The inn was quiet, dreadfully empty, and deserted, with only a single barman who was half-asleep until Ano and Talisman plopped themselves on two ramshackle chairs. The chairs, in return, squawked under their weight.

“Evening, gentlemen. What can I get you?” The barman’s voice was dull, lacking enthusiasm.

Talisman glanced at the menu for a moment, then back at the barman. “A glass of the finest red, if you would be so kind.”

“Coming right up,” the barman muttered, grabbing a bottle and a glass.

Ano leaned against the bar, her eyes scanning the room. “So, what’s on your mind, Talisman? You don’t usually summon me for idle chit-chat.”

Talisman accepted the glass of wine with a nod of thanks, swirling the deep red liquid within it.

“I don’t? I believe we talk often.”

Ano rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. We don’t have many heart-to-heart conversations, so spit it out.”

Talisman took a sip of the wine, savoring the taste before he spoke. “I wanted to discuss Solus.”

Ano raised an eyebrow. “The half-elf we just dealt with? What about him?”

“Are you sure he had no enemies? He seemed... rather unpleasant.”

Ano shrugged, a nonchalant expression on her face. “He might have rubbed some people the wrong way, but in the grand scheme of things, he was just another insignificant speck in this city.”

“I—”

“Look.” Ano turned her head, waving the bartender over. “People didn’t like him. But no one is actively seeking his demise. Do you know how many sad beggars and drunks did the same as him during the Demon Lord’s war? Plenty. He wasn’t special.”

The bartender shuffled over, his expression still bored. “What can I get you?”

“Beer. Swine’s swill if you got it.”

“Swine’s swill it is,” the bartender grumbled, pouring a mug of brackish ale.

Talisman observed Ano for a moment. His lips pressed into a thin line. “You seem awfully dismissive about this.”

Ano shrugged again, taking the mug from the bartender. “Look, Talisman, I get that you like to be thorough and all, but sometimes a shitty person is just a shitty person. And sometimes people forget.”

“No one is going to look for him?”

Ano took a sip of her ale, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Talisman, let me break it down for you. Solus was a miserable beggar, someone who lived and died in the gutters. He was a nobody, and the city is filled with nobodies. Nobody is going to notice or care that he’s gone. Even if they do, they’ll just assume he drank himself to death in some alley somewhere, and they will just think ‘good riddance’ and move on.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“That’s... somewhat sad.”

“Hey, you heard what he did. He was a real piece of work.”

“But my dear Ano, I don’t think I’m any better.”

The silence lingered as Ano drank.

----------------------------------------

It was morning when the doves sang their song, and it was morning when Talisman was excitedly waving his hand in Ano’s general direction. Ano, in turn, scowled while holding her head, a hangover.

“Ugh, Talisman, can you not be so damn cheerful? My head feels like it’s splitting open.”

Talisman grinned.

“Ah, my dear Ano, the morning brings with it a new day filled with possibilities! The sun rises, and so do I! Is that an oxymoron? It might be.”

Ano groaned, her voice filled with irritation.

“Can you rise a little less loudly? Some of us are nursing a headache.”

“Who? The ghosts?” Talisman gestured at the empty common room.

The fact that it was morning instead of midnight did not affect its destitution. In fact, Ano had chosen it specifically for that reason, the Drunken Drake, the number one deadland inn in the City of Hassef.

Ano shot Talisman a withering glare. “Yes, the ghosts of last night’s choices. Very funny. Now, could you please let me kill myself in peace?”

Talisman chuckled, pouring himself a glass of wine. “Ah, the woes of mortals and their delicate constitutions.”

“I swear, if you don’t quiet down, I’m going to use one of those ‘magical curiosities’ from yesterday to make you experience a hangover.”

Talisman’s grin faltered slightly. “Now, now, let’s not be hasty. No need for such drastic measures.”

Ano rubbed her temples, wincing at a phantom pain. “Just let me wallow in misery for a bit, okay?”

“But what about the pie!? The steak! The pastries! The inn’s culinary delights await us!”

Ano shot him a withering glare. “I said, let me wallow.”

Talisman’s grin returned, though a bit more subdued. “Very well, my dear Ano. Wallow away.”

With a sigh of relief, Ano leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and trying to shut out the throbbing pain in her head. Talisman continued to sip his wine, humming a tune under his breath, almost annoyingly so.

After a while, Ano couldn’t take it anymore. “Ugh, fine, I surrender. Just stop with the humming.”

Talisman chuckled, setting his glass of wine aside. “Ah, so you’ve emerged from your cocoon of misery.”

“Fuck you.”

Ano sat down on the edge of her chair, her scowl only half-serious. “So, what’s the plan for today? Are we continuing with our [Merchant] charade?”

“How about we explore the city? Get our bearings aligned, and so on. Do you know the major landmarks of the city, my dear Ano?”

“Let’s see.” Ano counted on her hand. “There’s the demon spire in the center of the city, the market district to the west, the Temple of Light on the north, and the [Duke] ’s palace to the east.”

Talisman nodded approvingly. “Excellent. I see your observational skills are not entirely dulled. Shall we split up and gather information for the rest of our journey? Who knows... traces of the amulet might just appear.”

Ano rubbed her temples again. She had been doing that a lot lately. “Fine, but I swear to the pantheon, if you start humming again while I’m out there, I’ll... I’ll find a way to make your undead existence as miserable as I feel right now. It is a national crime.”

Talisman raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fear not, my dear Ano. I shall keep my humming to a minimum. Now, go forth and gather information, and I shall do the same.”

Ano pushed herself up from the chair, shooting Talisman one last glare before stumbling towards the door. “If I don’t come back, please assume I’ve drowned myself in the nearest gutter.”

Talisman laughed softly. “Ah, the melodrama of the human condition. Farewell, my dearest Ano. May your quest for information be fruitful.”

As Ano left the inn, Talisman leaned back in his chair, his smile fading. He looked out the window, his eyes narrowing as he considered the task at hand. The Holy Order was approaching, and Talisman needed to get this over with. Hassef was a mere stop on a larger journey.

With a sip of his wine, he let the taste linger on his tongue. Mortal food and drink gave no nutrition, but he savored the sensations they evoked. The tang of the wine, and the warmth it spread, were indulgences he allowed himself. Memory.

Talisman stood up and left through the door. The Demon’s spire, a relic of the Demon War, seemed interesting enough for his first destination. Plus, Talisman always had loved architecture.