Chapter Five

Just as we had planned, Wiatt and I left Chicomecoatl as soon as dawn broke.

In order to reach Xipe-Totec within the next few days, we had to ride faster, especially because our supplies wouldn’t last forever, even though we’d resupplied at Chicomecoatl. And we didn’t have enough money to stay in each city for longer either, so preserving our supplies was essential.

And so, we rode onwards, struggling to make conversation to pass the time.

“There’s quite a cool sea breeze here.”

“I wonder how tall those mountains are.”

“It seems that the Great Stone Road really is maintained well.”

“It’s quite warm today, isn’t it?”

“The sea is very pretty.”

Honestly, this journey was a lot less exciting than I imagined it would be.

I mean, I was still quite in awe that a city like Chicomecoatl could even exist in our world, and it was a beautiful place, but the paths between the Narrow were barren and, after seeing nothing but gorgeous scenery all day, we quickly grew bored of it.

Though, having such a sparkling ocean to gaze at as we rode was very soothing. It was much better than riding across the dirt roads or empty plains in the Westerlands.

Usually, this part of the sea would have a number of large merchant ships and patrol vessels in it, both from the Westerlands and the Green but, now, there were no ships in the waters.

Or so I thought.

As the sun reached its peak and turned to set, Wiatt, who had been absentmindedly staring out to the ocean, suddenly pulled on his reins and called his horse to stop.

“Sir,” he said, pointing out across the sea. “Whose ships are those?”

I stopped beside him and, in the distance, almost at the horizon, I saw a number of galleys sailing from the east to the west.

From here, I think I could see thirty or so ships; they all looked like war galleys. There might’ve been a few cargo ships among them, but I couldn’t spot them from here.

However, even from this distance, I could make out the flags that they were flying.

It was a silver helmet with a jagged red scar across the right eye on an icy blue background.

“Those are Nordic ships.”

“Nordic?!” Wiatt exclaimed. “Doesn’t that mean that they’re coming to raid somewhere?”

That’s what most people would think when hearing about Nordic war galleys coming towards them and, to be fair to the lad, he wouldn’t be wrong most of the time.

“Aye, they’re Nordic ships, but not regular Nordic ships.” When Wiatt looked at me clearly confused, I smiled. “They’re from Nordstown.”

“Nordstown?” I nodded. “How can you tell?”

“The flag. It’s not of Nordic design.”

“It isn’t?”

“Of course it isn’t. I thought you knew of Nordstown.”

“I know of it, sir, but not much about it. I thought that it was just a town with only Nords.” Wiatt lost his smile. “But, guessing by your face, that’s not right, is it?”

I could barely stop myself from sighing in disappointment.

I’d like to think that he was joking, but I don’t think he was.

How in the world do you know about all the cities in the Narrow and not know what Nordstown is?

You amaze me in so many ways, lad.

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, sir.”

“It’s alright, lad. Just assumed you knew more of the world than you did. Thought for sure Nordstown would be a well-known place in the Westerlands.” I sighed and slumped my shoulders. “I guess it isn’t as famous as I thought it was.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Stop apologising, lad. I just thought you’d found out about it in one of your history books.”

“I’m afraid that it was only mentioned in passing on occasion.”

“How strange.”

Well, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.

If I had no knowledge of Titus, the damned capital of the Empire and I’d been all over the world, then it would make sense that Wiatt wouldn’t know of Nordstown and its history.

So, I decided to tell him the history of Nordstown.

“Before their homeland sank into the ocean, over three hundred thousand nords managed to escape in a gigantic armada of about four thousand ships. Originally, they intended to seek asylum in the Green but, as they crossed the Pale Ocean, the High Jarls began to argue about the best course of action.

“One wanted to sail to the Eternal Isles and take them as their own. Another wanted to follow their original plan, while another wanted to invade and conquer the Green. The fourth wanted to search for a new continent to call their own. The discourse led to fighting and, eventually, the fleet was divided unequally between the four High Jarls.

“Because of this, only about a hundred thousand nords survived.

“The fleet that attacked the Eternal Isles was annihilated by dragon fire; the army that invaded the Green were slaughtered by an alliance of the Green’s kingdoms, but the group that sailed to find a new continent found one in the far north and settled it, earning them their new name as the Nords of the North.”

“So, what happened to the group who wanted to settl-?”

Just as quickly as Wiatt asked that question, he arrived at the answer.

He smiled. “They found refuge in the Green and founded Nordstown?”

“Yeah. When they landed on the western coast, they beseeched the King of the West to give them land; after swearing an unbreakable oath to him, they were allowed to settle and found their own town.”

“But Nordstown is a city, right? So, why is it called Nordstown?”

“As part of their oath, the nords were only allowed to build a town big enough to fit the twenty thousand of them. At the time, no one in the Green thought that the town would thrive and survive for more than a year, so they jokingly named it Nordstown.

“Not a hundred years later, the town had expanded and grown to the point that sixty thousand people started living there and it became recognised as a city, if not in name but in title.”

“So, why not just rename it to ‘Nordscity’ then or something else once it began to thrive?”

“Because, lad, the Nords are stubborn bastards. They named it Nordstown and they refuse to rename it. The name has a lot of meaning for them and they took quite a liking to it. That flag they’re flying.” I pointed back to the boats. “Was designed by the King of the West personally to represent the struggles the Nords had crossing the ocean and, to forever show their loyalty to the Kings of the West, they’re not allowed to change it.”

“Wow, I never knew that, sir. I feel most idiotic for just thinking it was called that because only Nords lived there.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it, lad. At one point, that would’ve been true. Though.” I glared at the ships. “Why are they sailing to the Westerlands?”

“Maybe to conduct a raid while the Empire is weak?”

I shook my head. “Can’t be. They aren’t allowed to mobilize without the explicit permission of the King of the West, so that would mean…”

“They’re openly joining the rebellion?”

That was a dangerous and ballsy move.

After Titus conquered all of Carlen, the Kings and Queen of the Green all signed a pact with him, naming him Emperor and their rightful ruler, and to forever serve him and his descendants. In exchange, they were given protection by the Empire and were allowed to keep their titles and original lands.

Meaning that, if the King of the West was openly declaring his support for the Children of the Stars, he was essentially in open rebellion against the Empire.

“How bold of ‘im,” I mumbled.

If the Kingdom of the West was in open rebellion, then that meant that Sarah, everyone in Wheatcraft and in Nordstown could be in danger.

I had to keep that thought in the back of my mind.

I loved Sarah with all my heart but, if I started going down this path, it’d be all I could think of and that could get Wiatt and I killed.

I couldn’t think of things like that.

Not right now.

We rode in silence for the rest of the day and camped out in a small cave for the night.

Come the dawn two days later, we ate breakfast and rode much faster along the road to ensure that we reached Xipe-Totec’s gates before noon.

When I say gates, I do mean gates.

Xipe-Totec was built in a valley surrounded by mountains on all sides and, according to Wiatt, these gates were the only known route into and out of the city.

They were made of limestone and had immaculate, highly detailed and extremely beautiful carvings on them, with every part painted carefully and with great skill. There were lots of greens, reds and golds, and the carvings appeared to depict great warriors and monsters, but I couldn’t tell who they were meant to be.

Another thing I couldn’t figure out was how in the Depths do they even manage to close those heavy gates?

The gates to the city were wide open and there was a line of thirty Beast Warriors there, armed with weapons that I knew of but had only seen a few times in my life: Macuahuitl.

A Macuahuitl is a wooden club with obsidian blades running along either side of it. It is a powerful, and very scary, looking weapon. They were also carrying with them a wooden shield decorated with feathers and animal bones, and no two warriors at the gates were dressed the same.

“Wow,” Wiatt said, gazing up and down the mighty gates before us. “This is far beyond what I expected.”

“Couldn’t agree more, lad. Now this. This is what I wanted to see!”

“Sir, as lovely as the entrance is, shall we venture inside?”

I turned to him and my smile grew. “Let’s go, Wiatt.”

“Right behind you.”

The two of us confidently rode up to the gate, eagerly submitted ourselves to their checks and searches, and then we were let into the city.

Once we took our first steps into the city, our jaws dropped.

Directly before us was a long, central road towards a great stone arena which had countless people surrounding it.

Standing along the side of the road as far as the eye could see were hundreds of limestone pillars with carvings of warriors on them, some of which were weathered and damaged, but others that looked like they were carved only yesterday.

To our left were two distinct districts; one was filled with luscious grassland, wooden stalls and hundreds of people, both local and foreign, talking happily with one another. The one behind that was filled with limestone and wooden buildings that served as the main residential district.

To our right, however, was a much, much larger district; it was so big it could fit the other two districts in it. It was nothing but tall, grand buildings, farms and animal pens. On the streets, we could see Beast Warriors, both on and off duty, as well as many young aspiring trainees of all ages.

I think I spotted a lad of four there following a warrior dressed in a fine boar pelt.

Remarkable.

Truly, Xipe-Totec is a remarkable place.

“Sir?”

“Yes, lad?”

“Where do we start?”

We both shared a happy laugh at that and I roughly smacked him on the back. “Wiatt, I think there might be a good place to start.”

I pointed straight ahead at the arena and Wiatt smiled.

“Aye, sir, that sounds good.”

The two of us broke into a sprint down the road; I imagine that we looked like excited children to the people of the Narrow, but we didn’t care.

If everything that Ikan had told us was right, then that arena would be where Beast Warriors would earn their pelts and become protectors of the Narrow.

And those were fights that I wanted to see.

We entered the arena stands and quickly searched for somewhere to sit to no avail. With no other choice, we chose to stand and watched eagerly with the crowd for the trials to begin.

The arena itself was made up of two gigantic stone walls with seats carved into it and at the front was a raised limestone platform which, I assumed, was reserved for the rulers of the city and other people of importance, like the greatest Beast Warriors in Xipe-Totec.

After a few more minutes of waiting, the crowd cheered as a man dressed in fine robes emerged on the limestone platform. He smiled and waved to the crowd before loudly asking them to quieten down.

I don’t know what exactly he said but I guessed as much based on how the crowd reacted.

The man then began a long, impassioned speech about…something, not too sure what, and the crowd cheered at certain parts of it, then went as silent as the grave at others. Then, he’d start speaking powerfully again and, for a grand finale, he yelled as loudly as he could and raised his hands into the air.

With a thunderous applause, the robed man stepped down from the platform and others took the seats behind him

Based on what they were wearing, I guessed they were something like royalty here in the city.

A drummer began playing from somewhere out of sight and the first of the hopeful Beast Warriors came out from the gaps at the end of the arena, spear in hand and all but naked aside from a cloth around his waist.

Hang on.

…No.

Surely, they don’t…

They don’t just kill the dangerous animals alone…like that?

…These guys are hardcore.

Four men came out from the side, dragging a wooden cage with ropes and, inside, there was a large and very angry boar inside.

Its tusks were already red with blood.

The men put the cage in the centre of the arena; then, without even a moment’s hesitation, they pulled open its entrance and ran away as fast as they could. The boar charged out in a fury, squealing, and, I swear to the Gods I’m not lying, the ground cracked from the sheer strength of its hooves.

Even in the face of that beast, the hopeful warrior didn’t falter.

He lowered his body towards the ground and thrust his spear in front of him; he was waiting for the boar to attack him than dare risk striking first.

The boar saw the man and ran at him at full speed.

It was fast and, if he took that hit straight on, he could end up dead, or very nearly dead at least.

The man thrust his spear towards the boar’s face and moved his body to the side, readying to dodge the boar’s attack. He missed and it thinly cut at its hide. Just before the boar hit him, he rolled to the side and quickly got back onto his feet, staying crouched low to the ground, his eyes carefully following the boar’s every movement.

The boar, too furious to notice its own wound, turned on its heel and charged at the man again.

The man tried the same move again but, this time, the boar ploughed right through the spear, taking the shaft into its side, and smashed into the man’s legs, knocking him to the ground. The beast cried out in pain as the spear splintered against its bones, blood pouring from its wounds, and the boar struggled to stay standing.

The man, however, looked to be in just as much pain.

From here, I could tell that his left leg was broken and his right had been badly cut by the boar’s tusk.

Gods, just looking at him made me hurt; I don’t even want to imagine what it must’ve been like for the lad himself.

He was trying his best not to let the pain show on his face, his lips firmly shut to prevent himself from screaming, but it was obvious just how much pain he was truly in.

The boar turned back to the man and charged once again at him.

Given both their wounds, it would be a struggle just to keep moving, but the man was in a worse situation than the boar.

He didn’t have a weapon, but the boar had its tusks.

The man rolled to the side at the last moment, desperately grabbed the broken shaft of the spear, spun around and jumped at the boar. He stabbed it in the back of the head, causing the boar to let out one, final squeal and it collapsed onto its belly. The man fell off the boar onto his legs, which made me wince.

Gods, that must’ve hurt!

Even with the fight over, the crowd did not cheer.

Just as I was about to ask Wiatt why, the man slowly, and unsteadily, started to stand up. He thrust one hand high above his head, smiled, and only then did the crowd cheer for him.

And that, I’m guessing, is the end of his trial; the man had won his first pelt.

Wiatt and I joined in with their cheers and claps.

“Sir.”

“Yeah, lad?”

“Let’s stay on the Beast Warriors’ good side.”

“…Yeah.”

After that trial, there was another one where a young lad tried his luck against a bear and, against all odds, managed to win, but…well, his strategy wasn’t what I’d call smart.

I mean, he managed to kill it with only a sharp obsidian dagger, but, once the bear leapt on top of him, I could barely see what was happening.

Well, it worked…whatever he did.

After that, we decided to walk back down the main road and check out the pillars lining it. They were impressively made with lots of little, intricate details carved into each warrior’s armour and weapons; and, if that wasn’t impressive enough, every single one that we passed by seemed to be unique.

As we walked by them, Wiatt excitedly ran up to one of the pillars and let out a small, excited cry, like a small child seeing a parade for the first time.

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at him when I thought of him like that.

“Is he your type?”

“Maybe if he were still alive.”

We shared a small laugh for a moment; then, I asked, “I take it you recognise this one then?”

“Aye. I can tell by the decorations on his shield.”

How in the Depths can Wiatt tell these guys apart?

While I don’t doubt that these might have all have their own unique carvings, looking at a few hundred of them one after another made them all blur into one.

It’d be like seeing a hundred men wearing the same suit of armour but, obviously, they’d have different faces and hair styles and colours. You might even notice smaller details to distinguish them, like the dents in their armour, but those were all minor differences, things you’d only notice upon close examination.

“So, who is he?”

“This is Yochi the Unmoveable. One of the Chosen Twelve that stood before Titus when he travelled through the Narrow almost six hundred years ago.”

“The Chosen Twelve?”

“Do you not know of them, sir?”

I shook my head. “I thought Titus fought his way through the Narrow.”

“Sort of, but not really.”

I folded my arms and stared blankly at him.

“…I did it again, didn’t I?”

I nodded.

“When Titus came to pass through the Narrow, the representatives of each city gathered to face him with their armies and their Chosen Twelve champions. The representatives, not wanting to see their people die for someone else’s ambition, offered Titus single combat with each of the champions in exchange for safe passage through the Narrow and an oath that they wouldn’t defy him.

“Titus agreed to it and fought all twelve one by one. Each was strong and fought well, but Titus defeated the lot. He could have killed them, but he chose not to as he recognised their strength and agreed with the representatives that dying here wouldn’t benefit any of those present. And thus, the Narrow was open to Titus and they submitted themselves to his rule.

“Yochi the Unmoveable was the sixth to stand against Titus. He was legendary among the Narrow because he was never once pushed back in duels with other warriors, until Titus managed it.”

“So, he was quite the impressive fella, then?”

“That’s putting it a little lightly,” Wiatt mumbled, clearly upset that I wasn’t as enthusiastic with Yochi as he was.

I’m sorry about that, but I didn’t even know he existed until just now.

“People with titles are rare across the world but, in the Narrow, they hold extra importance,” Wiatt continued. “According to Alfyr the Wise’s writings, titles are given only to the greatest of warriors every ten years, so having one is one of the highest honours a person from here can have. I imagine that every single one of the people on these pillars had earnt titles in their lifetime.”

We moved from that pillar to another one and immediately Wiatt’s face lit up again.

“There’s another one! That’s Kish Demon’s Bane, the first warrior to stand before Titus!”

“Demon’s Bane?”

“Well, he didn’t kill any Demons, but he did kill eight bears in single combat in the arena during his lifetime and barely took a scratch during some of those fights.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

“How in the Depths did Titus beat this guy?”

“It’s simple, sir. Kish was good at fighting beasts and monsters, not against people. Titus was the exact opposite and therefore worst opponent Kish could fight.” Then, out of nowhere, Wiatt ran up to another pillar. “Xipilli, the Shield of the Narrow!”

I know that a lot of the locals can’t understand a word he’s saying and yet I felt a bit embarrassed being seen talking to him right now.

Still, I’ll bite again and ask.

“Why’s he called that?”

“Xipilli was present during an invasion by the Southern Kingdom of the Green into the Narrow. Two thousand Holy Knights and eight thousand men at arms attacked the Narrow, but the Narrow could only muster one thousand five hundred men to defend themselves. Xipilli was leading them and he was responsible for the overwhelming defeat of the Southern forces. Due to his brilliant leadership, the Narrow lost only a few hundred men and the South lost all but a few hundred men, hence his name.

Honestly, when I hear Wiatt talking so passionately about these great warriors, I can’t help but smile.

It really feels like I’m getting to see a very real part of Wiatt that I haven’t ever seen before.

“You really admire them, don’t ya, lad?”

“Of course I do! Ever since I was a little boy, I’d always wanted to do something great enough with my life that I’d earn a title of my own. After all, it is those with titles and great deeds under their belt that are never truly forgotten, isn’t it?”

I smiled weakly. “…Yes, I suppose so.”

“I wonder what your title would be if you ever got one. How about ‘Athellio the Great’ or something like-”

“I have one.”

“Huh?”

“A title.”

Wiatt’s expression changed out of the corner of my vision, but I had no idea what it looked like now.

“…Athellio the Wanderer,” I mumbled. “Athellio the Wanderer.”

“…The Wanderer, sir?” Wiatt meekly asked. I nodded. “How did you-?”

“Because, lad.” I turned to him and showed him my pathetic smile. “I can’t ever seem to stay in one place for long, no matter how hard I try.” I shook my head and jokingly said, “It’s not a very imposing title, is it?”

Wiatt smiled at me. “No, sir. I guess it isn’t.”

“Well, when we’re in the presence of the greatest from the Narrow, it seems even more lame, don’t it?”

We both shared an uncomfortable laugh and continued exploring the city in awkward silence, only broken up by forced dialogue between us to try and forget what happened at the pillars.

Typical, ain’t it?

I start to enjoy this journey for even a minute and then, in the very next moment, the Gods decide to fuck with me again.

That night, at our tavern, it seemed like Wiatt felt similar to how I did and so proposed that we play a drinking game.

It would, hopefully, allows us to forget the more awkward moments of the day and it could allow us to get to know one another a lot better, so I was very keen to take part in one.

We each ask each other a question and either answered or drunk.

Simple rules, easy to get pissed to.

Sounds like a good night.

“I haven’t taken part in a drinking game in ten years.”

“Well, sir, let’s start of something simple to ease you back into it then, shall we?”

Oi.

Just because it’s been a while doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to play.

“So, what’s your favourite number?”

…I think my jaw might have dropped so far that it hit the table and shattered.

“Sir?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“It’s not that, sir! It’s just I-”

“Thought that Athellio had forgotten how to play and so I decided to ask him something toddlers ask one another as soon as they learn how to speak?”

“…Perhaps I thought something like that, sir, given your age and all.”

“You won’t live to see another dawn if you say that again.”

We both laughed and then, just to humour him, I decided to answer.

“Eleven.”

“Eleven?” Wiatt repeated back to me. “Why is that?”

“When I was a kid, there was a bard who came to visit our village every few months. Some folks would spend most of the coin they had just to hear tales from ‘far away lands’. Every time he was in the village, I asked to hear his best stories and he would always tell me his ‘Eleven Magic Tales’ each time.” I stared off to the side and sighed. “Honestly though, I don’t even remember most of them now, not even really their names.”

“…It sounds like old age really did hit you harder than I thought, sir.”

“I’m not even twenty years older than you.”

“True, but you are older than me, sir, and by a fair bit.”

I sighed and then asked, “What’s yours out of curiosity?”

“That’s not how-”

“I know that’s not how the game works, but sod that rule. If we’re going to get to know one another, then we should probably both answer and both drink.”

“Alright. I guess that could be fun...” Wiatt leant back in his chair and then said, “Twenty-two. That’s my favourite number.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s how old I am, so my favourite number changes every year.”

That…was somehow extremely disappointing to hear.

Gods, maybe I am getting old if just hearing how young he is depresses me.

“Sir, it’s your turn to ask a question.”

“Oh, right. Uh…um…”

Shit.

I can’t think of anything.

Ask anything, Athellio, literally anything, and you’ll be fine.

“What’s your favourite place that you’ve ever visited?”

We kept asking each other questions such as this for the next thirty minutes; then, once we were starting to get more comfortable with one another, Wiatt became bolder with his questions.

“Then, it’s my turn again. Sir, this might be a bit personal, but I hope you won’t mind.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, lad. Ask away.”

“What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

If I had been drinking at that moment, I might’ve choked on it.

“Well, sir?”

I looked him in the eyes, said nothing, grabbed my mug, drunk the entire thing and then slammed it back onto the table, never once breaking eye contact with him.

“Barmaid, can I get another ale please?”

She nodded, took my mug and quickly ran back to the bar.

“…A strong answer, sir.”

“Your time to answer, lad.”

I’m pretty sure I hadn’t blinked in at least a minute.

Wiatt grunted, smiled, took a big swig from his mug then, he said, “Every. Single. Time.”

I nodded. “Good answer.”

We both eventually had to blink and then had a good laugh with one another, just as the barmaid brought me another mug.

“Sir.”

“Lad.”

“Might I ask another personal question?”

“You might ask one. You might not.”

“Sir. I’ll be blunt. I’m going to ask you a personal question.”

“Fire away, lad.”

“What’s the worst sex you’ve ever had?”

I smiled and then laughed a little as I did actually have a good story to answer that.

“This happened just after my fiancé and I had gotten engaged,” I said, smiling giddily. “Like most couples, we wanted to celebrate it and wanted it to be an especially special occasion. So, she said that she had this big surprise for me that night and to leave it all to her. But I couldn’t do that, so I got some nice smelling candles and flowers together and decorated the bedroom a bit, you know, to help make it more romantic for us both.

“So, that night, I waited with a few low-lit-candles. I was a bit anxious, to be honest, but excited to see what happened next. And then she came in, wearing a gorgeous white dress and my jaw dropped so low to the ground that she almost burst out laughing at my reaction. She slowly walked towards our bed as seductively as she could but, because she’d never done anything like this before.” I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. I quickly calmed myself and continued. “She tried to climb onto the bed, slipped on our sheets, fell on top of me and smashed her knee right into my balls.”

Wiatt winced as he let out a small laugh. I chuckled with him.

“Bless her heart, she was so, so sorry and kept apologising to me as I curled up into a ball and groaned. She also kept asking me if I was alright but I could barely say anything other than a ‘Yeah…I’m fine’ through gritted teeth. Once I’d recovered, I jokingly said that while we never did it, we did make it memorable and we both just laughed about it.”

“That sounds…painful. Were you fully-?”

“Yep.”

“Oh Gods. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. We made it up to one another a week later.”

We shared a small laugh again.

“Aren’t you going to ask me, sir?”

“I was gonna, but then you said that every time you had sex was your best time, so surely you can’t have had a worst time, right?”

“Well, you aren’t wrong about that. So, it’s my turn again then.”

“So, it would seem.”

I went back to drinking for the time being as Wiatt took a few moments to ponder over what he could ask me.

Given the current flow of the conversation, I imagined that the lad would try to ask me yet another deeply personal question, though I don’t know how much more personal you can go with someone than talking about their sex life.

Perhaps it would be something to do with that.

What’s the wildest sex I’ve ever had?

Have we ever had another girl, or guy, with us in the bedroom?

…I wish I had good answers for those.

Gods know I don’t.

Now, Wiatt, hit me with everything you got!

“…What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told someone?”

His voice had been so soft when he spoke it was almost a whisper, yet I heard nothing else but that in that instant.

That question was more deafening than the dozens of drunken patrons.

“That it’s just one more adventure.”

I quickly finished my drink, got up and said, “Goodnight, Wiatt.”

I didn’t even stick around long enough to hear if he had said it back to me.