He stood near a newspaper stand. He carried nothing but the bag he brought with him. His other items and even his motorcycle were taken from him. His left hand was slightly red. His eyes were a bit of bloodshot. However, he was seeing the world with a view from the above.

Death.

He knew when his left hand started aging that his time was near. He hid it from Ciara and covered it with obsidian flesh. He was going to be thrown away into an island for exiles. He didn’t hate but he was a bit distressed by losing everything he earned for the past month.

The denizens of the city were passing by. The train was speedily following the rails. The rails shook as he walked underneath the struts of the elevated train track. He carried a roll of newspaper and a pen. He wended his way to an artificial park. He saw a chair and sat down. He unrolled the newspaper and checked the personal columns. The papers described the affairs of the Cascade Nation and the Alician Family. He ignored most of that and stared at the personal columns again. He read one part:

“I’m tired of my life pushing papers. It doesn’t suit me at all so I intend to quit. I want to get away from this place. So if you want to get away and need someone to come with you. I don’t mind. If you like drinking and wants to work it then we can have a boorish contract. The offer stands only today. I change my mind easily.”

Alva looked at the clock that was displayed in the middle of the artificial park. It was only nine and the person was waiting until four. Alva though that he could jest this person. Not that he had anything to lose other than a few of the pocket money that he won’t need in the Island of Basing.

He stood up from his seat and made his way through the winding streets. He took the strange small trains and rode one until he was in the place where the stranger wanted to meet. It was a place where there was no soul to be found. It was dim and the only light source was the street lamp near a bench. He sat and leaned on the bench while staring blankly at the ceiling. He raised his left hand and looked at his left arm.

“Aging, huh,” he thought. “It has been a while since I’d see my skin like this. Really, it took me many years to reach this point in time. I don’t even remember most of the timelines and are just a passing memory. I’d probably go crazy if I remember it all. Well, at least I don’t have to be depressed. Who wants to live forever anyway? Besides, am I even my own self? It’s all drifting, and all I could do is asked; where is my mind?”

“I expected this,” Alva said.

“I don’t,” a voice said. Alva turned around and saw the familiar curve of her face.

“Catherine.”

“Alva,” she palmed her forehead. “You are my mystery man? Seriously, and I was happy about it.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you.”

She plodded to the bench and sat down.

“So, where are you escaping?”

“The Island of Basing, I got exiled.”

“You don’t look sad.”

“I ain’t. Do you get mad when it rains as well?”

“No. I get what you mean.”

She whipped out a piece and lit.

“I thought you wanted that office life?”

“I spent a month already. I hate papers now.”

“No wonder you were excited about drinking rather than working.”

“So you want to escape?”

“I want to. Too bad my mystery man was my co-worker.”

“Sorry for being me.”

“I mean you’re probably going to die. I live long you know? That arm of yours looks aged, and do I really want someone that looks good.”

“I age like fine wine though?”

“How would you know that?”

“I just know. I mean look at this arm, it might a bit wrinkled, but it sure as hell don’t look like a withered branch.”

“Wow, you really are selling yourself hard.”

“I know, I know.”

“Probably going to use me as a replacement for that lover of yours. That’s kind of an asshole move you know?”

“I know, I know. Honestly, I just want someone to be with me until the day I die. Someone to talk, and all of that. Besides, you were planning to run away in the first place as well. You wouldn’t be putting that up if you weren’t.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Alva. I’m just a demon looking for a place to settle down before my flame runs out. I don’t expect anyone to actually reply to that stupid ad. And it has to be you of all people.”

“I know. This is dialing from 1 to 10. But we make foolish choices all the time, you know? I’m old and tired and I want to rest. Well, not that anyone would want someone like me. I spend most of my years chasing after an unhealthy relationship. She didn’t see me as equal. I hate it really. I just want to run away and run away and run away. I am so sick of fighting and chasing.”

He slumped into the bench. He leaned forward, placed his head in his hands and sobbed. Massive body-shaking sobs racked his body, each coming in a wave, and, with every sob, he let out a low whimper. Catherine looked at her and wrapped her arms around him.

“Fine, I’ll take care of a crybaby like you. Good heavens, why do I have to spend the last of my flames with you? Oh well, I hope you can continue to drink with me until the end. Let us make this a contract. I will be with you until death do us part. So...what do you say?”

“I will as well.”

There was no affection here yet. It was just two old dogs accompanying each other until they meet the maiden called Death. This was simply a pact of death. Two old dogs met each other and wandered off together. It was as simple as that.

Epilogue of Nolan Salvatore...?