The Infinite Sadness: Epilogue

One more thing!

Jax Wolff
October 23, 2025

Epilogue

Closing Time

The light turned green, and the little red Rabbit puttered away, past Southwind People’s Bank, past the Aldi’s, past the Pizza Hut. If either of the lovers inside it noticed the truck in the Pizza Hut’s parking lot, they didn’t make it known, not even to roll down the window and cast out a hello.

For the best, Alistair knew. They watched from their perch in the truck bed, between Kaedra and Yzara, both of whom were also watching the Rabbit climb the hill. As the little car grew more and more distant, Alistair rolled their shoulders and sighed.

“There they go,” they said. “Our little troubleshooter and problem solver, off to take on the world.”

Kaedra crossed her arms on the edge of the truck bed and rested her chin on her forearms. “Where are those kids going, anyway?”

Beside her, Yzara signed, slow and steady. Someplace good, I hope.

The Rabbit took a right at the top of the hill, directly into the Denny’s parking lot.

Alistair coughed. “Well. Metaphorically speaking. After . . .” They rolled a hand towards the Denny’s at the top of the hill.

Kaedra laughed. She sat up and twisted in her seat, facing the back end of the truck. There, perched on the door, was Chanticleer. The enigmatic mage stared back down the hill as they kicked their feet and hummed to a tune no one in the truck recognized. Not even Alistair.

Chanticleer was just like that, Alistair had told them. Of all of the mages in their tight coven, it was Alistair who knew the little one best. It was Alistair who brought them to the coven and said the others could call them Chanticleer. It was Alistair who said the Dawnlit Coven needed to do everything they could to help them.

And now that was over. The world was safe, and the only thing left was a scrawl of ending credits.

Chanticleer stopped humming and raised their eyes to the October gray skies.

“I thought about it,” they said. “In one story, they find you in Eldaven, Alistair. You teach Eleanor how to be a watcher, and Mick becomes her guardian partner. They solve supernatural crimes. It’s very Buffy. This is the ending that’s most likely to happen, if I had to choose one.”

Kaedra blinked, then glanced back at Yzara. “Buffy?”

Yzara, sitting crosslegged but back straight, waved a hand in front of their neck in the universal gesture to drop it.

“In another,” Chanticleer continued, “it’s a year later. They hadn’t found you. Mick struggles to adjust to life in Eldaven, disappointment at the Royal College, and the unrelenting feeling he isn’t doing enough to support himself and Eleanor. He meets a group of musicians just off campus who invite him to play with them. For the first time, he plays in a band and for an audience, and this reminds him why he left home for Eldaven. It’s not a long story, but it’s an ending Eleanor wants him to have, and it’s hard to say no to that.

“In another, Eleanor learns the truth of the Royal Archives: that it’s secretly part of a larger organization of watchers, tasked with collecting, securing, and safeguarding magical artifacts before they can fall into the wrong hands. Etienne takes her under his wing initially, but she soon learns to travel the world on her own, seeking out adventure and wonder while assisting other archives in faraway lands in exchange for knowledge. This is the ending Mick wants for Eleanor, and he’s forgotten to write where he is in it, but you’ll have to forgive him. He’s new to this.”

Chanticleer stopped for a second, as if to consider whether or not to continue. They lowered their chin a little, leveling their gaze somewhere between the earth and sky.

“And then in another, Eleanor takes care of Mick while he has the flu.” They paused for a beat. “That one’s my favorite.”

Alistair frowned. “More than I wanted to know about you, but if it makes you happy . . . ?”

Kaedra slid between them—an angel swooping in to change the subject. “So which one happens next?”

“Eh?” Chanticleer blinked at her. “None of them. Or all of them. It’s hard to say.” They slid off the back of the truck and landed neatly on the pavement. “The way I see it, that’s not my story to tell either. Let Mick and Eleanor figure it out. Decide for themselves where to go and who they become. Isn’t that the best possible way to continue the story?”

“True.” Kaedra turned around to lean against the edge of the truck. She gazed up at the clouds. “That would be nice.”

Chanticleer looked back up at them. “The same goes for all of you, of course. You get to decide where to go from here. Whatever happens, it’s your story to tell. Just make it a good one.”

“That would be nice too.” Kaedra looked over her shoulder, searching for Chanticleer. “So what about the other them—in the other universe you were telling us about, I mean? I know you can’t say for certain, but I can’t help but wonder. How will their story go?”

“Good question.”

Chanticleer snapped their fingers. A small, white dot appeared at eye level just ahead of them. It swirled in mid-air, then expanded into a hole in time and space. Somewhere in its depths, a haunting voice echoed from someplace else. Sometime else.

Closing time. Open all the doors and let you out into the world. Closing time. Turn all of the lights on over every boy and every girl.

“Where are you going?” Alistair asked.

Chanticleer waved a hand in front of them and sang, “The great unknown.” They took off their hat and glasses, placing the latter within the former. “The other universe. That story isn’t going to tell itself, you know. Not at first, anyway.” They tossed both into the truck bed and regarded Alistair with a nod. “I’ll tell Luka you said hello. If I find her, anyway.”

Alistair hmmed in return. “Listen, if you’re going to go to that universe—”

Chanticleer waved them off. “I know. Don’t guide so much. Could you blame me for offering a little bit more help than usual? You saw how stubborn those kids are. Who knows how long it’ll take me to get them to confess this time around?”

“Actually,” Alistair replied slowly, “I was going to ask you to give me a bigger part the next time we meet.”

Yzara leaned over the edge of the truck and signed quickly, What they mean is thank you. For everything.

Chanticleer tilted their head for a second, then straightened it and smiled broadly.

“Of course,” they replied. “And don’t you worry, Alistair. You’ll get plenty of lines this time around.”

With that, they faced the portal. The great unknown.

“H-hey!” Alistair called. “That’s a good thing, right? That’s a good thing!”

And thus, the God of Wonder stepped through the portal and disappeared.

The Infinite Sadness: Epilogue

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