“And here, your excellency, you have all the papers,” he offered the dossier.

The newly appointed Minister took it, looked at the papers, and signed the last one. Opening a folder, he took an envelope and offered it to Istaìnn.

“Your check with the severance package and the bonus. I wish you a happy road in life, sir. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

The spy looked him in the eyes.

“Thank you, your excellency. I wish you the best of luck in the job.”

Instead of leaving the building by the nearest exit, he made a detour. He entered the External Correspondence Receiving bureau without knocking. Inside, the three employees he had met once before jumped to their feet, recognizing him.

“At ease, for goodness sake, we’re not the military! I’m just passing by.”

He went through the bureau and stopped in the outer door’s frame, with his forehead touching the wood. This was the door that led him to another life, toward the girls he loved, and he wanted to leave his job through the same door. His eyes were watering. He gathered his courage, opened the door, took a deep breath, sighed, and went out.

He chose some back alleys, walking carelessly, letting his shoes play with the fallen leaves. At some point, he crossed a small band of kids, playing, and their play was a funny representation of his own adventures and companions. A solid boy was Pumpkin, trying to bite another slimmer and smaller boy's ear, while a girl was imitating a shy princess waiting to be rescued. Two other boys were arguing:

“No, it’s impossible,” said the first, and the second was arguing back: “My uncle spoke with Roybert, who was there. It’s true, the horse and knight heads from one hit. Schbang and Pam!” he imitated the hit with a stick.

He couldn’t refrain from laughing, which attracted the kids' attention.

“Hey, isn’t that the Spy?” asked ar girl who was playing at archery along with a boy with glasses.

“Nah,” replied the boy, taking a look. “I saw the Spy at the Coronation ceremony. He’s much taller and handsome. And he gets out only by night. The Shadow, remember? He’s nicknamed The Shadow. Let me show you my skills in archery now! I’m the poet!”

Thirty steps farther, a loud noise of breaking glass, a cat mewling, and a loud scolding woman voice caught back with him, a sign that the archery play didn’t go very well.

Kids! he thought and smiled. There were a lot of newspapers that detailed their adventures, and each had a different version. After another two alleys, he stopped in front of a tavern. The sign was reading: The Five Friends. Restaurant, Pastries, and Martial Training Dojo. In small letters, it was written: By appointment of their majesties the Twin Queens.

The weather was still lovely, and the terrace open. He went to his table, which was permanently reserved for them despite the local being quite frequented.

“Hi, Istaìnn!” he got saluted.

“Hi, Tosh! Pancakes, please, and a corretto. And some lemonade.

“I’ll bring you one pancake and some cake. Veea just made it, and you know she’ll be upset if you don’t try it.”

“As you wish.”

While waiting, he looked around. A fiery debate from a nearby table got his attention.

“Everybody deserves dignity, on the Realm, even the Head-Hunters,” was saying an elegant man.

He immediately recognized the Credible Liar and went to his table. Next to the Liar, another man with very similar looks.

“Good evening,” he greeted.

The Liar rose and saluted him back, shaking hands.

“What an honor! Please, sit with us. We were debating about those poor savages, the head-hunters. I want to start a charity for them. After all, every sentient deserves to get a second chance.”

The spy nodded slowly but remained on his feet.

“As you did. Get a second chance, I mean..,” he said in a compassionate tone. “I often wish that more of your Other colleagues had made your choice.”

The Liar shivered, crooking his back.

“Things are what they are," he replied. “We all had that choice at some point. Don’t bother overthinking about us; go on with your life and be happy. It is better this way, for everybody.”

Noticing Toshamiel putting his order on his table, the spy decided to shorten the conversation.

“I see you have the same walking stick. Can I take a look, please?” he asked, but he took the stick without waiting for approval.

The crystal ball was now tarnished, spotted, and crackled.

“One nice piece of quartz. Just needs a little more care.”

He pulled his handkerchief, spat in it, and wiped the crystal.

“Here. I wish you all the best in your endeavors,” Istaìnn offered the walking stick back. The crystal was now spotless, whole, shining softly with an inner light. The Liar took the object, looked at it first, then at the spy.

“Thank you!” he said slowly. “Thank you very much!”

The young man nodded and returned to his table, where he was greeted by Diago, dressed in his training gear.

“How’s it going?” Istaìnn asked his friend. “I received a fat check from my ministry: a bonus and a severance package. Quite a lot of money, I thought, to split it in three. You and Lau deserve your fair share. You probably need a lot of cash for the restaurant.”

“Keep your money; we’re doing great on our own. Anyway, I received my own bonus from d’Ornia.”

“As you wish,” said the spy. “Lau refused too. He got double his diamonds’ price from the girls and left for the Autarchy with a blimp two days ago. Did you knew he was pardoned?”

“I’m glad for him. No, I had no idea.”

“And he got engaged too. Beautiful girl, the daughter of a wealthy merchant family. A head taller than him, but well… that was to be expected,” he smiled.

“As a matter of fact, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he answered after he drank his coffee.

“You know that the girls are friends with Missy, and Missy is a friend of Veea, yes? And they talk together like girls use to do.”

Yes, especially Missy, she talks like a windbag!

“And?” he asked, frowning because he had an excellent guess as to where the discussion was heading.

“Is it true that you proposed to the girls at the Coronation party? But you’ve mentioned you cannot choose who one to marry?”

“It’s not your business, but yes,” he admitted, sulking. “I’ve told them that I love them both, too much to be able to choose. I’ve let them decide if any of them shares the same feelings and would accept to make me the happiest man alive.”

“Good grief…” exclaimed the duelist. “Such diplomacy, tact, and finesse. Your Majesties, I cannot choose whom to marry; flip a coin and let me know!”

“You make it sound much worse than I’ve said it!”

“But it’s the same idea…. Couldn't you just pick one at random? Now you’re a celebrity and wealthy, and no one in Ohst frowns about Royalty marrying a hero. With your elven blood and your wizard ancestors, you are a sort of nobility on your own. You had all the chances if only you could pick one. A woman must feel desired, the one and only…”

“Do you know something?” asked the spy. “They didn’t answer yet. I’m dying on the inside!”

“Actually, no, I don’t, but it’s obvious: they’ll both refuse. Veea and Missy are furious with you, and I suppose the Queens will listen to their best friends. Plus, this is not the way to treat the ladies. I think you should just take a trip around the Realm for a year or two, maybe you’ll find true lo…”

“Seriously! The girls and I fought monsters together, we listened to your poetry together, shared our lives more deeply in a few months than a normal couple does in twenty years, and now you tell me to just go out to search for whomever? Forget it!”

“Well, that was a piece of friendly advice, but suit yourself,” the duelist raised his shoulders. “Now excuse me, I have a class. See you!”

Istaìnn was furious. While arguing, he had eaten all the food without even noticing the taste, and good food was important to him. He left the terrace, ignoring the frowning look Veea gave him on his way out.

Somehow, his own feet carried him on the same path he had taken that fateful night, the market and Stock Exchange, the street of his professor. He saw a sign, the house was for sale, probably his teacher's son was not interested in keeping it. He went up the Grand Stairs, and once he finished the steps, he turned around, taking in the City's view. On that fateful day, it was lighted by the dawn, now it bathed in the last rays of the dusk.

Instead of heading to his new home, he took a tour of the Upper City. Some nobles, doing their evening running routine, saluted him, and he saluted back. Half an hour later, he arrived at the square where he had fought the archers in front of the Golden Chicken tavern. The tavern and the buildings around were closed. They had been bought by the City and were to be demolished, making place for an aerodrome.

The first piece of that aerodrome was already built, a monument designed to guard the gates. Istaìnn had been present at the inauguration. The bronze statue represented his cousin, Faredhiel. His face to the City, the elf had in his right hand a globe, raised to the sky. The attitude of a warrior who stops the enemies from getting past him. And as it was planned, now, it was pointing directly to the Second Moon.

The spy shivered. A third of the Moon was missing, and the immense crater of the wound was still expelling material, offering each night a firework show. The dust from the moon, slowly attracted by the planet, burning in contact with the Realm’s atmosphere.

On the pedestal, just a few words.

FAREDHIEL. A true elf!

It was Feyra’s idea, and they all agreed to it. In the end, the elf had sacrificed himself for the City and for the Realm.

The night had come, and he finally went to his new home, the former d’Ornian embassy. D’Ornia needed a much larger building now, and the Governor had offered him the house for a pittance. He had accepted gratefully. He loved that house and those he had met in that house.

He entered through the same back door, with the same old doorman dozing on the job. He had no guards, but his warding spells were worth an army. First, he made a detour to the kitchen.

“Hi, kid, finally, you’re home!” the cook, who was still there, greeted him. “Let me guess. You ate out!”

“Please forgive me, madam!” he excused himself.

“Nevermind. Here, drink this medicinal tonic tea; it will make you sleep better! I prepared it myself.”

“I’m not really thirsty,” he tried to avoid the beverage.

“This is not optional. Drink it, I say!”

How on the Realm will a tonic make me sleep better? he thought but obeyed. The drink was a tchai, strong black tea boiled in milk together with spices.

“It is delicious!” he said.

“Thanks, kid. Now, goodnight.”

He followed the same path and went to the same room in which they had met. His bedroom, now. The room was in the dark, and he let it so. He threw his shoes wherever, untied his tie, took his coat off, then went to the windows, opening them wide. He sat in front of them, on a couch, enjoying the shooting stars and the calm and scented air.

He sighed. He did that a lot lately. The freshness of the night and the smells of the autumn, fallen leaves, burnt leaves, were making him dizzy.

A slight air movement through the room, very subtle, and two small hands covered his eyes. He jolted and put his own hands over hers.

They chose! he thought, half relieved, half tensed.

The girl’s head approached his from behind, whispering in his ear.

“You owe me a kiss. You never kissed me!”

Heyra!

His soul was singing with joy and mourning with sorrow. Fulfilled love was sweet like honey, yearning the other, like a knife in his chest. He was missing her, Feyra, with her serious eyes, with her wise advice. That serious attitude that made him wish to sweep her off her feet and love her with passion. He remembered how they had suffered together in silence, under Diago’s poetry, joking about it, and how close he was to lose her, on the Ship… He tried not to think about it anymore.

Heyra turned around the coach, and he pulled her to him. She mounted on his lap, her knees enclosing his thighs. He kissed her, caressing her neck; they kissed until they were both breathless. She pushed his chest with a hand, making him lean back on the couch, then she leaned toward him, crushing her chest against his, and they kissed again because breathlessness doesn’t last long when it comes to desire. She then kissed him on a cheek and unmounted him, coming to sit next to him on the couch, on the left side.

What have I done wrong? he panicked, but in the next moment, sharp and small teeth were biting his right ear’s lobe from behind.

“Don’t fear love because in love lays the truth. Remember those words?” came the whisper. “Here’s your answer. twice blessed and something smart wizard!”

He turned his head back, awkwardly. They kissed, then Feyra went and sat to his right side, leaning her head against his shoulder, while Heyra did the same on her side. They looked at the sky together, enjoying the shower of falling stars.