knowing look. “I’m pretty sure you need some actual sleep.”

Tave stowed his notebook and pen before pushing up his glasses with a guilty yet tired look. “Is it really that obvious?”

Iver hoped from his stool with surprising grace from someone who had been drinking like he was attempting to change into an alcohol-fueled fish. “Hit the sack, kid. I’m pretty sure the caustic rain has stopped, and the Mange Hounds should be long gone by now.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black leather duster coat as he strolled towards the establishment’s doors. “There’s a reasonably priced motel two blocks south of here that should be mostly free of druggies and their toys.”

“Wait.” Tave tripped over himself to catch up the three steps to the Darkling. “How did you know about the Mange Hounds?”

“I heard them, obviously.” He tapped his right ear with his cybernetic right hand. “Cochlear enhancement implant. It’s saved my bacon a couple of times, but I gotta say, it was a bastard to install myself.”

Tave was about to ask how he had installed the implant himself, but thought better of it. Instead, he asked another question that had been bothering him since earlier that night. “So, Iver. If the Hermetic Order of the Aegis is so secret and that Dark Hunter Sect even more so, is it really safe to publish this work?”

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By then, the two of them had reached the entrance. Iver turned back to give a grateful parting wave to the only remaining patron in the tavern. In the far back corner of the room sat a Ceangar woman with spikey scarlet hair dressed in a maroon corset. The short woman was nursing a Tankard that was half her size and wielding it like it weighed nothing. “Thanks for the drinks, Vala. I’ll be sure to stop by the next time you’re in town.”

As the two stepped from the building, Iver pointed a thumb back toward the woman. “That wonderful lush back there is the owner of this place.” He said this with a wide and joyful grin. But like a switch had been tossed, his expression turned somber. For most of the night, Iver had shown a range of emotions as he recounted his past, but it was nothing more intense than amused, fond, sad, or annoyed. At the end of the tale, and as he left the tavern, he seemed honestly happy. But at that moment, he looked worn down, like a stone losing itself to the tides of the sea.

“To answer your question about the Order and your safety, they’re gone.”

“Gone? How? Was it the Netarrum Calamity?” Tave asked as they walked down the alley leading to the tavern.

“No. The Order fell before the calamity, if only by a few days. I was the cause of the fall of the Aegis and countless deaths. But we’ll get to that story in a few days. For now, I’ve got a scene to show you.”

By then, the two had reached the end of the alley.

“A scene?” Tave asked in open puzzlement.

In answer, Iver laid a hand on Tave’s shoulder and steered him to turn around. The two looked back at the out-of-place building. As soon as the first rays of the sun touched The Cantankerous Tankard Tavern began to fade in and out of reality with a warbling sound of space distorting. Within thirty seconds, the Cantankerous Tankard Tavern was gone. Only an empty parking lot in its place.

“What?! How?!” Tave almost gagged on the question in his shock.

Iver turned around and patted Tave on the shoulder in concealment. “Vala’s got a special brand of Wyrd.”

While Tave gawked at the vacant space, Iver slipped his hands back into his jacket pockets and said, “Best get some rest, kid. I’ll see you tonight.” He then walked into the smog of the city streets, to vanish like a phantom.

To be Continued