Closing Time

The doors to The Infinite Hourglass had closed some time ago. But even if the day was done, the business of the shop didn’t end with the setting of the sun. Jack sat in a secluded table in the back of the tavern, books open before him, ale mug still only half empty, and his thoughts still awhirl. He leaned back and considered the open ledger and recipe cards before him. So much had changed since he’d first wandered into the little outpost two years past, with a handful of coppers in his purse, a cheap sword at his side, and all his wordly possessions in a pack on his back. Instead of wondering where his next meal was coming from, or how long it would be until he would eat, he had coin enough to spare and a roof over his head, and a shop to run. He had friends, and his own growing circle of found family, people he could trust and who trusted him.

A paw tapped his shin softly, and he idly reached down to pet the cat that wandered about the tavern betimes. He looked down at the half-closed green eyes and the brown and gray striped face, then blinked slowly, cat-speak for something reassuring. It worked the same way here as it did where he came from, so at least that much was still right.

“Am I not giving you enough petting, Asa?” he asked. Asa, the tabby who sat next to his left leg, jumped up on the bench and rubbed her cheek against the edge of the table. “Ah, you’re being starved to skin and bones. I see how it is. You poor, neglected thing!” He reached out and plucked the remains of a chicken wing from his plate.

“Mrowr?” Asa said. Jack wasn’t sure exactly what it meant, but it felt like it was an order to deposit the scrap on the floor. He complied, and Asa grabbed her prize, out the door before he could make a remark. He stared out the open doorway into the moonless night, his thoughts dragged back to the events of the day.

Back home, an eclipse was an occasion of joy, because Sun-God Edan and Lucine, the Lady of the Moon, were able to see each other, that rare time when the palace Edan had built for his beloved blocked out the light of his own golden home, the very light Sirvaqt, the goddess of pain and torture, had caused Lucine to fear and recoil from. It was the rare meeting of two lovers. And it could be predicted like the tides. BUt here, even the ever wise Kalen posited that the eclipse had been caused by things on the ground rather than the movements of the celestial palaces through the heavens. But the Beastfolk had known the eclipse would be that day, and had chosen it for their ritual. And, like in his old world, the eclipse happened on a day with no moon in the night sky, and the barest sliver in the daytime sky. When day became night, and night became day. It certainly looked like the eclipses he remembered. But was it? Or did the celestial objects move at the whim of rituals performed by mere mortals? The thought woudl not take hold in his hea,d but he neighter could he evict it outright from his brain. He simply didn’t know enought to say.

Things had only gotten worse after the eclipse. The earthquake, the stone, the painting. The chaos of so many folks doing different things. So many narratives, so many assumptions. And for every assumption came the firm belief that they were right. Certain, resolute, and ever so diverse. Jack looked around the room, and saw the mix of emotions that told him that tensions still ran as deep as convictions. Some had been swayed, others were still firm in their beliefs. Jack looked down at the ledger he was writing in, his own convictions divided.

“If ya dinnae question yerself, yer like ta go to wrong an’ stay there, lad.” Old Man Parker’s voice bounced through his memories, the burr in his Sarmatian accent one of the reassuring things he remembered of his growing years. The different approaches might be a good thing. It certainly kept them from dismissing everything else out of hand.

“At least it keeps our minds open,” he said to himself. And soon, it would have them on the road, seeking more information. That seemed to be the only sensible thing, if they were to help stop the end of the world.