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Hellish: Misfit Misadventures
I Thought Sage Was a Plant

I Thought Sage Was a Plant

The morning came sooner than I’d hoped. The bright sunshine speared through my tired, puffy eyes, waking me unpleasantly. I was used to sleeping in fluffy down bedcovers, thick, supportive mattress, in a princess-sized canopy bed. This was not comparable, and my back ached something awful. I had a crick in my neck, and it felt as if I hadn’t slept a wink, even though I knew that I must have. Groaning, I sat up slowly, stretching achy muscles and rolling stiff joints. The tree that had looked so comfortable last night was now my worst, most hated archnemesis, the moss at its base had soaked my clothes with an awkward uncomfortable dampness, and I had to shake several bugs from my hair. All in all, for my first experience in camping in the wilderness, there was much left to be desired. But I had something important I had to do, and I wouldn’t let it drag me down. No matter how many stupid insects I had to remove from my person.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully.

“Morning,” I grumbled.

“Let’s be off! No time to waste,” he said.

Ugh, he’s a morning person, one of the most irritating personality traits. I sighed, getting up and brushing off the dirt I’d acquired throughout the night. By the time I’d stood, he was already several feet away from me, practically prancing towards the main roads, raring to go. I followed unhappily, my feet trudging through the soft dirt, mussing the grass and moss below.

We walked down the main roads for hours, stopping occasionally to nibble on some field rations that Tomas had kindly shared with me. They tasted as if he’d kept them in his miniature canvas bag for months, but he swore up and down that they always tasted like that, that he’d grabbed them as fresh as he could only the other day. I doubted this; they were musty.

Eventually, the sun peaked in the sky, staring down at us with urgency. So much rested on our backs, so much responsibility. The entire future of the human race could lay in the balance. A war between humans and demons would surely decimate us. We couldn’t hope to compete with their legendary demon sorcerers. I picked up the pace, which really only kept me up to speed with Tom and his longer legs. Again, I cursed my lack of height. I was only able to keep up with him for a few minutes before I tired out and had to return to my typical saunter. Tom had silently matched my tempo the entire time, never leaving me behind, and never once complaining. Instead, he just led the way, adding a comment here and there about the landscape and pointing out a squirrel or two.

We had gone on like this for most of the day, and I wondered how much more we had left. At the peak of a very tall hill, one that was too steep for my pace such that Tom had gone ahead of me, I heard him exclaim.

“We made it!” he shouted.

I almost passed out in relief.

When I finally reached the apex of the hill, I too could see what he was seeing. At the base of this cursed hill and a few miles away from the mountain range far ahead in the distance lay a small village. It must be the one Tom was talking out where his old friend lived.

“You’re sure this is it? It’s pretty small,” I said.

“It’s a retired Demon Hunter village,” he said, standing with his hands on his hips and a wide grin on his face.

“What, so most don’t make it that far?”

His smile faltered. “Uh, guess not. Didn’t think about that too much.”

I shook my head at him. Of course, he hadn’t thought about it too much. He didn’t seem to take my comment to heart, as he began to walk swiftly down the path towards our destination. I followed him down, just as I had been this entire time. One foot after another, and eventually had made it down the hill and to the entrance of the village. At least the descent was much easier than the climb.

“So, you know where he lives, right?” I questioned. It would be my luck that this idiot would be lost within the village. I hoped he knew where this guy lived.

“Yep,” he said, not missing a beat. “Last house on the left. If he’s not there, then he’s at the bar.”

“…let’s try his house, first.” I had no interest in entering a retiree Demon Hunter bar. Knocking on a stranger’s door and asking for help uninvited was bad enough. And, if I was what Tom insinuated, even though I doubted it myself, then it was asking for trouble. I felt nervous just being here, an unwanted guest impinging on the host’s hospitality that hadn’t even been extended yet.

Tom nodded at my suggestion, and we walked through the village down the row of houses, each more eclectic in decoration than the last. The cottages, although small, were each armed with rows and rows of runes. I hoped they wouldn’t be aggressive towards us. I assumed they were to protect against demons. Or solicitors. The last house on the left had the most spells of all. The runes were carved onto decorative rocks, into the outer walls, into the bark of the tree providing shade in the front yard. I still didn’t know what those runes meant, but they looked angry, if that could be possible. Magic ran through them, lighting up red and flickering as we passed by.

Tom noticed me staring warily at the runes. “They just ward off people with ill-intent. Unless you want to murder Old Sage, you should be fine.” He squinted at them, looking closer. “They don’t usually look like that, though.”

I grimaced, closing my eyes to ignore the runes, and took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

Tom walked past the runes to the front door and knocked. Almost immediately, it opened, revealing a short, stout, old man with white hair spouting from the sides of his head. His wild, pale white eyes ranged about, and it was clear that his eyesight was minimal at best.

“Who is it?” the man shouted, then peered closely at Tom’s face.

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Tom didn’t back away, instead allowed for the close inspection.

“Oh, it’s you!” said the old man, a smile gracing his wrinkly face. “Come in!”

“I’ve brought a friend too,” Tom said, turning back to look at me. “She’s afraid of your runes.”

“I see,” he said. He made a wild gesture, as if drawing a shape in the air. The lights in the runes receded until they were dead. “I’ve turned them off. Come in.”

I approached, stepping over the threshold with Tom, led by the old man. I let out the deep breath I’d been holding, half expecting the runes to explode. But, true to his word, the old man had turned them off and I’d been allowed through.

I didn’t know what I’d expected from the inside of the cottage, but it wasn’t this. The outside was small and quaint, just like any other country cottage might be, but the inside was anything but. I stared up at an impossibly high ceiling several stories above me. The walls were lined with bookcases up to the very ceiling, of course filled with books, but also with other odds and ends and magical paraphernalia. I assumed all of the objects were souvenirs of sorts from the man’s adventures and travels. I could hardly turn my eyes away from the sight.

The man had settled himself in a small sitting area in the center of the grand room, conjured up a kettle, and was pouring us each a cup of tea as I had been gaping at the scenery around me.

“Come, sit!” ushered the old man, pointing to the cup of tea he’d just poured me.

A plush armchair swept itself from across the room and scooted itself up to the table, ready for me to sit. I’d never seen such displays of magic, and I was rooted to the spot. Tom, however, seemed entirely used to this, and was already sitting in a rocking chair that had slid up to him. As for me, I’d only read about this level of skill in books, and I’d never heard of anyone that had these abilities in the present day.

We settled in at the table, the old man sipping on his tea, and Tom on his. I was still too shocked to do more than sit gingerly on my surprisingly uncomfortable and bony armchair, despite its lush appearance.

“My boy, Tomas… I haven’t seen you in ages. Where’ve you been? And you’ve brought me lady friend!” The old man waggled his eyebrows, his milky white eyes sparkling with glee.

Tom choked on his tea, spitting it all over the table. “She’s a… new acquaintance, Sage,” Tom said between coughs. “And we need your help.”

The old man, Sage, looked at me with knowing, pale, eyes. “She looks like more than an acquaintance.” He nodded wisely at me. “Pleased to meet you, princess.”

My mouth fell open. “How did you know?”

My mother kept me in the palace for the most part, except for when I routinely snuck out to have a moment to myself. My face was not known throughout the Kingdom, by my mother’s design. It was for my safety, she said. Not to mention, this man was clearly vision impaired. How could he see that I was anything?

“I make it my business to know things. Forgive me for not standing up to greet you, your highness, but these old knees of mine…” He smiled wryly. “Whatever help I can give you I promise I shall provide. What do you need of me?”

Tom swirled his tea in his cup, delicately gripping the delightfully painted china. “Sage… we need to get to the Hell Portal.”

Sage turned serious suddenly, his gaze switching back and forth between us. “What mess have you gotten into now, my boy?”

“It’s important,” I insisted. “For the good of the Kingdom. We need to go there.”

“As you say, your highness,” said Sage, bowing his head. “I’ll go rustle up that map.”

Instead of him getting up, as I expected, he instead waved his hands, and small gush of air wafted through, like a miniature tornado that Sage controlled. It swept through the cottage, searching through bookshelves, swishing up and down stairs, in and out of rooms that I hadn’t even noticed, and finally returned with a small piece of old parchment, aged and spotted.

“Thank you, North,” said Sage pleasantly, waving his hand to dismiss the wind spirit he’d summoned.

This retired demon hunter kept surprising me; first, he knew who I was, then his house was impressively spelled in several different ways, and to top it off, he was on friendly enough terms with the North wind spirit itself to ask it to fetch him something from his own house. What had I gotten myself into?

Sage spread out the folded, almost cloth-like parchment out on the table before us. It resembled a treasure map, in that there was a dotted path to take, ending in a circle, which I assumed to be the location of the portal. Tom and I both leaned forward to see better.

“So, here’s what you’re dealing with,” he said, indicating with a stubby finger and missing the map entirely, instead poking the bare table at least six inches away from the parchment. He really was blind.

Tom looked at me and shrugged.

“We’re here, just off the main road, which is marked,” Sage said. “You’ll follow that main road until you reach the mountains. Those are hard to miss. Inside the mountains are caves, and the map marks the path you’ll take in there. Come out on the other side, and the portal is just past the fields and Diamond Lake, up on the plateau. Should be a relatively easy trek, so to speak.”

Tom and I looked at each other, surprised with the relatively straightforward answer.

“This is the closest active portal I know of… but be careful. It spits you out right out in front of Hazuzu’s castle. You’ll have to come back through it, too. Unless you can convince a powerful demon to create a portal for you out of thin air.” He chuckled, then sat back in his chair, sipping at his tea once more. “Although the journey sounds easy, it’s a dangerous area. I’d watch out for rogue demons, too,” he said nonchalantly. “Humans tend to be assholes as well.”

Tom slid the map into his pocket, securing it. “Thanks, Sage,” he said. “As always, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Until we meet again, my boy,” Sage said, smiling into his teacup. “I’d insist you stay and chat, but I have a feeling this journey needs to start right now. Here, I’ll even help you get started.”

Sage gestured again, just like before, and the North wind appeared again, this time swirling around and presenting two filled back packs, almost instantaneously. If I stayed here any longer, I probably would still never get used to this.

We took the packs and saw that they were filled with the essentials of travel. Field rations, a camping blanket, a small bag of money, and other important stuffs like a change of clothes were all shoved in there, expertly packed.

“Thank you, sir,” I said, astounded with his kindness.

“Of course, dear,” he said sweetly, as if he were a grandfather doting on his favorite grandchild. “I’d do anything for a friend. And even more to avoid gaining another enemy.” He chuckled. “Hopefully this keeps me on your good side, princess.”

I smiled and nodded. “Consider yourself in my good favor for the foreseeable future,” I said pleasantly, warmed by his playful demeanor.

“Now, see yourselves out and be on your way. Time is of the essence!”