Work Text:
Solomon glanced at the chair in the corner of his workroom. Your chair. It’d been over a century since you’d passed, and Solomon had felt every single agonizing minute of your absence like he was watching each individual grain of sand slip through an endless hourglass.
He’d gotten rid of your chair at one point. You’d always sat in it to read while he tinkered with new potions and spells, and he could never break the habit of turning to it to excitedly tell you about any success he had, even after you were gone. It grew too painful to turn and see that cold empty chair shadowed in the corner when he thought he’d be met with your smiling face, so he got rid of it.
Regret filled him within a day. It turned out, not seeing the chair at all was even worse. He’d immediately gone back to the consignment shop where he’d left it, but it was already gone. The ache in his heart became even more painful than the agony at seeing that chair empty, and all he wanted to do was curl up in it to feel like you were still with him, if only for a moment.
It took him over two decades to find the chair again. It was the only piece of you he could bring back into his life at the time.
But his suffering would finally end tonight.
After a century of trial and error, he’d finally done it.
Solomon turned back to the cauldron on his workbench and tossed in the foxglove he’d been gripping a little too tightly as he looked at your chair.
Tonight, he could see you again.
He tipped the final ingredient into the cauldron. Solomon wasn’t proud of what he’d done to get it. He’d broken almost every law within the sorcerer’s code; the code he’d helped write. But nothing mattered to him anymore except seeing you again. He would do anything for that, and he had.
He looked into the cauldron as the dark liquid settled into a mirror-like calm. Solomon’s haggard reflection stared back at him as he watched and waited. Finally, finally, there was a puff of dark smoke from the caldron, and tears filled his tired eyes as he ran a hand through his scraggly hair.
This was it. It was time.
Rushing to the kitchen, Solomon grabbed your favorite mug and poured the contents of the potion into it then headed back to his workroom. He sat down in the old chair and took out his DDD to send Asmodeus his love and to say goodbye. Asmo would know what the message meant; they’d discussed the inevitability of this day.
Solomon gulped the bitter liquid down. He could feel the effects immediately. His body felt lighter, and his head was already starting to feel fuzzy. He let his eyes droop for a moment like they wanted to and saw Thirteen standing before him when he opened them again. He smiled. “Ah, my old friend Thirteen. I’m glad it’s you.”
Her dark robe swished across the floor as she approached. “It’s finally time?”
“Yeah.” Solomon chuckled “you always did say you’d get me someday.”
Thirteen almost looked sad. “Why did you try so hard to find a way to die this time?”
Solomon’s smile was soft as his head lulled to the side. “So I could finally see them again.”
Thirteen placed her hand on Solomon’s shoulder. “Then go see them.”
“Thank you.” And with that, Solomon, the witty sorcerer, closed his eyes for the final time. The mug shattered against the floor when it slipped from his limp hand.