16. Sage
16
SAGE
I t's been weeks since the assassination attempt, but life goes on.
I might even say I’m enjoying myself, even. My training is going swimmingly, the angels have laid off, for the time being, at least.
I'm in the middle of mixing a complex elixir for a group of minor demons when I hear it - a sudden hush falling over the usually raucous crowd. My head snaps up, eyes darting to the entrance. There's a ripple of movement as patrons shift in their seats, craning their necks to get a better look at the newcomer.
The whispers grow louder, a wave of curiosity and tension washing over the bar. I strain to see past the crowd, my hands still mechanically completing the elixir. And then, like a punch to the gut, I see him.
Joesiah.
My world stops. The bottle in my hand slips, shattering on the floor, but I barely notice. All I can see is him, standing there in the doorway, looking exactly as he did on our wedding day.
The day he betrayed me.
Confusion floods my mind. How is he here? Why is he here? A torrent of emotions crashes over me - anger, fear, longing, hatred. I grip the edge of the bar, steadying myself as Joesiah's eyes lock onto mine.
He moves through the crowd, patrons parting before him like water. As he gets closer, I can see the mix of emotions playing across his face - hope, regret, determination. His body is tense, hands clenched at his sides as if he's physically restraining himself from reaching out to me.
"Sage," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've found you."
I swallow hard, forcing myself to maintain my composure. "Joesiah," I reply, my voice cold and steady. "What are you doing here?"
The weight of our shared history hangs between us, a chasm of betrayal and lost dreams. The easy intimacy we once shared has been replaced by an awkward tension, neither of us sure how to bridge the gap.
"I... I came to apologize," Joesiah says, his eyes pleading. "What I did to you... it was unforgivable. I've spent every day since then regretting my actions, searching for a way to make it right."
I feel my jaw clench, anger bubbling up inside me. "Apologize? You think an apology can make up for what you did? You betrayed me, Joesiah. You exposed my secret and left me to die."
Joesiah flinches at my words, but presses on. "I know, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But Sage, I've found a way to fix it. To bring you back."
My heart skips a beat. "What are you talking about?"
"There's a ritual," he explains, his words tumbling out in a rush. "An ancient spell that can restore life to those trapped in the underworld. It's dangerous and complex, but I've spent years researching it, preparing for it. I can bring you back to the world of the living, Sage. We can have the life we were meant to have."
For him, it must have been years, while for me it felt like months. I try to listen, try to understand, my mind reeling with possibilities and doubts. Part of me wants to believe him, to grab onto this chance at the life I lost, to be accepted by them. But another part, the part that's grown and changed in this strange new world, hesitates.
"You don't belong here, Sage," Joesiah continues, his voice soft and persuasive. "This isn't your world. Come back with me. We can start over, make things right."
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, I notice the other patrons reacting to our conversation. Some look intrigued, leaning in to catch every word. Others appear hostile, glaring at Joesiah with undisguised animosity.
"You've got some nerve showing up here, mortal," a gruff voice growls from nearby. "This ain't your realm."
Joesiah pales slightly but stands his ground. "I'm here for Sage. This doesn't concern you."
The tension in the bar ratchets up another notch. I can feel the situation teetering on the edge of violence when a familiar presence makes itself known. “Oh I think very much it does have to do with me, and what’s mine,” Deus says, eyes flashing red.
Deus steps to my side, his imposing figure radiating barely contained menace. His eyes, glowing with otherworldly power, fix on Joesiah with predatory intensity.
Joesiah takes an involuntary step back, fear flashing across his face. "I... I don't want any trouble. I'm just here to talk to Sage."
"Is that so?" Deus asks, his tone deceptively calm. "And what gives you the right to come into my establishment and upset my best alchemist?"
I find myself caught between them, my past and present colliding in a volatile mix. "Deus," I say softly, placing a hand on his arm. "It's okay. Let me handle this."
Deus's eyes flick to me, a silent question in their depths. I nod slightly, and he steps back, though he remains close, his presence a comforting bulwark at my back.
Turning back to Joesiah, I take a deep breath. "You said you found a way to bring me back. Explain."
Joesiah nods eagerly, seeming to gather courage now that Deus has backed off slightly. "It's an ancient ritual, predating most modern magic. It requires several rare components and a significant amount of power, but it can bridge the gap between life and death, allowing a soul to return to its original body."
"So witchcraft? You know they will kill you just as you killed me."
Joesiah hesitates. "It's not without risk. There's a chance it could fail, or worse. And even if it succeeds, you'd be giving up your powers, your connection to the underworld. You'd be fully mortal again."
I feel a pang at that. My hexeblood heritage, once a source of shame and fear, has become an integral part of who I am. The thought of giving it up, of losing the skills I've worked so hard to develop here, is more painful than I expected.
"Think about it, Sage," Joesiah pleads. "We could have everything we dreamed of. A normal life, a family, a future together. Isn't that worth the risk? We can start over fresh."
I close my eyes for a moment, memories of our past together flooding my mind. The love we shared, the plans we made, the life I thought I would have. It's tempting, so tempting, to reach out and grasp that dream again.
But when I open my eyes, I see the reality around me. The strange, chaotic beauty of Slim's Last Chance. The patrons I've come to know and care for. The complex, fascinating world of underworld alchemy that I've only begun to explore.
And Deus. I glance at him, seeing the concern in his eyes, the protective stance of his body. Our relationship is complicated, often frustrating, but undeniably powerful. There's a depth to it that I never experienced in the mortal world.
"Joesiah," I say finally, my voice steady. "I appreciate what you're trying to do. But I need time to think about this. It's not a decision I can make lightly."
Disappointment flashes across Joesiah's face, but he nods. "I understand. But please, Sage, don't take too long. The window for performing the ritual won't last forever."
"I'll let you know," I promise, though even as I say the words, I'm not sure if I mean them.
Joesiah looks like he wants to say more, but a warning growl from Deus has him backing away. "I'll be staying at the Twilight Inn," he says. "When you're ready to talk, you can find me there."
I watch him leave, my emotions a turbulent mess. As the door closes behind him, I feel the weight of every eye in the bar on me.
Deus moves closer, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asks, his gruff voice softened with concern.
I lean into his touch, drawing strength from his presence. "I don't know," I admit. "I never expected... I don't know what to do, Deus."
He's quiet for a moment, then says, "You don't have to decide anything right now. Take some time to think it over. Whatever you choose, I'll support you."
His words surprise me, and I look up at him, searching his face. There's a vulnerability there that I've never seen before, a fear that he's trying hard to hide.
"Thank you," I whisper, reaching up to squeeze his hand.
As the bar slowly returns to its normal rhythm around us, I find myself caught between two worlds. The life I lost, with its promise of normalcy and the dreams I once cherished. And the life I've gained, filled with power, danger, and a depth of experience I never imagined possible.
The choice looms before me, impossible and inescapable. As I mechanically return to my duties, my mind whirls with possibilities and fears. The life of a mortal or the power of the underworld. The familiar comfort of my past or the thrilling unknown of my future.
Joesiah or Deus.
I don't know which path to choose, but I know that whatever decision I make will change everything. As I mix elixirs and serve patrons, I can feel the weight of my choice pressing down on me, the sands of time slipping away as I stand at the crossroads of my existence.