B1 Epilogue
There was a rumor creeping around the city, spoken of in hushed whispers and hidden glances, of a new inn. It was unlike the regular places people gathered, and to hear it told, one could get a sip of ambrosia at its bar. The problem was, no one seemed to know where it was. It wasnt a place one could search for and find but could be found only by wandering into it. According to those who claimed to have been there, the door seemed to drift about in the hazy space between waking and sleeping, appearing at random.
Dreamers Rest.
Cobble didnt believe any of it. Then again, he only dealt in the hard facts. That, and the tanned leather he used to make shoes. Putting down his hammer, he examined the rivet hed formed and nodded. This would be a good pair. Placing them to the side, he rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore the loud whispers of his apprentices. The two young men were talking in what they clearly assumed was a covert way, but their excitement had destroyed any secrecy they had started with.
Im telling you, it was a doorway, with words written on it!
Oh, come on, as if.
Seriously, my big brother saw it.
How would you know? Were you there?
Unable to handle it anymore, Cobble slammed his hand on the table and spun around.
Oi! Get back to work! You can talk about your dreams and aspirations on your own time! Shoes dont make themselves!
Dont listen to him. Anyway, well leave you to it. Have a good night.
Saying goodbye, Cobble watched in confusion as the two men continued down the road, saying hello to the shopkeepers who were closing up. They had been friendly but not pushy, and wonder of wonders, his coin was still in his pocket after talking to them. If theyd been members of the Swamp Shark gang, they would have asked for an extra payment without fail. Shaking his head, Cobble didnt know what to think.
He lived alone in a small apartment behind his shop, and after everything was closed up, he ate a small meal and went to bed. It took him a while to get to sleep, and even when he did finally drift off, it was into a restless sleep full of tossing and turning. Sighing, he sat up and reached for the water on his nightstand, only to freeze. His room had a single window that overlooked the back alley that ran behind his shop, and a single door that led into his kitchen.
Yet at some point another door had appeared in between them. A faint light filtered out from underneath it, and the muffled sounds of clinking glass and happy voices could be heard beyond it. A strange upbeat music with sounds Cobble had never heard before seemed to fill his room, causing him to fall into a trance. Convinced he was seeing things, he pinched his arm, wincing when pain shot through his skin.
Standing up, he slowly walked to the door, his hand going to the doorknob as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Slowly, the door opened and he found himself standing in a dimly lit room, surrounded by indistinct people mingling between the tables and the long bar. At one side of the room was a small band playing the catchy music he had heard. Yet none of that entered his eyes as he stared at the bartender who was standing before him. Dressed in a crisp white shirt with a bowtie and a vest cut in a strange style, the bartender seemed to be the very picture of professionalism, but the blank white mask with a rainbow-colored flower splashed against the side gave the scene a strangeness that sent a chill down his spine.
A moment ago Cobble had been holding onto the door handle, but now he was standing against the bar, his hand resting on the bar top. With practiced ease, the bartender put a napkin and a small dish of seeds in front of him.
Wow, word must really be getting out. Youre the fourth new patron weve had tonight. Whats your name?
Unable to help himself, Cobble spoke in a halting voice, his throat suddenly dry.
C Cobble.
Welcome to Dreamers Rest, Cobble. You can call me Geller. Why dont I get you something to drink?
