This is a series of vignettes centred around a fictional Tavern in the Magic Multiverse.
SEVERAL years had passed since the inception of The Tavern, and the business had grown from small to medium to a relatively large enterprise. The man in charge of this business was known by many as ‘the Peddler’ or if you were being informal, you could call him ‘Genie’. The Peddler was a happy man with laughing eyes and a curious smile, known for his jokes as well as his merchant prowess and discipline. Though he owned The Tavern, that didn’t mean he did not see reasons to expand his business and diversify. He had a chain of businesses on a selected number of worlds, ranging from engineering to publishing to real estate, all of which were carefully controlled and monitored. How a single person was able to maintain order across such a vast expanse was a secret only the Peddler knew.
He took his breakfast in the dining hall today rather than have it sent up to his room. There was someone he wanted to meet, but he wasn’t sure if the person would appear on time.
A man approached the table just as the Peddler finished his appetizer and moved on to the entrée. The visitor asked if he knew who ‘Genie’ was and the Peddler smiled before handing over a durable rectangle of paper inscribed with his name and business details.
Jéne E. Ilk. That was his name.
“Jéne E?” asked the man. “That’s you?”
“Have a seat.” Genie gestured at another chair by the table. “I’ll order you something warm.”
After asking a meal of a waiter, Jéne E. returned his attention to the visiting man and announced, “You’re late.”
“Five minutes,” the visitor said.
“Do you know why I asked you to see me?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“Thing is, I need someone of your abilities. I’ve been thinking that perhaps I should start hiring again. Not for the off-world jobs, but here in The Tavern. Do you understand what I’m implying?”
The visitor shut his eyes in an attempt to figure out what the words meant. What was the Peddler implying? Was he saying that he was good enough for better things or was it the opposite?
“What’s your offer?” the visitor queried.
The Peddler reached down to a chair next to him and lifted up a folder which was handed over to the visitor. The proprietor winked once before allowing the waiter to place the visitor’s meal onto the table.
As for the visitor himself, he felt a mixture of elation and dread at what was to come. Part of him felt that this was a prank, but part of him knew that the Peddler wasn’t one to give false hope.
Back in his room the visiting man opened the folder and sat down at the desk to make sense of what just happened. The Peddler named Jéne E. was a businessman so surely the contents of the folder would reflect that ambition. Reading the documents would take some time but the man knew his diligence would pay off in the end. His quiet room was a conducive enough environment for work such as this.
Among the documents was an offer letter tempting the man to join the official staff of The Tavern. The position was not as grand as, say, that of the Magus who protected the building but it was a start. Some of the other papers were charts and graphs related to The Tavern’s daily and monthly business reports, included into the folder as though to entice him even further. Pictures of places The Tavern had planeswalked to were also part of the package, showing lush forests and mesmerising mountains as locations that the building normally visits. It was almost like the Peddler knew what this man’s vulnerabilities were, a man who craved change and sought out adventure in his daily life.
Tired of all the temptation, the visitor left the folder on the desk to lie down and close his eyes. It was still morning but already his mind was fatigued and his body exhausted.
To join or not to join? That was the question.
He didn’t have anything to lose if he became part of The Tavern, joining the staff for romantic adventures and everlasting excitement, but was it safe? By enlisting himself he would be leaving behind the drudgery of everyday life for what would be his dream job, yet he failed to convince himself that it was safe, that the Magus employed by the Peddler was capable of watching over all the tenants and staff.
Why was he having such doubts, he wondered. He didn’t consider himself a coward, yet he wasn’t actually running out of the room down corridors shouting in elation at being offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Something was holding him back, something he needed to identify.
>Continued in part 2
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