“You hear the rumors, Marcus?” Nolgin asked.

There was a quizzical expression on his thin face as he eyed me around the lip of his mug of ale.

He was tall, thinly muscled, and as he tipped his drink back, his fine brown hair rushed back, only to sweep over and cover his dull green eyes when he came up.

I shrugged as he set it down. “Depends on which ones you’re talking about.” I gestured with my chin to his nearly empty mug. “You want another?”

Nolgin chuckled and slid his glass across the stained oak counter. “Eh, why not?”

As I took the glass, my eyes slid across the bar as I checked on the rest of my patrons.

The Silver’s Edge Tavern was in full swing this evening, with hardly enough space along the chestnut floorboards to move, let alone maneuver through the cramped space. All of the round tables were filled with boisterous drunks, and one even had a game of cards going, stacks of coins, and too many empty wooden mugs lined up around it.

But by luck or the grace of God, my small corner along the bar was mercifully free from the usual annoyances.

A glance told me that no one required my services, so I turned around and refilled Nolgin’s mug from one of several casks that lined the wall behind me, along with a veritable horde of spirits and liquors.

My reflection caught between the bits of foam atop the golden liquid as I finished pouring.

Though my short salt and pepper black hair had way more salt than pepper in it these days, I was at least grateful it didn’t go the way of my beard and mustache, which were nearly completely white. Most of my features were hidden by my neatly groomed scruff, but my shallow cheekbones and narrow sapphire eyes gave me an almost villainous appearance.

And the crow’s feet don’t really help at all.

Nolgin grinned as he took the ale and downed a third of it, setting it back down with a  satisfied smack of his lips.

“Delicious, but back to my question. The rumors of trouble along the Adean border?”

I shook my head. “Nothing I’ve heard. What’s going on with the demons?”

He shook his head, taking another sip. “Dunno, just heard a few whispers of trouble during my shift last night.”

Yeah, well, Adean’s been quiet for years. A little dust-up now doesn’t surprise me.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Nope. Just a few murmurs here and there.” He sighed. “Was hoping you’d heard something.”

“’Fraid not. Only gossip I’ve gotten recently that I put any stock in is that nest of drakes Charlie supposedly took down single-handedly.”

He grinned. “Yeah. Heard that too. I miss that girl. And speaking of girls, you care to cover me tomorrow? Marissa’s planning something special for our anniversary, I think.”

I was about to respond when the tavern filled with raised voices, followed swiftly by the thud of wooden chairs as they crashed to the floorboards.

The voices grew louder, yelling about a hand of cards, and I sighed.

“Yeah, sure. Leave me to babysit the drunks alone.”

“Only because you’re the best at it.”

A smile lifted the corner of my lip as I leaned on the counter. “Lord knows you’ve given me enough experience over the years.”

Nolgin thumbed back at the table of card players, who were in each other’s faces, shouting over their game about someone cheating. “You gonna diffuse that?”

“It’s your bar too. You’re making me play bouncer?” I snorted.

He grinned sheepishly, draining the last of his ale. “Yeah, well, you’re better at it than me.”

“I break less furniture, you mean.”

“That’s what I said,” he replied with a laugh and tapped his glass. “Let me get another round before you get busy.”

“Drink us dry, why don’t you?”

I turned and fetched him another ale and was about to slide it across the bar top to him when a small flash of pain surged from the base of my spine up to my neck, and a sharp spike of white-hot agony lanced into my left eye.

My vision split for a second, and even as I registered what I was seeing, it faded. I winced as my sight returned to normal.

“Dammit it all,” I said as I dropped my hand and adjusted the collar of my crisp white shirt, and straightened my vest as I willed a thread of mana into my clothing before chugging the ale in my other hand.

“My drink,” Nolgin moaned.

Just as I spoke, there was the low thud I expected, and I turned in response as one of the men slammed his fist across the jaw of the other and sent him tumbling back.

He was young, just old enough to drink with barely a whisker on his pale cheeks and his sandy blond hair in disarray. He landed against a chair and quickly scrambled up.

As he stood, the man who punched him shoved a few chairs out of the way as he stalked over. He was just as young as the other man, maybe a little older with a wiry build and short brown hair.

And we both knew the fight wasn’t over yet.

I spat a curse and vaulted over the bar, and as I landed, something tore in my back, and fire crawled up my skin as a low ache settled in my shoulder.

The kid who’d been hit snarled in fury and grabbed a nearby empty mug from one of the tables beside him.

He reared back, but as he swung, the heavy glass careened straight toward Nolgin, who wasn’t going to be able to get out of the way in time.

It’d crush his face if it landed.

I rushed forward as adrenaline dulled the pain in my shoulder and caught the young man’s hand right before it would’ve hit my friend. I twisted his wrist, breaking the hold he had on the glass, and shoved him away from the two of us.

The blond kid jerked as he stopped and whirled on me, rage alight in his brown eyes.

“The hell was that?” he shouted, their fight momentarily forgotten as I became Blondie’s focus of attention.

“Not in my bar. You wanna fight? Take it outside.”

“You wanna die, old man?”

He raised his fist like he was going to swing on me and his question hung in the air.

The bar had gotten quiet when the fight had started, and all the other patrons were looking at us.

Even Nolgin watched with a smirk, waiting for my response.

I sighed and glanced at him as my eyes narrowed in annoyance as I subtly shifted my stance. I placed the stolen mug back on the table where it belonged, never breaking eye contact.

“Are you sure you want to do that, son?”

He opened his mouth to fire off whatever insult his brain could think of, but as I held his gaze, he paused and slowly shut it.

Whether it was my eyes, or my calm voice and demeanor, he lowered his fist, the previous anger on his face fading.

I nodded, fighting a smile. “Now, you boys, pick up those chairs you knocked over, pay your tab, and kindly leave this establishment.”

Blondie nodded, but the brown-haired boy clicked his tongue and sneered at me. “Who the hell do you think you are─”

His words were cut off by Nolgin slamming his mug down on the bar. “Jero and Tam, you two are banned for two weeks. I’m telling you to pack your stuff up, pay up, and get the hell outta our bar. And don’t let me catch you here until then!”

Nolgin, for being rather skinny, had the height advantage over the two youths, and his voice was terrifying as it had been when he’d been a soldier.

It had its desired effect, and the boys nearly jumped out of their skin when he shouted. But they quickly masked their fear with anger and bravado.

Both of them turned to me as they picked up their chairs and swept the cards and coins off the table in a rush. The brown-haired man grabbed a handful of lyra and slapped them down on the counter as he glared at me.

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“This isn’t over, old man.” He jeered. “Count on that!”

With that thinly disguised threat, they fled the tavern.

As soon as the door slammed behind them, everything returned to normal, and the music picked back up.

I swept up their coin and grabbed an untouched ale on their table, and I drained it before sighing as I wiped the last of the foam from my beard before picking at a strand as I walked back around the counter.

“Thanks for the help, Nol,” I said.

“Eh, I just didn’t want to clean up all the blood.” He nodded toward the door as he leaned against the bar. “Think they’re going to be a problem?”

I cocked my head to the side as I focused on my left eye. As before, a sharp surge of pain starting as pins and needles grew from the nape of my neck and stung their way up my neck as it grew in intensity.

Sights flashed across my vision of what had yet to come. I held on as long as I could, but after a few seconds, the pain became too much, and I gasped softly as I pulled myself out of the future.

My hands shook slightly as I curled my fingers into a fist hard enough that my trimmed nails bit into my flesh. As the pain vanished, I looked up at Nolgin and nodded.

“Yeah, I’d say they’re going to be a bit of a nuisance.”

“What did Foresight show you?” he asked as he turned around and reached for something on the shelf.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I said as I rose from the bar.

A slew of subtle pops echoed from my shoulder and the pain I’d been ignoring returned in spades.

Damn body of mine.

I cursed inwardly, but the small aches and pains were nothing compared to my use of foresight. I’d long gotten used to the noises my joints made without my consent just as surely as I’d gotten used to my silver hair.

No one could weather the passage of time unscathed, not even me.

“Could you do me a favor and watch the bar for a while?”

“Course.” He nodded.

“Thanks.”

I turned around and grabbed a large glass bottle filled with clear liquor along with a small glass tumbler. I poured two fingers worth, and the strong scent of gin filled my nose, and the subtle hint of juniper with a mix of citrus notes filled my mouth as I downed the drink in one gulp.

“I’m going to need it to deal with the headache,” I said as I walked out from behind the bar. “Both of them.”

Before I left the tavern, I willed a little more mana into my clothes, just in case I needed it.

After being in the tavern for a few hours, the moonlit night air was bracing as a stiff breeze tugged at my vest and ruffled my hair and beard. The fabric warmed automatically as I casually fixed my hair and started down the dirt street toward Uptown.

But as I’d foreseen, I hadn’t taken more than a dozen steps before the rhythmic thudding of footsteps approached from behind me.

I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Jero and Tam had returned as promised, but this time they were accompanied by four other men. All held the smoothness of youth on their faces, but their eyes were aged beyond their years. That and the shabby clothes they wore told me of the lives they lived.

They weren’t Lowtown, too grimy, which meant they were members of the slums. Vagrants from the war had nowhere else to go and no prospects.

“This ‘im,” the oldest of the lot said, smiling as the moon overhead reflected in his dark eyes.

“Yeah, that’s the guy, Braxton,” Jero said.

The leader, Braxton, scoffed. “You got punked by some old fart over twice your age?” he looked to Jero and sneered. “How pathetic.” He turned to me and smiled wide. “But look at the clothes on ‘im. Mus’ be a noble, so I’ll let it slide. We’re gonna feast like kings tonight, boys!”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, knowing I was about to waste my breath, but I had to try anyway.

“Walk away. You still have that option. This doesn’t have to happen.”

Let’s see if we can alter the future just a bit.

I reached into my vest and pulled out a small cloth bag filled with a meager amount of coin. I tossed it to the leader, and he caught it with one hand, never taking his eyes from mine.

“Consider it wergild for the barfight. Take it and go. You can eat on that for a good long while.”

Braxton jangled the coins and grinned as his eyes lit up. “Oh, got us a whale all right.” His smile darkened. “But if you gave this up that easily, it makes me wonder what else you have hidden.

“And just because you paid up doesn’t make us square, old man. We’ll take payment out of yer hide, and just maybe you’ll live to regret it.”

He held his hand out like a general telling his army to go to war, but this whelp had no idea the true nature of the meaning, what it meant to lead men to their deaths.

“Get the geezer!” he shouted.

At once, the mob frenzied and rushed me.

My blood rushed through my veins, and all the aches of age that crept over my bones vanished as my adrenaline surged like wildfire.

Three of them were faster than the others and reached me first. Two of them pincered me from the sides while one came at me straight on.

I caught the first one with a strong front left kick that sank into his stomach with brutal efficiency. He doubled over with a heavy gasp as all the air was crushed out of his lungs. As I landed, I pivoted to the left and whipped my foot across the man’s jaw.

A sharp crack of bone echoed through the dusty street as his jaw unhinged, and a heavy vibration numbed my leg from the impact.

I ignored it and grabbed the man by the collar, and threw him over my shoulder into my final opponent on the right. The two men collided and went down in a heap of pain as they hit the dusty ground.

My breathing was high, and sweat beaded along my forehead and neck, which slipped down my face to soak into my shirt. It’d only been a handful of seconds, yet my heart hammered like a beating drum in my chest.

It’s almost funny. I remember when I could fight for hours without stopping, yet a small dustup with many punks leaves me sucking down air.

I could do nothing about it now, and I still had a few more men left to deal with.

Braxton let out a guffawing laugh and held his hands up as he strolled forward. “Looks like the old bastard has some fight in ‘im.” He glanced at the three men left standing beside himself. “Well, what are you fools waiting for. Get ‘im!”

They looked from their boss to me and then to their friends on the ground in a heap of misery. Hesitation filled their faces, and I sighed as I rolled my shoulder back and forth, trying to work out the kinks.

“Can hurry this up? I don’t have all night.”

“Don’t get cocky!” He shouted and pushed past his subordinates, bringing his fists up.

He threw a swift punch, but he lowered his center of gravity and leaned too heavily on his back leg as he set up his feint.

I slipped his strike, and he grinned wide as he brought his leg up in a sharp roundhouse kick. I stepped back and raised my knee as I tucked in my core—his shin connected with the meat of my leg and stopped completely.

“You were too obvious,” I said and turned sharply before slamming my fist into his stomach.

A sharp pain spasmed across my back as the muscle I’d pulled in my shoulder earlier flared up without warning, and my body went cold as my breath caught in my chest.

My punch only had half the power it should have, and rather than sending the punk flying back, I was the one who doubled over as I fought down the sudden pain from my shoulder blade.

“Damn,” I cursed and stood as I took a few shallow breaths as I tried to stand.

As I stood, so too did Braxton. He smirked at me, not knowing the real reason why he was still on his feet.

“Wow, you’re weak.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small dagger. “Let me do you a favor and just put you out of your misery!”

The blade flashed in the moonlight and whispered as it parted the air around it as it arced toward my heart.

As I tried to bring my hand up to block it, my body was slow to respond because of my shoulder. I missed his wrist and just ended up leaning into his strike.

Braxton’s blade struck me in the chest with every last bit of his power behind it.

A sharp crack spilled the air, and he looked down as his dagger sopped cold on my vest and shattered on impact. A dozen shards of steel twinkled in the moonlight as they rained to the dirt road between us.

“What the─?” he stood holding the handle of his dagger, his eyes wide in disbelief. “How did you─?”

I stood gently as the pain in my back faded to a dull ache and brushed the spot where his dagger had struck as if there was an imaginary speck of dust on my clothes.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” I said and as I swept my hand over my vest once more, casually dispelling the enchantment over it.

My entire body shimmered like a mirage as my pristine outfit shifted to a shining silver mix of plate mail and chainmail. The chain stopped at my waist while large silver pauldrons and a chestplate appeared and greaves molded around my legs.

Where once stood an old man in a suit, I now stood before them in full armor.

His eyes went wide at the sight, and he backed up on instinct as the rest of his lackeys stood there petrified.

“Is that─it can’t be.” Braxton’s jaw hung slack. “Elven mithril!” He looked at me in a new light, and fear crossed his eyes. “Who are you?”

I held my hand up, and a small purple vortex appeared in front of me as I reached into my storage space and pulled out a hand and a half sword, and passed it to my left hand.

The scabbard was polished lapis lazuli, while the sword itself was silver. The hilt was engraved with intricate swirls, and the handle was wrapped in dyed blue leather with a single large sapphire held in the pommel.

The sword radiated an overwhelming aura as soon as I pulled it out and slid it into its rightful place at my side.

“I’m just an old bartender these days,” I said.

This was true, even if people had very short attention spans. I’d long since faded from memory, but the shining silver sword in my hands was a symbol that most still recognized.

All of the men stared dumbstruck at the blade, realization dawning across their faces.

“It’s the Silverblade!” One of the men said, pointing at my sword. “He’s the Silverblade Hero!”

A round of gasps erupted from the thugs, and they immediately turned and ran as Braxton paled and fell back to the ground as his legs failed him.

I walked to him and towered over him as he held his hands up in fear and curled in on himself.

“Please, sir, I didn’t know! Forgive me!”

I reached a hand towards him. He flinched and moved his hands as if to deflect a blow as he scrunched up his eyes. I ignored him and grabbed my pouch of coins from his belt, and stood back up.

His eyes shot open at the clink of coin, and his gaze locked on the purse in my hands.

“I Told you that you should’ve just taken the coin and left.” I scowled before I sighed and tossed it back to him. “Take the coin and make something of yourself. Strive to be better than your lot in life.”

As I finished speaking, he scrambled to his feet before bowing to me. Braxton held the coin to his chest and took off at a dead sprint down the street, kicking up a storm of dust as he fled.

Once he left and the street quieted once more, I checked to ensure I was alone before I sighed and hunched over with my hands on my knees as my body was wracked with pain.

Sweat poured down me, and I let out a breathless chuckle.

“Good thing they all took off. I doubt I could’ve fought them with my back like this.” I stood and winced as even more misery flared to life.

“Ran ragged by a bunch of kids,” I said, laughed at myself as I placed a hand to my chestplate, using a bit of magic to conceal my armor. It shimmered as it dissolved and returned to my normal dress shirt, vest and trousers. I shook my head and tugged at my beard. “Oh, how far I’ve fallen.”

The familiar yet long-forgotten weight of Silverblade at my side caused me to glance down. I ran a hand over the smooth bluestone and smiled as I reached the hilt.

From fighting dragons and demon lords to scaring a bunch of lowlifes.

It was so ridiculous that I had to laugh.

“Thanks for sticking by my side all these years, old friend.”

I took one last look before I removed it and stowed the blade back in my storage space. As it vanished, I already missed the weight on my hip.

“Better get home. I need to ice my back and stretch, or I’m going to feel like hell in the morning.”

“You already look like it. What’s feeling like it going to matter?” a new, feminine voice called out from my right.

I turned, following the voice, and glanced up.

Sitting atop one of the dilapidated wooden houses was a woman.

Though I hadn’t seen her in too many years, she was as radiant and bubbly as she’d always been. Her face held a classy refinement that belonged in the courts of Islavan’s capital rather than the streets of Weswood.

Long, silken indigo hair spilled ink down her back and over her modest bust that was accented by the burgundy shirt, she wore that revealed the upper portion of her pale chest. A leather corset with a variety of vials and pouches along it hugged her waist and accentuated her hips as she swung her legs up and out as she hopped down to the street.

Dust swirled around her as she landed, and with a smirk on her lips and fire in her bright crimson eyes, she put a hand on her hip, right where a long thin wand made of ash gray wood rested. It held finely detailed etchings along its shaft and a glowing crimson gemstone at the base.

“Heya, Marcus. Been a while,” she said with a smile.

“Ten years, give or take.” I frowned, crossing my arms, fighting the headache I knew was coming. I heaved a deep sigh and shook my head as I met her gaze. “What are you doing here, Charlie?”