\herosection{The Sage}{chapters/2026.03.03-TheSage/image/the-sage.jpg}

\DROPCAP{../../dropcap_c/dropD.png}areth stitched the word on after midnight.

SAGE.

He worked the needle through wool \\
in the trembling lamplight.

Each autumn, \\
the village kept its ancient custom: \\
for one week at the Fall Festival, \\
everyone named themselves what they wished to be.\\
Bakers became admirals.\\
Tailors tried on prophet.\\
Children stitched magnificent ambitions onto their sleeves \\
and danced through the streets.

Then, on the eighth night, \\
everyone burned the titles \\
in a grand bonfire by the sea.

He had never taken part.

Dareth had always known what he was: \\
a dockworker, \\
smelling of rope and brine, \\
hands hardened by cargo and tide.\\
He had felt no need to pretend otherwise.

But last winter his brother had endured \\
a long, grim illness.

Months of coughing.\\
Fever that would not break.\\
Nights propped upright just to breathe.\\
Their small savings drained away.\\
Work missed.\\
Jobs lost.\\
Meals thinned.\\
Hope rising and falling like a cruel tide.

And then he died.

For months afterward, \\
Dareth lay awake staring into the dark, \\
replaying it all.

Why the illness? \\
Why the length of it? \\
Why the suffering? \\
If there was some hidden logic to the world, \\
he meant to find it.

If he understood why things worked the way they did, \\
perhaps there was something he could have done.\\
Something he had failed to see.

That was why, \\
this year, \\
he stitched the word.\\
For one week, \\
instead of a dockworker, \\
he would be a Sage.

The first day brought snickers.\\
By the second, questions.

By the third, \\
people were speaking to him in lowered tones.\\
A fisherman \\
unsure whether to risk deeper waters.\\
A young woman \\
uncertain about a proposal.\\
A horse groomer \\
asking why diligence never seemed to prosper him.

He listened carefully.\\
He asked questions back.\\
He tried to imagine what a wise man might say:

``What do you already know?''

To his surprise, \\
they left steadier than they had arrived.

Which encouraged him — \\
in an unsettling way.

Perhaps there was something to this.\\
Perhaps he had always been meant \\
for more than rope and cargo.

By the seventh night, \\
when others tossed their stitched words \\
into the bonfire, \\
he stood at the edge of the square \\
and did not move.

When someone called him ``Sage,'' he answered, \\
``At your service.''

Then the stranger arrived.

There was nothing remarkable about him, \\
and yet when he looked at someone, \\
it felt as though their innermost thoughts fell quiet.

``You are the sage,'' the stranger said.

``At least I want to be.''

They stood watching the tide press against stone.

``And what price are you willing to pay for Wisdom?'' \\
the stranger asked.

``Comfort,'' he answered quickly. \\
``Leisure.\\
Sleep.\\
I would give them gladly.''

The stranger shook his head.

``That is the price of mere ambition.\\
Wisdom has a far higher price.''

A flicker of irritation crossed Dareth's face. \\
``Then what is the price?''

Before the stranger could answer, \\
shouting broke across the quay.

A young laborer slipped while securing a line.\\
His head struck the edge of the dock.\\
The crack echoed, \\
and he slid into the water tangled in ropes.

Men rushed, \\
dove in, \\
and pulled him out.

Too late.

His wife ran to the quay, sobbing. \\
``Why? Why?''

``Ask the Sage,'' someone said ruefully.

Dareth felt his chest tighten.

This was what he had wanted — \\
the unveiling of hidden logic,\\
the explanation \\
that would make suffering bearable.

He could speak of negligence.\\
Of caution.\\
Of lessons to be learned.\\
He could shape the event \\
into something that resembled order.

The stranger's words echoed in his heart.

What price are you willing to pay?

He understood.

To say ``I have no answer'' \\
would cost him the name.

To stand in the incomprehensible \\
would strip him of the identity \\
he had begun to inhabit.

He swallowed.

``I do not know why this happened,'' he said.

A murmur passed through the crowd.

He continued, more quietly, \\
``We can mend our lines.\\
We can watch our footing.\\
Some things are ours to repair.\\
But why one person is lost and another spared — \\
I do not know.''

Later, \\
by the dark water, \\
Dareth found the stranger again.

``I wanted Wisdom to explain my brother's suffering,'' he said.

``And if it did?'' the stranger asked gently. \\
``Would it change anything?''

He had no answer.

``Wisdom,'' the stranger said, \\
``is not the key to some hidden mechanism.\\
It is the courage to remain faithful \\
when the mechanism does not reveal itself.''

At dawn the stranger was gone.

Dareth took his coat and cut the word free, \\
stitch by stitch.\\
Then he folded it carefully \\
and placed it in a drawer.
