There was only one piece of information Hex hoped to learn at the Donner victory feast, and he learnt it much sooner than he would have liked to. He spoke first to Malaya of the Craftman’s Consortium. She held the supposed key to Goldcrest’s civilian industrial apparatus, and Hex wondered if she knew how little of her power remained. The golden currency for which her people used to sell their lives was devaluing by the hour. Come tomorrow morning, her empire would be a thing of the past.

Next, Hex took drinks with a blacksmith by the name of Callum Santus. Callum was a ravenous opportunist, and it was impossible to tell what his rank had been before the Second Golden Campaign. He didn’t boast of any riches, but he seemed quite wealthy in the only currency that mattered anymore - popular support. He was playing the role of ‘the everyday man’, and so far it was working quite well for him. In Hex’ experience, enthusiastic amateurs such as him lived short lives.

Hex then sought out the paladin Valerian Stein in hopes that he would share some of the insight showered upon him by his guild. There were three great arcane guilds which kept the nations of the world from tearing each other apart. The Rangers’ Guild represented peace and open lines of communication. Very few rangers had been resident in Goldcrest valley at the inception time of the Aetheric Wall. The Mages’ Guild represented knowledge and scientific development. They clung tightly to their history books, and even more tightly to their secrets. The Paladin’s Guild represented justice and the enforcement of law. The veterans of the paladin’s guild were indomitable warriors who would do whatever they could to prevent the coming anarchy. Valerian was something of an oaf, though, and he had nothing to share.

It was in his conversation with Tara Donner that Hex suffered his realization. He had been hoping to learn that someone was well enough resourced to keep what remained of civilization in one piece. Tara had been Hex’ last hope, and even she was hopelessly out of her league. So this was the end then. If Hex had any loved ones left, he would have sought them out and kept their company in these last few days of civilized humanity.

Hex did have someone with whom he had found some comfort. Before he could see her, though, he had to talk to a man for which he harbored a very special hatred. It was the mad bird Apollonius deCallion - the man who had killed the first love of Hex’ life.

Apollonius had lived many lives. In the first, he was a sad little orphan boy whose family did not love him enough to keep him out of trouble. In the second, he was a vengeful young man who seized every ingot of power he could find. In the third, he was a hateful warlord whose crimes were so plentiful and diverse that he forgot all but the most heinous ones. In the fourth, he was betrayed by the only people he had ever called loved ones, and he became the madman of DeepWell Prison. In his fifth and last life, he had taken on the pious attitude of the repentant sinner. He had not done so not with the intention of salvaging his soul, but rather because he felt it was the only avenue his life had not yet followed. He did feel guilt. He did desire the making of reparations, but he knew his life thus far was unforgivable. There was only one throughline in Apollonius’ tortured life - Apollonius loved to play. Hex found Apollonius in Goldcrest’s Garden District lying on his back, smoking herbs with Mage Warden Jasper Solarus.

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Even for a member of the Alpha genus, Apollonius was a specimen. He had spent the greater part of his adult life dominating contests of grappling and mixed martial arts, and when he grew tired of them, he allowed himself to become a test subject for experimental muscle implant technology. These implants, in tandem with the steroid rich liquid he called blood, gave him a physique of laughable perfection. Apollonius stood six feet and ten inches tall, and weighed three hundred and eighty five pounds with a body fat quotient of five point three percent. He looked something like the man with whom Hex had been in love. He was just a little more… perfect. In the worst possible way.

“Good evening boys.” Hex addressed the two titans of a world that no longer mattered.

Before the Second Golden Campaign, Jasper had been quite a big deal. He had been tasked with the extra-political oversight of a tumultuous part of the world, and he had done a superlative job. He had owned countless educational institutions, and five of his most brilliant students had gone on to become Mage Wardens themselves. It seemed to Hex, as he watched Jasper take rip after rip of thick polychromatic smoke, that Jasper had given up on the world. He wasn’t one to judge.

Jasper craned his neck to peer at Hex over Apollonius’ monstrous nude body.

“Hex!” he called out happily. “Join us.”

“Can’t,” Hex told him. “I’m in love, you know.” This was untrue, but Hex was curious if it would elicit some response from Apollonius. It did not.

“Oh golly.” Jasper spoke with exasperation. “Let me guess…”

“Why would you? We both know my skull’s not thick enough to keep you out.”

Jasper propped himself upon one badly burnt arm, and invoked a devious bit of arcana he himself had designed for the purpose of sleuthing out secrets. He sought to learn whom Hex was speaking of, and what he found surprised him. He found himself grinning like an inebriated groomsman at his cousin’s wedding.

“Wow. Wow-ow-ow.” He chuckled.

“Is it good?” Apollonius rumbled through an herb-coated throat. In the beginnings of sickness, his voice was so low that he sounded like the demon he was.

“Yessir.”

The secret that Jasper had uncovered was a sensitive one, and its divulgence could cause serious issues in Hex’ life. Hex wasn’t worried, though. Jasper was far too great a man to deal in something as petty as secrets. Jasper was also, however, too important a man to learn what Hex was hoping to share with Apollonius.

Weary and frustrated, Hex took his leave. As he stepped over the two prone smokers, he reached down to grab Apollonius’ big toe. He was not entirely sure why he did it, but as he walked away, he felt quite a bit lighter. He could not recall what he had come to tell Apollonius. There was something very wrong with Hex’ mind. He had fallen prey to a chronic illness, and this illness would not leave him until the day he died.