ã€ŠKiss of the Reaperã€‹


 The Chase

    The blistering guitar chords pounded in Death¡¯s ears, fueling her relentless pursuit through the shadowy city streets. Music possessed a unique power, a profound magic in its own right. And despite the Creator magic flowing through her veins, she¡¯d take all the help she could get.

    Death had to catch the demon before he vanished again. That foul creature¡¯s malevolent form stayed just ahead, always out of reach. But Death couldn¡¯t fail. She refused to, not with so many lives at stake. Not with all the known realms at stake.

    As Styx raced through Boston¡¯s city streets, she bobbed her head to the beat. As Death, everything about Styx was heightened, her senses, magic, reaction times, which is why she relied on this powered up state to accomplish the impossible.

    Styx navigated her steed through the urban labyrinth, spring winds grasped at her cowl, acting as quiet accomplices in the chase.

    Under her, the skeletal horse¡¯s bones radiated an unsettling glow, casting spectral reflections on the road, a haunting dance of hollow luminance. When this debacle was concluded, she¡¯d treat Bony to an extra good scrub with his favorite exfoliating brush.

    With every sharp turn, the horse¡¯s hooves maintained their rhythmic sureness. And well they should, for they too were magical. No mere mortal pavement would cause him to stumble. Yet, as they rounded another corner, the horse¡¯s hooves slipped, almost causing a fall.

    Valerie chuckled derisively, the sound seemingly discordant with her current state as War. Linked by the Creator''s power flowing through them, the Four Pales shared an entwined magic that enabled seamless communication while in proximity.

    ¡°Could use some anti-slip, huh?¡± Valerie¡¯s comment sounds crisp and clear, although they were racing down the street at breakneck speeds.

    Styx ignored the comment, planning instead to put laxatives in War¡¯s chocolate chip cookies.

    Without breaking pace, Rowan joined in the tolerated teasing. ¡°I could always cast a spell, so Bony doesn¡¯t slide around.¡± As Pestilence and a druid, it was indeed within her capability to make such a potion.

    Besides Styx, Sorcha grinned. ¡°Why did the horse want a construction job?¡± Famine could hardly contain her laughter.

    Valerie groaned. ¡°Please, no more jokes, Sorcha.¡±

    ¡°It wanted to work on its stable footing!¡± Sorcha broke into laughter.

    ¡°Let¡¯s maintain focus,¡± Styx interjected.

    ¡°Very well, our indomitable leader,¡± Valerie responded, tinged with sarcasm. ¡°Let¡¯s demolish this demon so thoroughly his ancestors will feel it.¡±

    Moving with renewed resolve, the sisters drove their mystical beasts on at furious speeds, their footfalls sounding the coming storm. They¡¯d risk all to see this demon¡¯s plan failed.

    The night cloaked Death, resisting the dawn¡¯s feeble attempt to break, its obsidian shroud a testament to her calling. Scents of light and renewal permeated the city, presaging the morning when oblivious humans would venture into the world, unaware that Death traversed them.

    Ahead, a cloaked silhouette, burdened with an unmoving body, fled through the dim cityscape. Light seemed to find the unmoving figure, embracing it as if it were kin. As a child of the fairies, it radiated vibrancy and illumination.

    ¡°Remember,¡± Styx said to her companions. ¡°We have a responsibility to the realms. No matter what happens to us, we need to ensure their safety. That is why the Creator¡¯s bestowed this power on us.¡±

    ¡°We must catch these abominations,¡± Valerie bellowed. She swung her sword in sweeping movements, the streetlights glowing bright against the metal of her armor. Her powerful muscles shone as she swung her blessed sword, the raw strength and power evident of one worthy of being called War.

    Death cringed at the volume. ¡°What do you think we¡¯re attempting!?¡±

    Above, War¡¯s dragon, Typhon, swooped low. His scales blazed as molten fire, capturing the faint light and gleaming like bloody gold.

    ¡°I will end you,¡± War screamed, and Typhon echoed her sentiment with a mighty roar that tore through the air.

    Abruptly, the figure pivoted and unleashed a torrent of magic. A sphere of burning blue energy hurtled toward the group, striking a building and melting its fa?ade with a shattering boom.

    ¡°Chasing him this way is frustrating¡ªI feel like a mere cat,¡± Sorcha complained.

    Typhon hurled a fireball at the fleeing demon. Light flared, bouncing off windows and streetlights, while intense heat scorched the edges of Death¡¯s cloak.

    ¡°Be careful, War. This cloak is my favorite,¡± Styx snapped. ¡°If you burn this one, you¡¯re replacing it! And not with that cheap crap, either.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s pointless to admonish her,¡± Rowan interjected. Her diseased bear, Kiyomi, trundled behind, its fur matted and skin marred by open wounds. As bits of rotting flesh fell to the pavement, they evaporated into noxious mist. The bear growled at the descending dragon. ¡°War will act as she pleases, even if it means incinerating us.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised she hasn¡¯t invited Nyxen to a wrestling match,¡± Sorcha quipped.

    War grinned and brandished her sword, slashing at nothing. ¡°When we catch him, I¡¯ll do far worse!¡±

    Typhon¡¯s wings beat forcefully, sending gusts of heated wind and debris over the horsewomen.

    ¡°Watch it, you lunatic!¡± Sorcha bellowed, shielding her face with a thin wrist. Her skeletal Warg issued a guttural warning. The emaciated creature was all sinew and bone, trembling with boundless hunger. ¡°I won¡¯t tolerate another incident like what happened in Carthage.¡±

    ¡°Your mounts are earthbound; don¡¯t blame me for their limitations,¡± Valerie retorted, accelerating her pace. But the pursued demon seemed to sense her intent and pivoted.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Rowan yelled, her hands moving rapidly and her lips murmuring incantations. Dark purple ebbed and flowed around her fingers. The spell asked the trees along the road for help. In return, they stretched their limbs outward.

    The demon aimed another fiery projectile at War. Pestilence rallied the spell, and the branches tried to yank the flaming missile away. Despite Death¡¯s shouted warning, the bolt hit Typhon.

    The dragon roared in a mixture of agony and fury, shaking the buildings and shattering windows. Valerie shouted her insults at the demon, fists shaking with barely contained fury.

    ¡°I will chain you to a stone and let eagles feast on your liver!¡± Valerie howled.

    Digging her heels into Bony¡¯s ribs, Styx urged him to accelerate. Rowan and Sorcha kept pace on either side, while Valerie soared overhead.

    Defeat was not an option. Creator magic pulsed in their veins, fortifying their muscles and willpower. They were gods, their names spoken in half-reverent whispers and fear.

    Ahead, the demon floated over the street, the unconscious form still dangling lifelessly from its grasp. The demon¡¯s unique energy spiked the air, filling it with heat and radiance.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°We must retrieve Aelina,¡± Sorcha hissed. ¡°The Fairy Empress needs us to save her niece.¡±

    ¡°Damn these demons and their diabolical plans for these hostages,¡± Styx growled.

    For half a year, they¡¯d hunted these elusive demons, who vanished without a trace, leaving drained, lifeless victims in their wake. Jaw set with iron determination, Death urged Bony faster, the skeletal steed responding to her mistress''s urgency. Failure was not an option. The balance held too much¡ªinnocent lives, the safety of the realms, and a rare opportunity to eliminate the demon scourge.

    Beside her, Styx sensed Rowan weaving another spell, its potency palpable as it coursed through the earth, igniting the surroundings with sharp, fiery fervor. Dark purple tendrils danced around Pestilence¡¯s hands, cascading like molten shadows.

    Magic saturated the air, icy as a bitter wind, deep as an unexplored cavern, and resilient as tempered steel. It smelled magnificent.

    ¡°I stand with you!¡± Styx¡¯s voice cut through the wind. The dark magic unique to her cascaded a great wave and intertwined with Pestilence¡¯s, releasing a blissful scent of decay.

    Famine¡¯s unsettling green magic melded into the colors Pestilence held. War plucked a single feather from her spectral wings, and Pestilence deftly wove it into the heart of their spell.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need some time.¡± Rowan¡¯s voice quaking with exertion.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, sister, I will do what I can,¡± Sorcha said.

    ¡°Promise me you won¡¯t stray for food, Famine,¡± Valerie warned. ¡°I don¡¯t want to come looking for you.¡±

    Sorcha grimaced. ¡°Not like I can eat any of it. Stupid decaying magic. Preventing me from¡­¡± Her voice trailed off as she guided her Warg, Katsuc, into an alley. Their footfalls echoed off the narrow walls, then suddenly ceased.

    ¡°Is that spell coming this century?¡± Styx cast a fleeting glance at Rowan, who said nothing but drew upon more magic.

    Down the street, the figure skidded to a stop as Famine burst out from an alleyway. Instead of being a corporal being, now she was half-spirit. A threatening mist of brown and green rippled outward and spread across the street.

    On either side of the road, the trees began to wilt, the grasses grew brown and sickly. The demon abruptly stopped, somehow knowing not to cross Famine¡¯s magic.

    The sudden movement dislodged the cowl and exposed the villain. With an unseen twist of her fingers, the music suddenly silenced, and Styx was left with the silence before a fight.

    "This ends now," Death declared. She would see their months-long hunt culminate at last in this street, this hour. Locking eyes with Nyxen, she charged the Pales, a raging tempest behind her. Everything they protected depended on what unfolded next.

    Bony halted, stomping impatiently and snapping at the demon. Typhon descended, pulverizing the road under his bulk. Behind them, Rowan hung back, slender fingers dancing as she gathered power, the spice of her druid magic growing heavy on the air.

    The long night''s chase through empty streets had led Death to this moment, this showdown, failure pacing hungrily in the shadows. She stood resolute before the leering demon, refusing to let it unleash ruin on all under her sworn protection. Her scythe would taste its vile blood before dawn broke.

    ¡°You four are a disappointment,¡± Nyxen taunted, patting his hostage. Aelina gargled, her white blood dripping to form steamy clouds on the pavement. Wounding a fairy ensured the demon¡¯s eternal damnation. When her turn came to guide his soul, Death vowed to deliver him to the worst fates the underworld offered.

    ¡°Ha! I never knew demons were funny,¡± Sorcha snorted.

    ¡°I wonder, Death, have you considered what would happen if you finally unlocked that withered heart of yours? You cannot hide from fate forever. We¡¯ll find the key that awakens what you have buried away soon enough.¡±

    ¡°Enough talk,¡± Valerie retorted. ¡°You¡¯re all killers, and not the commendable kind!¡±

    ¡°Here! Here!¡± Styx shouted. ¡°We¡¯re going to end you and all your followers.¡±

    Nyxen laughed. ¡°You¡¯re welcome to try. Centuries have passed and you haven¡¯t even scratched one of us.¡±

    "That¡¯s because you¡¯re all cowards!" War yelled, launching herself off Typhon''s back, spectral wings extended to catch the air and guide her descent. "You hide instead of facing us."

    ¡°You¡¯ll languish in the underworld with the cursed until the Creators stop time!¡± Death added.

    ¡°By the Creators! Let blood fall!¡± War¡¯s battle cry echoed as she bore her toward Nyxen.

    Nyxen shrugged and let Aelina drop to the pavement. She landed with a sickening crunch and lay motionless. A pool of white blood slowly spread. Styx clenched her teeth; such treatment was unwarranted for any creature¡ªwell, almost any.

    ¡°Embrace the void!¡± Death hollered, rushing to join War.

    A twist of her wrist conjured a scythe into her grip. Carved from the bone of a wendigo, which finally perished under northern skies, felled by warriors after a long hunt. The blade was underworld-forged, its iron culled from the blood of men who died after experiencing no success in life.

    Nyxen smirked, his magic built around him, a strange blue mist that smelled like tainted hope. Death stared, dumbfounded, as he pulled a sword from his own thigh. Boiling blue blood dripped down the metal, melting the pavement upon contact.

    Poised for battle, Nyxen¡¯s weapon gleamed menacingly. Still, Styx had no intentions of backing down.

    With a primal roar, War dove towards him, her blessed blade singing with a thirst for blood. Death smiled when its eager cry for blood reached her ears.

    She charged, her scythe carving a deadly path. With an unnatural ease, Nyxen parried both attacks with ease. Both weapons clashed with a discordant twang.

    A numbing vibration traveled down the handle, momentarily numbing Death¡¯s elbows. She gritted her teeth, aware that mortal bones would shatter under such force. But she was a god, not a fragile mortal.

    With a quick maneuver, she broke free from Nyxen¡¯s hold. As War rallied for another attack, Death lunged forward. Yet Nyxen deflected the scythe inches from his face, his grin turning macabre.

    ¡°Remember, you are no match for demonic strength!¡± Nyxen held his blade high.

    ¡°You are nothing but specks of dust!¡± Styx retorted.

    ¡°I am a Valkyrie! I am WAR!¡± War cried, vaulting skyward. Her wings spread wide as she dove. ¡°This will not be an easy victory.¡±

    Snarling in rage, War ignited her sword with poison fire. Nyxen dodged the blow narrowly, the flames singeing his cloak. Death swooped in low and hooked his legs with her scythe. He crashed to the ground.

    Sorcha stayed where she was, holding her hands outward. The rotting magic she contained encircled them. The demon hissed when his hand came in contact with that foul rot.

    Nyxen jumped up, his sword tracing a deadly arc toward Death¡¯s chest. She parried the strike with the shaft of her scythe, and the impact jolting her bones. War executed an overhead slash, but Nyxen evaded it and grinned viciously. The battle had only just begun.

    ¡°You and your realms are pathetic,¡± Nyxen spat. ¡°We¡¯ve studied your magic for centuries and found you wanting.¡±

    Nyxen circled, feinted to the left, and then struck right, his crimson blade cutting across War¡¯s thigh. ¡°Your realms will fall to us. We¡¯ll eradicate your pitiful magic from every corner of every realm, known or unknown.¡±

    War staggered back, blood pouring from the wound. With a precise blow, his blade bit at Death. Death staggered, letting out a cry as her cloak tore. She sensed her own purple ichor oozing down her skin.

    Seizing the opportunity, she mustered her full strength and thrust the base of her scythe into Nyxen¡¯s chest. His ribs cracked under the force. ¡°I am Death! You are unworthy of conquering me!¡±

    Nyxen roared in fury and swung his sword, pushing Death back. She parried each blow, but the reverberation jarred her arms.

    In a burst of unholy speed, Nyxen struck Death¡¯s cheek with a backhand. Pain surged through her as she fell to the ground, her mouth filling with blood. She spat out purple blood, and it sparked as it struck the pavement.

    ¡°I am a demon prince. My blood is ancient¡ªolder than you, this place, or the magic in your veins!¡±

    As Nyxen stood over Death, poised to strike, a piercing cry rang out. War burst from the darkness, spectral wings driving her sword towards the gloating demon. Her blade sent him skidding away with a clash.

    In one smooth motion, Death sprang to her feet, scythe at the ready as War landed lightly next to her. Wings shedding eerie light, War raised her sword again, the razor-sharp edge hungry for more violence.

    Together the two sisters advanced, Death''s scythe carving deadly arcs through the air with each step. They pressed their attack as Nyxen struggled to mount a defense alone against their combined fury.

    Nyxen channeled his power; his wounds healed at an unnatural pace. Roaring, he met their attack. His blade clashed with War¡¯s, emitting sparks. Death twisted low, but Nyxen grabbed the scythe shaft and tossed her aside. Though she tumbled, she maintained her grip on the weapon.

    War continued her assault, her blade descending in a flurry, Nyxen parried each strike.

    ¡°We must end this now,¡± Death declared, standing up. War touched down beside her, wings retracting. United, they advanced, a remnant surge of divine power coursing through them. Today, Nyxen would fall.

    I¡¯m ready, Pestilence said.

    Death sensed it¡ªthe surge of magic Rowan had amassed, a volatile force on the brink of release. This provided their opportunity to bring the combined might of the Four Pales to bear on Nyxen.

    ¡°We are the four Horsewomen of the apocalypse! No demon will concur us!¡± Death yelled.

    With a tortured cry, Pestilence unleashed the druid spell. Light seared through the darkness, turning night into blinding day. The acrid smell of ozone filled the air, and raw energy tingled on Death¡¯s skin. Cracks in the pavement radiated intense heat, and windows transformed into molten fire.

    The volatile orb of magic rocketed toward Nyxen, sparking and crackling. The demon braced himself, raising his sword in a futile gesture. With a resounding explosion, the spell struck his chest, and the light bathing him in everything he opposed.

    Unable to bear the searing energy, Death turned her back, her flesh singed by the heat. The glow etched afterimages into her vision. She blinked hard, struggling to clear the distortion.

    ¡°Did we get him?¡± Famine inquired.

 Blinding Power

    Failure¡ªan unfamiliar emotion Death hadn¡¯t experienced in over a century. But now it stared her in the face as Nyxen escaped into a narrow side street.

    ¡°Four Pales!¡± she shouted, brandishing her scythe in the air. ¡°This creature of destruction won¡¯t consume what we¡¯ve worked to uphold!¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s show him why everyone whispers the name Four Pales in fear and respect,¡± Valerie yelled. ¡°We will show all the demons why we are gods!¡±

    Sorcha and Rowan hollered as they all mounted their beasts. Bony snorted and tossed his head. As soon as Death sat, he reared. Hooves struck the air, lashing out at the ending night. Taking advantage of such a display, Death rose straighter and held her scythe high.

    She was the god of death and the underworld. Men openly wept when they saw her. Women cried out in terror. The demon would soon know those feelings.

    ¡°Embrace the void!¡± Styx yelled before her mount exploded into movement.

    Hooves pounded the pavement, rippling through the streets like death on the wind. Typhon beat his powerful wings, rising abruptly. The thunderous thumping churning the air into a tempest. Somewhere behind her, the other mounts scrambled into movement, their nails scratching across the road.

    Nyxen shot them a single smirk, before his magic twisted around a manhole and heaved the heavy metal away.

    ¡°Stop him!¡± Styx yelled.

    Typhon sent a blistering fireball, but the demon was gone by the time it scorched the pavement.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± she spat.

    ¡°That¡¯s an access hatch to the subway,¡± Rowan said, coming up beside her. Kiyomi snorted and shook his patchy head. Rowan leaned forward and scratched behind his ears.

    Sorcha stopped and glowered. ¡°We have to follow. But it¡¯s all cement and metal down there, so at least I won¡¯t be rotting anything important.¡±

    ¡°Not like when we had to go stop the Kappa,¡± Valerie snickered. ¡°Remember the look on the poor farmer¡¯s face after Famine got there?¡±

    Death looked up at the circling dragon. The subway tunnels weren¡¯t suitable for a dragon. The hulking beast wouldn¡¯t even fit with a shrinking spell. But to lose War, would be a devastating blow.

    Before Styx could decide, however, Valerie screamed and dove from the saddle. Her wings splayed outward and with a subtle plunk, dove into the hole.

    ¡°Why does she always do that?¡± Sorcha asked. ¡°It¡¯s like her signature move. Remember Singapore?¡±

    ¡°Singapore was nothing,¡± Rowan said, adjusting her feathers. ¡°Remember Troy?¡±

    ¡°That was a cluster fuck,¡± Sorcha sighed.

    ¡°I guess we¡¯ve decided,¡± Death said.

    She raced toward the subway entrance a few feet away, the Pales clattering down the stone stairs after her.

    The few humans they passed only shot them weary glances. Their magic was potent enough that they only saw blurs of light or passing shadows. If someone were to stop and study the apparitions, they might catch a glimpse.

    Death smirked as they passed a rather delinquent looking teenager. With a casual flick of her fingers, the obscuring spell faded. The teenager¡¯s mouth dropped open and horror spread across his face.

    Death towered before him, scythe in hand, cowl shading her features. Darkness gathered around the edges of her cloak. It swirled and rolled like mist. The teen took one look and screamed. He scrambled backward and nearly knocked himself out, trying to get away.

    ¡°Remember to floss!¡± She yelled out before the spell snapped back.

    ¡°Was that necessary?¡± Sorcha asked. ¡°You probably scared that poor kid shitless.¡±

    ¡°Not probably,¡± Rowan said. ¡°I can smell his refuse from here. The boy needs more fiber.¡±

    Styx chuckled as they entered the subway tunnel. The cold condensed air was a far cry from the open streets. At least above ground, a breeze could wash away the odor of human detriment. Here, nothing could disperse the scent of man, machine, and industry.

    Kiyomi snapped at Katsuc, the bear nearly taking a chunk from the Warg¡¯s flank. These close quarters made their mounts anxious. Not that they should. Subway tunnels were an excellent source of deaths. In fact, she could feel a few ghosts lingering.

    To me, she called out. To me.

    A tiny smirk spread across her unseen lips. Those entities would be of great use.

    ¡°Prepare yourself, Pestilence,¡± Death said telepathically. ¡°I¡¯ve sensed some ghosts.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Pestilence responded. ¡°You¡¯re summoning them to help, and I¡¯ll just have to deal with it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, they¡¯ll be an important ally.¡± Death responded.

    ¡°Thanks for warning me.¡±

    Up ahead, Death felt War. The Valkyrie was following the demon, sending bolts of magic through the concrete structures. Occasionally Styx could make out clips of crashing and shouts of anger.

    They rounded a bend and spotted the two in the distance. War and Nyxen were fighting in earnest now.

    ¡°Rowan, I want you to prepare now. Sorcha go to the surface, block off any escape.¡±

    Death¡¯s shout echoed through the darkened tunnels as she charged into the fray, scythe raised. Up ahead, War grappled with Nyxen, exchanging blows amidst sporadic bursts of magic that blistered the walls.

    The screech of metal echoed through the dark tunnel as Nyxen¡¯s blade glanced off the tracks. Sparks erupted in its wake, raining down in sizzling pinpricks on Death¡¯s cloak. She inhaled the acrid tang of scorched iron that mingled with the stale underground air.

    It reminded her of death, and that was a glorious thing.

    From the platform¡¯s edge, frigid subway winds buffeted her frame, offering fleeting relief from the sweltering magical energy that charged the restricted space. The erratic bursts of light from magical strikes cast the weathered concrete pillars in alternating patterns of shadow and illumination.

    Somewhere down the tunnel, the rhythmic rumbling of an oncoming train built, underscoring each resounding clash of blades. The ceaseless noise amplified the confined feeling, like being trapped in a metal tomb.

    Death steadied her grip, the worn bone familiar against her calloused palm. With a primal scream, she pressed the offensive, and the sound echoed ominously through the underground tunnel.

    The violence spilled out onto a station stop, mortals fleeing before the erratic bursts of light and electric bolts.

    With a sweep of her spectral wings, War hurled the demon against a concrete pillar. It cracked under the force. Roaring, Nyxen rebounded and slashed with his cursed sword. War swiftly evaded, the blade cutting through the air, grazing a feather from her wing.

    ¡°You fight like a coward!¡± War bellowed, igniting her sword with divine flames.

    She slashed downwards, but Nyxen sidestepped, letting the blade glance off the rails with an ear-piercing screech. Sparks erupted in their wake.

    Seizing the distraction, Death launched at Nyxen from behind. Her scythe cut a deadly arc through the shadows. At the last second, the demon whirled, steel meeting bone with a resounding clang.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Two on one?¡± Nyxen taunted, his fiendish grin visible even in the dim light. ¡°Hardly seems fair.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know fair if it impaled you,¡± Death spat.

    With a vengeful shriek, Death pressed forward, forcing Nyxen back under a barrage of strikes. Behind her, she sensed War taking to the air once more.

    The smell of electricity and magic hung heavy. It fed off the potent human emotions that lingered. Cracks of electricity bounced off the metal rails and danced along the ceiling.

    A roar reverberated as a subway train approached from the tunnel ahead. Its brilliant light cut through the darkness. The wind whipped as the train came closer, transforming the stagnant space into that of a battlefield.

    ¡°Nowhere left to run, demon!¡± Death yelled over the growing din.

    Nyxen¡¯s eyes darted between the oncoming train and the advancing horsewomen. Snarling, he grabbed the fairy hostage.

    ¡°If you want her to live, stay back!¡±

    Death hesitated. In that instant, Nyxen hurled a ball of vile magic. It exploded against the ceiling, raining down rubble and dust. Coughing, Death raised her cloak against the debris.

    She heard the train screeching in protest as it slammed on the brakes to avoid the onslaught. The ground quaked as the massive hulk of metal and man ground to a halt.

    Vision clearing, she saw Nyxen¡¯s silhouette retreating down the adjacent tunnel. With an echoing cry, War ran after him.

    Styx sprinted to follow, vaulting over discarded bottles and refuse. She raced past ancient graffiti, signs riddled with holes. Her passage was only evident in the blur of light and the rustle of debris caught in her flight.

    Bounding up the stairs two at a time, she burst out into the fading night. The cool air sharply contrasted with the oppression of the underground tunnel.

    Early morning was beginning to grip the human world, with mortals waking and preparing for their day. Ahead, she found War and Nyxen locked in heated combat once more. Death tightened her grasp on the scythe. Now was the time to strike.

    But before she had a chance, the comforting chill of the dead caressed her skin. Goosebumps prickled across her arms as the oncoming ghosts came near.

    Rowan, she knew, would hide behind a barrier now that they approached. Not that she blamed the druid, Pestilence and the undead didn¡¯t mix.

    ¡°Hold him off for a moment,¡± Death shouted to War.

    ¡°What do you think I¡¯ve been doing!?¡±

    War pressed the attack, her sword ablaze, forcing Nyxen backward. He parried each blow, cursing under the onslaught. With a beat of her spectral wings, War vaulted into the air, feathered limbs spread wide.

    Nyxen seized the opening. A bolt of acidic magic burst from his palm, striking War¡¯s thigh as she hovered. She cried out as her armor sizzled, the stench of corroded metal filling the subway tunnel.

    Staggering from the glancing hit, War landed awkwardly. Nyxen pounced, his jagged blade carving across her shoulder. Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from the wound, the sweet scent mingling with acrid smoke.

    Hissing in pain, War shot upwards, tattered wings angling to ride the drafts. She arced just over Nyxen''s follow-up strike; the sword finding only air as she glided out of reach.

    Death smirked and welcomed several ghosts. They looked at her with wide-eyed wonder. Without speaking, she pointed at the demon with her scythe.

    Now that blood had been spilled, they¡¯d become more violent, the frenzy of that life source overtaking any calm notions in their blank minds.

    With a roar, War unleashed a devastating series of overhead slashes, forcing Nyxen onto the defensive.

    The Valkyrie¡¯s strikes rained down unrelentingly, spitting sparks with each collision against the demon¡¯s blackened sword. Nyxen backpedaled under the onslaught, struggling to weather the storm.

    Since the ghosts were there. They pawed and grabbed at the demon, but before they could do any actual damage, Nyxen laughed.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to do better than that, god of the dead,¡± he said with a smile.

    ¡°That¡¯s right, I am the god of the dead, and now they will¡­¡±

    Before she could finish, a strange wave of an unknown magic filtered across the space. When it fizzled, Death watched in something close to stunned horror as the ghosts stopped.

    Nyxen appeared to be conversing with them, and one ghost even burst into laughter that sounded like a bark.

    ¡°Great,¡± Valerie sighed. ¡°They can talk to the dead, too. Yay.¡±

    Now instead of following her instruction, the ghosts turned and focused on War.

    ¡°Shit, Valerie, get out of here. They¡¯ll feed off you!¡±

    War held her blazing sword aloft and for a second Styx thought she¡¯d stay and fight. But rather than doing something so foolish, War split and ran.

    Nyxen chuckled, the noise echoing off the old walls. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re lacking¡­again!¡±

    He scooped the fairy off the ground and laughed as he moved further down the street. With a whispered curse, Styx darted forward and sliced each ghost with her scythe.

    It took precious time to banish them, but now she didn¡¯t have to worry about them going after Valerie or Rowan.

    Death scrambled behind him, slipping in the pool of War¡¯s blood. She swore as she raced to follow the demon, bursting around the corner a minute later.

    Frantically, she scanned the area, desperate to find any glimpse of him. There he was!

    ¡°He¡¯s entering the parking garage! To me!¡± Styx shouted needlessly.

    The familiar magic pressed in tighter, approaching from all directions as the other Pales came near. War now sat atop her dragon, golden blood still dripping from her wounds.

    Famine inched closer, rotting magic dripping from her fingers. When the drops found anything organic, the material bubbled and decayed. The brown and green decaying mist spread outwards like a flowing veil of rot.

    Pestilence emerged from the subway, the bone charms dangling from her belt clinked together. All the feathers woven into her long braid fluttered in the wind. Her expression was one Styx knew well. Annoyance and Rowan hated feeling annoyed.

    Typhon shot a fireball into the parking garage. Instantly, several cars burst into flames. The tainted smell of burning metal and gas blocked out everything pleasant.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get donuts after this,¡± Valerie said. ¡°Kane¡¯s is just around the corner.¡±

    ¡°Awwwwww, don¡¯t talk about food. I¡¯m so hungry.¡± Sorcha moaned and rubbed her stomach.

    ¡°Perhaps we should address this first.¡± Styx emphasized the statement with a roll of magic.

    ¡°Fine, then let¡¯s kill Nyxen. I¡¯m hungry.¡± Valerie dismounted Typhon and gave his head a pat as she walked past. The dragon snorted a ball of steam.

    Death, War, Pestilence, and Famine entered the burning structure. A disgusting odor of melting plastic and melting electrical components was stronger inside, despite the open structure.

    Death gasped as they turned the corner and, instead of encountering just one demon, they faced the entire hoard. A figure stepped forward, and Death knew who he was.

    ¡°Rowan,¡± Asher hollered across the garage. ¡°Pestilence always looks so fierce. Though perhaps not as fierce as War. Valerie sure knows how to look impressive. Look at those rippling muscles.¡±

    ¡°Come closer and say that to me,¡± Rowan snapped.

    ¡°Come on, Asher,¡± Valerie shouted. ¡°It¡¯ll be fun to have a little wrestle. I¡¯ll break your arms off.¡±

    Asher chuckled, a remarkably human sound for a demon. ¡°No thank you. I¡¯ve heard too many rumors of your wrestling prowess to attempt that. Besides, I¡¯m sure Sorcha will try to melt my face off or something. She¡¯s got those wicked Famine powers.¡±

    ¡°Enough chatter!¡± Death shouted.

    ¡°Styx! So good to see you. Intimidating as always. I love you as Death. The grim reaper vibe does a lot for me. But you see, we have things to do and places to be. You know, standard stuff.¡±

    ¡°Not until you return, Aelina.¡± Rowan pointed to the hostage.

    ¡°Sorry, but we need her,¡± Asher called out.

    ¡°We need help to remake the realms,¡± Nyxen said. ¡°That takes some assistance from unwilling participants.¡±

    Asher chuckled, and with that, he melted back into the horde, and they all clustered in a circle.

    ¡°No!¡± Rowan yelled.

    She darted forward, and Death scrambled after her. Without a second glance, Pestilence pulled the pouch from her belt.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it!¡± Death shouted at her companion.

    ¡°I will not fail!¡± Rowan responded.

    Now the scent of earth magic mingled with the odors of the human world. Words tumbled from Pestilence, whipping the magic into a heightened frenzy.

    ¡°Pestilence! You cannot unleash such a spell here. Not with Aelina so weakened, not with War¡¯s blood exposed!¡±

    But her companion didn¡¯t hear her. Instead, she worked the building power, molding it, and crafting it into the superb weapon it was meant to be.

    Now only seconds remained before she¡¯d release it into the world. It would probably work. A spell of that magnitude had a slim chance of failing, but the result would be devastating.

    Behind them, War grabbed onto Famine, twisting her body to shield Famine with her massive strength. Death tried one more time to yank Pestilence away from the growing vengeance. But her grasp just barely missed.

    Death braced herself.

    Pestilence began the irrevocable final steps of the spell, whispered words that whipped the developing power into a frenzy. It was seconds from completion when an unfamiliar magic ripped the area apart.

    Blinding light erupted from the demons, drowning out the world in its brilliance. Then came a bone-rattling boom that rocked the very foundations of the garage.

    The deafening vibration of the blast wave slammed into Death, flinging her body against unforgiving concrete. Ears ringing, she struggled to rise as debris rained down in stinging projectiles.

    The parking garage trembled under the force of the explosion, metallic groans joining the ear-splitting shatter of glass. Gouts of flame engulfed vehicles, spewing waves of blistering heat. Acrid gasoline fumes mingled with scorched paint, searing Death¡¯s nose, and throat as she gasped for breath.

    Blinding smoke obscured the demolished garage, burning her eyes. The other horsewomen lay strewn amidst the flaming wreckage, their divine powers unexpectedly stripped away. For the first time in eons, stark mortal terror gripped Death, no magic left to shield her immortal form.

    Styx remained trembling, the shock of losing Death was almost overwhelming. While both forms were natural, being yanked so abruptly out of Death was disconcerting.

    Scorching winds whipped as Styx blinked blood from her eyes, trembling at their unbelievable defeat. Their arrogance gone, the gods now cowered, helpless as the humans they protected.

    ¡°Looks like we lost,¡± Valerie said. Even stripped of War, she was bleeding from several wounds. Gold dripped to the cement where it sparked against the broken cement.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Rowan struggled to kneel. The powerful spell that she¡¯d been working on was now nothing but the faint crackle of energy dancing along her fingers.

    Sorcha moaned and held her head, as a few cuts dripped sickly green blood. Valerie handed her a handkerchief, which Sorcha eagerly accepted.

    Full of unfamiliar emotions, Styx punched the only standing column. An enormous crack developed, and the support tumbled down to join its brothers in destruction.

    ¡°We have to tell the fairy empress we failed.¡±

 The Scholar

    Morning light filtered into the kitchen where Caleb stood enraptured by ¡°A History of Hexes,¡± oblivious to the burning eggs on the stove. The old tome lay open before him, its worn pages releasing a musty aroma into the quiet kitchen. The odor of burning eggs competed with the mustiness wafting up from the fragile pages.

    Though the unpleasant smell invaded his senses, Caleb found himself too enthralled analyzing the faded scrawl detailing an ancient witch¡¯s curse to care, pushing aside the concern to focus on just one more paragraph. With distracted motions, he swirled the cooking spoon about the pan. These descriptions of the curse a vengeful witch placed on a village were way more fascinating that watching eggs cook.

    ¡°Ingenious! She used pickled chicken feet and dried elderberries for the tonic. No wonder it worked.¡±

    He scratched his chin, automatically thinking about where he could look in his massive collection to learn more. Books occupied every available surface, transforming the Victorian mansion into a labyrinthine library. From Latin philosophies to Japanese poetry, the volumes transported him across history and cultures.

    Bored, he picked up the book again. The soft rustle of pages joined the sizzle of the pan. Except now he wasn¡¯t reading. A woman was running before him, swinging a scythe at some unseen enemy.

    Startled by the sudden vision, Caleb yelped and dropped the book. His heart thumped in his chest, something inside burning hot. It was irrational, but he wanted to know this woman, talk to her, touch her hand, kiss her¡­

    He rubbed his chest. ¡°That¡¯s why I get for trying to be a witch for all those years. I¡¯m going insane. Completely bonkers.¡±

    Hoping for a reprieve, he picked up the book and leaned on the counter to finish the chapter.

    Except the words didn¡¯t seem to register. Instead, he was thinking about the woman. She seemed important, someone to trust. But that was crazy. Trust took time to form. It didn¡¯t sprout into life after fleeting visions.

    ¡°WTF?¡± Emma¡¯s voice broke his focus.

    The sharp exclamation broke his focus and startled him. Yet again, the book landed on the floor.

    ¡°Ladybug!¡± he exclaimed, using his nickname for his niece and intern, Emma.

    ¡°Uncle, always with your books during cooking! One day you¡¯ll burn the house down.¡±

    He waved a dripping spatula at her. ¡°Naw.¡±

    ¡°And all your precious books will be ash.¡±

    Caleb startled and gasped. The idea of all his books being gone and destroyed sent shivers of fear skating down his back.

    ¡°Well, at least I finished the chapter,¡± he said, scraping the scorched remains onto his plate.

    Emma eyed the food dubiously.

    He held the pan out. ¡°Eggs?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m allergic.¡±

    ¡°Since when?¡±

    ¡°When they became more rubber than fluff.¡±

    He laughed, stuffing a bite into his mouth. The flavor was far from good, but a hardy dump of salt would improve it. Did the mystery scythe wielding woman like eggs? Gah! No, he wouldn¡¯t allow himself such thoughts.

    Did she like eggs? Come on!

    Emma got herself a glass of apple juice and settled down with her own book. A peaceful quiet surrounded them, interrupted only by the occasional rustling of pages or the sound of cutlery.

    Now and then, the refrigerator¡¯s hum would elicit a raspy breath from the aging machine. He needed to replace that ancient behemoth; it likely dated back to the Nixon administration, or perhaps Queen Victoria¡¯s reign, considering he was in England.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening today?¡± Emma asked, yet again startling him.

    ¡°We¡¯re cleaning out the basement. The university has approved my new project, and my work desk is in the basement.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s wonderful! What¡¯s this book going to be?¡±

    Caleb beamed. ¡°The Arcane Nexus: Unraveling the Mysteries of Occult Sciences. It delves into arcane enigmas, examining the complex web of mysticism and ancient knowledge¡­¡±

    ¡°The title would¡¯ve been enough.¡±

    He laughed. ¡°You asked.¡±

    She shot back with a smirk. ¡°Not for an entire lecture.¡±

    ¡°Did you replace the cans when you came in?¡±

    Emma sighed. ¡°I did, as always. Useless as they are.¡±

    ¡°Those cans aren¡¯t mere decorations. They¡¯re engraved with protective spells.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve forgotten last year¡¯s break-in? Those so-called spells don¡¯t work. Sometimes, Uncle, you can be a bit¡­unconventional.¡±

    ¡°When you¡¯ve seen what I have, caution becomes instinctual.¡±

    Emma placed her book aside, her expression a combination of fondness and mild exasperation. Most everyone looked at him like that. He was used to it. ¡°You¡¯re so strange, even without the occult obsession.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about? I¡¯m totally normal¡­in some crowds. You just have to look sort of hard.¡±

    She nudged him. ¡°Maybe, but I¡¯m way more normal than you are.¡±

    ¡°What is normal? I¡¯m uncertain if one can define that. Because normal for us here differs from normal in other places. For example, you¡¯d be married at 17 in Niger.¡±

    ¡°Regardless of time or place, Uncle, you¡¯d stand out.¡±

    ¡°But isn¡¯t that the charm? Conformity is mundane. There¡¯s joy in being¡­unique. The world is full of ordinary.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re justifying how weird you are.¡± Emma eyed him. ¡°Enough delay. Let¡¯s get started. The drama club is meeting later.¡±

    ¡°Ahh, right, you¡¯re doing Midsummer Night¡¯s Dream.¡±

    ¡°Yep, I¡¯m responsible for the costumes and set design, should be fun.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t confuse it with Midsommar.¡±

    Emma glared at him before gathering a few cleaning supplies and started toward the basement. Rays of light pierced the dim hall, casting a golden glow on the floating dust particles that swirled in the air. What color was her hair? In the vision, it looked dark. Did the sun make it look like polished obsidian?

    Grumbling, he ran his fingers through his mid-length hair. What was wrong with him today? His head was not where it should be. Daydreaming about her hair. Gag!

    He collided with the basement door, heat climbing across his cheeks as he muttered an excuse. Fumbling with the doorknob, he finally got the damn thing open. The air that met them carried the scents of aged leather, moisture, and the distinct smell of antiquity.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Emma flicked on the light, unveiling the stairs that wound down into the core of the home.

    With each step, the chill intensified as they descended into the basement¡¯s embrace, the world above receding. This was his favorite room in the house for that simple reason. It was almost like being transported to another realm.

    The wooden stairs groaned under his feet, echoing his journey into the deep. A breeze danced across his skin as the darkness swallowed the light, leaving only an ember to push back the watching shadows.

    ¡°I can never remember where that damn switch is,¡± Emma muttered as she groped around in the dark.

    With a faint click, the gentle illumination emerged, though the gloom resisted, hiding in crevices. Caleb inhaled the enchanting aroma of herbs and ancient pages. Without magic, this refuge of stone floors, age-old books, and mysterious mixtures was the closest to a witch¡¯s den he could craft.

    With a flash, the raven-haired woman appeared, only to vanish in a blink.

    Caleb exhaled, his breath stirring motes of dust as he gazed around his well-organized sanctuary of magic and must. His fingers trailed along leather tomes so ancient their pages released the incense-like scent of faded ink. Crystals of varying hues and magical alignments glimmered from an oak shelf. Past the celestial globe, he eyed his most recent acquisition¡ªa gaping skull said to whisper secrets if offered blood.

    Not that he ever would. That was begging for trouble.

    The following hours passed in a flurry of motion. They grappled with damaged furniture, organized vials, and reordered shelves. Perhaps the time was going so quickly because he kept imagining her. How powerful her shoulders looked as they moved. The pale fingers gripping the scythe¡¯s shaft.

    Emma presented him with a peculiar vial, her expression twisted in disgust. ¡°What is this?¡±

    He hoped she missed the slight jump her sudden voice caused. ¡°Pickled frog eyes,¡± Caleb answered, knowing full well that was both an unusual answer and specimen. It took time to pickle frog parts correctly.

    ¡°Why would someone want that?¡±

    He laughed. ¡°For visions, predictions, even romantic spells. So the person you desire can see the real you.¡±

    She looked skeptical. ¡°You believe in all this?¡±

    Caleb paused, collecting his thoughts. ¡°It¡¯s not about the literal belief in frog¡¯s eyes or specific concoctions. It¡¯s about embracing the mysteries and wonders of the world, the magic that¡¯s interwoven into our everyday lives.¡±

    ¡°Barf too cheesy, even for a fairy tale.¡±

    ¡°Some might say things like soul mates or love are something out of a fairy tale. But that happens all the time. I¡¯m convinced that love is its own ancient magic. Something created before humanity even walked on the Earth.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re such a romantic. You should go out and find yourself a soul mate. I¡¯d love to have an aunt. Keep your eyes open for a dark-haired enchantress. I bet a mysterious, raven-haired woman would make your head spin!¡±

    He choked and cleared his throat. ¡°Every enigma that defies explanation serves as a testament to how much remains undiscovered. Magic might be present in lovers¡¯ first kiss, in the silence of an empty mall, or even in phenomena that science hasn¡¯t deciphered.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a stupid motivational quote.¡±

    ¡°Did you know that the exact function of the appendix still baffles medical professionals? There¡¯s a mystery for you.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Yep, and that¡¯s just one example. Magic could lurk anywhere, in overlooked or avoided corners. The allure of magic lies in its unpredictability. We cannot predict where power might manifest. It all depends on perspective.¡±

    She smiled, a hint of wonder in her eyes. ¡°I like that idea. Discovering magic. There¡¯s a certain charm in envisioning a hidden layer of reality, waiting to be revealed. That¡¯s probably why Harry Potter did so good.¡±

    ¡°Magic isn¡¯t just about grand spells and elixirs. It¡¯s about recognizing the wonder in the mundane. Historical records show that witches often sought to solve ordinary problems for their rituals.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Yes. They didn¡¯t cast spells to topple mountains or alter celestial bodies. Instead, they focused on healing, protection, fertility, and prosperity. These every day concerns might hold their own inherent magic. Perhaps that¡¯s why ancient witches dedicated their energies to them.¡±

    She leaned closer, her interest evident. ¡°Didn¡¯t you live with a witch for a while?¡±

    ¡°Right after university, I lived with her for a decade. So, yes, I¡¯ve met a few. And they¡¯re as diverse as any group. Some can be harsh, while others are as gentle as a breeze.¡±

    Emma moved to another section of the shelf, her actions more purposeful. ¡°I wish I could meet a witch. Sure would be better than some over hyped YouTuber.¡±

    She turned back to finish dusting the old Shelf. He took care not to break the jar, which held a two-headed snake. Carefully, he slid it aside to access the thick layer of grime behind.

    With the bookshelf complete, Emma stepped back and tossed her rag away. ¡°Finally.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. Let¡¯s address the pentacle.¡±

    Emma sighed. ¡°Is it necessary? It doesn¡¯t fit the decor.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about looks, it¡¯s for safeguarding and grounding. The pentacle represents being prepared.¡±

    ¡°To call forth demons?¡±

    ¡°Not on purpose. But it¡¯s wise to be ready.¡±

    She rolled her eyes again as she scratched at the faded pentacle on the stone ground. Careful not to splash her, he dumped some dish soap on the old paint.

    ¡°Regrettably, this is an unpaid internship¡­¡±

    Before she could complete the thought, a loud crash interrupted her. Metal clashed with metal, scraping and irritating. A gust of wind scraped against the windows, causing the panes to shake.

    Caleb¡¯s gaze snapped up. The hairs on his neck prickled as a familiar power thrummed through the house. The cans rattled violently before stillness returned like the suspended breath before lightning split the sky.

    In the charged void, a voice echoed through the basement, crisp and undeniable. ¡°Do you intend to leave me waiting?¡±

    Caleb grinned, springing up the stairs, books lining the corridor hindered his hurried steps. The floorboards creaked as he darted to the foyer, nearly colliding with the front door before throwing it open. His smile broadened seeing the woman on the doorstep.

    ¡°By the cauldron¡¯s brew, our reunion is long overdue,¡± she remarked.

    ¡°Everlong,¡± Caleb exclaimed, embracing her. ¡°Your presence is a delightful surprise. It feels like forever.¡±

    Everlong showed her age in the deep wrinkles across her face, but her eyes still brimmed with energy. Silver hair flowed down around her, adorned with beads and feathers. She wore flowing and vibrant fabrics, patched together but still complementary.

    She stepped back, her hands on Caleb¡¯s shoulders, examining him. ¡°You¡¯ve matured, young scholar. Yet, that familiar spark remains in your eyes. Your protective spells almost ensnared me. Thankfully, you were skilled enough to mention friends.¡±

    ¡°And you, Everlong, remain as enigmatic and captivating as ever.¡±

    Emma peeked around the corner. ¡°Uncle, who is she?¡±

    Caleb, with his arm around Everlong, responded, ¡°First, my hearth will warm you, my pantry will nourish you, my bed will provide you rest,¡± Caleb offered his hand to Everlong.

    ¡°Thank you, dear.¡± Everlong placed her hand on his.

    ¡°We¡¯ll make introductions in the kitchen,¡± Caleb said.

    Emma nodded and proceeded down the narrow corridor, with Everlong trailing behind. By the time he reached the kitchen, Emma was preparing drinks. He cleared a chair for their guest.

    Everlong settled at the table, observing her surroundings. ¡°This place is a step up from your previous home.¡±

    Caleb laughed. ¡°Indeed. But back then, I¡¯d just left you, and a new American in England. That house was an utter disaster.¡±

    ¡°Thankfully, the roof charm held,¡± Everlong remarked, tasting the juice Emma served. ¡°Thank you, dear.¡±

    Caleb smiled at Emma before gesturing to their guest. ¡°Emma, meet Everlong Winter, a witch from northern Canada.¡±

    Everlong extended a hand adorned with faded tattoos. After a moment, Emma accepted.

    ¡°It¡¯s an honor to meet you,¡± Emma said.

    ¡°It¡¯s wonderful to meet my former apprentice¡¯s kin,¡± Everlong said, her voice reminiscent of rustling leaves. ¡°Let me read you.¡±

    Emma hesitantly placed her hands in Everlong¡¯s weathered grasp.

    After a pause, Everlong began, ¡°You and Caleb share traits¡ªyour thirst for knowledge is unmistakable.¡± She traced Emma¡¯s palm. ¡°Success marks your path, especially in economics.¡±

    ¡°Economics?¡± Emma¡¯s voice held a blend of astonishment and interest.

    Emma¡¯s face brightened. But as she moved to withdraw, Everlong held firm, her tone ominous. ¡°Heed my warning¡ªrefrain from driving at night. Your vision may betray you.¡±

    Emma paled. ¡°Are you serious?¡±

    Everlong¡¯s grasp relaxed. ¡°You can circumvent challenges. Think about self-driving vehicles; they could be your solution. Just be vigilant.¡±

    Caleb, sensing the atmosphere¡¯s intensity, finished his drink. ¡°From Canada¡¯s vastness to the town of Exeter¡ªit¡¯s quite the journey, Everlong. What brings you here?¡±

    Everlong held her glass, the cold moisture imprinting on her fingers. Their eyes met, and another vision over took him. Exactly like the others, it was of the young woman, swinging a scythe.

    Except now he could feel just the faintest flair of heat deep inside his chest. It was unnerving, especially considering Everlong Winter was the witch who revealed that he contained no spark of magic. Those words ended his quest and set him on an alternative path.

    Everlong¡¯s gaze became distant. ¡°Powerful energies from the beginning of existence have turned towards you. Dark forces gather, their sights set on you. But guardian spirits will emerge to shield you from harm.¡±

    Emma gasped, and he could feel her gaze on him. Caleb shivered, her prophecy igniting his curiosity. The part of him that hated mysteries wanted to unravel each word. He thought about his visions. The woman and the magnetic pull she seemed to have over him.

    Emma leaned forward, her eyes wide with both curiosity and apprehension. ¡°What¡¯s coming? Please say it¡¯s a new girlfriend. I¡¯ve tried to get Uncle Caleb back into the dating scene, but he¡¯s resisted. Charlotte really messed things up.¡±

    Caleb glared at her, but Emma only shrugged.

    A fleeting look of concern aged Everlong momentarily. But she regained her composure. ¡°My visions are clouded, veiled by dense fog. Yet, amidst the obscurity, I discern an evil entity¡ªa group with nefarious goals, their core radiating malevolence.¡±

    The air in the room went still, the ambient sounds fading into oblivion. Everlong grabbed his hand. ¡°Your fate stands at a juncture. Entities from history¡¯s depths¡ªPast, Present, and Future¡ªwill vie for you. However, a guardian spirit will emerge, acting as a shield against the looming threat, ensuring your safety.¡±

    This was too much, the visions, Everlong¡¯s warning, the conflicting feelings crashing about.

    Somehow, he got the sense that his peaceful suburban normal life was coming to an abrupt end.

 The Before

    To Styx, meetings were a personal purgatory, tedious affairs to be avoided like the Labor and Delivery unit. However, as the deity overseeing Four Pales security operations, Styx couldn¡¯t always dodge such necessary evils. Thankfully, she had minimized their frequency over the eons, relying instead on informative scroll summaries to preserve her sanity.

    ¡°Another stupid meeting?¡± Valerie slammed her sword down on the table.

    ¡°No weapons on the living wood!¡± Rowan snarled.

    Valerie smirked before leaning it against the chair and settling in her seat. Styx let out a sign and sat down. At least the conference room had an ethereal edge, superior to its mundane counterparts.

    A colossal tree entwined around gleaming metallic windows, allowing sunlight to spill across vine-laden walls. Fruit and foliage adorned every surface, cascading upward in a lush ascent.

    The meeting table extended seamlessly from the tree itself¡ªa flat, divinely shaped branch. Chairs transformed into pliable leaf bunches, whimsical yet functional, offering remarkable coziness. Gone were the stale corporate odors. Only the vibrant scents of life filled the space¡ªpure, verdant, invigorating growth.

    ¡°I see you¡¯ve worn your meeting best, Styx,¡± Sorcha said, sitting next to Valerie.

    It was true Styx had taken extra care to match her surroundings. ¡°Yep, this tunic is woven from petals found in Horai, makes my boobs look great.¡±

    Sorcha leaned closer. ¡°Is that silver along the neckline?¡±

    ¡°It is, from the Mines of Moria. My best purchase if I say so.¡± Styx adjusted the blouse.

    ¡°Was this meeting about discussing clothes?¡± Valerie asked. ¡°Because I got these gauntlets on sale.¡±

    She slammed them down on the table and grinned wildly. Styx glared before Valerie surrendered and slid them onto her wrists.

    ¡°Sorcha,¡± Styx said. ¡°What do the fairies have to say?¡±

    ¡°They have recorded seven disappearances, and demon sightings have increased.¡±

    ¡°On top of the twelve children of the night,¡± Valerie added, adjusting the gauntlets.

    ¡°Three Kitsune have vanished,¡± Rowan chimed in.

    ¡°Five banshees also,¡± Sorcha said.

    ¡°Any leads?¡± Styx asked.

    Sorcha shook her head. ¡°Absolutely none. We¡¯ve already subjected the usual suspects to thorough interrogation.¡±

    Valerie cracked her knuckles. ¡°Very, very thoroughly.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t discover where the demons are hiding, their specific powers, anything,¡± Rowan said. ¡°Nothing. It¡¯s like they appear, kidnap a creature, and vanish.¡±

    Styx twirled the bone fidget toy between her fingers. The cool bone was comforting as she spun it. The parchment before her listed the names of the missing. ¡°And what are the realms doing?¡±

    ¡°Mobilizing,¡± Valerie said, her voice laced with resolve. ¡°Shadow Hunters have been called. They¡¯ll collaborate with each realm and consult us soon.¡±

    ¡°Naturally,¡± Sorcha declared. ¡°We are divine beings.¡±

    Rowan quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Speak for yourselves. You¡¯re gods, I¡¯m cursed, there is a difference.¡±

    With theatrical flair, Sorcha sent tendrils of mist swirling whimsically through the air. ¡°Yet you still have phenomenal cosmic power!¡±

    Valerie snorted and high-fived Sorcha. Styx, however, launched a crumpled piece of parchment in their direction.

    ¡°Let¡¯s focus,¡± she said sharply, tapping her charcoal pen on the table. ¡°We have a big problem on our hands.¡±

    Rowan extracted a bag from her side, her eyes narrowing as the faintest touch of dark purple colored her fingers. With a slow, deliberate movement that felt like a sinister rite, she released its contents onto the table.

    A dozen small bones clattered across the surface with ominous finality. For an instant, the room¡¯s vibrant colors dimmed, and a chill shuddered through the leaves, as if the air itself recoiled from an unsettling omen.

    ¡°This is the beginning,¡± Rowan said, her voice airy as her eyes became bottomless pools of white. ¡°We¡¯ll witness terrible events, and soon.¡± Her words were not mere sounds; they felt gritty, like gravel underfoot, seeming to coat the room in frost. ¡°Death will take a half-form.¡±

    Sorcha let out a sardonic laugh. ¡°That sounds suspicious.¡±

    Styx shuddered at the idea. ¡°It sounds like a perpetual nightmare. Give me the finality of true death any day.¡±

    The magic faded from Rowan and she gestured to a cluster of knuckle bones on the wood. ¡°This indicates a thwarted death, a process interrupted or frozen. Take it as you will.¡±

    Sorcha shrugged. ¡°We should concentrate on protecting Earth. That¡¯s where we are most powerful.¡±

    Valerie tapped on the table. ¡°Crises have a knack for transcending realms. Remember the fool who assassinated Franz Ferdinand? That debacle started in another realm and finished here.¡±

    ¡°I would have thought you¡¯d be all for that, War?¡± Sorcha eyed her.

    Val popped her knuckles. ¡°Personally, I loved it, but it shouldn¡¯t have happened that way. That damn sprite got in and messed with that poor kid¡¯s mind.¡±

    ¡°We need to be vigilant and lend our power where it¡¯s needed,¡± Styx said. ¡°We are still powerful, magical beings. Now let¡¯s talk strategy.¡±

    ##

    Caleb exhaled slowly, a contented grin emerging as tension seeped from his shoulders. Finally, the basement was ready. Nothing thrilled his scholarly soul more than basking in the communion between nib and notebook, uncovering mystical secrets lost to time. With a snort of glee, he settled into his old, faithful armchair, which had witnessed more than any seat should have.

    Spread out before him were the sacred scriptures of his life: fresh notebooks, a kaleidoscope of pens, fuzzy socks, and a bowl of garlic cheese popcorn. Prepared and eager, he was ready.

    With care, he lifted the manuscript that had beckoned to him for years, ¡°The Ephemeral Grimoire: Unveiling the Veiled Realms of the Occult,¡± written by one of his favorite historians.

    He could still remember where he found it, a tiny shop in Seoul. Somehow, a European grimoire ended up in South Korea. The shopkeeper didn¡¯t even recall where he picked it up. Not that he was complaining. He¡¯d gotten a fantastic deal.

    The cover cracked as he eased it open, more excited than words could express. The world ceased to exist, leaving only the rasping symphony of pen on paper, and the whisper of turning pages.

    Busy recording his notes, he moved to turn the page when his fingers brushed against an anomaly¡ªa texture out-of-place amid the well-worn parchment.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    The girl flashed into his mind again. But this vision was brief, only showing him a glimpse before she was yanked away. A shiver pirouetted down his spine. That same heat from earlier simmered just below the surface.

    ¡°A treasure?¡±

    Tucked between the pages was an unexpected scrap of aged vellum. Its edges, worn and golden, seemed kissed by centuries gone by. The parchment felt soft and fragile in his hands. An arcane, musty aroma confirmed its ancient origins.

    ¡°What do we have here?¡± he whispered, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the developing mystery.

    ¡°Should I read it?¡± With bated breath, he unfolded the sheet. It crinkled like a sigh after years of confinement.

    ¡°Should I not?¡±

    Script inked onto its surface flickered almost imperceptibly. He assumed it was the uncertain light or the vellum¡¯s age.

    ¡°I really shouldn¡¯t.¡± With a final minute flair, the lettering settled, and the phrases became visible. ¡°Clamo, meaning to call forth.¡±

    When he read that line aloud, the air prickled his skin. Alarmed, he looked up, expecting to see a specter standing above him. ¡°I have a feeling this is going to be a bad idea.¡±

    Still, the curious scholar inside of him didn¡¯t stop. The next line referred to death, the inked word mortem flashing dark. As that sentence slipped from his lips, the lights dimmed almost imperceptibly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have magic, so there¡¯s no harm!¡± Caleb declared with na?ve confidence, finishing the incantation with an exhilarating mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through his veins. Not even a spark resided within; surely he couldn''t cause any damage.

    Finishing the spell, his voice wavered, giving life to the ancient syllables that hadn¡¯t graced human ears in years¡ªperhaps centuries. It appeared as if the world itself had noted this irrevocable act. As the last word echoed in the basement, he felt the ground beneath him subtly shift.

    ##

    Styx shuffled the papers on the desk. This meeting was useful but lengthy. Valerie was fidgeting, Sorcha¡¯s eyes were drooping, and Rowan kept talking to the tree table.

    ¡°Great work,¡± Styx said, putting her charcoal pen down.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Valerie stretched her arms up, cracking her back and neck in several places. ¡°We still have more questions than answers.¡±

    ¡°And no idea where the demons are,¡± Sorcha added.

    Before Styx said anything else, something inside her changed. An alien magic pulsed intrinsically through her immortal form, ever familiar yet now disturbed. This was different. It was as though an invisible thread, finer than gossamer, but as unbreakable as mithril, wove around her.

    ¡°This¡­¡± She rubbed her chest.

    Prickling tingles with a sinister edge spread across her body, as if her immortal flesh itself was recoiling from a foreign invader. Needles of unease danced along her spine as she rubbed her arms, unable to pinpoint the source of distress.

    Another razor shard of discomfort pierced her core, independent of the enchantments woven into her very essence. This came from without, not within. A sinister magic was surveilling, circling her. But she was Death, and didn¡¯t know what it meant to be prey.

    Did the hunted experience these same sensations?

    It was drawing her nearer to an unknown, yet irresistible, force. It was unsettling, a profound sensation that was impossible to ignore. For an instant, Styx felt a shiver of fate caressing the nape of her neck. A wordless whisper that destiny wove, a grand tapestry in the making.

    ¡°Death,¡± Rowan spoke, locking eyes with her.

    ¡°I know,¡± Styx murmured. Sprouts of her power appeared, probing at the elusive magic that had ensnared her.

    Both Sorcha and Valerie froze, their bodies ridged, as if touched by an invisible, icy hand.

    Sorcha¡¯s eyes, usually dancing with mischievous light, now dilated into wide, moon-like orbs. She raised her thin fingers, an indistinct murmur slipping from her lips as tendrils of mist curled around her wrists, ready to materialize into a spell at a moment¡¯s notice.

    Valerie clenched the pommel of her sword, her wings quivering. Her eyes narrowed, glowing a deeper hue of their usual fiery radiance, as though the essence of some ancient battle ember was reigniting within her.

    For the first time in eons, an unfamiliar urge to flee seized her and overpowered reason. Every cell screamed to escape the unseen threat, an involuntary response born on some primeval plane. Had this been what the trembling rabbit felt moments before the wolf''s jaws clamped down?

    She had only ever been the predator before, never truly understanding the chilling fear that now consumed her. The deafening thud of her heart in her ears, the scent of terror, the quiver of muscle. This dread was new, mortal, and completely unwelcome.

    Her magic stirred, reacting to emotions long forgotten. But she commanded here! Death would not cower, though this dread was new. Even wolves learned to fear her claws.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like it,¡± Styx said, squirming. Her body was now a conflicting torrent of sensations.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t felt something like this in a long time,¡± Rowan said, her voice dreamy and distant.

    Styx rubbed her chest. Unlike the warm, steady glow of her own essence, this new magic was foreign. It was a discordant note spreading outward, sending alien shivers down her spine and tingles to the tips of her fingers.

    Still buried beneath its jarring notes, she detected a faint undertone. A half-spoken promise beckoned from the future, offering secrets yet uncovered.

    Rowan rose and moved toward Styx, dark purple splashing off the ground. She extended, as if trying to palpate the invisible forces at work. ¡°It¡¯s old¡­A Creator¡¯s spell.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Styx whispered. ¡°That¡¯s not possible.¡± Her fists clenched, snapping the charcoal pen snapped in two, the sound a sharp counterpoint to the mounting tension.

    As a being with formidable power, she crafted destinies and wielded control over the elements at her will. She played with the fundamental essence of reality; bound only by ancient laws she couldn¡¯t break.

    She met Rowan¡¯s eyes and searched for something that could provide an alternative explanation. Because the implications of a Creator¡¯s spell, true to its name, could rewrite the very nature of their existence.

    ¡°I can feel its age.¡±

    Styx¡¯s hand flew to her chest, her fingers splayed as if she could contain the wild magic rising inside her.

    ¡°It wants to claim you,¡± Rowan breathed, her words laced with a dread that clawed at the air. ¡°War, Famine.¡±

    Styx struggled to breathe, each inhalation a futile battle against an invisible force that constricted her from within. Her thoughts whirled and fragmented, elusive as autumn leaves carried away by a merciless wind.

    Rowan pointed to a section on the wall behind Styx. ¡°Famine, focus your energies there. War, stand by to ignite the air when I command.¡±

    Valerie¡¯s eyes sparkled as she unsheathed her short sword, the blade singing a siren song of carnage and bloodlust.

    Styx, in her fight for breath, had no space to savor the battle hymn she cherished. Her knuckles whitened around the table¡¯s edge, every inhale a stolen victory.

    Rowan climbed onto the table before Styx, her fingers dancing in arcane gestures as she whispered incantations. With each gesture, more dark purple moved and flowed.

    Her voice quickened, her eyes rolling back until only the whites showed, blinking so rapidly it bordered on frenetic. A pulsating wave of dark power crawled its way across its surface, moving with predatory intent toward Styx.

    ¡°Famine.¡±

    Behind Styx, Sorcha didn¡¯t speak, yet the room¡¯s atmosphere suddenly filled with the stomach-turning aroma of decay. An unsettling blend of decomposing flesh and putrid sustenance.

    Valerie was tense, bouncing on her toes, her poised sword a deadly extension of her hand.

    Rowan continued to chant; the words reached a feverish pitch. She broke open a pouch, spreading fine particles that sizzled when they met the wood.

    Styx clung to the table¡¯s edge as if it were her last anchor in a capsizing world. She felt Famine¡¯s powers corrupting the wall behind her, the wall disintegrating into a repulsive sludge that oozed across the floor.

    And then the air froze, held in a spectral grip. The power in the room rebelled, chaotic and furious, lashing out at the surroundings.

    As the Creator magic spilled across her skin, Styx knew a portal had formed. A whirling vortex, its palette of muted grays and icy blues obscuring whatever truths lay beyond.

    ¡°War!¡± Rowan shouted.

    ¡°By the Creators! Let blood fall!¡± Valerie catapulted herself skyward, her trajectory a perfect arc. Her sword clashed against a gauntlet, releasing a cascade of dazzling sparks, each one snapping and fizzling as it intersected with the magical energies.

    ¡°No,¡± Rowan whispered, a single syllable heavy with impotence and regret.

    Styx understood. There was no turning back. Regardless of the powers Pestilence wielded, or the defiance War and Famine could muster, she was being inexorably drawn away. In that inescapable moment, her truest nature was being irresistibly summoned forth.

    Fear snaked around her chest, an alien sensation after eons of divine certainty. Once forgotten, now the feeling drowned her like a relic resurrected from another lifetime. Her heart raced in a most ungodlike manner; the vulnerability anchored deeper with each frantic beat. This dread weighed her down more heavily than the souls of worlds, too potent even for a deity of immense power to shake off.

    Capturing Death could mean the end of the very concept of mortality. Were such ruinous power now in the grasp of the demons? Another sharp bolt of fear pierced her celestial heart at the possibility.

    The slight, insidious pull had intensified into relentless pressure. This invisible force was not a simple command; it was a suffocating demand that tasted of brimstone and smelled like the acrid burn of a lightning-struck tree.

    It seeped into her very essence, demanding her immediate surrender and her eternal servitude. For a deity of finality, this was an abomination¡ªan affront to her nature.

    ¡°Death,¡± Rowan¡¯s voice, tinged with urgency, hastened to her side.

    ¡°No!¡± Valerie lunged forward.

    ¡°Quick,¡± Famine urged.

    The trio united their immense powers, weaving them into a tangible force. Yet Styx knew, even with their divine potency, they would falter. This magic was a ravenous abyss, swallowing all light, all hope.

    Then she felt her body receding, inching backward as if the fabric of the universe itself was contracting. Valerie¡¯s muscles bulged with celestial strength, every sinew straining. The incantations spilling from Rowan¡¯s lips disintegrated into the oppressive air. Sorcha¡¯s somber energies, too, were futile.

    Styx retreated faster now, the force insatiable, unyielding.

    As Death was pulled back, Rowan stared. Their gaze locked, and her expression conveyed a silent admission of failure in its depths.

    Styx wanted to reach out, to utter words that could relieve the burden of self-blame from Rowan¡¯s shoulders. But her voice remained captive; the very magic pulling her away had shackled her lips. As the force carried her backwards, Rowan¡¯s anguished face offered her a last glimpse in this realm, etched with a blend of regret and sorrow.

    And then, like a dying star, everything dimmed, imploding into darkness. Death became lost.

 Anger & Bonds

    Caleb was freaking out! Not a calm sort of missing keys freak out. Not even like a mysterious call to the boss¡¯s office freak out.

    Caleb. Was. Freaking. OUT.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe this.¡± He rubbed his neck. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I was so stupid. Everlong always warned me to not read strange papers in forgotten manuscripts. What did I do?¡±

    Now he faced the consequences of that decision. This debacle was entirely his fault.

    ¡°Gah, that portal opened in the ceiling, and I screamed like a girl. Then that dainty lady appeared in the center of my pentacle. My pentacle! Then, that blasted dome appeared.¡±

    The woman behind the shimmering red barrier wore a murderous expression that chilled Caleb to the bone. Death¡ªthat¡¯s the word that screamed in his mind at the sight of her twisted snarl.

    He didn¡¯t blame her for wanting to end him. Caleb had forcibly summoned her using that damned spell. Now she was trapped, and guilt choked him.

    Even worse, nothing he did made any difference. The woman continued to scream and rail, but not a sound escaped the mystical prison he¡¯d inadvertently created.

    Caleb turned to leave, but froze, his heart dropping as she reared back, ready to strike the dome.

    ¡°NO!¡± He shouted and lunged forward. ¡°If you have any magic in you¡­¡±

    The barrier clanged from her blow. She recoiled violently, flung backwards, crashing onto the cobblestones. Caleb flinched as her head cracked against the ground. Without sound, the sight was more devastating.

    Guilt flooded him as she writhed, cradling her arm, now blackened with ash. Great, he¡¯d injured a magical creature. But standing around wasn¡¯t helping.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± He rushed about, yanking a vial from his shelf. Nearly falling, he pulled a spice jar from the cabinet. Stumbling, he yanked a dried snakeskin from the table.

    ¡°God damn, I¡¯m so sorry. I can¡¯t believe this happened to me! I always pay my taxes and help old ladies cross the street!!¡±

    Without bothering to mix anything, he hurled the items in his arms. Glass broke with a celestial chime against the spell barrier. Liquids sloshed and fizzled as it struck the dome.

    A vibrant flash of light exploded across the basement. Caleb barely had time to turn his back and shield his eyes before the brilliance seared his eyeballs. When the room once more plunged into its comfortable semi-darkness, Caleb looked.

    ¡°No! It didn¡¯t work?¡± He slumped against his desk. ¡°Think, Caleb. What would Everlong do?¡±

    The woman was sitting up and glaring at him disapprovingly, cradling her injured arm. Even with that strange layer of red between them, he thought her dark hair worked perfectly with her brilliant eyes. Not to mention her adorable nose. Gah, what he would pay to see if it crinkled when she smiled.

    No, he shook his head. There would be no nose crinkles. This could be some terrible soul sucking demon from another realm. Regardless, he had to get her out.

    ¡°Shit.¡± He turned away. ¡°She looks even cuter, scowling.¡±

    Now to more motivation to free her, he skidded back and forth between the dome and his shelves. Sometimes he¡¯d throw everything in his Blendtec before chucking it at that damn spell. Still, nothing worked.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe this.¡± He rubbed his hair. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I was so stupid. Calm down and think.¡±

    It was a good plan until he turned around. The woman, usually as straight as a column, slouched forward.

    ¡°Oh no. Oh, no.¡±

    Then it got worse. As the stranger toppled over like a falling building, a vision overtook him the moment she collided with the ground.

    He was fleeing from an unknown, an alarm screaming as death¡¯s grip tightened around his frantic heart. As they fled, her hand gripped his. She led the way. Her mighty scythe slashed, cutting shadowy beings to nothing.

    Caleb shook his head, slumping into the chair with a groan as the intense vision finally released its grip. His most vivid one yet¡­could the woman¡¯s collapse have triggered it?

    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot.¡± Caleb spun around in his chair only to stop himself. ¡°Stupid twice over.¡±

    He pulled an ink bottle from its resting place and threw it. The little boy inside of him giggled with excitement. He¡¯d always wanted to throw a full ink vial, but the practical adult inside never let him.

    Trails of dark liquid scattered like black meteors as the vessel spiraled through the air. The vessel smashed against the stone floor with a resounding crack, shards exploding outward in a glittering cascade. The inky constellation fractured at his feet.

    ¡°Please.¡± Caleb slid off his chair to watch the black pool and spread over the stones. ¡°Please. Faster!¡± He got down on his knees and blew. ¡°Go. Go!¡±

    Slowly it spread, taking its sweet time to ooze over the white pentacle. Just when he¡¯d lost hope it would work, the dome fizzled and sparked. Flaming dots of crimson shot outward, and he ducked behind his chair as they plunked off the surfaces. With a disappointing sputter, the red snapped out.

    Caleb tripped in his frantic rush to get to her, landing hard on the stone. But he didn¡¯t stop, instead scrambled to her side. ¡°Wake up. God, I hope you don¡¯t kill me.¡±

    Unsure if he could touch her and survive, he lingered for a second. But she looked so sad and pitiful. Lying there on the stones, with no one to hold her. So, it might end him, but he had to help.

    ¡°It is my fault, after all. I should bear some responsibility.¡± Carefully, he eased a lock of hair back to look at her face. Stars, she was pretty.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to touch you. Please don¡¯t kill me.¡± He exhaled shakily, overcome with conflicting emotions as he cradled the mysterious woman¡¯s limp body. When they settled on the cold ground, a strange glowing aura accumulated.

    It was barely evident at first, just a peculiar shimmer in the air. Now, the color and sheen were unmistakable.

    ¡°No, thank you.¡± He batted off the obvious magic and it dissipated. ¡°We don¡¯t need that complication.¡±

    The frantic energy was draining from him, leaving him feeling a little shaky and depressed. ¡°This is all my fault,¡± he said, brushing more hair from her face. Her arm remained blackened, with burns snaking up before disappearing under her singed shirt.

    She nestled in his lap, her head pressed close as he cradled her. All he could do was keep her safe, hold her close against the chill of the basement. As he did, her earthy scent enveloped him¡ªmetal and rain-soaked stone.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    A moan slipped from her lips, the sound sending both shivers of desire and terror through his body. That desire increased when she opened her eyes, and they snapped onto his. Instantly, fire blossomed within them, a holy rage that would petrify. Except he wasn¡¯t frightened. Instead, electricity cascaded across him.

    Then, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

    ¡°What the fuck were you thinking!?¡± she yelled, shoving him backward with a strength belying her frame.

    ¡°Ouch! Damn, that hurt.¡±

    ¡°That hurt! That hurt!¡± She shoved her injured hand into his face. ¡°This hurts! I win. Jesus fucking Christ.¡±

    ¡°Okay, sorry, you win. I surrender. Don¡¯t kill me, please! I haven¡¯t read Doors of Stone yet, and I can¡¯t die before that.¡±

    The woman glowered more, before allowing him to stand.

    He extended his hand, but she didn¡¯t take it. ¡°Hello, I am Caleb Alexander Mitchell, born June 30th, 1980, in Portland, Oregon. I studied Occult Sciences in Oxford, graduated in¡­¡±

    She glared, and he snapped his mouth shut. ¡°I don¡¯t want your fucking biography. The only thing I want to know is why the hell you did this to me. I¡¯d transform and scare the living shit out of you, but I¡¯m low on magic.¡±

    ¡°What kind of magic do you have?¡±

    Not answering him, she made a face and stalked away.

    ¡°Wait, are you going to answer me? I hate unanswered questions. That¡¯s why I can¡¯t watch Unsolved Mysteries.¡±

    She showed him no mercy. Instead walked to a shelf and started looking over vials.

    ¡°Will you at least tell me your name? Because I¡¯ll have to make one up if you don¡¯t.¡±

    That got a reaction, and she turned to glare at him. ¡°I¡¯m not giving you anything.¡±

    ¡°Okay, then I¡¯ll call you Pretty¡­¡±

    Without warning, she was on him. Her slender fingers, deceptively strong, wrapped around his neck as she stared up, eyes ablaze. They were chilly but still held a softness. But he¡¯d seen nothing so tantalizing yet terrifying as those eyes. An electric radiance swirled within, as though bright magic itself glowed from her very soul. Utterly breathtaking.

    ¡°Finish that sentence, Cal, and you¡¯ll spend the next thousand years sitting in purgatory with Jon and Abigail.¡±

    ¡°Jon and Abigail. They don¡¯t sound too bad.¡±

    ¡°She is an eternal complainer. He is a self-absorbed narcissist.¡±

    Caleb shivered. ¡°Okay, no made up names. But it would be easier¡­¡±

    ¡°Styx. My name is Styx. Happy? Now where do you keep your moondust?¡±

    He smiled and pointed to the other side of the basement with his low table and oak shelves. Styx walked off with her arms full of items.

    ¡°What are you doing? I can help. I helped a witch for almost twelve years.¡±

    ¡°She tolerated you for that long? Wow, she must have the patience of a monk.¡±

    ¡°Yes, she is very patient with me. I was a complete noob¡­¡± Styx shoved past him and started browsing the table. ¡°Complete noob. Didn¡¯t know one side of boiled newts¡¯ tongue from another.¡±

    ¡°Cal¡­¡±

    ¡°Caleb.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Caleb, not Cal. Cal is some self-important steel tycoon who is all about extreme wealth and extravagance. I¡¯m Caleb, more grounded, uh, casual approachable guy.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say, Cal,¡± Styx said.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    Ignoring him, she slid onto his desk before shoving all his papers and pencils off.

    ¡°Hey! You can¡¯t treat my things like that.¡± He scooped up the grimoire from the ground.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what spell you¡¯re trying, but hey doesn¡¯t seem to work. So stop repeating it, Cal.¡±

    ¡°Hey!!¡±

    Caleb snapped his mouth shut and looked away. Styx huffed and dumped the contents of the items she¡¯d picked on the table. With a few motions, she chanted some words.

    ¡°I thought you said you didn¡¯t have magic?¡±

    Styx sighed. ¡°I have enough for this, just not to transform.¡±

    ¡°Transform,¡± he perked up. ¡°Sounds like Sailor Moon.¡±

    Styx snorted. ¡°Thanks, we¡¯d be evenly matched, too. Because¡­¡±

    Caleb waited for her to finish the statement, but she turned back to her work. But before he could interrupt again, the fine powders and dust on the counter knit together. Styx continued to chant. The shape solidified, and an image snapped into life.

    Three other faces crowded into the oval, pushing against their neighbor to see better.

    ¡°Death!¡± a voice called out. ¡°What the hell?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll rip his arms off.¡±

    Caleb cringed and held onto himself.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make him think he¡¯s a five-year-old girl who¡¯s obsessed with mushrooms.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll rot his teeth out.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Styx held up her hand. ¡°I¡¯m sure you all have wonderfully horrible things to do. This Cal.¡± She yanked him into the view of the mirror.

    He waved sheepishly and tried not to stare at the bulging muscles of that one lady. She was probably the one who was going to rip his arms off, and he liked his arms.

    ¡°It¡¯s, uh, Caleb.¡±

    ¡°Caleb, you moron!¡± The woman with feathers in her hair shouted.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he nodded. ¡°I agree. I never, ever, ever, should have read that. Never ever. I¡¯m a bad man and deserve punishment.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Styx shoved him away, and he stumbled a few steps before righting himself. ¡°As you can see, I¡¯m fine. I¡¯ll need some food, but then I¡¯ll be back. Don¡¯t bother coming to get me.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? He¡¯s a human. We can slice him into a thousand pieces and knit him together backwards.¡±

    Caleb gasped. That idea sounded very painful.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine,¡± Styx said. ¡°Cal here will generously feed me, and I¡¯ll be back shortly.¡±

    ¡°Better serve you fillet mignon with fairy truffles, and at least two sides. No! Make it three and a drink.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Styx held up a hand. ¡°I need to eat. Talk to you all soon.¡±

    The women complained before the oval wiped clear and everything crumbled into its previous state. Caleb wrung his hands and couldn¡¯t seem to pry his eyes from her.

    ¡°Food. Now.¡±

    ¡°Right, food. We talked about that.¡± He tripped over the bottom stairs before righting himself and jogging up. ¡°Come on up. Don¡¯t knock any stacks over.¡±

    ¡°Stacks?¡±

    He could sense her presence behind him, like a hunter stalking its prey. When she emerged into the hallway, her eyes widened for a moment.

    ¡°Oh. So you¡¯re a scholar then. Explains a lot.¡±

    Caleb grinned. It¡¯s not like she could assume anything else about him. Weird occult basement, grimoires, potion items, and books meant scholar.

    ¡°Here is the kitchen. I¡¯ll make you a sandwich.¡±

    He dug around in the fridge for all the essentials. When he emerged, she sat at his table, digging into his big bag of chili lime popcorn.

    ¡°Those are a favorite. The chili lime flavor is excellent.¡±

    Because he was a sandwich making pro, he slid the plate toward her in no time. She scanned it once before picking it up in her scalded hand. Her nostrils flared before she devoured it in three bites. Wide-eyed, he had no response and could only stare at her.

    ¡°I¡¯m Death baby, I¡¯m very good at devouring.¡±

    Caleb opened and closed his mouth repeatedly before he got the words out. ¡°Death? As in, like dying?¡±

    ¡°Death, one of the four horsewomen of the apocalypse. That was War, Famine, and Pestilence.¡±

    ¡°Uh, oh, um, wow. You, uh.¡± Caleb ran his fingers through his hair. ¡°Death? Why horsewomen? I thought it was horsemen?¡±

    Styx closed her eyes and exhaled. ¡°Sexist dicks.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The dicks who wrote the bible. They didn¡¯t like a woman being more powerful than a man. Since their society was patriarchal, they needed to maintain that. So horsewomen became horsemen.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­horrible.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have Rowan turn you into a 37-year-old, professional, single woman and see if ¡®horrible¡¯ still applies.¡±

    ¡°Just for you, I¡¯m going to write a book about why it should be horsewomen instead of horsemen.¡±

    Styx eyed him for a moment before bursting out laughing. She slapped his back, too forcefully, and laughed harder. Wiping tears from her eyes, she finally brought herself under control.

    ¡°What? I will.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you will, and I¡¯m sure it will sell five copies and you¡¯ll get laughed out of the scientific community.¡±

    Caleb smiled. ¡°I said, I¡¯d write it. I never said I¡¯d publish it.¡±

    Styx laughed again, this time slapping him twice on the back. ¡°You sure are entertaining, Cal.¡±

    ¡°Caleb.¡±

    ¡°Well, the sandwich and popcorn helped. I¡¯m going to head out now.¡±

    ¡°Where?¡±

    ¡°Back to my office, where I never should¡¯ve left.¡± She turned to stare at him.

    He blushed and rubbed his neck. ¡°Sorry again about that. I feel bad.¡±

    ¡°As you should. Do you realize what would have happened if you hadn¡¯t broken the barrier?¡±

    Caleb nodded, but he didn¡¯t want to voice the words. The implications seemed too horrible to say.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do it again.¡±

    He shook his head emphatically. ¡°I will take whatever binding, irrevocable oath you ask.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    She eyed him once before leaving his kitchen, weaving through the house. It was obvious she¡¯d spellbound him, as he couldn¡¯t consider not following her.

    Styx strode across the living room, her sights set on the far wall. Caleb trailed behind, wondering what captured her attention. As they drew nearer, the air began to shimmer and distort.

    A portal snapped into life on his wall, obscuring the faded wallpaper and making the light fixtures clink. Styx paused before it, glancing coyly over her shoulder back at him.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Caleb cried out, panic rising as he realized her intent. ¡°Don¡¯t go!¡±

    But Styx didn¡¯t stop. Within seconds, the swirling grays and blues consumed her. Caleb rushed forward, desperate not to be separated from her. Throwing caution out the door, he jumped.

    The magic repelled him with a powerful shove, sending him sprawling backwards across the floor. He crashed into several towers of books, which collapsed on him.

    Caleb groaned, defeat and anguish washing over him. Styx had disappeared without a trace. She was gone¡­to wherever Death resided. But he wanted to get to know her, talk to her, laugh with her. Watch her devour sandwiches in record time.

    But she was gone, vanished, never to be seen again.

    That idea filled him with such cold and stinging dread. Tears filled his eyes. He didn¡¯t want this to be the last time he saw her.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t even say goodbye.¡±

 Protect the Vulnerable

    Racing through the folds between realms was always invigorating. Not only did Styx enjoy the enticing feel of powerful magic gliding over her body, but it was also pretty. The swirls of color resembled a kaleidoscope more than the normal hues of reality. Bony reveled in the journey, biting at the shifting rainbow and kicking at the folds of magic.

    The vibrant shades glimmered across his ivory bones in dazzling displays. Nearby, Sorcha¡¯s Warg Katsuc scraped at the edges of the portal, causing showers of light. He would lunge to nab stray orbs of energy drifting by.

    Rowan¡¯s bear, Kiyomi, swayed back and forth, causing the ground to ripple beneath it. Sometimes he¡¯d playfully nudge Katsuc, sending more color winding through the portal.

    Though the vibrant hues dancing around them would normally entrance, Styx felt a knot of dread in her stomach, cutting through the joy of traveling the folds. Heavy thoughts were weighing her down.

    Caleb weighed the most. If she could purge his lopsided smile or electric touch, she would. Because it was very distracting.

    Right now, she should concentrate on the alarming message they¡¯d received from Mythhaven. If the sanctuary¡¯s defenses had failed, it could mean catastrophe for Earth.

    Mythhaven was home to scores of rare magical creatures, from pixies to centaurs to werewolves. But beyond that, the sanctuary housed dangerous entities also, if released, would spell disaster for the humans. Its protections had held steadfast for centuries¡ªuntil now.

    ¡°Do we have any more details?¡± Sorcha asked. ¡°Because the Penanggalan lives there. We¡¯ll be battling floating severed heads and trailing entrails for a month.¡±

    Sorcha was correct. Even a few freed creatures could unleash untold chaos and destruction, ravaging the mortal world with their dark power.

    ¡°All we know is Kendal and Silas requested our aid,¡± Styx responded.

    ¡°It was the Spring Equinox last night,¡± Rowan said. ¡°The magical barrier could have failed.¡±

    ¡°Anything could have happened,¡± Valerie added. Typhon swooped high, the tips of his wings carving channels into the surroundings. He exhaled a soft burst of harmless, colorful smoke that swirled as they went faster.

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s the demons?¡± Sorcha asked, her tone quiet and hesitant.

    Styx didn¡¯t want to voice the terrifying possibility aloud, because the demons had the power to wreck that fragile balance.

    ¡°We must be cautious of the creatures, especially if the demons have unleashed them,¡± Styx said.

    ¡°They¡¯re dangerous even to us,¡± Rowan reminded them. ¡°There are powerful witches who reside there, like Trix Strange, who wields the power to undo Creator magic.¡±

    ¡°She can uncreate us?¡± Sorcha¡¯s voice quivered.

    ¡°So that means they can kick our asses,¡± Valerie snorted.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget the Reveler,¡± Styx said. ¡°We are even susceptible to the paralyzing fear of that creature.¡±

    ¡°I experienced the terror of a Reveler once,¡± Valerie said, her tone an icy chill. ¡°The terror was potent and all-encompassing. Within a hundred feet, fear overcame me. I¡¯ve felt nothing like that before¡­or since, and I don¡¯t wish to repeat it.¡±

    Styx exhaled, now even more apprehensive. But her pathetic feelings didn¡¯t matter. All that mattered was protecting the sanctuary and ensuring that it didn¡¯t fall.

    If it fell, creatures like the Drakh would escape, that lethal beast would ravage the world. It feasts on memories of joy, leaving the victim with no recollection of happiness.

    ¡°We are the four horsewomen of the apocalypse,¡± Valerie said. ¡°It is our fate to protect the human realm, and that¡¯s what we¡¯ll do.¡±

    With a flick of Styx¡¯s wrist, a portal opened, and they emerged onto the wooded lane outside the sanctuary.

    A thick grove of ancient trees enveloped them in gnarled limbs and fallen leaves. Sunlight pierced the canopy, illuminating wildflowers blanketing the shimmering, green forest floor. The breeze carried a damp earthiness, hinting at the woods¡¯ eternal embrace.

    With each step of their mounts, the thick carpet of fallen leaves crackled and stirred. It was quiet¡­too quiet.

    ¡°The trees.¡± Rowan held out her hands, a dazed look on her face. ¡°They¡¯re mourning.¡±

    Valerie sat up; hand gripped tight around her sword hilt. ¡°I can hear the remains of blood on the wind.¡±

    ¡°It smells of decay,¡± Sorcha said. ¡°We will find destruction here.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Styx muttered.

    Bony fidgeted under her, tossing his head and stomping. The other mounts were showing their tension, with wide eyes and quivering muscles.

    Mythhaven served as an essential sanctuary for these creatures. If they had to harm innocent beings solely because of the demons¡¯ interference, it would be devastating.

    Styx tried not to think of Caleb. Tried not to think about the horrors he would face if they failed to contain the threat. As a human, he was venerable, very venerable. For some reason, the thought of escorting his soul to the underworld sickened her. But that was ridiculous. He was a pathetic human, after all.

    Mythhaven spread out before them, ravaged nearly beyond recognition. This once ageless sanctuary, where reality and myth blended in harmony, was now a landscape of ruin.

    Sickly sweet smoke hung heavy in the air, emanating from smoldering patches of unnatural blue fire that smoldered in the grass. The grand house that stood sentry over the estate was now a hollowed husk. Several walls were only debris, the frame sagging in several sections, jagged shards of broken glass jutting from empty windows like hungry teeth.

    Past the house, the land showed no reprieve from the destruction. Great furrows were gouged through the earth, looking as though giant claws had raked the land, seeking to disembowel it. The iron tang of spilled blood permeated the silence, mixing with the stench of brimstone and burned flesh.

    Amongst it all, bodies lay motionless in the grass and dirt, their dark shapes a menacing reminder of the events here. Styx stared at each unsettling detail, the full violent force of the attack now evident before them in gruesome detail. Mythhaven had fallen.

    ¡°Alert!¡± Valerie shouted, and they all turned.

    ¡°Moo!¡± Violet, the giant cow, wandered across the ruined yard, wounded, with great drops of red blood splashing off the ground. Her swollen udders were a testament to the disarray. Usually, they would milk her at first light.

    ¡°Kendal!¡± Styx shouted, calming Bony with a pat. ¡°Silas!¡±

    ¡°Styx,¡± a voice choked out.

    Styx was relieved to see Kendal emerging from the house. The caretaker¡¯s long hair was in shambles, with blood flowing from multiple wounds. A dazed, distant expression marked her face.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Styx asked, dismounting.

    With an audible crack, Kendal sat on a porch step. Rowan jumped from Kiyomi¡¯s back and hurried over. Valerie dismounted as well, sending Typhon into the sky to watch. Sorcha slid off Katsuc, going to Kendal¡¯s side.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Valerie asked.

    Kendal didn¡¯t answer, but stared at the ground, unmoving. Blood oozed from a deep gash on her forehead, dripping down her pale face in crimson rivulets. Rips and dark red stains covered her clothes.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Rowan examined a nasty laceration on Kendal¡¯s arm, the torn flesh gaping open in a sickening display. Her breathing came in short, pained gasps when Sorcha laid a gentle hand on her back. Shocked, Kendal¡¯s eyes glazed over, barely tracking her surroundings.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Sorcha asked, her voice filled with concern. ¡°You might be fairy blessed, but beneath it all, you¡¯re human. With all the errant magic around, things could be harder for you.¡±

    Kendal flinched and blinked. ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know. It was fine.¡± She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed her palms against them. ¡°The Spring Equinox was fine. The barrier¡­solid. Creatures were celebrating.¡±

    ¡°It all went downhill,¡± Valerie said, staring off into the distance.

    ¡°A group entered. We thought it was fine,¡± Kendal continued, only to pause and stare at a lifeless body close by. ¡°Stars, it should have been fine!¡±

    ¡°But not this time,¡± Sorcha sighed.

    Kendal winced as Rowan pressed a cloth to the worst of the injuries, attempting to stanch the flow of blood.

    ¡°They¡­¡± She stopped and stared at her trembling, blood-stained hands. ¡°Destruction and death. The mayhem, the intent, was unstoppable. I¡¯ve never seen¡­¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Styx said, eying Rowan.

    With a nod, the druid whispered a few words and applied another bandage to an angry, red wound.

    ¡°Where is Silas?¡± Styx asked.

    Kendal flinched as if struck. ¡°I don¡¯t know. God, I don¡¯t know. He was here, but then¡­They started siphoning off magic.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Styx nearly shouted.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Kendal managed between panicked gulps of air. ¡°I never felt it before. The fairy, she was drained, lifeless.¡± Tears fell.

    ¡°Siphoning?¡± all four Pales said in unison.

    A wave of anxiety washed through Styx. Is this what the demons were doing all along? Siphoning off magical energy? It would explain the dried husks, the hostages. But she couldn¡¯t jump to conclusions. This might be the result of another magical creature gone amok.

    ¡°We have to go look,¡± Valerie said, clutching her sword tighter.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Styx shot a quick glance at Kendal.

    The caretaker was in no position to offer any sort of guidance or support.

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay with Kendal,¡± Sorcha said, taking a bandage from Rowan. ¡°You three continue to investigate.¡±

    As much as they were strongest when together, it made sense to split up. Each of them had unique skills that could be useful in investigating what happened. And it would be wise to have someone remain here in case the shadowy invaders returned.

    ¡°Okay, stay in contact,¡± Styx said.

    Valerie gave Sorcha a quick side hug. ¡°Stay safe, babe.¡±

    With a final glance to ensure Sorcha and Kendal would be all right, Styx joined Valerie and Rowan as they entered the forest around the estate on foot. Because of the dense trees and rocky ground, they wouldn¡¯t be able to take their mounts.

    As the small group pressed deeper into the wilds of the sanctuary, an uneasy silence hung between them. Styx tried to focus on this new ominous development. The possibility that the demons were behind these attacks, siphoning energy from magical creatures. Her thoughts kept returning to the destruction they had left behind¡­and whether they could stop such an enemy before more sanctuaries suffered similar fates.

    Until a different thought appeared, Caleb. Did this mean he was in danger? As a human, he was especially venerable to their potent power. A chilling vision passed across her, Caleb lying lifeless on the stones of his basement.

    ¡°What are you thinking about?¡± Rowan asked.

    Styx startled and smacked her toe on an exposed root.

    ¡°Your energy shifted. It went from being worried to something deeper.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s related to that human,¡± Valerie said. ¡°The ugly one who trapped her. She seemed distracted after.¡±

    Styx turned and glared at Valerie as they pushed through the trees. Valerie grinned and blew her a kiss. Styx narrowed her eyes before turning back.

    ¡°No, it had nothing to do with Cal. I¡¯m worried this is the demon¡¯s fault, and we¡¯re on the edge of discovering what these hostages mean.¡±

    Their conversation dwindled, and soon there was only the sound of crunching leaves and creaking wood.

    ¡°Uh, has anyone else noticed there are no other living things? Not even birds. It¡¯s silent.¡±

    Rowan put a hand on the trunk of a tree. ¡°You¡¯re right. Creatures and animals have abandoned this place. They¡¯re afraid of the shadow men.¡±

    ¡°The demons?¡± Styx asked.

    ¡°Unsure. They¡¯re only talking about shadow men.¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t like it.¡± Valerie withdrew her sword.

    ¡°Neither do I. Let¡¯s go, the Hidden Gazebo is this way.¡± Styx shoved through the branches.

    Without warning, the trees ended, and they were standing on well-manicured grass. The Hidden Gazebo was a pristine example of what a little magic, human muscle, and creatures could accomplish.

    Lush lawn spread around a crystal clear lake. The gazebo was in the center of the lawn, its golden structure sparkling in the early morning sunlight. The metal wove in a mesmerizing pattern to create an ethereal retreat.

    It would have been perfect if it wasn¡¯t for the bodies.

    A dozen burned husks rested scattered across the lawn. Several patches of grass still smoldered, sending light tendrils of smoke into the air.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to speak with the Naiads,¡± Valerie said, sheathing her sword and moving over to the lake.

    Styx clenched her fists, willing the anger to subside. Ruining a place like this was a sacrilege, but even more, she felt like a failure. They should have been here to prevent this massacre.

    Rowan said nothing as she picked a random corpse and sat. Styx watched as the dark purple magic accumulated. It splashed off the ground and rolled around the satyr.

    Styx frowned and moved a few paces away to another individual. A young centaur was unmoving, its body contorted and dried. The flesh was charred and grotesque, with fleshy white bits peeking out from the darkened areas. All the senseless suffering built inside until she was seething with rage.

    ¡°Why haven¡¯t their souls found me? Why haven¡¯t I been called to escort them?¡±

    An eerie wave of unease passed over her, making goosebumps rise and shivers spread. While the requirements for escorting souls differed between humans and creatures, these beings possessed souls. She should have received signals about their deaths. This place felt wrong¡ªdevoid of magic, as if someone had taken it all away, leaving no future. Unable to stop herself, she rubbed her arms, unsettled to her core.

    ¡°We¡¯re ready,¡± Rowan said.

    Valerie stood from the edge of the lake and brushed off the dirt from her knees. ¡°The naiads lost three sisters. The shadow men used some sort of device to enter the water. They¡¯re furious. Screaming for vengeance.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense, they¡¯re used to being the ones inflicting loss, not the other way around,¡± Styx said.

    Rowan sat back, her eyes already white.

    Valerie made a huffing sound. ¡°This part creeps me out the most. I don¡¯t know if I wanna be here.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because the dead should stay dead,¡± Styx said.

    Rowan huffed. ¡°In a perfect world, yes, but we can¡¯t gather any information without talking to a corpse.¡±

    Still, Styx didn¡¯t like it. Valerie muttered and kicked at the ground as she wandered over. Draping an arm around Styx¡¯s shoulder, they waited.

    Rowan blew a fine powder over the satyr and spoke the last words. ¡°Departed one, return to us. Rise again to recall your tale. So that we may learn what darkness descended here.¡±

    The dark purple surged and vanished into the satyr. Styx and Valerie shared a quick glance. This was unnatural, but needed. They had to know what caused this.

    Was it the mayhem of the festival? Or their worst fears?

    A long moment passed, the mangled body of the satyr a mix of blood and ash. With a sickening popping of bone and snapping of muscle, the satyr sat up. The human face was expressionless, with unseeing eyes and drooping features.

    Styx didn¡¯t enjoy speaking to the dead like this.

    ¡°Tell us your tale,¡± Rowan said.

    The satyr didn¡¯t look around or seek the voice¡¯s source. ¡°Figures with black cloaks and hidden faces descended like a plague. It smelled of magic and blood, mixed and tainted by each other. They pulled swords from their bodies and descended.¡±

    ¡°Demons,¡± Valerie whispered.

    ¡°Celebrations turned to mourning. Laughter to tears. Then boiling blue caught. I lost everything I contained, pulled by force. It hurt. I hurt. Only pain remained. Now nothing. Not the meadows or punishment. Nothing.¡±

    The satyr convulsed, its empty body rippling and crunching. With a wave of her hand, Rowan shoved the spirit away.

    Styx¡¯s chest clenched as she imagined the satyr¡¯s torment, trapped between one life and the next. Few fates could match the excruciation of lingering on as a soul unable to move forward. Pulled from the natural cycle of death, doomed to an unnatural stasis. It was a violation she felt to her core.

    She could almost hear the silent screams echoing from some shadowy in-between. Their spirit stretched thin, clinging to existence, when it should be embracing new beginnings ahead. Not cast into endless oblivion. And for what? Attacked for simply celebrating festivals as it had done peacefully lifetimes before?

    The bitterness and wrongness of it left Styx shaken. This satyr, and who knew how many others now, deserved blessings and rebirth after its unjust end. Not¡­this.

    A silence descended on the group, the creaking tree limbs and gentle lapping of the water the only sound.

    ¡°Rowan, can you confirm it was demons?¡± Styx asked.

    Rowan nodded, her face pale. Styx watched as the druid wandered about, sometimes picking up an item from the ground or releasing her power.

    Valerie huffed and walked the perimeter, clutching her sword. Styx didn¡¯t know what to do. How to react. This was supposed to be a sanctuary for the magical creatures that needed protection.

    Instead, it turned into a killing yard. Again, her thoughts drifted to him. Caleb contained no magic, so he had to be safe. The instant she awoke, she knew that to be true. It was one reason she didn¡¯t smite him on the spot.

    If these demons were siphoning off magical power, then he¡¯d be protected¡­right? No, she shook her head. He was a human, a mortal. She was Death. They had no business mixing. Besides, she didn¡¯t even like him. It would be too soon if she never saw him again.

    At least, that¡¯s what she told herself.

    ¡°It was demons,¡± Rowan said, voice barely above a whisper. But to Styx, it rang out like a deafening chorus of the damned, confirming her worst fears.

    For a blink, no one moved, the word hanging toxic in the air around them. Rowan staggered back as if speaking it gave the truth more power to crush her.

    ¡°Demons did this?¡± Valerie¡¯s hoarse words split the silence as she gestured around wildly. ¡°Attacked a sanctuary on our watch?¡±

    Styx dug her nails into her palms, part of her wanting to deny it still, reject the impossible made real. The other Horsewomen looked equally centered.

    ¡°Yes, demons.¡± This time Rowan said it louder, with fiery certainty smothering the previous vulnerability. ¡°They tore through magic and flesh alike with powers I¡¯ve never¡­¡± She faltered just an instant. ¡°We have to warn the other caretakers.¡±

    Rowan stepped towards Styx, mouth already forming the next words. Terrible words to shatter any last delusions of security. To expose truths that could break far more than a tranquil sanctuary.

    ¡°It gets worse,¡± Rowan started, eyes meeting Styx¡¯s. ¡°You see¡­¡±

 Consumed by Death

    Caleb swept a hand through his greasy, disheveled hair, too caught up in his research to care about his knotted appearance. Unsolved mysteries were the bane of his existence, an eternal itch radiating through his bones that demanded scratching. He would stop at nothing to sate his relentless curiosity.

    Evidence of obsession lay strewn about¡ªteetering stacks of books, piles of crumpled notes, the overflowing trash can. An unpleasant smell permeated the dim basement, no doubt his unwashed body odor. But hygiene could wait¡ªanswers were lurking somewhere in these moldy pages.

    After only a brief encounter, the woman had claimed him, body and soul. Styx had speared his heart and left him wanton with mere clipped remarks and guarded expressions. That¡¯s why he¡¯d lost all sense of time and place during his research. Because he had to explain the hold she held over him. Caleb turned the crackling pages, scanning the ancient text for any scrap about his tortured state of mind.

    He¡¯d find no rest with Styx consuming his every thought and invading his dreams, her haunting claim on his heart unrelenting.

    ¡°Uncle?¡±

    Emma¡¯s voice startled him so badly he nearly knocked over his ink pot. Clearing his throat and trying to disguise the complete over reaction, he shuffled items on his desk.

    ¡°Oh, uh, Ladybug, hello.¡±

    ¡°What in the hell? Do you realize what time it is?¡±

    Caleb rubbed his neck. ¡°Uh no. I¡¯ve got no idea. Why? What time is it?¡±

    Emma sighed and straightened up things. ¡°It¡¯s Sunday night. Mom is worried about you, and so am I.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, some pesky unknowns have caught me and I just can¡¯t let them go.¡±

    ¡°It has to do with what happened the other day, right?¡±

    Caleb signed and stretched. His back cracked in several places, the sound echoing through the room.

    ¡°Yes.¡± he pressed his palms into his eyes. ¡°Yes, fuck. She occupies my thoughts constantly.¡±

    Emma sighed and pulled over a stack of boxes before sitting down. ¡°Has this ever happened before?¡±

    ¡°No. Not with anyone. Not even Charlotte. No matter what I do, her face is right there. Floating in my mind. I dream of her at night. I fantasize about her during the day.¡± He let out a sigh. ¡°I wonder what it would be like to hold her hand, to touch her shoulder. I want to see what her hair splayed over my pillow in the morning.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­I¡¯m not sure I believe you. I¡¯ve never seen you this crazy about a woman before. Even when you had a crush on the librarian years ago. You¡¯re a little scary like this.¡±

    A pathetic sort of strangled, gasping rasp escaped him. Because he had gone crazy. Crazy for Death.

    ¡°You have no idea, Ladybug. None. She¡¯s devoured me. Remember that show, where that chick would touch someone and make them her devoted servants? That¡¯s me!¡± He burst out crying.

    ¡°Uncle?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s me!¡± He cried harder. ¡°She¡­confessed¡­me¡­¡±

    ¡°Okay, I think that¡¯s enough for today.¡±

    All his joints hurt something terrible, and he groaned and sniffled as she helped him stand.

    ¡°I kept the paper,¡± he whispered. ¡°I kept the spell that summoned her.¡±

    Emma froze and stared at him. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s smart?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± He cried more. ¡°But I couldn¡¯t help myself. The idea of throwing away my only line to her was unfathomable.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t use it, right?¡±

    Caleb slumped against the desk, the weight of indecision pressing down on him. Repeatedly, his mind cycled through the pros and cons, an unending loop driven by longing.

    The desire to see Styx again had taken root deep in his chest, an exquisite ache no logic could diminish. To watch the light kiss her cheeks once more, hear her musical laugh¡ªthe temptation was almost too much to resist.

    All it would take was repeating those arcane syllables. Speaking those words would summon her. The possibility tantalized him, igniting a reckless hope. But calling her back would be risky, perhaps even dangerous. He had no true understanding of the forces he would be meddling with.

    Caleb closed his eyes. Styx consumed him, leaving no room for reason. She had awakened something. A yearning for her presence overshadowed all else.

    ¡°No.¡± That word was poison to him. Because it meant that unless Styx sought him out, he could never see her. ¡°She was in so much pain, and I can¡¯t subject her to that again. Besides that, I¡¯m sure she¡¯d kill me if I subjected her to that.¡±

    ¡°As she should. If she truly is death, as you mentioned, then the implications go beyond just your act of trapping her.¡±

    Caleb looked at his niece. ¡°When did you get so wise?¡±

    ¡°Duh, media. Nothing good happens when you trap immortal beings. Look at The Sandman.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. I couldn¡¯t try, anyway. There¡¯s no way to know if that spell was a onetime occurrence. Destruction could follow if I tried again. It could call another being, anything.¡±

    ¡°If it were me, I¡¯d burn the page. It would be a disaster if someone else got a hold of it.¡±

    A frightful wave of fear wove up and down his body. In his mind, he could see the thin smoke rising from the old paper. The ink vanishing into nothing as flames devoured everything. Heat singing his fingers as he held onto the last tether to her.

    No. Even if he¡¯d never use it, he had to keep it close. Treasure it. It was the sole reminder he had of her.

    ¡°Probably not. Think of it as insurance.¡±

    Emma snorted. ¡°A man thinking with his pencil.¡±

    Caleb glared at her. ¡°That¡¯s both disgusting and wrong. I¡¯m only thinking about Styx.¡±

    ¡°Sure, because an immortal being desires to be compelled through a portal, incarcerated within a magic dome, and subjected to pain.¡±

    ¡°She might want to see me again,¡± he said in a small voice.

    ¡°That¡¯s debatable, but I¡¯m sure there is no convincing you. Now it¡¯s time to shower.¡±

    He sniffed himself and nearly gagged. ¡°Yeah, I am a little ripe.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have some dinner out when you¡¯re done.¡±

    Exhausted, sore, and irritable, Caleb muttered under his breath as he trudged up the staircase. The towering piles of books that normally brought him comfort now held no appeal, their mysteries already solved and forgotten.

    At his bedroom window, he stared out the window. His neighbor, Patty Johnson, was searching for her lost cat, Tiger¡ªyet another strange happening around town recently.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Ominous events had been escalating: shadowy figures lurking, possessions going missing, pets disappearing. An eerie blue hatchback parked on the corner all day, its lone occupant tracking Caleb¡¯s movements with glowing eyes.

    None of this boded well, especially paired with the unexplained afflictions. Ever since the botched summoning ritual, a simmering heat had bloomed in Caleb''s chest, an unnatural magical energy he hadn¡¯t been able to dispel. Random emotions hit him out of nowhere¡ªirritation, guilt, contentment. One certainty remained: forces were in motion, and a shadowy future approached.

    ¡°I¡¯m losing it,¡± he muttered, rubbing his sternum. But in his gut, he knew these symptoms began when he met her. Styx had awakened something during their brief encounter. Now obsession ruled his thoughts, worry ate at his mind, and longing ached in his heart.

    What was happening in this small town? What did these watchers want? And most of all, would he ever see Styx again? Fear flowed through Caleb¡¯s veins, impossible to ignore.

    With his shower done, the smells of cooking rice and vegetables caught his attention. Wearing soft pajamas, he shuffled into the kitchen.

    Emma gave him a distracted wave as she stirred a pot. ¡°This is ready, but now I know you¡¯re alive, I¡¯ve got to run. The drama club is hosting a viewing of ¡°Much Ado About Nothing¡± at the theater. We¡¯re going in costume.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Caleb perked up. ¡°And who are you going as?¡±

    ¡°Margret.¡± Emma laughed as she bounded up the stairs.

    ¡°What? Margret?¡± He stumbled and fell into a kitchen chair. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Kidding, Uncle. I¡¯m going as a reveler. I¡¯ve got this great mask. It¡¯s lit.¡±

    Caleb rolled his eyes. Lit. Gen Z was such a weird generation. Sometimes he didn¡¯t think they were using the same language.

    ¡°Okay, be safe.¡± He pulled Emma into a hug.

    ¡°I will, don¡¯t worry. I always carry the mace you gave me. Uncle, please don¡¯t hurt yourself. Remember that you¡¯re a human with needs beyond studying, okay?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t stress, Ladybug. This is all fine and good. I¡¯m a weird scholar.¡±

    ¡°Mom and I worry about you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. It¡¯s all fine.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll see you tomorrow then. Please get some sleep. Love you.¡±

    ¡°I love you too, Ladybug. Thanks for your help with dinner and for prying me out of the basement.¡±

    ¡°Yep. Bye.¡±

    He nibbled on the vegetables as she grabbed her bag. With a last glance, Emma vanished into the growing darkness outside. Caleb looked at the full fork before setting it down. Even after that extended study session, his lack of hunger was concerning.

    Leaving the steaming food, he went out onto the front porch to watch the sky. Clouds drifted across the darkening blue, lazy and unconcerned. Insects sang from the tall bushes and shrubs around the covered porch. A frog or two joined the evening chorus. Birds sat on the power lines. Their chirping sounded an awful lot like ladies gossiping. The many cans clinked together in the breeze, joining in with his wind chimes to morph the area from completely nature to more homey.

    He settled deeper into his chair as the sky darkened slightly. Thoughts devoured the hours, and before he knew it, full night descended.

    ¡°Unfortunately, there¡¯s a lot of light pollution here. Leo is brilliant this time of year. You humans sure ruin a lot.¡±

    At first, he thought the shifting shadows were playing tricks on his eyes. But then the darkness coalesced into an achingly familiar form¡­a figure emerging from the night itself to stand just outside his fence.

    Styx.

    Was she really there, mere yards away after invading his every thought and dream? This had to be a hallucination, his sleep-deprived mind finally cracking. Mesmerized, Caleb drank in the sight of her. The way the shadows embraced each curve, the hypnotic glint of moonlight on her clothes, the beckoning arc of her neck as she tilted her head¡­

    ¡°Going to invite me in?¡±

    He lurched out of the chair, tripped and tumbled into the railing. Wood caught him as he hissed with the pain.

    ¡°Calm down, Cal,¡± Styx said. ¡°It¡¯s just me.¡±

    ¡°Just me, she says.¡±

    Eventually, he pulled himself up off the floor. Unable to resist any longer, he jogged down the steps and across the yard.

    ¡°You¡¯re here. My god. You¡¯re here!¡± Caleb slumped against the fence. ¡°She¡¯s here. You¡¯re here!¡±

    ¡°Yes, I think we¡¯ve established that. Can I come in? You¡¯ve done some clever things with these protection spells.¡±

    ¡°Right, yeah. Let me.¡± He unhooked a string of cans, dropping them with a clank to the ground. ¡°Yep, yep. Can¡¯t be too careful. Once I caught a sand sprite, that was interesting.¡±

    ¡°A sand sprite? Lucky you. They infiltrate the cement foundations of homes and create chaos.¡±

    ¡°Everlong, that¡¯s the witch I lived with. She made these for me.¡±

    ¡°Since you don¡¯t have magic of your own,¡± Styx said.

    He rubbed his neck. Hopefully, being without magic wasn¡¯t a deal breaker for her¡­Deal breaker? Who was he kidding? She was a powerful, immortal being, and he was a human. There was no deal. Could be no deal.

    He was joking himself.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not a member of that cool kid¡¯s magic club. Come on, I¡¯ve got chairs.¡±

    She chuckled. ¡°I see that.¡±

    ¡°I also have cushions. They aren¡¯t even that moldy, since I take them in for the winter. I also replace them every two years. Mold, while useful in some spells, isn¡¯t my favorite. Irritates my nose.¡±

    Her eyebrows shot up, and he cleared his throat. ¡°Rambling about mold?¡±

    ¡°Do you want something to kiss¡­I mean, eat? Uh, consume? Devour? Do you need to devour? You can devour me? I¡¯ll volunteer. Is that okay to say? Can I say that? Because I¡¯ll take it back if I can¡¯t say that.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re saying an awful lot without saying anything, Cal.¡± Styx smiled and settled down onto the seat. His insides bubbled up in excitement. She was here! They were together again!

    ¡°Let me get you something! Anything! I¡¯ll even give you my favorite blueberry muffins. I made them earlier. But I¡¯d give the entire bag to you.¡±

    ¡°No thank you, I¡¯ve already devoured enough today.¡±

    He stayed standing, hovering above her. She eyed him once before he realized he was being creepy.

    ¡°Sorry, right, sorry. Sitting down now.¡± He plopped into the chair next to her, perched on the edge like she might command him at any moment. Gag, he was pathetic. Here was waiting for her to give him a command like a puppy. ¡°It¡¯s really nice to see you. I thought I might never see you again, and that made me sad.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m here.¡± She let out a heavy sigh and sank back into the cushions. ¡°No idea.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for a reason to visit me. You¡¯re welcome anytime. Anytime.¡±

    Styx glanced at him before turning away.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, again, you know¡­for trapping you.¡±

    ¡°That sucked. It took a solid day and lots of foul tasting potions from Rowan to fix my arm.¡±

    ¡°Rowan?¡±

    ¡°Pestilence. She is a druid.¡±

    ¡°Oh! A druid? I wonder if she knows Branoc Wildleaf? He makes the best honey potions. See I get¡­¡±

    Her eyebrows shot up, and he snapped his mouth shut. Yeah, he was a goner. Completely whipped.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said. ¡°They probably hang in different circles. Does the scary one still want to rip my arms off?¡±

    Styx laughed, the pure sound doing more to soothe his soul than he wanted to admit. ¡°No, she¡¯s cooled. Now Valerie wants to break every bone.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± His voice squeaked.

    ¡°Valerie, a Valkyrie, was chosen from her sisters to be War. I¡¯m told it was an epic competition. But at the end, the Creators blessed her.¡±

    ¡°Ahh, then there is Famine, right?¡±

    ¡°Sorcha, yeah. She and I were the only ones designed with a specific purpose in mind. Rowan and Valerie were adapted, if I can use that word.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. So you weren¡¯t born?¡±

    ¡°The Creators molded tendrils of shadow, the rich scent of decay, the embryonic essence of new life, and the first mournful sobs of loss to forge my substance. Technically, my birthplace is the void between the living world and the afterlife.¡±

    ¡°That sounds much more exciting than Oregon.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, but it sure made getting a birth certificate hard.¡±

    Caleb blinked, trying to understand why a god would require a birth certificate.

    ¡°Do you think I need that?¡± Styx asked.

    ¡°No.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Obviously not. That¡¯s for us poor mortals.¡±

    ¡°How do you do it?¡±

    ¡°Do what?¡±

    ¡°Not see the stars?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. It¡¯s not something I notice. Usually, I¡¯m sleeping or working at night. I hardly ever sit out here.¡±

    Styx stuck out her lip. ¡°Horrible. Completely horrible.¡±

    Then she snapped her fingers.

    Caleb gasped and choked on his spit as their surroundings dissolved, replaced in a blink by endless inky blackness studded with brilliant stars. He gasped, pulse racing, transfixed by the shimmering tapestry of the cosmos unfolding infinitely in every direction.

    ¡°Better.¡±

    The velvety void embraced him, crisp and calming. He drank in the astonishing sweep of galaxies, like cosmic fireworks frozen in their dance.

    "We''re on the border of the Milky Way galaxy now, taking in one of my favorite constellations, Corvus," Styx replied, her eyes reflecting the dazzling celestial display.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± he whispered, voice hushed with wonder.

    ¡°The god Apollo punished the crow by making it immortal but banned it from daylight. I¡¯m still rather annoyed at him for that.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like he was real.¡±

    Styx snorted. ¡°Of course he is real. Apollo lives in the realm of Olympus. He¡¯s a real douche. Crows are cousins of death. I¡¯m still angry about it.¡±

    Hearing about the unseen corners of the world only enhanced Caleb¡¯s awe. Dizzied and deliciously insignificant, he squeezed Styx¡¯s hand, overflowing with joy.

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± He asked.

    Styx let out a great sigh. ¡°We¡¯ve just learned that Rowan¡¯s clan brought the demons into the world. It was a botched ritual that altered the history of the world.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Caleb was unsure how to respond. "Makes the endless expanse of galaxies feel small and fragile by comparison. Just a tiny decision can alter destiny and change fate.¡±

    And just like that, the brilliant cosmic sea underwent an alteration. Like celestial fireworks, the emergence of brilliant nebulae now hung on the unfelt choices of a select few. The dazzling galaxies were at the whim of fate. Accidents could easily damage the delicate luminous threads of dark matter and elements stretching across the expanse.

    The vast expanse of the known universe teetered precariously between the shimmering hope of prosperity and the looming threat of destruction. The stars themselves seemed to hold their breath, waiting.

    Caleb tore his eyes from the suddenly ominous cosmos to meet Styx¡¯s intense gaze. ¡°Well, at least there¡¯s one thing I don¡¯t have to worry about anymore.¡±

    Styx inclined her head, the ghost of a smirk playing at her lips. ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Whether you¡¯ve forgiven me for the summoning incident,¡± Caleb replied sheepishly.

    At that, Styx shot him a single glance that all at once melted his tension. ¡°Yes, Cal, you¡¯re forgiven.¡±

 Drawn Together

    The world was unraveling, faster than she could stitch it together. Clearly the demons¡¯ bloodlust remained unsated after Mythhaven, for now their savagery reduced the gnomes¡¯ idyllic realm to nothing but smoldering embers.

    The endless deathly silence still etched itself into her mind, echoing the void left behind. All those subterranean places and temples and monuments consumed by those haunting blue flames. The rivers of flawless gems thick with blood and carnage. The gnomes were a peaceful people, thriving on goodwill and love. Now, all that glory was ash.

    Styx hated she couldn¡¯t stop the destruction, the death. Which was a funny feeling. Usually, she embraced death in all its forms. Most days, death was beautiful.

    But the slaughter of the gnomes felt vicious.

    And so here she stood, drenched in the stench of tainted magic, blood, and decay.

    Somehow, she now found herself outside Caleb¡¯s house, picturing those friendly walls reduced to ash like the gnomes¡¯ subterranean grandeur. Or his precious books and scrolls consumed by unnatural flames, as vicious as the ones still echoing through her mind.

    She shouldn¡¯t be here, lingering in the vulnerable dark. Not just because Caleb was a human, venerable and easy to kill. But because if she ended up tainting his innocence with the stench of magic and death still clinging to her... she couldn¡¯t live with herself.

    Holding on to regrets for eternity was a daunting prospect. She¡¯d watched Rowan wilt under hers, and Styx knew she wasn¡¯t strong enough to bear it.

    Still, being this close to him lifted an unseen burden. The dreadful knot in her being was loosening, relaxing, unraveling. If only slightly. Styx wanted to forget these events, if only for a while.

    All those conflicting feelings crashed around her chest. Swirling and churning. Rippling and ricocheting. Tearing her apart in a way that she didn¡¯t know existed.

    Fear exploded. She shouldn¡¯t be here. She shouldn¡¯t be entertaining such thoughts, being so weak. No, her muscles tensed, ready to flee into the night.

    The porch light flared on, casting the yard in a wash of dim yellow. Shadows stretched outward from each blade of grass like gnarled fingers grasping from graves. The bumps and knots of stone and wood swelled into looming mountains, wrapped in darkness¡¯s embrace.

    Frozen half-in-motion, Styx watched the figure emerge from the blackness as if birthed by the night itself. The two worlds collided¡ªlight and dark, life and death, mortal and immortal. But as the figure stepped forward, she sensed no battle between them. Only a tentative meeting. Perhaps even the initial steps of a dance.

    Caleb.

    Their eyes locked, a silent invitation, and acceptance exchanged.

    Without words, he opened the door. Hinges creaked and wood groaned against the floorboards as the entrance yawned open. Rusty metal screeched, silencing the silence.

    Wordlessly, he led the way, and she followed. The kitchen remained cool, illuminated solely by a bar of light emanating from the hallway, casting shadows across the tile floors. Her shoes clicked softly, and the soles of her feet welcomed the chill seeping through. Like a gentleman, he pulled out a chair for her. It scraped against the floor as he drew it back. She exhaled, the knot in her chest loosening slightly as she sank into its padded embrace.

    Styx let out another breath, hoping it didn¡¯t sound ragged and worn. Caleb shuffled around the kitchen before setting a steaming mug of tea in front of her.

    Needing that warmth, she grabbed the cup and clenched it tightly. For a brief second, it was her lifeline to sanity. Then the floodgates opened.

    ¡°I can¡¯t stop the demons,¡± she blurted. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what we do or how we plan. Those bastards are always a step ahead. Which is both frustrating and a bad sign.¡±

    Needing a moment to collect herself, she sipped the tea.

    ¡°I take it things are going badly?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m so afraid that these demons are more powerful than us. In terms of raw strength, we can¡¯t seem to compete with them. If they decided to, they could kill us all.¡±

    Caleb choked on his drink. ¡°Kill? You? Death? Or this you? Are you two different?¡±

    Styx smiled, finally finding some relief. ¡°No, we¡¯re the same person. I¡¯m just a lot more scary and powerful as Death. But it would take the same effort to end Styx as it would Death.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my part in preventing that.¡±

    Styx threw her head back and laughed. ¡°You?¡± She laughed harder. ¡°A puny human? Who lacks even a touch of magic? Ha!¡±

    He puffed out his chest. ¡°I could pull a Lily Potter and sacrificial protection charm...or there are several others I can try. As an example, if we had some time for preparation, I would brew a potion.¡±

    ¡°A potion?¡±

    ¡°Sure, Everlong taught me one with ancient oak acorn, silver threads and shared secrets. That could work. I could also break out my tears of remorse. I don¡¯t have a lot of those, but you¡¯re worth it! If all else fails, I¡¯ll throw my body across yours and shield you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d sacrifice yourself for me?¡±

    Styx watched in the dim light as a splash of red sprouted on his cheeks. The sight of the color dusting his forehead and neck held her in a mesmerized state of fascination.

    ¡°Well, uh, yeah. I, uh, owe you. Yeah, I¡¯m in your debt, so I would.¡±

    She slapped his back, probably too hard because he lurched forward. ¡°Thanks, Cal.¡±

    ¡°Caleb. But you¡¯re not in danger, right?¡±

    She sipped from her mug. ¡°Yes. The rest of the horsewomen and I are in a lot of trouble. Being overpowered as they are, the demons can swoop in and end us. It¡¯s what they did to Mythhaven, to the gnomes.¡±

    Caleb choked on his drink. ¡°Gnomes?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± She swirled her cup. ¡°Cal, it was horrible. And this is coming from someone who loves horrible. Because horrible usually has casualties, and I love a good casualty. But what the demons did to Mythhaven, and the gnomes, was in the ¡®terrible¡¯ horrible category.¡±

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been to Mythhaven once, with Everlong. What did they do?¡±

    ¡°Destroy. The main house suffered heavy damage, and the barn is gone. But they decimated the populations of magical creatures there. Scores are dead, their souls missing. It was a clusterfuck of epic proportions.¡±

    ¡°Is Kendal and Silas okay?¡±

    ¡°Kendal sustained serious injuries. We haven¡¯t found Silas. But Kendal is confident that he¡¯s alive, just missing. But he has a special type of magic. The demons haven¡¯t seemed interested in seeking that type out yet.¡±

    ¡°Damn, that really sucks. Did you say gnomes earlier?¡±

    ¡°They aren¡¯t lawn decorations; gnomes are a real magical creature. They¡¯re essential for good soil and the quality of precious gems. In about a year, you¡¯ll hear about problems with porous stones.

    ¡°They¡¯re one of my favorite creatures. Their home realm is both mountain and field. These vast tracks of land are under these enormous mountain ranges. It¡¯s beautiful. Since they have an infinity over precious gems, they¡¯re everywhere. Even the rivers are gems.¡±

    Styx smiled, remembering the underground cities. ¡°They make lanterns from flawless diamonds. The light just sparkles so brightly it¡¯s captivating. Children would string the flakes of rubies and moonstone across doorways and windows. Everything was always so colorful.¡±

    ¡°Oh no. Are they all dead?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Styx said. ¡°Thankfully, some escaped, but the demons destroyed their home realm. Now, the survivors must start all over.¡±

    Caleb reached out, locking fingers with hers. Her first instinct was to pull away, shout some colorful expletives, and cast a hex or two at him. But she only squeezed tighter.

    ¡°I just.¡± She ran her fingers across his knuckles. Noting the little imperfections here and there. ¡°I have this terrible feeling that I¡¯ll fail. That failure will be the end of Earth and the known magical realms.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯ve kept everything safe all this time.¡±

    She let a small smile touch the edges of her lips. Oh, to be so optimistic.

    ¡°We have, but we also haven¡¯t faced a challenge like this. They have a magic that none of us have seen before. We still don¡¯t know what it is, or how they access it.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t have the Creator¡¯s magic?¡± he set down the half-empty mug.

    ¡°No, they have something older, I think. At least it feels old when they use it. It¡¯s deeper somehow, more...primal? I don¡¯t even know how to describe it.¡±

    She brought her hand up and rolled her fingers. Within seconds, dark wisps sprouted. They splashed and morphed as she moved. Sometimes the color was so dark it could be black, others it held a blue sheen only to blur into deep purple.

    ¡°Creator magic is power, yes. It¡¯s the spark that ignited the stars, the force that breathed life into barren worlds. But this demon magic...it¡¯s warmer, more elemental. Ancient in a way I¡¯ve never encountered.¡±

    Caleb leaned forward. ¡°Really? What are the aftereffects? Have you noticed? Creator magic is unique because they originally formed it from companionship and cooperation. So that leans more towards the positive side of the spectrum. Which is why the effects are generally growth, healing, and that sort of thing.¡±

    Having this type of conversation with a human was startling for Styx. There were plenty of human-like creatures that contained power, and she spoke with them frequently. But speaking of these with a mortal who contained no magic was another thing altogether.

    She shook her head, realizing that he was waiting for an answer. ¡°When they summon it, the magic moves in jagged forms, controlled yet chaotic. It feels constrained by something I can¡¯t identify. But creator magic...it flows easily as sunlight, molding energy with thought and empathy. The demons wield their magic in ways that I¡¯ve never seen or thought possible.¡±

    ¡°That sounds scary. I¡¯d rather not meet a demon.¡±

    Styx snorted. ¡°You¡¯d better hope you never meet one. If a demon can wipe the floor with us, they¡¯d completely demolish you.¡±

    Caleb shivered. ¡°Sounds completely unpleasant.¡±

    ¡°I just hate feeling this way. Part of me expects to be killed by a demon. I can imagine it as clear as day. A strange blue blade sliding into me.¡± She rubbed a fist in the center of her chest.

    Caleb lurched forward and grabbed her hand, pulling it away. He traced small circles on the back of her hand. ¡°Don¡¯t talk like that.¡±

    Another soft smile touched her lips. He was obviously smitten with her. It had been a while since she¡¯d taken a mortal lover.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say things like that to me.¡± He exhaled, his breath shaking.

    As his arms wrapped around her, a feeling she couldn¡¯t describe enveloped her. A wonderful bliss that spread outwards in warm ripples from the spot where they touched.

    It was better than escorting a busload of souls to the underworld or hearing the tortured screams of the guilty echo through stone halls. It was better than tallying the names of the departed, better than bathing her feet in the hot springs of anguish.

    Being hugged by this human¡ªhis arms holding her close, the heat of his body seeping into her own¡ªwas the most profound and pure bliss she had ever experienced.

    That realization should have scared her. It should have jolted her senses and sent her fleeing into the night. But somehow, it had the opposite effect. She pressed herself deeper into Caleb¡¯s embrace, clutching him tighter, wishing she could freeze this moment and live in it for eternity.

    For once, the screams and cries of the dead fell silent. Her duties, her powers, her magic...none of it mattered here. All that existed was Caleb¡¯s arms around her, his hands stroking her back, his breath warm on her neck.

    Styx knew she should pull away, end this uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability. But she couldn¡¯t. Not when being close to him ignited these emotions. Not when he was replacing the horrors she had witnessed with something far more precious.

    So instead, she shut her eyes, breathed him in, and stayed exactly where she was, wishing she never had to let go. He didn¡¯t seem in a hurry to move, either. Styx was oblivious as time slipped by before he withdrew, and she sat up.

    Embarrassed, she set about examining the remaining tea in her mug. It would be at least five solid minutes before she could bring herself to look at him again. Even then, she wasn¡¯t sure if her cheeks would blush like a Christmas tree. Fucking Creators, giving her a humanoid complexion.

    ¡°Listen, I¡¯m glad you stopped by, more than you know, emotional comfort. See, I¡¯ve been on this quest to find answers. I¡¯m almost positive my family is going to have me committed. I¡¯ve been so focused on this research. It¡¯s fun, however, I might publish this in the future.¡±

    It hadn¡¯t been five minutes yet, but she looked up at him. Thankfully, he wasn¡¯t looking at her, but studying the faded tablecloth.

    ¡°Which, don¡¯t get me wrong. I¡¯m totally and completely willing to help you out with. Because I think we could be friends, at least, I hope we could. Granted, I don¡¯t know what we have in common.¡±

    Now he fascinated Styx. Before, she hadn¡¯t had the chance to really study him. To sweep her eyes across each plane of his face. To study the lines of his jaw, the way his warm eyes crinkled subtly at the corners.

    Her gaze traveled over the curves and planes of his face, as if seeing him clearly for the first time. She noted the faint scar through one eyebrow, the tiny mark along his chin that caught the light.

    ¡°Besides popcorn, I know we both like that. Gah, I¡¯m rambling, because I¡¯m nervous. I shouldn¡¯t be, but I am, because I¡¯m not sure how you¡¯ll react.¡±

    Caleb was cute when he got flustered. There was this adorable little wrinkle that appeared between his eyes. It made him look unprepared in a delicious, casual sort of way.

    ¡°I was going to summon you, but I swore I wouldn¡¯t subject you to that again. Because it was horrible for you, and for me. God, that was horrible, but I had news. Have news. I have to tell you.¡±

    When their eyes met, she didn¡¯t know what happened. Sure, his eyes were pretty. But she didn¡¯t expect the electrical buzz that shot between them. It linked them somehow, tethered them together.

    ¡°But I¡¯m unsure how to say it. Like which words to use. How to phrase it without sounding completely insane.¡±

    The words faded away as she studied the alluring movements of his lips. The delicate way they curved around each letter, the mesmerizing cadence of his faint British accent¡ªeverything about his mouth entranced her.

    Even the cadence of his voice seemed richer and more magnetic. She watched, entrances, and his full lips formed words she could barely grasp. All she knew was that their shape and rise and fall was suddenly the most entrancing movement she¡¯d witnesses.

    ¡°Just spit it out, Caleb. Uh. Soul bond. There I said it. Phew, what a relief.¡±

    It was captivating to see how each letter held its own magic when he spoke. But a new danger sprouted. Great, she was thinking about kissing him. Feel how those lips would feel as they pressed against her.

    ¡°I think we¡¯ve, um, created? No, discovered? No, fallen into? Possibly. I think we¡¯ve got a case of a soul bond on our hands.¡±

    Now that the thought of kissing him had consumed her, that was all she could think about. How he would taste. The sounds he¡¯d make. The way their breath would mingle.

    ¡°I¡¯ve done a lot of research on the soul bond. And it fits all the symptoms that I¡¯ve experienced. I don¡¯t know about you...But yeah, I think we¡¯re soul bonded.¡±

    She imagined he was a good kisser with those full lips... ¡°What?¡± she spluttered. ¡°Repeat that.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what symptoms you¡¯ve had.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± The word was harsher than she intended, a little magic leaking out and strengthening it. ¡°The last part.¡±

    ¡°Oh, uh, I think we¡¯re soul bonded.¡±

 The Truth

    Caleb wouldn¡¯t forget her expression. Skeptical disbelief sprinkled with healthy skepticism. It didn¡¯t help that the dim light just barely touched the edges of her. It highlighted the curve of her nose and the plane of her cheek. The faint glow spread across her neck and dipped under her shirt.

    ¡°What the hell are you talking about, Cal?¡±

    He ran a hand through his hair. ¡°I know it sounds batshit bonkers, but I¡¯ve been doing research.¡±

    Styx let out a slow breath and Caleb gulped. This was wreaking havoc on him. Being this close to her without being able to touch her constantly. Everything inside of him was shouting, screaming, crumbling under the exquisite torture of wanting to caress her, hold her, get lost in her and yet being unable to.

    ¡°If you weren¡¯t a scholar, I wouldn¡¯t trust a single word you¡¯ve said¡­¡± she trailed off.

    ¡°Have you had any symptoms?¡± he asked. Both fearing and craving the answer. Because if she said none, everything inside of him would detonate.

    Styx hesitated, her gaze digging into his soul and laying it bare. God, he hoped she could read what his eyes were saying. That he wanted to be close to her. Soul bond or no. He found her interesting, enticing. He found her powerful and captivating.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, ending the torture. ¡°I¡¯ve felt the new power.¡±

    The words were almost too good to be true. Hope that he¡¯d denied himself burst into full display. With stunned excitement, he watched her dig a fist into the ribs above her heart.

    That¡¯s where this new energy had rooted itself, deep in the hollow of his chest. He pictured a delicate thread linking them. Already he felt something deep within whispering that together they would be far greater than apart.

    ¡°It¡¯s hot, but not in a bad way. Like a new star being born. Then there are the flashes of emotion.¡±

    Caleb perked up. When he looked at her, the darkness seemed to wrap around her. Edging in closer, to push away the light. The thin tendrils of shadow hovered just outside of normal comprehension. But they were there.

    Pulling toward her. Worshiping her. Revealing exactly what she was to it.

    And he loved it. Darkness never held any fear for him. Even as a child, he moved through shadowy rooms without pause, never rushing for light switches. Night was gentle. Not something to fear. And Styx proved that.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he nodded, a little too eagerly. ¡°Me too. It¡¯s strange. I¡¯ll feel perfectly contented, then a wave of annoyance or apprehension spills across me.¡±

    Styx slumped back in the chair. ¡°I¡¯m the same. Sometimes I¡¯d feel happy for no reason.¡±

    He grinned. ¡°That¡¯s my fault. It¡¯s been an emotional few days for me. I couldn¡¯t help feeling excited as I learned more.¡±

    She smacked the table. The salt and pepper rattled, and the wood groaned. ¡°Why in the hell would that make you excited?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the fucking god of death. The Grim Reaper. The angel of death. The destroyer. Do you know what I do?¡± her voice was dangerous now. Deep and poignant. Magic and raw power laced it.

    How could he tell her he didn¡¯t care? What words could he use to convey that?

    ¡°Do you know that with a single touch¡­¡± As she spoke, she trailed a single finger up the back of his hand. ¡°I could rip the life from your body?¡±

    As her finger reached his wrist, an icy tingle crept up his arm. A slight tremor shook through him, like a warning from his nerves. An odd numbness spread from her touch, as though his flesh was no longer his own.

    It was just enough to remind him of her power, that she could end him if she wished. But not enough to make him believe she meant true harm.

    When she withdrew her finger, he saw gossamer threads follow before snapping back. His arm went numb, then pins and needles replaced it. Vigorously he shook the limb to restore blood, or life. He wasn¡¯t sure which. Styx only glared more and leaned away.

    ¡°That shouldn¡¯t make you excited.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± he admitted. ¡°In terms of partners, having Death as your companion might be a little risky. But, honestly, I don¡¯t care.¡±

    Styx huffed and crossed her arms.

    ¡°I¡¯m not young anymore.¡± He let out a breath. ¡°I¡¯ve dated a lot of women. All types. No one has captivated me like you have.¡±

    ¡°Duh. Because of the soul bond.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, but from my research, these things don¡¯t happen for no reason.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re correct. This type of magic is rare for beings like myself. The variations happen frequently in the different magical creatures. Werewolves have something very similar called fated mates. There are soulmates, twin flames, fated love, red string of fate.¡±

    ¡°See!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a werewolf, and neither are you. I¡¯m an original deity, created before the first humans appeared. The Creators themselves molded me. I¡¯m incapable of forming a soul bond.¡±

    ¡°Obviously not. Because we have most of the major markers. We both have the new power inside our chest, we share emotion¡­¡±

    ¡°But we don¡¯t have glimpses, the pull, synchronicity, or mirroring. So we obviously don¡¯t have a soul bond.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t help the smile that crept over his face. ¡°We have the pull. Which is why you ended up here today.¡±

    Styx spluttered and glared. ¡°Cal, do you realize how much this can¡¯t happen?¡±

    ¡°Cal might not, but Caleb does.¡±

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t. You¡¯re a human, you have a family, a job. You have a mortgage and grocery lists.¡±

    ¡°So? Those are all benefits. You¡¯ll get a family too, a job is easy to fix, and the mortgage and grocery lists are incidental.¡±

    Styx rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re a human. Therefore, you cannot enter the underworld. Guess where I live? The underworld. I can¡¯t stay in the mortal realm indefinitely. What¡¯s going to happen when I have to escort the soul of someone you love?¡±

    Caleb hadn¡¯t thought about that.

    ¡°Watching as I take their life from them? What happens if they¡¯re not as good as you think, and I torment them for eternity? Will you be okay with that?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡±

    ¡°No, I won¡¯t do it. Cancel it.¡±

    ¡°Uh, I think that¡¯s possible, but it would take some serious magic. From my readings, it will probably hurt, too.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about pain. You know what? Let¡¯s call a friend.¡±

    ¡°Oh! I don¡¯t have a landline, but I can get my cell phone.¡±

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    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid, Cal. Remember, I¡¯m a god?¡±

    ¡°Right, uh, duh, carry on.¡±

    Styx eyed him, and he mimed zipping his lips. When he stayed quiet, faint traces of magic spilled across the air.

    He itched to ask what she was doing. He wanted to know! Was she talking to someone? Was she getting ready to portal away? Did this mean that he was going to have to say goodbye?

    Lurching across the table, he grabbed onto her hand. This way she couldn¡¯t leave without at least saying something to him. She shot him a glare so chilling it could freeze hell, but he only smiled softly.

    ¡°Okay, Rowan is coming.¡±

    ¡°Rowan? Pestilence?! I get to meet another horse lady? Cool! Is she nice? Does she need food? Could I get an autograph? Does she have the same power as you? Emma will be so sad she missed this.¡±

    Styx held up her hand and his mouth snapped shut. ¡°Stars, Cal. You¡¯re like a hyperactive dog, yip, yip. Jesus.¡±

    ¡°But this is so exciting! It¡¯s not every day¡­¡±

    The snap of a portal opening stopped him mid-sentence. Then, just seconds later, a figure was in the hallway. Caleb yelped before remembering this was a welcome visitor.

    He shot to his feet, the chair clattering to the floor. Styx sighed and rubbed her eyes.

    ¡°Rowan, this is Cal. Cal, meet Rowan. She¡¯s a druid born sometime around 250 BC.¡±

    Caleb tripped over his feet as he eagerly darted forward. The druid eyed him warily and stepped back. She wore a long robe, with intricate Celtic patterns woven into the fabric. She¡¯d braided feathers, stones, and beads into her long hair.

    The air around her was crisp and sharp, like standing on a lone mountain peak surrounded by silence and dormant earth. A faint scent of cedar and sage clung to her, remnants of ancient forests and rituals long past.

    While Styx held an aura of thick pressure, like standing next to a lava flow, Rowan was potential and preservation, a vessel of nature¡¯s memory awaiting rebirth.

    ¡°So this is the human scholar,¡± Rowan said. ¡°The one who trapped and hurt you?¡±

    Caleb hung his head in shame. How long would that haunt him?

    ¡°Yes,¡± Styx said, getting up from her chair. ¡°He has a theory that we¡¯ve developed a soul bond. I need you to verify or disprove.¡±

    ¡°I can do that, but I¡¯ll need¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh! I have that,¡± Caleb said in a burst.

    Rowan glared at him. ¡°You don¡¯t know what I need.¡±

    Caleb rubbed his neck. ¡°You¡¯re right, that was rude to interrupt, but considering the spell, I have what you¡¯ll need.¡±

    Rowan¡¯s eyebrows shot up, and she looked between him and Styx. Caleb wrung his hands together, nervous Pestilence would smite him for his insolence.

    ¡°I have blood candles, made from the blood of lovers. I also have several old hand fasting cords and a crystal pendulum.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Rowan said.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Caleb continued. ¡°I also have an ethereal thread, and some ancient runes. Though I¡¯m not sure I have soul centric ones. I think they¡¯re about harvest, childbirth, and taxes. But I haven¡¯t gotten them out in a while, so I might be wrong.¡±

    Rowan fiddled with a feather. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go see what you¡¯ve got.¡±

    Caleb clapped. ¡°Oh, this will be fun! I haven¡¯t had a druid in my basement before. You can tell me where my collection is lacking. Everlong was incredibly strict about the items I keep. You can help me improve it!¡±

    ¡°See what I deal with?¡± Styx asked, her voice dry.

    ¡°What?¡± Caleb blinked.

    ¡°Nothing.¡± Styx waved him off. ¡°The basement? Or should I show her?¡±

    ¡°No, no. I¡¯m fine, cool, collected, composed, uh, stuff. This way!¡± Caleb led them like a general in front of a parade through the house.

    As the group descended into his basement, he could hardly contain himself. This was so exciting! A real-life druid was going to perform a spell. An all-powerful god too, not just a normal druid¡­not that druids were normal.

    ¡°Here we go,¡± Caleb said, flipping on the last light.

    The basement was a little worse for wear after his study binge session. There was still trash lying about and the shelves had lapsed into haphazard status, but at least it was still mostly presentable.

    ¡°Nice,¡± Rowan said. ¡°Very nice. I see you subscribe to the old ways of organization.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I organize everything by type and danger level,¡± Caleb said.

    ¡°That is the only sensible way,¡± Rowan replied, examining the shelves. ¡°I¡¯ve seen amateurs store cursed items haphazardly. Like a witch who kept an ethereal prism by a locket of lost memories¡ªcompletely botched her potions.¡±

    ¡°Idiots!¡± Caleb agreed enthusiastically.

    ¡°Amateurs,¡± Rowan declared.

    ¡°I see you two will get along,¡± Styx said dryly. ¡°Perhaps you two should soul bond.¡±

    Caleb met Rowan¡¯s gaze, but immediately dismissed the idea.

    ¡°Uh.¡± He studied his feet. ¡°No offense, um, please don¡¯t smite me, but, yeah, no. I¡¯m more into her.¡± He pointed at Styx.

    Rowan grinned. ¡°No offense taken. You¡¯re too mortal for me.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s be friends!¡± Caleb jumped up. ¡°Yeah! Friends who talk about potions and spells and share ingredients. Yeah!¡±

    Rowan glared, and Styx snickered.

    ¡°Right. That was too much, my bad.¡±

    ¡°Okay, friend,¡± Rowan said. ¡°Find me those runes. I need to see what you have.¡±

    ¡°Yeah! I can do that! They¡¯re right over here.¡±

    Leading them to a corner of the room, he pointed out a few big crates that were filled with stone runes.

    Caleb dug through one, sifting past runes. ¡°Here¡¯s one complaining about a missing ore shipment, and another about new low credit card rates.¡± He pulled out more stones. ¡°This one mentions a Nigerian prince needing money¡­Here! Oh, no, this is just spam about an extended car warranty.¡±

    Caleb frowned. ¡°Sorry, give me a minute to find the proper ritual runes.¡± He dug deeper into the crate, moving aside the occasional unusual spam stone with a shake of his head. ¡°Ah, here we go. These are more accurate for soul magic. Forgive my cluttered crates. I just can¡¯t seem to throw things away.¡±

    Rowan nodded once before reading through the runes he offered. ¡°These will be good. Do you have anything about uncovering?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I have a crystal of revelation.¡±

    ¡°Excellent¡­¡± Rowan began, but her voice trailed off.

    Dark purple swirled around Rowan¡¯s hands and Caleb tensed, eyes widening. He sensed a wrongness¡ªthis magic moved differently, as if altered by an insidious curse. The vibrant darkness was now a distortion of its former power. A flash of fear filled him before he met Rowan¡¯s distant gaze.

    She had a faraway expression on her face, like she was visiting an old friend. When her hands came up, he knew she was feeling something.

    ¡°There is¡­¡± Rowan stopped. ¡°Something calling me¡­¡±

    ¡°Uh?¡±

    Styx silenced him with a pinch. He smacked his mouth shut and kept it closed. Rowan continued to move around his basement, her hands out, magic splashing off the stone.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Rowan asked. ¡°From the lost moments and forgotten time. From the early days of cloudy uncertainty. We must find it. We must reunite with it.¡±

    ¡°Styx?¡± Caleb whispered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I have never seen her like this.¡±

    Rowan stopped abruptly before the hidden shelves that held his books, journals, and grimoires. Without asking permission, she threw back the heavy tapestry that protected them. He almost told her to be careful, but stopped himself. She was a god after all, she could probably tell which were harmful.

    ¡°Where did you get this?¡± she pulled out a worn leather-bound journal.

    It was one of his favorites, because all the spells, potions, and incantations were useful, and the illustrations were beautiful.

    ¡°I found that in Bulgaria, a little bookshop with a magnificent collection of occult items. The owner was¡­¡±

    His voice trailed off. Dark purple swirled around the book, caressing it, molding around the cover and spine.

    ¡°Sealochrann,¡± Rowan said.

    That word changed everything. The normally dull cover transformed, it was now a beautiful soft lavender. The scratches were gone, and only supple leather remained. It morphed to welcome its long-lost author.

    ¡°It¡¯s yours,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Rowan said, her voice distant. ¡°Yes, it became lost.¡±

    ¡°Then I invite you to reunite.¡±

    Rowan looked up at him, her eyes questioning and bold. ¡°No, it came to you.¡±

    ¡°I insist. Consider it a gift, a symbol of new friendship, of discovery and fate. This journal knew it would find its way back to you, through me. Please accept it. Take your history back.¡±

    Rowan studied him, her eyes becoming glassy for a moment before she blinked the emotion away. ¡°You have made me a little more whole this night. While Sealochrann is rightfully yours, you¡¯ve given it freely. I will not forget this, neither will Sealochrann. Thank you.¡±

    Caleb nodded once. It was his extreme pleasure to reunite an author and book. Rowan shook herself and carefully slid the book into her robes.

    ¡°I¡¯ll gather the rest. You and Styx sit inside the pentagram.¡±

    ¡°Okay! Styx my darling¡­Oh.¡± He paused. ¡°That was a little cringe, wasn¡¯t it? We aren¡¯t at the pet name stage. Sorry!¡±

    Styx rolled her eyes and joined him inside the pentagram. They sat across from each other while Rowan bustled about, preparing items and whispering incantations.

    The light in the basement was just perfect. It allowed him to bask in her radiance and study her. While they had plenty of other things to look at, they only stared at each other.

    With each second that elapsed, he could feel the heat inside simmering. They were meant for each other. They had to be. Why else would Styx be alive for the entire course of human history without finding a soul bond? Only for it to appear with him.

    A bone-deep chill passed over him, but he readily dismissed the discomfort, too consumed studying Styx wreathed in strange energies. The dark forms of ancient runes circled them, carved shadows echoing the power now building.

    Vaporous smoke unfurled, mesmerizing and sinister, then revealing glimpses of the occult runes carved across her pale skin. Her eyes flashed brighter with each foreign word intoned, growing impossibly deeper.

    Primordial forces, awakened by Rowan¡¯s hymn, roused in answer, encircling, and testing the pair. The very atmosphere electrified, recognizing two fated souls crossing mystical thresholds others only dared dream of.

    The billowing displays of unmatched power didn¡¯t matter. What transfixed him was far more profound than any magical spectacle. Because the most perfect glow highlighted Styx.

    Nothing would ever be as beautiful as she was in the dim light, with power caressing her and embracing her. Nothing would ever compare. Nothing could ever compare.

    ¡°Caleb is correct.¡± Rowan¡¯s voice broke the spell that held him captive.

    He looked down and gasped. Thin tendrils of vibrant color connected them both. It started from one and led to the other, creating a brilliant wash of magic.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Styx whispered. ¡°This can¡¯t be good, right? It can¡¯t be good.¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s great!¡± Caleb fist pumped the air.

    Rowan snorted and cleaned up the desk before she froze and looked up.

    ¡°Oh, do I have more of your things?¡± Caleb asked.

    The only reply was Rowan¡¯s magic appearing again. This time it was a torrent, whipping and churning as it splashed across the floor and climbed the walls.

    ¡°Demons have been here. You¡¯re in danger.¡±

 Bound by Fate

    Shock reverberated through Styx. A bone rattling force that left her thoughts scattered like leaves in a tempest. Everything crashed down on her at once. Never did she expect lingering outside of Caleb¡¯s home in the dark would unleash such revelations.

    A soul bond.

    Demon intruders.

    Two unfathomable intersections that now inextricably intertwined their fates through unanticipated forces. Future gave no hint, and she could scarcely wrap her mind around the implications. But fear dominated everything. Rowan¡¯s confirmation of the bond and the newfound knowledge about the demons¡¯ presence. Not just in the general area, but inside of Caleb¡¯s home.

    She cast a side glance at Caleb, now worried that he could perceive her anger. Demons inside his home made her angry beyond words. Beyond reason, really.

    An image crashed unbidden into her mind. An eerie blue blade sliding across his throat as he slept. Red blood soaking the pillow. His face growing pale. His chest movement ceasing. Then his soul would appear before her, calling out to find its eternal rest. Bitter revolt rolled through her at that idea. She didn¡¯t want to escort his soul. Not now. Not ever!

    Caleb froze a few paces away and turned to look at her. No, it didn¡¯t bug her. He was nothing to her. Nothing but a human who summoned her and started the entire problem. If it wasn¡¯t for him, she would be chilling in the underworld, throwing bones to Russ. Instead, she was in the mortal world, stressing! The inconsiderate fool.

    Thank Hades and Hel that he was cute. That made up for a lot. Then again, he was proving to be rather useful. First, with the ability to discover the soul bond initially. Then with the resources that Rowan needed to test for that rare magic.

    She was fortunate this magic hadn¡¯t bonded her to a completely useless hunk of flesh; Caleb had proven his worth thus far. Besides, since they knew it was a soul bond, they could break it.

    But not right now. Rowan was in no state to perform such a delicate and intensive task. The druid wandered the basement, magic seeping into every corner and crevasse.

    ¡°Is she okay?¡± Caleb whispered. ¡°Do I need to get her something? I have a delicious blackcurrant sparkling water.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Styx said. ¡°Leave her alone. You¡¯ll only bug her by interrupting. Here, come sit by me.¡± She patted the seat next to her.

    His eyes lit up like souls glimpsing paradise, shining with joy over their destiny. A smile threatened to crack across her lips. He was rather adorable.

    The bench, being small, barely fit both of them. As a result, they collided, his body pressing against hers. A bolt of desire shot through her. The idea of his hands on her, his lips, his breath¡­ But she didn¡¯t know how to react or what to think. Was this only the soul bond?

    Was magic solely responsible for her feelings? Was the magic so powerful and compelling that it would override her desires and replace it? Because if that was the case, she could never trust her feelings for him.

    Trying to put some distance between them, she leaned forward. Now, at least they weren¡¯t completely smushed together. Before she could say anything else, Rowan spoke a few ancient words. Caleb perked up and looked at her. She waved him off.

    ¡°Uh, would, um. Could you tell me what she said? The unknown is killing me,¡± he whispered.

    As his breath rolled over her exposed skin, she suppressed a shiver. Unable to stop herself, she leaned closer.

    ¡°Basically, she¡¯s cursing the souls of the demons. If they have souls anyway.¡±

    He leaned into her, mirroring her movements. ¡°That¡¯s, um, something, uh¡­wait what was I saying? I got distracted by how great you smell.¡± He blinked a few times and shivered. ¡°Oh, right! That¡¯s good, right? Because then you can really curse them once they die.¡±

    ¡°Yep, she¡¯s marking them for me to find easier. It will be faint, because she¡¯s cursing the remnants of their magic. But I¡¯ll be able to sense the curse when they arrive in the underworld.¡±

    ¡°Can we throw a party when that happens? Please?¡±

    ¡°Why? They¡¯ve done nothing to you.¡±

    He nodded, his hair bouncing with the movement. ¡°They haven¡¯t, but they¡¯ve made your life much harder and therefore when they die it¡¯s something to celebrate.¡±

    Now the smile spread across her lips. She smacked his back, and he lurched forward. ¡°You know, Cal. You¡¯re really sweet!¡±

    He frowned and looked like he might cried. ¡°Does that mean Caleb isn¡¯t sweet? But what if I wanna be sweet?¡±

    Styx was about to chastise him for being stupid, but Rowan spun on her heels and stomped towards them. Caleb snapped his mouth shut.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready to explain why the demons are here,¡± Rowan exhaled.

    ¡°Are you sure? You haven¡¯t been able to discuss what happened,¡± Styx said. ¡°I know it¡¯s been hard, so don¡¯t push yourself.¡±

    Rowan let out another deep breath and sank to the floor. Caleb tensed, but Styx patted his arm. Rowan would be fine sitting on cold stones for a while.

    ¡°I have few memories from before,¡± Rowan began. ¡°Only fleeting glances. I was rather young. But I recall that night, the details, each second, every cracked branch, and blood-soaked blade of grass.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like the opening to a horror movie,¡± he whispered.

    ¡°It is. My clan had been preparing for that ritual for months. I don¡¯t remember the original purpose. Just that it was a unique event. It began innocently enough. The colors were vibrant against the night sky. All the trees and shrubs were gifting their life force.

    ¡°It was incredible to experience. The sheer magnetism of the accumulated power, the cooperation, the rippling words flowing over stone. The only time I experienced similar feelings was¡­¡±

    ¡°When?¡± Caleb asked. ¡°When? I¡¯d love¡­¡±

    Styx smacked him. ¡°Stop interrupting.¡±

    He shut his mouth. Rowan didn¡¯t seem annoyed at the interruption.

    ¡°Then everything changed¡­¡± Her voice trailed off.

    Styx sat tense on the bench, ready to rush to her friend¡¯s aid. Because she recognized that this was the second most terrible thing to happen to the druid.

    ¡°Under the moonless night sky, with the milky white stars as witnesses, a portal manifested amid the stones. I¡¯d never seen one before, and it was beautiful. Vibrant reds and oranges spun around each other.¡±

    ¡°Red and orange?¡± Styx asked. ¡°Portals are blue and gray.¡±

    ¡°Not portals from the abyss,¡± Caleb said. ¡°Since those are so rare and powerful, they¡¯re different colors.¡±

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Styx breathed.

    ¡°I loved it. Then the demons descended with chaos. As a girl, I possessed only a vague comprehension of the situation, but I recognized it as something dire. My clan died around me. The screaming echoed in the night. The smell of blood and fire tainted the air. I thought it couldn¡¯t get worse.¡±

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    ¡°Until it did,¡± Caleb said.

    Rowan kept her eyes down. ¡°A demon approached, his blue blade sizzling and sparking with the blood of my family. I knew he was going to end me, but I didn¡¯t try to escape. He toyed with me, making minor cuts as I cried for my momma.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Styx breathed. ¡°I was aware the demons were evil, but that?¡±

    ¡°When he finished finding his joy, the firelight glinted off his sword as he raised it above me. I was witnessing the end of this life. But I wasn¡¯t sad. The next life would have my family, my clan. So I let it happen.¡±

    ¡°Obviously it didn¡¯t,¡± Caleb said.

    ¡°No, it didn¡¯t. A demon protected me. He stopped the blade before it descended. They shouted angry words and departed. In a swirl of smoke and sparking fire, they were gone. Only a few of us endured that night, and another clan assimilated us shortly afterward.¡±

    ¡°Wow.¡± Caleb rubbed his neck. ¡°Just wow.¡±

    ¡°Rowan, return home. This has opened old wounds and created new. Go, find healing.¡±

    Rowan finally looked up. She gave a single nod before rising. Styx watched her leave, feeling the rumbling power as a portal materialized upstairs.

    ¡°Will she be okay?¡± Caleb asked. ¡°I could send her some calming herbs or a relaxation stone.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    He stood from the bench and paced the room. She fidgeted, knowing that it was fast approaching the time that she needed to leave. But she didn¡¯t want to.

    ¡°Styx.¡±

    She startled, realizing that the slight traces of sadness and despair trapped lingering in the room trapped her. Shaking them off, she stood and eyed him.

    The dim light of the basement had obviously accepted him as their own. It caressed the curve of his shoulder and the lines of his thighs. For a scholar, he had a rather pleasant body. Soft in all the right places.

    ¡°This explains it. Demons. I never would have known, but it makes sense.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± She took a step towards him.

    ¡°The strange occurrences here.¡±

    ¡°Explain.¡± Another step.

    ¡°Little things, missing animals and broken cars. My neighbor has had to replace her car battery three times in the last month. But that¡¯s not all of it.¡±

    ¡°Tell me.¡± Step.

    ¡°At first, I blamed myself for being consumed with research. But strange events kept happening. Books would disappear, pages ripped from journals. Certain crystals darkened with shadows. Sometimes a noxious smell of lemon pepper and copper permeated the house.¡±

    ¡°Demons.¡±

    Fuck, if those evil creatures were inside of his house, messing with his things. What were they after? Were they targeting him because of her?

    If they were, she understood their capabilities. A fragile human stood no chance. A mortal without magic to defend himself was a weak lamb. He didn¡¯t have any thorns to defend or poison to use.

    Fear burst through her body. If she caused this, then she might never forgive herself. Caleb didn¡¯t deserve this. Without thinking, she stepped closer to him. Neither glanced away as they stood paces apart. Styx found herself drawn into the emotion swirling within his eyes. For a suspended moment, only the two of them existed.

    ¡°How does this make you feel?¡± he asked.

    Styx snorted. ¡°Shit, are you a therapist now?¡±

    He shrugged and looked away. But somehow she couldn¡¯t help herself as she took a step closer to him. Without thinking, she reached up and pushed a lock of hair away from his eyes.

    He blinked before a smile crept over his face. ¡°Does that mean you like me?¡±

    She scoffed, shaking her head. ¡°Yes, and no. I¡¯ll admit that I find some of your quirks endearing, but you don¡¯t rank within my top ten favorite people.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Caleb smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll have to work hard to move up in the ranks. Because I think you¡¯re swell!¡±

    ¡°Swell?¡± her brows shot up.

    ¡°Sure! Swell is good. It¡¯s better than decent, but not as good as great.¡±

    She laughed. He had a unique charm, like a child trapped in an adult body but without the annoying habits children often have. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t horrible to be bound to him. It might provide some excellent entertainment.

    ¡°How do you feel about the soul bond?¡±

    When she glanced up at him, it startled her to see how close they¡¯d gotten. Now, instead of being a few paces apart, only a few inches separated them.

    She thought about lying, stringing together a shocking string of words to express how much she hated the idea. If she was forceful enough, then she might convince him to break the bond.

    ¡°How do I feel?¡± she didn¡¯t understand where that come from. The plan all along was to sever any ties between them.

    ¡°Yeah, how do you feel about it?¡±

    He inched closer, and she mirrored the movement. Now they were chest to chest. She could feel the warmth from him soaking into her. It eased the rough patches of her being, making it easier to breathe.

    ¡°I¡­¡± She stopped, unsure of the truth, unsure what to said.

    ¡°I¡¯m torn.¡± His voice was a whisper now. ¡°It¡¯s scary, thinking how this magic could be affecting what I feel. Creator magic is so powerful, I worry I can¡¯t trust what I¡¯m feeling.¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m nervous to believe anything because I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s coming from me, or the soul bond. What I feel for you can¡¯t be true, because it¡¯s tainted by magic.¡±

    He nodded, and she watched in stunned appreciation as the movement caused his hair to frame his face perfectly. Something in his eyes compelled her to forsake everything. Then she could stare into his eyes forever. Get lost in the abyss that held such inquisitive wonder and joy.

    ¡°Are we doomed?¡±

    The puff of air from his words touched her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. Were they doomed? Was this relationship going to fail because the Creators crafted it from magic? Did they have no future because they had no past?

    ¡°No.¡± She startled herself with that answer. She didn¡¯t want to be doomed from the start. Because deep inside, she was lonely. Drifting from one partner to the other. Moving from one bed to the next. She wanted a genuine connection. A companion to understand her. Perhaps that was the purpose of the soul bond. To give her the one thing that she¡¯d never had.

    ¡°No. We¡¯re not doomed,¡± she stated firmly. ¡°This bond between us is hopeful, though fragile.¡±

    ¡°Good, because I found you captivating even before the dome collapsed and I touched you for the first time.¡±

    Heat bloomed within her as his eyes seared into her, more intoxicating than the sharpest cries of the damned. No magic could fake such fathomless vulnerability and affection as she witnessed battling behind that heady gaze.

    Her hands trembled faintly; whether with nerves or reckless longing, she hardly knew. The scant distance between them evaporated, and his tongue traced across his lower lip. That delicate motion shattered any fragile restraint remaining.

    Styx¡¯s breathing became shallow, lashes fluttering half-closed as her attention fixed on Caleb¡¯s mouth. Its shape, the cupid¡¯s bow curve, the slightest quirk at one corner taunted her. She swallowed hard. How would those lips feel capturing hers?

    She swayed ever nearer, his warm breath feathering her cheek, their noses nearly brushing. The charged air enveloping them transcended the musty basement. In this suspended instant, nothing else existed but the promise of his kiss¡­

    ¡°Uncle!¡±

    Caleb lurched back and cleared his throat. Styx knew her cheeks were bright red. But the girl bounding down the stairs served as a distraction.

    ¡°Ladybug!¡± He cast a last look at her before turning. ¡°Come and meet my new friend.¡±

    ¡°You made a friend? Are they alive?¡±

    Styx burst into laughter. The teenager stepped off the stairs and shot a glance at Styx. Caleb and the girl obviously had a family connection. They shared the same hair color and lighthearted expression. Styx would bet a hoard of dead man¡¯s gold that they¡¯d share a similarly structured soul. With a flash of inspiration, Styx realized she could learn a lot about who Caleb was from her.

    ¡°Emma.¡± Caleb exhaled. ¡°I have plenty of alive friends. Remember the BBQ I had last year?¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± Emma said. ¡°Several people said they were only there for free food and only vaguely recognized you from work.¡±

    Styx snickered, and Caleb looked a little crestfallen. ¡°Well, then I guess you don¡¯t want to meet her.¡±

    ¡°No! No,¡± Emma said. ¡°I¡¯m just messing with you. Introduce me.¡±

    ¡°Emma, this is Styx. Styx, this is my niece, Emma. She¡¯s my intern.¡±

    ¡°OMG! You¡¯re Styx, that means you¡¯re Death! So cool!¡± Emma jumped up and down.

    Styx grinned, so the childlike enthusiasm was obviously genetic because no other self-respecting teenage girl would act like that.

    ¡°Hello,¡± Styx said.

    ¡°Omg, and your outfit is so cute!¡± Emma rushed up to look closer.

    ¡°Thanks. This tunic was made from spun Valkyrie feathers.¡±

    ¡°No wonder it¡¯s so pretty, and you¡¯re so pretty! Oh, oh! Show me Death, please?¡±

    Styx wanted to refuse, but what the hell. ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes!!¡± Emma clapped.

    Perhaps this was a good idea. Caleb still hadn¡¯t seen her Death persona, and maybe the sight of her would send him packing. Then she could cancel the bond with no guilt.

    ¡°Sure, just don¡¯t freak too much. If you die from fear, I¡¯ll have to take your soul.¡±

    ¡°Your soul is mine,¡± Emma said in a deep voice before bursting into laughter.

    Eying them both a last time, she prepared herself. With authority, Styx raised her hand, magic cascading over her. Shadows swirled, reality shifted, and she vanished as Death took form.

    An inky cloak draped around her consuming light. Dark tendrils emanated spectral power. Her scythe materialized, carved with intricate soul etchings, its blade vibrating.

    Rising to her full imposing height, Death stood before them, hopelessness and despair leaking from her presence. But if Caleb couldn¡¯t accept this form, he didn¡¯t deserve her.

    ¡°Wow!¡± Emma¡¯s mouth dropped open. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s so cool! Do you go out during Halloween? Please say you do.¡±

    ¡°I do, actually.¡±

    ¡°Oh cool! Your voice is deeper too. That¡¯s rad. So rad. Can you touch me?¡±

    ¡°No, that would end your life, strip your soul, and your body would be a husk.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Caleb said. ¡°No touchy, touchy. Uh, would it be, um, weird? Like totally weird, uh, to say that I find you strangely attractive like this? Because I am, I mean, do. It¡¯s sort of a turn on.¡±

    ¡°Eww,¡± Emma hissed and smacked him. ¡°Ewww. Please don¡¯t ever say that again.¡±

    A wave of relief filled her body. Caleb accepted her as both Death and Styx. Somehow he¡¯d seen her as both, which was critical if their relationship was going to survive.

    Did this mean that they could develop a lasting relationship?

 Unsettling Visions

    Glass was sure a fascinating invention. Wait, could glass be called an invention? Obviously, someone, somewhere, discovered that melting sand, soda ash, and limestone resulted in it. But did that qualify as invented? Or was it stumbled upon, like Penicillin or Velcro?

    Caleb huffed out a breath that fogged the window he peered out of. What had he become? He NEVER stared out of windows, sighing like a lost puppy. But he just couldn¡¯t concentrate on books, writing, on making potions, or organizing runes. It was a strange and disconcerting feeling.

    He wanted to see her again. Talk to her about stupid things. Lean together as they laughed and joked. In fact, he''d been compiling questions in anticipation of their next meeting.

    The most pressing being is the underwear of the deceased haunting their old drawers? Perhaps that was the actual cause of lost socks. The fear of underwear ghosts made them flee in terror.

    He snorted, imagining underwear ghosts chasing a sock.

    Then he¡¯d move on to the less important questions, like which souls would she invite to a dinner party for maximum chaos? Afterwards, they could discuss her favorite underworld band and foods.

    He might never ask a few things, such as her loneliest moment as an immortal, or if she regretted punishing any souls. Those seemed a little too deep for this budding relationship. But, perhaps eventually, they¡¯d learn everything there was about each other.

    ¡°When we finished talking, we could watch the history channel together.¡± He let out a breath and wrote her name inside of a heart onto the foggy glass.

    ¡°That would be so great. Le sigh. We could accidentally knee touch! She could correct all the things historians got wrong. God, that would be such fun.¡±

    He continued to trace patterns in the window, the cold biting into his finger

    ¡°She could tell me how and why the Library of Alexandria burned. Or¡­or¡­the real purpose behind Stonehenge, or the Easter Island statues. Fuck, the list is endless!¡±

    He frantically grabbed at the paper and pen in his pocket. With shaking hands, he scribbled the new questions under the old ones. Now, asking about underworld bands sounded trivial. Instead, an in-depth discussion on William Harvey¡¯s habits and personality seemed much more interesting.

    ¡°Awwww! I¡¯m so pitiful! Such a pathetic husk of a man!¡± Caleb lamented overly dramatically. ¡°Is she thinking about me? Does she care about me!? Does she hate me!?¡±

    She was, but he couldn¡¯t know that, so he didn¡¯t.

    ¡°But I want to be close to her.¡± Because he was turning into a broken record, he sighed again.

    He slumped forward and pressed his forehead to the glass. The cold zapped his skin, and for a second, he thought about something other than Styx. But once the sudden temperature shock was over, his mind returned to her.

    ¡°I bet she looks great in the dim light of a huge thunderstorm. The ominous shadows of storm clouds rolling over her.¡±

    But before he could imagine her, his entire world shifted. Instead of staring out into his yard, a vision ensnared him.

    Panic constricted his airway as primal fear overwhelmed rational thought. He was prey¡ªhunted for twisted amusement by forces unseen but closing in. Mad cackles echoed from endless shadows as he staggered into a building¡¯s rough brick facade, its jagged grain abrading his cheek.

    From the corners of his vision danced obscured figures just out of sight, ever shifting, swirling like wolves toying with their next meal. He whimpered as their menacing shapes flowed by, so achingly close but never quite within view. Chest heaving with strangling dread, he understood the horrors that awaited should they drag him into thrashing darkness.

    When he dared gaze up again, relief washed over him spying the familiar schoolyard. But reality warped sickeningly as he took in the innocent faces surrounding him. The name engraved above the entrance...Emma¡¯s school.

    At once, the implications of finding refuge there crashed over him with hellish certainty. The hunt had turned toward piercingly vulnerable prey. And he was the bloodstained trail leading ruthless evil to her door¡­

    Emma!

    Emma was in trouble. Caleb thrashed against the confines of the vision. Struggled to break the borders that held him. Thrashed to be free.

    If something happened to her, his world would come crashing down. Not just because of losing Emma, but also because of Styx. He knew that escorting Emma¡¯s soul would make her downright depressed.

    Then, with a snap, he returned to his living room, his face pressed against the window. He lurched back, toppling from the chair and landing in a heap on the floor. All the oxygen seemed to have left his lungs as he struggled to suck in enough air.

    ¡°Emma!¡±

    Fumbling several times, his clammy hands finally latched around his cellphone. He swore as he grappled with the touchscreen before he heard ringing. Each second stretched horribly, elongating to the obscene, lasting forever, until her voice was there, breaking the spell.

    ¡°Uncle C. What¡¯s up?¡± Emma¡¯s voice was chipper and unconcerned.

    ¡°Emma! Emma! God, are you okay? Please, are you okay?¡±

    Emma only laughed. ¡°What? I¡¯m perfectly peachy, just got out of school. And I met with Mrs. Diana, she¡¯s signed me up for an advanced economics class. I¡¯m super excited.¡±

    With each word she spoke, a little of the tightness broke. But he wouldn¡¯t find complete satisfaction until she returned home or arrived here.

    ¡°Is everything okay? Are you being followed? Is someone following you?¡±

    ¡°Uh, are you okay? You didn¡¯t do too much weed, right? That stuff makes you way paranoid.¡±

    He blew a lock of hair from in front of his eyes. ¡°No, I¡¯m completely sober. I just had a terrible vision. You were being stalked.¡±

    ¡°Vision? I thought they were all about the girl with the scythe¡­Wait! Do you think that was Styx?¡±

    He startled. Fuck, why hadn¡¯t he connected the dots himself? There were only so many scythe-wielding ladies around. Unless there was a big underground group of them. No, he shook his head.

    ¡°That¡¯s not important right now. Listen, I need you to be really thorough. Make sure you aren¡¯t being followed.¡±

    ¡°Jesus, you and your paranoia.¡±

    ¡°Please, indulge me.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay, hold your scrolls.¡±

    Caleb fidgeted with a pen, swirling it over his fingers and back again. His worst fears would be realized if she returned with a startled gasp or scream. Stronger anxiety blossomed at the thought, because he was at least fifteen minutes away. It would be too late to rescue her.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Sorry to disappoint. I don¡¯t see a single thing or person who would be slightly suspicious or dangerous. Except Brian M. He¡¯s so good looking, it¡¯s dangerous! I¡¯d love to swap some spit¡­¡±

    ¡°Emma Louise Mitchell!¡±

    ¡°Truth, uncle, truth. But you can calm down now. I see no danger.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay, deep breath.¡± He sucked in through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. ¡°Okay. Do you have the protective amulet that I gave you?¡±

    ¡°I do! Never leave home without it, because you¡¯re paranoid. I didn¡¯t want to risk you showing up again in your scholar robes and hat to drop it off like you did that one day. Everyone teased me for a month until Whitney dropped Britney during cheer practice.¡±

    ¡°Go home now, do not pass Go, do not collect $300. Go.¡±

    ¡°I can tell this has freaked you out, and I love you care about me so much...but no.¡±

    ¡°No?¡±

    ¡°No, I have drama club this afternoon, remember? I can¡¯t miss it. We¡¯re planning the costumes for A Midsummers Night Dream.¡±

    ¡°Fuck.¡± He pulled a hand through his hair. ¡°Fuck. Well, just be careful, okay? Get someone to walk you home. I don¡¯t want you to be left alone. Got it? Promise me.¡±

    ¡°Jesus, yeah, I got it. Not alone, straight home. Go take a chill pill or something.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, okay, be safe. Call me when you¡¯re done.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and right after, I¡¯ll call your shrink. See ya!!¡±

    Caleb stared at the darkened phone screen long after Emma hung up, willing it to remain free of any dire updates. His hands continued trembling, the gnawing disquiet in his gut unabated. Emma claimed she was fine, oblivious to any danger, but his instincts screamed otherwise.

    He couldn¡¯t shake the chilling vision, its ominous portent still clawing at his mind. Rubbing his chest, he choked back the panic rising like bile.

    ¡°I wish Styx was here,¡± he whispered wistfully.

    A knock at the door startled him, body jolting in frightened surprise. But before he could stumble to his feet, Styx strode in.

    ¡°Styx!¡± Caleb cried out in relief, the single word conveying a thousand unspoken fears. His legs wobbled as he rocketed up from the floor, barely noticing the sting of his knees slamming against the hard surface in his desperation to reach her.

    Throwing himself into her arms, the solid reassurance of her presence nearly brought him to tears. Clinging tight, he soaked up her strength and warmth, allowing himself a momentary respite from the dread still lurking at the edges of his mind. Caleb pressed his head into the crook of her neck, trying not to cry.

    The chuckle from her chest rippled through his and he let a tiny shred of hope blossom. If something went wrong with Emma, Styx was here to help save her.

    ¡°Okay,¡± she said, shoving him backwards. ¡°That¡¯s enough for now. You better calm down or I¡¯ll sever your soul.¡±

    He sniffled some before backing off and slumping back into his seat. ¡°Thank god¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank him,¡± Styx said with a grin. ¡°God doesn¡¯t actually exist. If you¡¯re going to thank anyone, thank the Creators. They¡¯re the true god of this world.¡±

    ¡°Right, right. Thank the Creators you¡¯re here. I just had the worst vision, and it¡¯s making me paranoid. I don¡¯t know what to do or how to fix it!¡±

    ¡°A vision? But you don¡¯t have magic.¡± Styx moved the extra plush Sherpa blanket from the couch beside him and sat down.

    She seemed to be made to tuck perfectly against him, effortlessly aligning her slight frame with each dip and curve along his side. For these few seconds, everything was perfect.

    The warmth of her arm as it nudged close sent shivers cascading through his chest. Even the slight scent of ash and cloves clinging to her was immensely comforting. It was intoxicating and invigorating. A contented sigh escaped him as she snuggled closer. Yeah, he could get used to this.

    The anxiety that had been clawing at him eased slightly. With her by his side, they could accomplish miracles. That meant if Emma was in danger, together, they could save her.

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me. They started about a month ago. Typically, they were me, but this one was about Emma.¡±

    ¡°Tell me everything.¡±

    The idea of voicing those words and feelings made the ball of anxiety tighten up again. He didn¡¯t want to recount the abhorrent, ghastly, and vulgar vision, but if anyone needed to know it, Styx did. So, struggling to hide his mortal fear, he regurgitated the vision in all its painful details.

    Afraid of the repercussions, he spoke quickly, trying to shove the feelings of hopelessness and guilt down. After, he felt equal parts better and worse. But at least she was here. Either from pity or something else. She took his hand and squeezed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Cal. Everything will be fine. I¡¯m here now, and I won¡¯t leave until you get word Emma is safe at home.¡±

    He perked up. ¡°Really? You¡¯d do that for me?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°Why not?¡±

    Caleb slumped forward, super-duper relieved. ¡°Thank you. Hopefully, she¡¯ll be safe at home soon. But not too soon.¡± He winked at her. ¡°In the meantime, can I interest you in some refreshments? Then the entertainment!¡±

    ¡°Depends. What do you have? And what qualifies as entertainment?¡±

    Caleb smiled wider and leaned toward her. ¡°I was thinking about showing you my grimoire and sacred text collection.¡±

    Styx giggled. ¡°You sure know how to entertain a girl.¡±

    Caleb beamed at the praise. ¡°I knew it! Every magical being I¡¯ve shared my collection with found it entertaining.¡±

    She froze and glared at him. ¡°Every magical being? Do you have a revolving door of immortal gods?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°No! No! Not at all. You and Rowan are the only gods I¡¯ve had the pleasure of hosting.¡± He started counting on his fingers. ¡°Everlong, Astrid, Elowen, oh and Stormshroud. He really liked the Shinto texts.¡±

    Styx eyed him for a moment before relenting. ¡°Good. I¡¯m the only immortal god that gets to see anything of yours.¡±

    That was totally 100%, completely, utterly, wholly fine with him. Because that meant they were exclusive¡­or did it?

    ¡°Uh, does this mean we¡¯re a real couple now?¡± he asked, perking up.

    She froze and glanced over at him. ¡°Nope, we haven¡¯t known each other long enough to be a couple.¡±

    ¡°How long will that take?¡±

    ¡°Fifty years, at least.¡±

    She was joking, right? He¡¯d be close to a hundred if that was the case. But then again, she was worth it.

    ¡°Okay! I¡¯ll wait for you. Just don¡¯t be too repulsed when you see my wrinkly old balls.¡±

    She elbowed him. ¡°I won¡¯t be. I guarantee I¡¯ve seen older.¡±

    They laughed together as he pulled her up and held her hand, walking to the kitchen.

    ¡°I have blueberry muffins, but they could be paranoia inducing, so you might think about refusing. But I also have some earl gray tea, and figs.¡±

    ¡°Figs! I love figs! Love, love. Tasting dead female wasp is so delicious.¡±

    Caleb laughed. ¡°Yeah, I see how they would appeal to you. I got these from a local farmer, so be assured they have dead stuff inside.¡±

    ¡°Yes! Score!¡±

    Caleb sat her at the table and prepared everything. It took him more time than it should have. He kept stealing glances at her. Someone must have tailored whatever outfit she was wearing for her.

    The subtle forest green fabric matched her skin and make it glow. Even the dark trousers clung to her deliciously. He had to muster some serious effort to concentrate and not fall at her feet in worship.

    But, finally, he presented her with a delectable spread. Fresh figs, tea, popcorn, and muffins. When she started eating, he pulled out that list from his pocket.

    ¡°First, do the underwear of the dead become ghosts? Do they haunt their old drawers?¡±

    Styx burst out laughing, spraying a fine mist of liquid across the table. It took her a solid two minutes to control herself before snorting one last time.

    ¡°Cal, what in the hell was that?¡±

    ¡°Inquiring minds want to know. Because I¡¯m convinced they scare the socks away.¡±

    She snorted more before stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. ¡°Well, I hate to disappoint but no. There are no underwear ghosts.¡±

    He snapped. ¡°Damn! Damn. That¡¯s a missing opportunity if I¡¯ve ever seen one. Next, which souls would you invite to a dinner party for maximum chaos?¡±

    Styx grinned and tapped her chin. ¡°Excellent question. How big is the table?¡±

    ¡°Twenty-three spots.¡±

    ¡°Twenty-three?¡± her brow wrinkled, and he found the thin lines to be more appealing than he expected. ¡°Salvador Dal¨ª, Oscar Wilde, Freud for sure. Hummm¡­Joan of Arc, she¡¯s a riot. Mark Twain, Marie Antoinette. I¡¯d have to seat Cleopatra and Napoleon together. They¡¯ve been a couple for at least a hundred years.¡±

    Caleb froze with a handful of popcorn halfway to his mouth. ¡°They¡¯re together? Like involved?¡±

    ¡°Yep, I¡¯d have to sit da Vinci and Marie Curie together, too. They¡¯re like teenagers. Same thing with Frida and van Gogh. I kept finding them bumping cheeks all the time.¡±

    ¡°Oh, uh. Go them!¡±

    ¡°Back to the task. I¡¯d seat Ayn Rand and Marx next to each other.¡±

    ¡°Um, are they lovers?¡±

    Styx laughed. ¡°No, they¡¯re sworn enemies, which is why I¡¯d place them next to each other. So entertaining! I¡¯d stick Henry VIII next to Joan. They¡¯d be stabbing each other before long.¡±

    ¡°I could see that.¡±

    ¡°Genghis Khan would be there, along with Earhart. I¡¯d have her next to Freud. They always seem to fight about her fearless spirit. It¡¯s great. Warhol, Rasputin, and Frederich Nietzsche for sure. They¡¯re always fun at parties. Last would be Nero. He¡¯s such a bastard, everyone hates him. Does that satisfy you?¡±

    He chewed faster. ¡°Yes! Can we do that?¡±

    She smiled at him. ¡°Sure, sounds great. It¡¯s been a while since I got some conflicting personalities together for some chaos.¡±

    Caleb¡¯s mood darkened. ¡°Do you think Emma will be okay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure she¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re here! So.¡± Caleb leaned closer and wiggled his eyebrows. ¡°Want to check out some magic books?¡±

    Styx giggled, hiding her mouth behind her hands. It was such a demure and adorable move that he almost exploded. But it was something perfectly her.

    From this moment forward, he resolved to devote himself completely to her. He would provide anything she required¡ªgifts, comforting arms when sorrow struck, a steadfast companion for all time. Her happiness would become his singular purpose.

    Fulfilling her every need and wish would bring him a joy unmatched by any he had known before. Her smile alone would be the greatest blessing of his life.

 Brink of Ruin

    Almost all the anxiety had fled Caleb since Styx arrived hours ago. Stars, was it really hours? Had they spent nearly all day together? No wonder his mood was bordering on euphoric. Even with the tendrils of fear that horrible vision caused.

    Caleb leaned against the thick hardwood desk in the basement. He wore a stupid goofy grin across his face as he watched her. Styx seemed born to be bathed in semi-darkness. Everything about the dim light complemented her. From the slight shimmer of her clothes to the radiance of her exposed skin. She was so pretty that it hurt.

    Sometimes when she turned halfway, revealing her delicate profile, he had to bite down on his knuckle to hold back a cry of jubilation. She simply looked too damn beautiful, bathed in light and shadow, all gentle planes and curved silhouettes. It was like watching a myth come to life. An ethereal goddess to tempt humanity into sin.

    ¡°This is your collection of relic stones?¡± Styx asked, sorting through a big box.

    ¡°Yep, whenever I find one in the wild, I have to get it. They¡¯re just too useful.¡±

    ¡°Except this is fake.¡± She pulled out a stone and casually tossed it.

    The tablet dropped to the stone floor where it smashed on impact, cracks spiderwebbing outward across its surface. Shards and debris exploded outward from the point of collision, skittering across the ground in a chaotic, glittering spray. His insides seized, and he almost cried out. But if the immortal magical being declared it fake, it had to be.

    ¡°Oh, fantastic.¡± She held one up. ¡°This one is excellent. A friend of mine created it.¡±

    He perked up. ¡°Oh! Who?¡±

    ¡°Raiden.¡±

    Caleb tripped as he rushed to her side. ¡°Raiden? The Thunderbird?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they are really cool. Super chill. You labeled it incorrectly, though.¡±

    ¡°How? Why? What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not loud noise that strikes, it¡¯s rolling thunder across ocean. But still a great resource. Combine this with some seaweed, storm cloud and crushed coral to get Tempest¡¯s Wrath.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that sounds epic.¡±

    ¡°You can use it for several spells. One, Aquatic Resonance is fun when you¡¯re at the beach.¡±

    ¡°What does it do?¡±

    ¡°Allows the caster to command marine creatures.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s so awesome! Let¡¯s go to the beach!¡±

    ¡°Calm down there, Cal. Afterwards, you can¡¯t eat any seafood for six months. It will make you super sick.¡±

    ¡°Oh, well, I don¡¯t each that much seafood.¡±

    Styx grinned up at him. God, he was fast becoming addicted to that expression. Who knew that a mundane and ordinary movement like a smile could be so potent? One day, he hoped to wake up to that smile each morning and fall asleep beside it every night.

    ¡°These are fakes.¡± She tossed out two more tablets that promptly shattered on the ground.

    ¡°Uh, don¡¯t misunderstand. I completely and totally love you¡¯re doing this¡­but um, it¡¯s a little messy.¡±

    Styx eyed the growing pile of rock debris. ¡°Humm, I can take care of that.¡±

    With a twist of her wrist, a flood of magic burst from her hands. The dark mist vanished completely as it flowed across the floor. But a mini-tornado of stone rubble and dust sprouted.

    ¡°Eek!¡± Caleb jumped up to the table and tucked his legs under him.

    The tornado left behind a sprawling crystal structure the size of a globe. Caleb gaped at the intricate formation of geometric amethyst shards clustered with budding spikes of emerald and crimson quartz.

    The gems pulsed with a trickle of magic, filling the air with a low, resonate hum. As Caleb peered in, bands of citrine and aquamarine winked up at him, swirling together like distant galaxies.

    ¡°What is it?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Crystal Garden of Dreams.¡± She reached inside and moved a crystal.

    When the pattern was complete, all the crystals held a muted and soothing red. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. Just staring at the display was making him sleepy.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to give it to Emma, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±

    He perked up. ¡°Great idea. She¡¯d really love this.¡±

    ¡°It will provide a sense of wonder, tranquility and help her sleep. But if you¡­¡±

    ¡°Awww! Don¡¯t do that to me!! I won¡¯t be able to concentrate on anything until you tell me.¡±

    Styx smiled, a mischievous tint to her eyes. For a horrible second, he thought she might refuse. ¡°I can add crystals if you were ever, if you¡¯re ever, in a different realm. If you add them from the other realms, she¡¯ll be able to use it to see you in her dreams.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s so AWESOME!¡±

    ¡°It will also make sure she doesn¡¯t have nightmares and protect her subconscious from malicious intent while she dreams.¡±

    ¡°So no visits from Freddy?¡±

    ¡°Exactly, but Morpheus can still visit, just no evil spirits.¡±

    He came closer, unsure how to express all the thoughts swirling inside him. ¡°Thank you, Styx. This is very sweet, and I¡¯m sure that she will love it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Now, where are the books?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to smash them on the floor, are you?¡±

    She grinned up at him and winked. Groan! He¡¯d never seen her wink before and it was the cutest thing he¡¯d ever seen in his life.

    ¡°I guess you¡¯ll have to wait and see.¡±

    He chuckled before leading her to the secluded corner of his basement. ¡°Now, I have a lot of books¡­¡±

    ¡°No shit, you¡¯re worse than Anubis.¡±

    Caleb froze, turning to look at her. ¡°Anubis? Like the Egyptian God?¡±

    ¡°Yep, he runs the Elysian Archives in the underworld. It¡¯s an immense building.¡±

    ¡°A huge library? Like with a lot of rooms?¡±

    ¡°The last I asked, it was about 1200 rooms. He continually adds to the archives.¡±

    ¡°Ohhhhhhhhh, I¡¯d love to see it.¡±

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°Won¡¯t happen, mortal. The underworld would kill you dead.¡±

    He deflated, the idea of never seeing a 1200 room library made his soul ache! ¡°But.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°But.¡±

    ¡°Still nope.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡±

    ¡°Are you going to show me your collection, or should I just leave?¡±

    He lurched forward and grabbed her sleeve. ¡°Don¡¯t go!¡±

    ¡°Then show me what you got.¡±

    ¡°Here.¡±

    In what he thought was a dramatic gesture, he threw back the heavy tapestry protecting his prized collection. Except he smacked himself in the face, staggered backwards and nearly fell. Styx kept him from toppling over, laughing.

    Caleb cleared his throat, rubbed his jaw, and tried not to look at her. Because if he did, he might faint.

    ¡°Uh, here we are! My prized books. Well, I prize all my books. I cried like a baby last spring when the pipes in the downstairs sink burst. Ruined two stacks. But these are special.¡±

    ¡°I can tell.¡±

    As she held out her hands, the books seemed to react. The spines changing color and shifting slightly on the shelf. He sighed, shoulders slumping, as envy kindled in his chest over lacking any magical perception He¡¯d tried for months and years and decades. But alas, the Creators didn¡¯t deem him worthy, so he lacked magic or the ability to sense it.

    Sucks to be him.

    ¡°Yes, these are all the grimoires, sacred texts, and scrolls I¡¯ve come across.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re beautiful and deadly.¡±

    Styx stopped her browsing and focused on one book in particular.

    ¡°I found that one in children¡¯s bookshop in Alaska. Super random. I discovered it tucked in the corner next to Where¡¯s Waldo and Eye Spy. Great story, I got it for a steal. The owner couldn¡¯t remember where they¡¯d picked it up.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a record of Death.¡±

    Caleb gulped. ¡°Death, as in you Death?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± She picked it up. ¡°Not me specifically, but the history of Death. An immortal penned it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, wow! I haven¡¯t handled it much because I always felt rather disgusting after. Even with gloves with protective runes on it. The flight home was crazy. I got super sick, high fever, chills. They almost had to turn the plane around for an emergency landing.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky. That¡¯s the sign it¡¯s killing you.¡±

    She opened it up, and he came closer. Usually the pages were a dusty blue color with black text, but now they were a vibrant gray. The text was white, the letters morphing before finding their shape.

    ¡°This is my gift to you then, because, frankly, I¡¯d prefer not to keep it if it¡¯s going to be lethal. Emma has been getting curious, and I¡¯d rather not have such books here.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Cal!¡±

    ¡°Caleb.¡±

    ¡°This is sure an impressive collection. You¡¯ve got an excellent range of materials.¡±

    He rubbed his neck. ¡°Yeah, I always seem to find the best ones. Whenever I go into a shop, it¡¯s like they call to me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because they recognize you¡¯ll be a proper steward. You take great care of them. Some have been seriously neglected. I know Rowan was excited to get Sealochrann back. She hasn¡¯t stopped talking about it.¡±

    ¡°Good, I¡¯m overjoyed to reunite them.¡±

    ¡°That makes everything worth it. If you see anything else that you would like to keep or Rowan, please help yourself.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d willingly part with these books?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if ¡®willingly¡¯ is right. I love them all, even the deadly ones. But I¡¯m a realist. I recognize it might be better for them and myself to have a magic immortal overseeing them.¡±

    She looked back at the full shelves. ¡°No, I sense nothing else that would pose too much danger. Besides, many of these books don¡¯t want to leave. They like it here. You keep the humidity at an excellent level.¡±

    ¡°Oh good, soooo¡­¡± He leaned against the wall and attempted to be sexy. ¡°Is this a date?¡±

    Styx took one look at him and burst out laughing. Just when she calmed down, she¡¯d glance at him again and laugh harder. That was a bad sign, right? If she couldn¡¯t even look at him without laughing hysterically.

    Finally, she brought herself under control. ¡°What the hell? It was entertaining enough. Sure, Cal, let¡¯s call this our first date. Consider yourself lucky. The last time I was with a mortal was 1974, Trevor. Excellent dude.¡±

    Everything inside exploded and went in a thousand different directions at once. The fact that she had such a great time with him was exhilarating! But he wouldn¡¯t think about her dating other guys. Nope, nope, nope.

    ¡°Really? I had no¡­¡±

    Sudden dread exploded, seizing his pounding heart.

    Everything slowed as the menacing click click of following footsteps echoed. Ragged breaths filled the silence, gasping for relief. Wicked chuckles flowed from the darkness, taunting and teasing.

    Rancid acidic terror flooded his mouth as Emma¡¯s face contorted, the guttural shrieks of a young life extinguished in agony. Soulless shining eyes peered close, victory reflected in the depths, rejoicing in triumph.

    ¡°Cal? Are you here?¡±

    He had to escape this vision, had to reach her. The setting sun stretched the shadows of the hooded figures long and thin, obscuring their faces as they stalked the nearly empty school grounds.

    A cloak flapped in the wind. The fabric smoked slightly, little wisps of gray rising from each movement. It was a dark blue color, deep and endless. The cowl covered everything, so that nothing was visible.

    Nothing except the neon blue eyes. Peering, digging into the soul. A low chuckle emerged, more resembling a whispered curse than a joyful expression. That sound alone was enough to terrorize and paralyze.

    Emma¡¯s fear flooded his mind, metallic panic coating his tongue. He could taste her racing heart, feel icy fingers clutching his spine. The figures reeked of ancient magic, of brimstone and blood.

    ¡°Caleb. This is a vision.¡±

    They would kill her, snuff out her bright future because of him. Caleb strained against the images, every fiber burning. Sweat soaked his shirt as he fought to get to his niece, to save her from the demons¡¯ claws before they tore her apart. He had to break free...

    A scream split the air as red blood flowed across the cobblestone ground.

    They bathed in blood, standing over a lifeless corpse.

    Because these shadows will end her. Then he would have to hold his sister, as she cried over the body of her only child. Arrange a funeral. Buy a plot. Stand next to a closed coffin.

    And Styx, poor Styx, would be called to escort her soul to the underworld. That would probably mean the end of their relationship. Because he couldn¡¯t see her wanting anything to do with him afterward.

    Still, the confines of the vision kept him trapped.

    ¡°Caleb!¡±

    Something sharp collided with him, throwing him back. Styx saved him from falling onto the shelves as he sputtered and coughed.

    ¡°What the hell? You were lost, concealed. What happened?¡±

    He gaped like a fish, unsure what or where he was. Then Styx lifted his head, so they were staring eye to eye. ¡°Caleb.¡±

    Oh, he should say something. But before he could get the words to form in his mouth, his pocket started vibrating.

    Emma!

    He scrambled frantically to yank the phone from his pocket and accept the call.

    ¡°Caleb,¡± Emma¡¯s voice was not just freighted, but petrified. ¡°Uncle, please help me.¡±

    ¡°Emma,¡± his frozen lips somehow formed the word.

    ¡°Magical beings are following me,¡± she whispered.

    With those words, all the fear and paranoia crashed down on him. Absolute panic flooded his body, tainting each inch and flooding every area.

    ¡°They have no faces, but their eyes glow blue in the darkness. I¡¯m scared. Can you come pick me up?¡±

    Styx was gone. Before, her expression was soft and full of joy. Now, she contained only one thing: rage. That¡¯s when he decided to never, ever, ever get on her bad side. Because if she ever turned that look on him, he¡¯d become a puddle of goo on the floor.

    ¡°Help me.¡±

    ¡°Where are you?¡± he asked, finding his voice.

    ¡°Outside of campus.¡± Her words wavered. ¡°They¡¯re shadows. Haunting shadows.¡±

    ¡°Go to a business.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing,¡± she sobbed. ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°Fuck.¡± He raked a hand through his hair. ¡°Fuck.¡±

    Now there were even more emotions swirling helplessly inside of him. Because he might not make it in time to save one of his last blood relations. Demons could kill that sweet, innocent girl today.

    A cool hand pressed down on his arm and with a flash he remembered Styx. That¡¯s right, she was an immortal god. A powerful magical creature that could save his niece.

    ¡°Stay out of the shadows,¡± he said. ¡°Hold your protective amulet in your hands, make sure it¡¯s in the sunlight. Speak these words: By sunlight rays and warm grace, a shield of light, a sacred space. In whispered words, we weave the light, guard my soul, keep darkness from sight.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± she cried.

    ¡°You can. You have to. Listen, Emma. We can¡¯t stay on the phone.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± she cried out, and the terror in her voice caused his chest to ache worse than he could remember.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Cellphones mess with spells. Hang up and repeat those words, over and over. I¡¯ll be there soon.¡±

    ¡°Please, no! I¡¯m scared. I don¡¯t want to die.¡±

    ¡°I know, I¡¯m frightened¡­¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Emma shouted, and the urgency in her tone made ice appear in his veins. ¡°No! Get away!¡±

    ¡°Emma!¡±

    Frantic, he pressed the phone closer to his ear. Then more desperation and fear exploded. Emma wasn¡¯t speaking because she was running. He could hear the thump thump of her feet against the ground.

    All he could think about was the day she was born. Holding that bundle of hope and possibilities was the most amazing thing he¡¯d done. She was so tiny and precious. To be ended by demons, have her last moments be in fear and panic. That was the worst way to die. The worst way to pass to the next life.

    ¡°Leave me alone!¡±

    Her voice became muffled by the panting exertion of running and her distance from the receiver. But the emotion was obvious. More footsteps fell, this time muffled by grass.

    The earpiece caught bits and piece of wind, creating a low menacing sound. Emma was running for her life. The demons were going to end her, kill her before he did anything. Every fiber in his entire body was crying out, lamenting, and cursing.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Emma yelled.

    The word triggered another vision, shouts catching in his paralyzed throat. Emma¡¯s backpack weighed down her exhausted body as she forced herself to keep running.

    The demons edged closer, dark robes billowing, blue eyes glowing with twisted delight at her panic. Emma collapsed to the ground, terror stealing all her strength. She raised a shaking hand, begging for mercy.

    No! He lurched to his feet, only to fall. The pain in his knees was nothing, but his phone struck the stones and shattered.

    ¡°NO! No! No!¡± He scrambled to grab the pieces and shove them together. ¡°No. Emma.¡±

    Shadows pressed against him, and the cold caress of magic slipped over him. With tears falling, he looked up.

    As the last tendrils of sunlight faded from the window, Death emerged from the shadows.

 Rescued by Death

    A mesmerizing blend of muted grays and chilly blues cascaded by Styx. The morphing colors spun wildly, blurring together like a painter drunk on visions beyond understanding, blindly trying to capture the inexpressible on canvas.

    But the visual spectacle was only part of the experience. Portals had a distinct smell¡ªthe crude essence of magic itself. Reminiscent of a dying star fusing fundamental elements, tearing into reality. But underneath that note of cosmic creation lay earthier tones, the lush humidity of the ancient forest, verdant with life.

    There was even an unmistakable taste accompanying traveling through the folds of time and space. A combination of spicy pepper and crisp apple. Beneath that sweetness lay the taste of hot iron blood, echoing the bitter struggle between life and death. The flavors collided, intertwining creation and destruction in equal measure. Not that she went around licking portal walls, but everyone who traveled this way inevitably experienced it.

    Styx breathed deeply, letting the scent and flavors roll through her. They were the purest distillations of magic¡¯s volatile essence, barely contained by the throbbing sides. Headier than the most potent ale, more overwhelming than the richest meal.

    Time itself altered in this place, bending around the warped borders of the portal. It was not a significant difference, only proving Einstein¡¯s theory that time is relative. Mortals created standardized time to provide structure. But within the swirling colors, time as they knew it ceased to exist.

    If she stopped and summoned just a faint trace of power. They could look between the walls of the portal into any moment in Earth¡¯s history. They could slide into that fold and experience Earth in 100 BC, or 4020 CE. Perhaps one day she¡¯d take Caleb on a time traveling adventure.

    Usually traveling like this as Death was invigorating and sharp. But today, fear tainted those usual undertones.

    Styx was afraid. Afraid for Emma. Afraid for Caleb. Afraid for herself. They were moving towards a great unknown. A potential disaster that could spell the conclusion of this budding relationship.

    But that trepidation carried an excitement within it. Because if she could kill a demon, even a single one, it would change the tide of this growing war. It would prove that the four horsewomen could triumph over this evil. It could signal the start of the end for those interlopers.

    There were few moments in her never-ending life that she could point to with the same feelings. As an all-powerful being, she was used to dominating. But now, there was a real risk of failure. She could be walking to her demise. She could lead Caleb to his death and Emma to hers. That tremble of the unknown was wreaking havoc within.

    Because if she failed, if she sat on the ground holding his lifeless body. No part of her would remain unscarred, irrevocably altered by that. That¡¯s why she had to end the soul bond.

    His death would mean nothing if they didn¡¯t share a bond. Mortals died every day. She escorted their souls. Listened to their cries of mercy and calls of jubilation. But to watch his soul drift behind her. That was something she couldn¡¯t bear.

    Subtly, she cast a glance at Caleb. Humans didn¡¯t do well in portals. They lacked the real understanding of everything to not go insane. Which was understandable. Even with his experiences with magic, he seemed unnerved. The glisten of sweat on his upper lip hinted at his turmoil. How ridged he held himself, spoke to the torment. She¡¯d do whatever it took to remove this strain from him.

    Now, as they neared their exit, Death summoned her full strength. It was a dynamic dance between control and out of control. Because she was power incarnate as Death.

    Magic bent to her will. It altered to the twist of her fingers. It formed with her whispered words. She would not go quietly into the night. Not when she had the strength to change darkness to light and back again.

    Just ahead awaited the path into the unknown. This could be where their story ended and worlds collapsed. She may be about to discover what happened when an immortal god perished.

    But she would not be afraid. Because she was Death! The strong fled from her. The weak cowered before her. No demon would infect her with the blight of fear.

    Raising her scythe, she sliced through the portal, and in the same motion, formed the exit. Smooth, like silk, she stepped from the folds back into the mortal world.

    Behind her, Caleb flopped and fell, rolling a few times before he slid to a stop. ¡°Ouch.¡±

    They were on a quiet suburban street. Rows of brick houses with empty driveways and small gardens lining the road. There wasn¡¯t a soul for miles, human or animal.

    ¡°I can smell you, demon,¡± Death said, her voice low and menacing. ¡°Your stink of brimstone and blood is in the air. I feel your tainted power. Reveal yourself!¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Caleb stood a few paces behind her, bits of grass on his shirt and pants. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re going to kick your asses for threatening my Emma! Uh¡­where are they?¡±

    Death pointed her scythe. Caleb peered cautiously around her to where she indicated. Trash bins and gardening supplies cluttered the alleyway between two houses. Something in the shadows moved, and Death prepared herself.

    ¡°Emma!¡± Caleb cried out.

    He stumbled twice over the uneven ground before finally regaining his balance. The rhythmic sound of his hurried footsteps echoed through the confined space, reverberating off the walls. Death reached out to hold him, but froze before she touched him.

    ¡°Caleb!¡± But even with her shouted warning, he didn¡¯t stop.

    The shadow moved again, and Emma¡¯s pale face peered up. The terror she obviously felt was clearly evident. But when her eyes lit upon Caleb, some of that fear drained away.

    Emma cried out as she ran and jumped into his arms. But Death couldn¡¯t appreciate the touching scene. Whipping around, she narrowed her focus across the street. A demon was watching, their blue eyes like ice in the black. The demon vanished into the darkness before she could move. Death lingered, stretching her magic to ensure there were no more of those evil creatures nearby.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Caleb cooed as he held his niece.

    After confirming there was no more danger, Styx let Death dissolve. The menacing cowl and scythe vanished in a puff of smoke and swirl of darkness.

    Styx kept most of her attention to the surrounding area, unwilling to be ambushed. However, she was happy to see how he was comforting Emma. The soothing lilt of Caleb¡¯s voice and the fierce caring in his eyes as he cradled Emma pierced Styx¡¯s heart. None but a loving, worthy man could offer such selfless comfort.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Are you okay, Ladybug?¡± Caleb asked.

    ¡°Physically I¡¯m fine. They didn¡¯t touch me. Mentally, I can¡¯t say. I¡¯m shaking so badly.¡± She held up quivering hands.

    ¡°That¡¯s the adrenaline,¡± Styx said.

    He smiled and kissed Emma¡¯s forehead. ¡°I have the fix for that.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t say something like dragon¡¯s toenails or unicorn spit,¡± Emma groaned.

    ¡°No, ice cream!¡±

    Emma perked up. ¡°Ice cream?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sugar, distraction, comfort, all in one package,¡± Caleb said. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve gotten some.¡±

    ¡°Do you like ice cream, Styx?¡± Emma asked.

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s decided. The shop is close by. Together, men, uh, women!¡± Caleb pointed down the street.

    Styx chuckled as he led the way down the road. Soon they were sitting around a cheap table with heaps of ice cream between them.

    ¡°This is superb,¡± Styx said, taking another bite. ¡°Who knew brown butter bacon ice cream would be so delicious?¡±

    ¡°Yeehhahhh,¡± Caleb said, his mouth full.

    Emma swatted him and he blushed. ¡°Remember your manners, Uncle. Carl owns this shop, and he makes all the flavors himself. Local ingredients too. Sometimes he even has sheep milk flavors.¡±

    ¡°That sounds interesting,¡± Styx said.

    Styx went to take another bite, using it as a distraction to study Emma. The girl wasn¡¯t doing well. Her face was too pale, and her eyes kept darting to every little movement. Caleb frowned as he noticed. A wave of anxiety flooded her, and Styx knew where it was coming from. Caleb was nervous for his niece and unsure how to help.

    ¡°I¡¯ve learned that you¡¯re in the drama club,¡± Styx said, sliding another spoon into her mouth.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Emma said. ¡°I¡¯m not an actor. See, I¡¯m totally into fashion. That¡¯s the best place to get experience making costumes and things.¡±

    ¡°No way! I love clothes.¡±

    Emma perked up. ¡°Really? Is that why you¡¯re always dressed so nice?¡±

    Styx grinned. ¡°Yep. I have three rooms of clothes at home.¡±

    Caleb¡¯s jaw dropped, and mouth draped open. ¡°Three?¡±

    Emma bounced in her chair. ¡°Three rooms? Three? Where did you get enough to fill up so much space?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m immortal. Some pieces in my collection are older than the bible.¡±

    Caleb snorted and winced. ¡°Fuck, I just inhaled ice cream. It burns.¡± He held his face in his hands.

    Emma and Styx glanced at each other and laughed.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad my pain is so funny,¡± he choked out.

    ¡°It is,¡± Emma said. ¡°The look on your face is priceless.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it is.¡±

    He coughed again and shuddered.

    ¡°What play are you doing?¡± Styx asked.

    ¡°A Midsummers Night Dream,¡± Emma said, taking another bite. ¡°Here are the designs we have.¡±

    Emma rooted in her backpack before pulling out a sketchbook. Styx leaned closer as Emma went through each page of notes. The girl had a good fashion sense about her. All the designs were captivating and interesting.

    Styx cast a quick glance around the shop. There weren¡¯t any other customers, and the employees were busy. Knowing this might be a dumb idea, Styx hesitated only for a second before leaning across the table.

    ¡°Would you like to see real fairy items?¡± Styx whispered.

    Caleb choked again. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s smart?¡±

    She waved him off. ¡°Mortals will see what they want.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s smart or not! I wanna see!¡± Emma said.

    Styx smiled and winked. She could have sworn that Caleb groaned, but when she looked at him, he was studying his half-empty bowl. After checking once more, Styx released a little magic.

    Emma¡¯s eyes went wide as inky tendrils unfurled across the tabletop. With a snap of Styx¡¯s fingers, a shimmering portal blossomed to life, no larger than a dessert plate.

    Swirling grays and striking blues danced within the mystical doorway, mirroring the flecked granite pattern of the table. The mini portal flickered with otherworldly light, sending wisps of arcane energy twirling around the bowls.

    ¡°Wow! What¡¯s that?¡± Emma asked.

    ¡°That is a portal,¡± Caleb said. ¡°Magical beings use them to travel between the realms. They use a special type of magic that slices through reality. It¡¯s perfectly safe.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s awesome.¡±

    Styx reached inside, knowing what she was going to grab. When she pulled the item from the small circle. Emma and Caleb gasped. As they should.

    ¡°This was King Linden¡¯s crown,¡± she said, placing it on the table.

    Caleb and Emma shared the same reaction. Wide eyes and gaping mouth.

    ¡°He ruled the Fae realm for 1200 years before leaving for the Undying lands. Because of my service to his kingdom, he gifted me his crown.¡±

    Fairy artisans wove the crown from golden branches and studded it with emerald leaves that caught the light spectacularly. The base curled and twisted like gnarled tree roots while delicate golden spires reached towards the heavens, topped with a single flashing peridot.

    ¡°My god,¡± Emma exhaled. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything so pretty.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard about him. He is the king who ended the war with Olympus and gifted them the Horn of Amalthea.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. Linden recognized the terrible toll the war was having on the realms and ended it. He was a wise and loved ruler.¡±

    Emma shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t accept this. No, no, no. Someone will steal it and then you¡¯d hate me for losing such a treasure.¡±

    ¡°First,¡± Styx said. ¡°I could never hate you. Second, this is a highly magical item in a world with few magical items. I can track it anywhere. So you can take it and use it for your fairy king.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Styx. Wow, this is fantastic.¡± Emma looked from the crown to her.

    ¡°But wait, there¡¯s more!¡± Styx smiled as she reached into the portal again. Withdrawing another crown. Emma gasped, and Caleb nearly toppled from his chair.

    ¡°This is the crown of Queen Aurelia. She was the first fairy queen. I received this crown after saving her daughter from a band of hybrid trolls.¡±

    The queen¡¯s diadem featured a silver vine base ensconced with luminous pearls like glistening raindrops. Tiny sapphire blossoms adorned the vine, surrounding the centerpiece¡ªa dazzling moonstone carved into a crescent moon, resting on the brow.

    ¡°Now you have your fairy crowns for the king and queen.¡±

    ¡°Styx, this is more than I could have ever imagined. Thank you so much!¡± Emma delicately touched the moonstone.

    ¡°It¡¯s my pleasure.¡±

    Glancing at Caleb, she saw that goofy grin spreading across his face¡ªthe one she was trying hard not to fall for. There was something so guileless about his expressions, as if deceit was a foreign concept. She realized that the words he spoke and looks he wore had always rung of truth.

    ¡°This is excellent, Styx,¡± Caleb said. ¡°I was going to craft a few crowns from some black moon wire and a few enchanted pendants. But this is fantastic!¡±

    ¡°Thank god,¡± Emma exhaled. ¡°I was dreading telling him that his design skill sucks. With a capital S.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    Emma shook her head. ¡°Uncle, remember that apron you made me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it was perfect! I used frozen cherry blossoms from feudal Japan and unicorn hair.¡±

    ¡°Uh, huh. It fell apart the next day and burst into flames. It almost burned down my room.¡±

    Red climbed up his cheeks and he cleared his throat. ¡°This ice cream is melting.¡±

    Both Styx and Emma laughed.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad I can save you from burning and melting,¡± Styx said. ¡°But I think the costume designer gets something, too.¡±

    ¡°No, no.¡± Emma waved her hands. ¡°You¡¯ve done too much, given too much. I don¡¯t need anything else.¡±

    ¡°Debatable, because if I remember right, Prom is soon,¡± Styx said with a smile.

    ¡°No! I will not accept a prom dress from you. That would be too much! I¡¯d be in your debt, and I¡¯m not sure I can ever pay you back.¡±

    ¡°Except I¡¯m not asking for payment. This is a gift, besides I¡¯ve never worn it and it will look fantastic with your skin tone.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Emma squeaked.

    ¡°Really.¡± Styx reached into the portal again.

    She took her time before selecting the right garment. Then, with a last look at Emma¡¯s excited face, she pulled.

    Emma¡¯s face went from eager to full on ecstatic. She kept glancing between Styx, Caleb, and the dress, her smile building each time.

    ¡°Rei Kawakubo created this. I purchased it to attend a ball at the gnome court. But I ended up wearing something else.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like it,¡± Emma whispered.

    Initially, the dress appeared simple, just a steep column of midnight blue fabric. It whispered as Emma caressed it. But on closer inspection, the intricacy emerged. Panels of lace and satin interwove in complex geometric patterns, mimicking the facets of a sapphire.

    Each layer built texture and dimension while remaining slim. Strategic cutouts would reveal glimpses of skin like flashes of lightning. Glimmering silver threads wove throughout and caught the light with each movement.

    Styx held it up, the back plunged dramatically, echoing a crescent moon curve. With a casual movement, she swished the skirt. An underlayer of the deep purple of dusk at twilight was visible through fine slit detailing.

    ¡°When I commissioned the piece, I asked for a dress fit for a fairy queen. Elegant, artistic, and infused with just a touch of magic. While Rei Kawakubo is without magic, she took the instruction perfectly.¡±

    Emma reached out and delicately touched the fabric. ¡°Styx, I don¡¯t know what to say.¡±

    ¡°Say you¡¯ll take it and wear it. It¡¯s been sitting unused in my closet for ages.¡±

    A brilliant smile spread across Emma¡¯s face, and now Styx couldn¡¯t see a trace of the horror from earlier. Even Caleb had lost the tint of fear in his features. Styx smiled, knowing that sometimes it took only a little magic and a lot of compassion to change fear to joy.

 Whispers of Disaster

    Was existence always this dichotomous? Styx had no idea because this was new for her. On one hand, she felt jubilation and excitement over the developing relationship with Caleb. On the other, fear and trepidation.

    The demons were escalating, bringing more of their filth into Earth and the known realms. Styx blew out a breath. Discouraged, she leaned her chin on the pile of papers. This close, the musty scent of ink and parchment was overpowering. But comforting in its predictable nature.

    Reports about demon sightings in the other realms were flowing in. Olympus, Asgard, Aaru, T¨ªr na n¨®g, Swarga, Tushita, Takamaghara, Kunlun, Haneul, Aniywiyai, Tlalocan, and Hanan Pach were all suffering from an increase of demon activity.

    It was a troubling development to an already stressful case.

    The crisp smell of the living wood wasn¡¯t enough to quell the unease. Angry at herself for being unable to solve this riddle, she leaned back in her chair.

    Bands of sunlight wove through the room, sparkling green as it slid past the leaves. Hoping for an answer, she watched the motes of dust as they glittered and danced. Perhaps when this debacle was done, she could be oblivious to the world like they were.

    A few specters drifted behind her, their ethereal existence summoned by her mood. They weren¡¯t substance or spirit. Instead, specters remained trapped in between. Almost alive, but not quite dead. They¡¯d feed off her excess energies, both positive and negative. Styx didn¡¯t mind. They helped take the edge off. In fact, she encouraged their presence, because they helped to escort souls when she was busy.

    A fist clenched around a parchment, the paper crinkling and cracking in her iron grasp. Still, she squeezed, until her arm trembled, and muscles burned. This was all she could do, crumple up stupid papers!

    Angry, she chucked the destroyed page across the room where it bounced harmlessly off the wall. That¡¯s all she was good for. Useless acts of aggression that did no damage, vanishing without a trace.

    Somehow, the fact that all these sightings and reports said nothing about kidnappings was more troublesome. The evil group must have shifted their focus to acquiring magical objects and kidnapping deities.

    That could spell disaster, because if they got their hands on something powerful. It would tip the already fragile scales.

    That was unsettling enough to make trepidation swirl inside of her. But that wasn¡¯t the worst part. Most of the sightings on Earth were concentrated in England, particularly the southwest.

    Close to Caleb.

    A chill raced down her spine as the stark possibility crystallized. She could see it now, him sitting in that faded old armchair, reading intently. The ambush would come from the shadows with blue blades and ruthless claws.

    Panic seized her pounding heart as more gruesome visions assaulted her mind, each more horrific than the last. What agony would that cause? Each slash and bruise rocketing through their soul bond, every bolt of fear slicing deeply. And she would be powerless to save him.

    Would she reach him in time to watch the last shattered breath leave his body? To see the final blaze of adoration in his eyes blink out as he pleaded for her with bloodied lips?

    The sickening images refused to fade, oozing like a poison, filling her every thought with darkness.

    When the door opened, Styx jumped.

    ¡°Greetings, fearless leader! Sarutahiko just dropped these off,¡± Sorcha said, setting another pile of papers in front of her.

    Styx cleared her throat, desperately hoping those terrible images would vanish. ¡°More sightings?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what he led me to believe. My eyes blurred after a minute, so I didn¡¯t read them all. But they gathered some specifics on the organization.¡±

    Styx perked up at that. They were having a hell of a time finding anything out. Now a little more invigorated, she picked up one to read.

    ¡°Nyxen at the top, we knew that.¡± Her eyes darted back and forth over the script. ¡°Interesting, so they¡¯ve discovered at least twenty individual demons. Asher, that name sounds familiar.¡±

    Sorcha inhaled. ¡°Wait! Isn¡¯t he always teasing Rowan? I¡¯m glad it¡¯s not me. I¡¯d probably faint if a demon talked to me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Styx said as Sorcha sat next to her. ¡°Bastard.¡±

    ¡°They also believe their magic is rooted in something different.¡±

    ¡°Different? What do you mean?¡± Styx looked up from the piles of reports.

    Sorcha bit her lip and pulled a paper from the stack before handing it over. Styx skimmed it, looking up without comprehending what the words meant.

    ¡°Sarutahiko said the indications are it¡¯s older than the Creators. I¡¯m not sure about the details. He explained it, but I didn¡¯t understand most of what he told me. I just understood it¡¯s old. Ancient even.¡±

    ¡°That could be why it¡¯s so powerful. Creator magic, while formidable, is young compared to some others in the cosmos.¡±

    Sorcha twirled a lock of hair around her finger. ¡°He said some of their runes and spells turned blue after being exposed to the demon¡¯s presence.¡±

    ¡°Blue?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense. Their eyes and blades are that color.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too much for me. You know I¡¯m not the brightest gem in the treasure hoard.¡±

    Styx leaned back, the wood creaking and leaves rustling. ¡°You might not be strategy smart, Famine, but you¡¯ve got other areas that you excel.¡±

    Sorcha started chewing on a fingernail. ¡°Lucky you, I¡¯m unsure we could have more smart horsewomen. You and Rowan are all we need.¡±

    THUMP! Thwack!

    ¡°Roooooarrrrr!¡±

    Sorcha stood and stepped to the window. ¡°Looks like Valerie is wrestling Typhon again.¡±

    Needing a break, Styx stood and stretched. A series of pops echoed as she twisted her back and rolled her shoulders. It had been a long morning of staying hunched in search of answers.

    Standing next to Sorcha, Styx blinked as the bright sunlight momentarily blinded her. As her vision adjusted, she spotted Valerie and Typhon rolling about on the grass below.

    The dragon snapped at a limb before Valerie spun away. Valerie shoved an elbow into the dragon¡¯s side, eliciting an angry roar. Undeterred, she swung onto its back, evoking smoldering snarls as she locked her arms around his neck. Typhon thrashed, scarlet wings beating furiously as he tried to dislodge her.

    With a mighty heave, the dragon flipped Valerie over his head. Unfazed, she hit the ground and rolled. In a blur, she had Typhon¡¯s leg clenched between her thighs. The dragon snapped with razor-sharp obsidian teeth, just missing her arm.

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Creators, to be so bold,¡± Sorcha breathed. ¡°Wrestling a dragon?! She¡¯s going to lose a limb and bleed everywhere. Never mind, she¡¯s already bleeding.¡±

    Styx laughed, but the sound choked off as Valerie smashed her forehead against Typhon¡¯s snout. ¡°That¡¯s what happens when you¡¯re the embodiment of war. You want to fight everything.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll never again accept her challenge.¡± Sorcha rubbed her arms. ¡°I swear she almost ripped my arms off.¡±

    Styx chuckled. ¡°You hold the record for the shortest fight.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d prefer being locked in a room with a dozen freshly baked breads over doing that again.¡±

    Behind them, the door clicked open, and the air movement swirled the ghostly tendrils of the specters. They shifted and blurred before forming again.

    ¡°Rowan,¡± Styx said, greeting the horsewoman. ¡°Any news?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Rowan nodded. ¡°At least I think it¡¯s news.¡±

    Below them Typhon or Valerie roared, sometimes they sounded too similar to differentiate.

    Sorcha sighed and looked at Rowan. ¡°Please tell me that the suppression spell is almost ready? I feel so empty inside.¡±

    Rowan shook her head. ¡°It has thirty minutes.¡±

    ¡°At least that spell is still working. The others only lasted a little before they lost potency.¡± Styx shuffled more papers.

    She whimpered and rubbed her belly. ¡°Sometimes being famine is the worst. I¡¯m so hungry.¡±

    ¡°I know, Sorcha,¡± Rowan said. ¡°And I¡¯m sorry after all these decades. We haven¡¯t found a better way to feed you.¡±

    ¡°Take solace from the fact you can¡¯t actually starve to death,¡± Styx said, rubbing Sorcha¡¯s shoulders. ¡°But you can rot someone into goo, so that¡¯s a bonus.¡±

    Sorcha blew out a breath. ¡°That¡¯s insignificant compared to fries, burgers, and a milkshake. If only I could get near food without those spells and potions.¡±

    ¡°Being the physical manifestation of decay and hunger has its downfall,¡± Rowan said.

    Outside, the fight obviously had gotten worse. The windows rattled as a heavy impact thudded against the wall, followed by a howl of pain.

    Sorcha sighed. ¡°I think I¡¯ll go get the healing sprites.¡±

    ¡°Tell them to take it elsewhere too,¡± Styx said. ¡°I need to concentrate, and that grunting is distracting.¡±

    ¡°Why did the weightlifter bring a ladder to the gym?¡± Sorcha snorted.

    Styx grinned, and Rowan groaned. But Sorcha was obvious.

    ¡°Because he didn¡¯t want to be caught grunting on the ground!¡± Sorcha burst out laughing.

    Rowan stared deadpan, not even the edges of her lips curling. Styx gave a courtesy chuckle, and Sorcha giggled as she left.

    ¡°She tells the worst jokes,¡± Rowan muttered.

    ¡°It makes her happy, besides they¡¯re harmless.¡±

    ¡°Not unless my ears bleed.¡± Rowan set the papers down.

    ¡°Come, look at these. We finally have some idea about their magic.¡± Styx sat back down and shoved over the newest pile.

    Rowan took the top page and scanned it before laying out some pages. Styx cleared off a bigger portion of the table, sliding the stacks aside. Without words, Rowan took a pouch from inside her robe and threw the wooden runes. The small disks clinked, rolled across the table, and came to a rest.

    Rowan leaned forward, and Styx didn¡¯t pester her with questions. It did nothing to rush the process. Even if she tried, Rowan would dig her heels in and take twice as long. Styx learned that centuries ago. Now she sat back and waited.

    Despite fighting it, Caleb came to mind. The slight upturn of his lips when he was trying not to smile. How his eyes sparkled when he spoke of books. The electric tingle that wove across her body when he touched her. How he would ramble when he got nervous.

    Then the sight of his lifeless body cascaded over her thoughts.

    She shook her head, convinced that she needed to speak to Rowan soon about severing the soul bond. Needing to forget that terrible sight, she focused on that burning spot behind her left ribs.

    He was certainly making popcorn because he never got that specific quivering anticipation for anything else.

    If she focused on that point harder, she could sense him stronger. Was he thinking about her?

    If she allowed the bond to deepen, then she¡¯d know he was thinking of her.

    Before more thoughts bombarded her, Rowan interrupted.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a bad feeling about this,¡± Rowan said.

    ¡°Uh oh, that¡¯s not good. The last time you said that, Vesuvius blew its top.¡±

    Rowan fidgeted with a bone pendant hanging from her belt. ¡°Yeah, something¡¯s whispering. We¡¯re dealing with that sort of major upset.¡±

    Styx groaned and pressed her palms into her eyes. A cool tingle of magic caressed her back as the specters devoured the heightened emotion.

    ¡°It¡¯s not good,¡± Rowan continued. ¡°It¡¯s all pain, suffering, hurting, tearing, trapped. Bad things.¡±

    ¡°How can those runes be so negative? Get some happy runes. I want some good news.¡±

    ¡°Good news? Uh, I guess this one is kind of good.¡± Rowan pointed to one. ¡°That means settled.¡±

    ¡°Settled? How is that good news?¡±

    ¡°The demons have chosen a location for their hidden lair.¡±

    That got her attention. Styx jerked upright. ¡°Where? We can raid it and kill them all!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being dumb, it¡¯s not Google Maps. I can¡¯t tell you where. It just means they¡¯ve chosen a location and have settled.¡±

    Styx smacked the table. ¡°I don¡¯t think that counts as good. Not if we can¡¯t find the damn place to begin with.¡±

    Rowan shrugged, sliding the runes into the pouch. ¡°I¡¯ll start work on a tracer ritual. Won¡¯t work well until we get something from the demons, blood, fibers, things like that.¡±

    Styx snorted. ¡°Sure, the next time they demolish a sanctuary or try to kidnap a mortal, I¡¯ll just ask for some blood.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll ask Asher.¡± Styx grinned. ¡°He seems willing to help you out.¡±

    Rowan turned her deadpan expression on Styx. ¡°If you speak his name in my presence again, I¡¯ll make you itch for a month.¡±

    Styx waved her off. ¡°Boss, remember? Besides, it¡¯s not my fault that he¡¯s attached to you.¡±

    ¡°Attached like a fucking burr, all he does is antagonize and belittle.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a male, therefore he¡¯s incapable of understanding emotion. He probably¡­¡±

    Magic exploded from Rowan. Dark purple burst outwards, slamming into Styx. She rocketed backward and slammed into the wall. Bolts of power held her against the living wood, pressing her tighter to the unyielding surface.

    The sudden eruption of power sent the lingering specters racing away. The very air thickened as Rowan called upon her magic. Ribbons of dark purple erupted outwards, spinning faster and faster. As the magic engulfed Rowan, she vanished.

    The mystical energy exploded into motes of violet and midnight blue, dissipating like fireflies to reveal Pestilence. Her terrible beauty carried an otherworldly grace¡ªalabaster skin stretched over delicate bones, mist-like hair, and eyes that pierced Styx¡¯s core with hollow perfection.

    When Pestilence moved, her steps held a preternatural grace, as if she might drift away on the breeze. Her pallid skin was flawless yet translucent as marble, with faint blue veins tracing her arms. Strange and scentless, the chill of her presence made Styx¡¯s neck hairs stand on end. Strange markings flowed below her eyes and down her cheeks.

    This was not the beauty of life, but of death in an enchanting disguise. Styx retreated a step, eager to escape that penetrating gaze.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you flirted with a graceful ruin, Death,¡± Pestilence¡¯s voice was airy, more wind than substance. ¡°Because if you continue on this path, that is exactly what you¡¯ll receive.¡±

    All powerful god or not, Styx swallowed. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m done.¡±

    ¡°Wise choice.¡±

    Instead of transforming back to Rowan, Pestilence turned toward the table. Power rolled off her in waves, a terrible beauty that didn¡¯t belong to mortals. This was the strength of a god.

    Slightly intimidated, Styx considered transforming into Death, but dismissed it. There was no need, and the others might be concerned if they sensed two transformations. So Styx hid her discomfort and stepped up beside Pestilence to stare down at the paper laden table.

    ¡°Can you discern anything?¡± Styx asked.

    ¡°You mean other than your insolence?¡± Rowan replied, casting a sideways glance.

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    More of that captivating dark magic spread from Pestilence, encircling the papers. Only a second elapsed before they burst from the table. They flew about in a frantic frenzy before sticking against the wall.

    Styx stepped closer, reading them. ¡°Chronological order, very nice.¡±

    When some pages glowed blue, Styx studied them more. ¡°Is this accurate?¡±

    Behind her, Pestilence gave a sort of snort. ¡°My magic is always accurate.¡±

    ¡°Then we need to keep an eye out. There¡¯s a lot of movement around Olympus. Looks like chatter about a relic.¡±

    ¡°Which can be bad. Olympus has a lot of powerful magical relics. If the demons get their hands on any of them, we¡¯re doomed.¡±

    ¡°Great, but what¡¯s in the American Midwest? It seems like some demon activity centers there, too.¡±

    ¡°Corn.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t explain why the demons are there, same thing with Scotland.¡±

    Rowan bristled. ¡°They better stay away from my homeland. Because if they dare set foot on that sacred ground¡­¡±

    ¡°Looks like the Black Forest in Germany as well. I wonder what they¡¯re planning,¡± Styx said.

    ¡°Nothing good.¡±

    With that, Pestilence vanished in a flurry of dark tendrils and the snap of dissipating magic.

    ¡°Me and my people did this,¡± Rowan said, her voice tinged with sadness. ¡°We are the ones who botched that ritual and pulled them into this world. All the deaths and destruction are on my shoulders, as the last remaining of my clan. Seems like I was cursed even before¡­¡±

    Styx squeezed her friend¡¯s hand. ¡°No, you can¡¯t blame yourself. Even if your people were still alive. Rituals and spells go wrong all the time. That¡¯s the nature of dealing with magic and power.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t know that. Because it could turn out the original ritual was to summon them.¡±

    ¡°Doubt it. Druids weren¡¯t the type to summon evil forced from outside of the known realms. I completely believe it was an accident.¡±

    ¡°Everything from that time is gone, so I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll know.¡± Rowan let out a breath and glared once more at the papers stuck to the wall before leaving without another word.

    Styx exhaled and slumped to a chair. The reports stared back at her, taunting her with the expectation of failure and the sting of defeat. The demons would destroy them if they couldn¡¯t figure out what they were after. When the four horsewomen fell, Earth and all the known realms would be quick to follow.

    Still restless, she looked back at the pages. Just before she turned, a word caught her attention. Elysian.

 Shattered Sanctum

    The only way this very moment could be more perfect is if Styx was by his side. Tiny details made it the most excellent moment ever.

    A fresh bowl of chili lime popcorn, a new pack of pens, an untouched notebook with a pretty cover, and fluffy socks. It also helped that Styx visited him last night. They sat on the porch and had a fascinating discussion about ancient death and burial rituals.

    It was hard to decide which was his favorite. Sky burials in Tibet sounded epic, but then Japanese Jizo statues were awesome as well. He¡¯d never guessed that he¡¯d be so connected to an immortal being who could answer all his questions.

    Perhaps his next book should use Styx as its source. He scratched his chin. Titled: ¡°Echoes of the Reaper: Unraveling the Threads of Mortality.¡± A giggle escaped his lips as he squirmed with excitement.

    It was such a good idea! Because he was deathly afraid of forgetting great thoughts, he quickly jotted down the name on a paper.

    ¡°I¡¯m so happy!¡± He sang. ¡°Happy as a clam, sitting on a damn, wearing¡­uh, wham? No, that doesn¡¯t work. Oh! Eating spam! Yes!!¡±

    He bounced in his seat. ¡°I¡¯m so happy! Happy as a clam! Sitting on a damn! Eating spam!¡±

    Grinning like a fool, Caleb¡¯s delight was palpable, as if delight radiated from him. But, he did still have a deadline, so instead of bursting into yet another poorly sung song, he turned back to the manuscript he was studying.

    This book wouldn¡¯t write itself after all, and he¡¯d wasted enough time. Wiggling his toes and shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, he jotted down a few notes.

    It didn¡¯t take long before the words consumed him, and the outside world became lost.

    ¡°This exploration of the occult is an expedition into the very soul of mystery¡­¡± He chewed on a pen. ¡°No, that doesn¡¯t sound right.¡± He scratched out the last few words. ¡°Oh! A journey into the heart of mystery, where ancient wisdom and modern understanding coalesce into an intricate¡­¡±

    An earsplitting CRACK shattered the idyllic calm, and Caleb jolted violently. He toppled from the chair, pens clattering across the floor.

    ¡°What in the hell?¡±

    Intruders, they screamed. The ominous clinks and grinding pierced Caleb¡¯s core like rusted daggers, flushing ice through his veins. Reeling upright from his toppled chair, he blinked into the chilling confirmation. Peril hadn¡¯t come calling as a nebulous threat, but a snarling danger, laying siege just beyond these familiar walls.

    Caleb¡¯s knees dug into the unforgiving stones. His pulse roared as clammy sweat seeped through his shirt, terror taking root as the implications set in¡ªprotection charms wouldn¡¯t forestall whatever ruthless horrors awaited. Bloodied steel and fathomless danger awaited him, scraping at his threshold.

    With a sinking sensation, he knew this threat would tear life from fragile flesh and leave permanent scars. And all Caleb could do was await their merciless trespass.

    ¡°Keep calm. A sprite could be trapped in the wards. Everything¡¯s fine.¡±

    Ashamed of his cowardice, he stood on shaky legs, adjusted his rumpled shirt and blew out a breath. Yes, likely a false alarm. Nothing to see here. Move along, move along.

    After a furtive glance to ensure no one witnessed his mini-freak out, he cleared his throat and sat again. Just as he¡¯d picked up his pen, more grating clinks rolled forth.

    The nerve-rending screech of metal on metal seemed to drown out everything else. Caleb¡¯s back snapped rigid, eyes ballooning wide. Still, that horrible sound dominated the silence.

    ¡°Uh¡­this isn¡¯t good.¡±

    He calmed his breathing, willing the ragged gasps to slow into a normal rhythm. But when the alarm silenced, he shook himself.

    ¡°See, it was nothing.¡±

    Perhaps a dog got loose, or a heavy gust of wind. Yeah, that was completely reasonable. Still, it was better safe than sorry. It would be a colossal disaster if he let this breech go and it turned out something bad happened.

    Standing, he started toward the door when bells erupted, reverberating through the hallway above. Caleb froze mid-step, dread clenching feverish claws around his lurching heart.

    Rowan placed those alarms in his hallway and etched them with intricate runes. Their shrill resonance meant someone, or something, tripped the magical wards lining that corridor.

    Shit, things just got real. Because if they were going off, that meant¡­ More bells sounded, a deadly melodic chime. The sound built on itself, climbing into a chaotic reverberating crash.

    ¡°Shit,¡± he rasped, numb feet rooted in place.

    More bells ignited, their eerie sound building upon itself. A clamoring death knell that cleaved through mind and bone. The protective enchantments were failing. Evil crossed his threshold unchecked.

    Now, deep inside his chest, the panic firmly rooted itself. This wasn¡¯t a lost sprite or an errant gnome. It wasn¡¯t a dog or child. There could be one reason for these protective charms singing their alert.

    ¡°Demons,¡± he choked, taking the stairs two at a time.

    Movement caught his eye, and the shred of hope winked out in an instant. Dark magic bled down the walls in vicious streaks beside him, the sickly sweet stench flooding his senses. Ominous whispers echoed around him as he climbed ever upward, fingers trembling as they grazed the door.

    A supernova detonated against his body. Splintered wood and stone fragments tore into vulnerable flesh as he hurtled backwards down the stairs. Agony bloomed from a thousand shrapnel lacerations and blows from the unforgiving stairs. The very air cracked with mystical energy, scouring his skin.

    He hurtled backward, books crashing down to join his limp body. The unforgiving stairs collided against ribs and spine, momentum propelling his limp rag doll form down, down into unfathomable darkness.

    Finally, the icy floor slammed the breath from his lungs in a brutal landing. Intense flames engulfed him entirely, their fiery tongues dancing and flickering over every inch.

    Helpless before the onslaught, a ragged cry escaped his bleeding lips. Tears blurred his vision as he desperately tried to comprehend what hell had been unleashed.

    Then, through the swimming haze, malformed silhouettes converged above, spectral faces hovered at the edge of madness and reality.

    ¡°The human is cute,¡± a feminine voice said from the darkness. ¡°I want to squeeze the life out of him.¡±

    Caleb tried to move, but just flopped about before a massive foot pressed down on his chest. He coughed and spluttered, trying desperately to remove the weight.

    ¡°Perhaps later, Lilith,¡± someone said. ¡°Right now, we have plans.¡±

    ¡°But, Nyxen, you said I could play,¡± Lilith said, stepping into Caleb¡¯s sight.

    She was pretty, with a cute upturned nose and vibrant blue eyes. But Styx was way prettier, so he didn¡¯t worry about turning into a bumbling fool.

    But when a second demon approached, Caleb knew that wouldn¡¯t be the case for him. Because that demon was devastatingly handsome.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Human, meet Nyxen, the strongest demon on Earth,¡± Lilith said. ¡°His blood is from one of the oldest lines. You should consider yourself lucky to meet a demon prince.¡±

    This Nyxen character could easily seduce any man or woman with that face. Big, ice-blue eyes, a perfectly shaped nose, perky cheeks, full lips, and a well-defined jawline. He was the epitome of masculine beauty.

    ¡°Ohhh,¡± Caleb stammered. ¡°Can you have someone else do the threatening? Because you¡¯re so attractive, I might not be able to respond.¡±

    Nyxen smiled, making his face even more angelic. ¡°Perhaps I should use that to my advantage.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how,¡± Caleb groaned as he struggled to sit up. Unable to muster the strength, he flopped back down. ¡°Because I¡¯ll just turn into a stuttering fool and we¡¯ll be here all day.¡±

    Nyxen chuckled, a sound that was closer to heavenly than Christmas bells. ¡°You make a fair point, Asher.¡±

    Another demon materialized from the darkness. He was completely average, normal nose, brow, and blue eyes. Well, his lips were rather luscious.

    ¡°I can work with him,¡± Caleb said. ¡°I might stare at your lips. They look rather kissable.¡±

    Lilith giggled. ¡°They are.¡±

    Asher shot her a chilling glare that sent shivers down Caleb¡¯s spine. ¡°You¡¯ve never been, nor will you ever be, so lucky.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on,¡± a fourth demon appeared. Like Asher, he was completely normal looking. Except his lips weren¡¯t nearly as tempting. ¡°Remember that Asher is always cantankerousness.¡±

    ¡°I know why,¡± Lilith giggled. ¡°It¡¯s because his blood isn¡¯t as strong as our fearless leader.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because.¡± Asher glared at them. ¡°I¡¯ve been stuck with you morons for the last thousand years.¡±

    Lilith and Draven laughed, before a single look from Nyxen silenced them. Now that a few moments had passed, Caleb tried to rise again.

    Thankfully, this time, he could get his muscles to work. Sitting up, he groaned and moaned as he rubbed the various sore spots across his body. Blood darkened his shirt in several places, and there were tears in his new pajama pants.

    ¡°Awwwwww! Come on!¡± He pulled at the rips. ¡°I just got these last week, and they were so fluffy. Awwww!¡±

    ¡°I think destroyed clothes are the least of your worries,¡± Asher said.

    ¡°No, do you realize how hard it is to find really fluffy pants with a 38 waist?¡± Caleb stared at the demon. ¡°Because it is. I¡¯ll have to go back and see if they have more. All because of you!¡±

    Asher chuckled. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s because of you.¡±

    Caleb shook his head, but stopped when it hurt too badly. ¡°No, did I send a blast of magic through the door, sending myself crashing down the stairs? No. That was 100% you guys.¡±

    ¡°So sue us,¡± Draven said.

    ¡°Maybe I will!¡± Caleb crossed his arms across his chest.

    Lilith and Draven laughed together as they wandered off into the basement. Caleb grunted and wheezed, but eventually stood. He limped over to his chair and flopped down.

    ¡°Touch nothing,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve got some dangerous shit down here, and I won¡¯t be held accountable if you dissolve your hand off.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re rather unique, aren¡¯t you?¡± Nyxen said.

    Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. ¡°Fuck, the handsome guy said something to me. Shit, what do I say? What should I say? Something cool¡­no I can never pull that off¡­uh. Damn, it¡¯s too late. Now I¡¯ll think of a perfect response later. Ugh! This is the worst.¡±

    ¡°Not as pathetic as that relation of yours.¡± Nyxen picked up a vial of unicorn tears.

    Electric rage sprouted inside Caleb. No one, demon, god, or spirit, could speak that way about his Emma. Caleb grabbed a pen from the desk and jumped at the demon leader.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say such things if I were you!¡± Caleb flew toward Nyxen, pen brandished like a sword. He¡¯d stab the fucker.

    Asher yanked him away before he could get close to the demon prince. Caleb thrashed for another second before the pain got too much and he slid back to the floor.

    ¡°Will you please tell me what you want?¡± Caleb said, rubbing his bruised ribs. ¡°Because I¡¯m now in a bad mood.¡±

    Lilith snorted. ¡°Awww, poor human.¡±

    He glared at her. ¡°Take a drink of that bottle you¡¯re holding. It will make you so beautiful. Asher here will beg you to kiss him.¡±

    Lilith¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Sounds good to me.¡±

    Draven smacked it away. The vial fell and shattered on the floor. Little smoke skulls drifted up from the pooling liquid.

    ¡°See,¡± Asher said. ¡°Moron. Who would drink an unknown liquid off the word of a human?¡±

    Nyxen nodded. ¡°Seriously, Lilith. If there is one thing to learn, it¡¯s never to drink an unknown viscous material.¡±

    Lilith shrugged. ¡°It probably wouldn¡¯t have killed me, anyway.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Caleb said, grunting as he got to his feet again. ¡°That was my Abyssal Oblivion. Unless your insides were stone, it would have melted them. Hence the little smoke skulls.¡±

    Lilith grinned, a menacing and evil smile. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll dribble that down your throat when we¡¯re done with you.¡±

    Caleb ignored her and turned to Asher. ¡°Can we get this over with? I have a book to write.¡±

    ¡°Not anymore,¡± Nyxen said. ¡°Once we¡¯re done with you, I doubt you¡¯ll be alive.¡±

    ¡°Crap, the handsome one is talking to me again.¡± Caleb bit his knuckle.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting a little tired of this,¡± Draven said.

    Lilith held up an enchanted hand mirror to examine herself. ¡°Ditto.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Asher.¡± Nyxen motioned for him to continue. ¡°Let¡¯s get on with it.¡±

    Asher turned to Caleb as he sat back down at his desk. ¡°Tell us where the Creator¡¯s spell is.¡±

    Caleb rubbed his neck, trying to figure out what they were talking about. While there were still some Creator spells around, they weren¡¯t exactly common.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to be more specific.¡± Caleb tapped his lips. ¡°I think I have one about getting 8 hours of sleep, but I don¡¯t know where it is.¡±

    Asher slammed his fist down on Caleb¡¯s leg, right where the knee met the thigh. Shooting agony spread up and down his leg, and Caleb wheezed, doubling over.

    Asher came closer, his hot breath stinging Caleb¡¯s cheek. ¡°The spell you used to summon Death.¡±

    Everything inside of Caleb clenched and seized. Thoughts raced frantically around his mind as he tried to process the words. No, no! It couldn¡¯t be. No, it was a mistake, a joke. A cruel attempt at humor.

    He had to play ignorant for as long as possible. Because he refused to do that to Styx. These demons could destroy everything, even an immortal like Styx, and he wouldn¡¯t be complicit in her demise. They could tear him limb from limb before he¡¯d cooperate.

    ¡°Death?¡± Caleb squeaked. ¡°Yeah, no, sorry. I don¡¯t have any spells that powerful. Sorry.¡±

    A twisted grin spread over Asher¡¯s lips. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s your final answer?¡±

    ¡°Better think hard.¡± Lilith draped an arm around Draven¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Think real hard,¡± Draven snickered.

    ¡°Because if you lie to me again,¡± Asher¡¯s voice dipped low. ¡°You won¡¯t like the outcome.¡±

    Caleb gulped. He knew that these evil creatures could hurt him. They probably had special super-duper horrible things that could make him talk.

    Unable to stop himself, he rubbed the spot on his ribs where the heat of the soul bond simmered. If he could resist long enough, then Styx would come with the other horsewomen. They¡¯d save him, and he¡¯d thwart the terrible plans of these interlopers. That¡¯s the only plan that he could think of.

    ¡°No,¡± Caleb said, struggling to keep his voice calm. ¡°Sorry, that¡¯s not ringing a bell. Perhaps you have the wrong human? I know Hector Cyr, he might have it. That crazy fucker flirts with death all the time, so you¡¯d probably have some¡­¡±

    Asher flicked his fingers and a luminous azure sludge oozed forth, bisected with veins of midnight. Caleb recoiled as the vile substance splattered, sprouting hundreds of fibrous strands. The arachnoid legs skittered forth, ravenous and feeding off the demon¡¯s magic.

    ¡°Run away! Run away!¡± He scrambled back before those bristling fibers overwhelmed him in a tide of flashing heat.

    The arachnoid-like legs swarming Caleb¡¯s flesh left no agony unexplored as the magic bored through tissue and bone. White hot lances of blistering torment exploded behind his eyes. Muscles shriveled and bowed in anguish under the ruthless onslaught, fibers writhing against cramping bones.

    Bitter acid bubbled up his throat as nausea gripped his stomach, threatening to expel its meager contents as the virulent magic tunneled deeper. His thoughts scattered like panicked birds taking frenzied flight as the ruthless invader scraped away layers of sanity and self.

    Caleb clawed at his arms, desperate to rip away the bristling, sharp-legged horror dominating every inch of his being. But his limbs flailed uselessly, nerves alight with relentless misery. The ruthless magic would not be displaced, intent on infiltrating every darkened recess of mind and soul to enthrall him into an obedient husk.

    Asher cocked one eyebrow and flicked a finger. Caleb¡¯s arm jerked and spasmed, moving of its own volition to expose his desperate attempt to save Styx.

    ¡°There.¡± The traitorous mouth shaped the word, but the voice was Asher¡¯s, resonating from within his stolen instrument.

    The four demons looked to the bookshelf, narrowing in on The Princess Bride. As the demons plucked the book from the shelf, Caleb¡¯s fragile hope fell away.

    He crumpled, no longer captain of his fate, stranded behind unresponsive eyes brimming with silent, broken tears. Styx would be at their mercy, and it was all his fault.

    ¡°No, please¡­¡± Caleb¡¯s voice rasped, though only a pathetic mutter escaped his paralyzed vocal chords. His imagination spun out agonized visions of the horror about to befall Styx because of his weakness.

    He saw her slammed down and shackled by demonic magic, scythe just out of reach, her beautiful eyes overflowing with shock and hurt as evil hands closed around her luminous form.

    ¡°Styx, I¡¯m sorry!¡± he tried to scream. In his mind, she turned from the demons¡¯ grasping claws to meet his gaze, lips forming his name in despair, before malevolent shadows overwhelmed her divine light.

    Caleb pleaded with any power that would listen to rewind time, willing to endure endless torment if it meant averting this cataclysm.

    But the demons¡¯ icy laughter as they claimed their prize echoed immutable and eternal as any lord of Hell. Hope winked out like a crushed ember, leaving Caleb adrift in fathomless darkness.

    Only sheer hatred lent Caleb the strength to resist the calling abyss. Not for himself, but the anguished knowledge he¡¯d failed Styx when she needed him most.

    In the end, even stubborn defiance proved too little, too late. Asher hefted his limp body effortlessly, discarding him atop the etched pentacle.

    All Caleb could do was flop boneless on the cold, unyielding ground. The icy floor leached away remnants of will and strength as his shuddering mind replayed endless loops of what horrors awaited Styx.

    He conjured her face again, obsidian eyes overflowing with shock and hurt, her divine form bound cruelly thanks to his failure.

    The demons¡¯ casual voices were dull knives driving remorse deeper as darkness encroached on his buckling confidence. Now the end he always feared lay before him. Silent and alone, he slipped into the abyss¡¯s cold embrace.

 Panic Strikes

    Styx didn¡¯t need to tap into the soul bond to recognize Caleb¡¯s bubbly enthusiasm as it filled her chest. The warmth of his joy was conquering every corner of her being. No doubt he happily sat at his desk, surrounded by pretty notebooks, new pens, and fresh popcorn. Probably wearing those ridiculous fluffy socks he loved so much.

    In her mind¡¯s eye, she could see him bouncing in his seat, singing nonsense lyrics in his joy. He¡¯d make up rhyming songs until he got distracted by work. Then he¡¯d sit muttering about the proper phrasing of sentences. A smile tugged at her lips, unbidden and unwelcome. This was a serious meeting, and the other horsewomen would give her shit if they caught the goofy grin plastered on her face.

    ¡°What¡¯s that stupid expression for?¡± Rowan asked.

    Styx cursed herself for missing the druid¡¯s entry because of her distracted musings.

    ¡°It¡¯s that stupid soul bond,¡± Styx said, rubbing the spot on her ribs. ¡°We should start preparing to sever it soon. I can¡¯t stand these distractions.¡±

    Rowan shrugged, settling into her seat as the living wood table seemed to bend reverently toward the druid. Bark creaked and curled, leaves rustling in a phantom breeze to bask in her aura. Absently, she brushed a finger along the nearest leaf. It shivered at her caress, veins glowing emerald as braided twigs swelled with verdant hues.

    ¡°To be fair, I¡¯m not sure I want to try. Creator magic is very powerful and persistent. We could end up doing actual damage to both of you if we try to sever the bond.¡±

    Styx hissed her annoyance. It wouldn¡¯t work to be tied to a mortal. Not when their lives were fleeting and dull. Caleb didn¡¯t even have any magic! He couldn¡¯t go to the underworld or travel to most realms. It was like being attached to a rare moon sprite. Inconvenient and annoying.

    ¡°I don¡¯t accept that.¡± Styx shuffled the papers before her. ¡°I¡¯m a highly powerful immortal being¡­¡±

    ¡°The Creators themselves brought you into existence,¡± Rowan interrupted. ¡°And those same divine beings forged the ancient enchantment of soul bonds¡ªan enchantment mighty enough to traverse the boundaries of life and death. We¡¯d be foolish indeed to meddle with such primordial forces without fully comprehending the consequences. Everything could be at stake.¡±

    ¡°Steak!¡± Sorcha burst into the conference room. ¡°Who has steak? Is it perfectly marbled with just the right amount of fat?¡±

    Styx let out a breath. ¡°Sorry, Famine. Wrong kind. I¡¯m discussing cutting the soul bond with Rowan.¡±

    ¡°You wanna ditch your scholar?¡± Sorcha asked, sitting down at the table.

    As she settled in, the surrounding foliage wilted and withered. Leaves dried up and warped, while the wood adopted a hollow, gray hue.

    ¡°Not ditch,¡± Styx said. ¡°Just cut the connection.¡±

    The door shoved open so hard it smacked against the wall. ¡°I¡¯ll sever it!¡± Valerie brandished a heavy war ax. ¡°Tsunami Cleaver can handle that. It would be easy to separate the mortal¡¯s head from his shoulders. Then poof! No problem.¡±

    Sorcha snickered. ¡°No scholar either.¡±

    Immediate revulsion and fear burst forth, strong enough that Styx had to grip the table. Something inside of her screamed that if she let go, then she¡¯d end Valerie. Just for uttering those damn words.

    Rowan held up her hand. ¡°No, at this stage, ending Caleb would have a serious, detrimental effect on Styx.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Sorcha asked.

    ¡°Soul bonds are an intricate and powerful piece of magic. If one party dies, the other is seriously affected.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a bunch of mumbo jumbo,¡± Valerie said, sliding into an open seat. ¡°No magic is capable of that.¡±

    Rowan glared at her. ¡°Since you¡¯re the expert here. I¡¯m telling you, the soul bond isn¡¯t a superficial type of power. Evidenced because Styx can sense his emotions already. Just killing him would only bring her pain.¡±

    Styx REALLY didn¡¯t like this conversation. The more they spoke about killing the human, the more her insides were crawling. Just the idea of holding his dead body made her feel empty and sick inside. No, instead she focused on the bond. Caleb was hyper-focused. An intense wave of pleasure, contentment, and pride was flowing freely.

    ¡°It would be like Styx losing Death,¡± Rowan said, looking at everyone.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Valerie growled, rubbing her arms.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Sorcha muttered, looking at her hands.

    ¡°Can we start the meeting?¡± Styx asked. ¡°Has everyone gotten this chatting out of their system?¡±

    Valerie smacked the table. ¡°Hey, we can talk if we want.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we can talk if we want!¡± Sorcha put her hands on her hips.

    ¡°I, for one, am especially interested in this dude.¡± Valerie picked at her nails. ¡°It seems like strange timing. You¡¯ve walked the realms for billions of years and suddenly get a soul bond? And it¡¯s a human?¡±

    ¡°Seriously,¡± Sorcha said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better to be paired with another immortal? Fairy or Night Children? Why a moral man?¡±

    Rowan nodded. ¡°Agreed. I find it strange that the Creators singled out a human without magic to be your companion. Soul bonds are typically about finding an equilibrium between two powerful beings. In all my research, I have found no examples of such a lopsided bond.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Styx said. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s not about the human part and more about that summoning spell he used.¡±

    ¡°Which we still haven¡¯t punished him for,¡± Valerie growled.

    ¡°We might be missing the bigger picture here,¡± Rowan said. ¡°It could be time for the rest of us.¡±

    Both Valerie and Sorcha burst out laughing and leaned into each other. Tears rolled down their cheeks as they struggled to calm down. Sorcha snorted and coughed. Valerie hit the table hard enough to crack it.

    ¡°Just imagine,¡± Sorcha started. ¡°Valerie bonding to a pacifist who¡¯s never touched a sword?¡±

    Valerie laughed harder. ¡°A foolish man with notions of glory and heroic quests that fail within moments? I¡¯d go insane! Or you Sorcha, a farmer!¡±

    ¡°A farmer!¡± Sorcha snorted. ¡°Can you imagine? All that rotting food?¡±

    They laughed more.

    Rowan and Styx stayed silent. Rowan examined the feathers on her belt and fixed any imperfections. Styx clenched the table hard enough her fingers popped.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Styx shouted and sent a wave of magic across the room.

    Instantly, Sorcha and Valerie stopped.

    ¡°We have other things to discuss,¡± Styx said. ¡°Besides the human. Have you forgotten the demons and the havoc that they¡¯ve brought?¡±

    Both Valerie and Sorcha looked sufficiently cowed before Styx went on.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°Good, now, we¡¯ve been able to gather some reports about demon movement,¡± Styx said.

    ¡°It appears they¡¯re focusing on the portals,¡± Rowan said. ¡°We have increased sightings around them as well as traces of magical energy and remnants of rituals.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a bad sign, right?¡± Sorcha asked, chewing on a nail.

    ¡°Rituals?¡± Valerie interrupted. ¡°Aren¡¯t those for like doing stuff?¡±

    Rowan let out a breath. ¡°Yes, they¡¯re for, like, doing stuff. The prevailing theory is they¡¯re trying to shut them down.¡±

    Sorcha and Valerie gasped. Closing portals was forbidden due to one simple reason.

    ¡°If the portal is closed, the realm will die,¡± Styx said.

    The known realms relied upon an intricate equilibrium of forces crafted by the Creators, interdependent strands of magic binding reality itself. Sever but one thread by sealing a portal, and catastrophe unraveled.

    Should the demons rupture the meticulous balance between realms, the backlash would prove calamitous. Like a ravaged spider¡¯s web, each torn filament would further weaken the rest until total collapse. And untold devastation would follow for all connected worlds¡ªthe obliteration of life and nature itself should these underpinnings fail.

    A shiver of fear passed over Styx. The horsewomen were protectors of all the magical realms, including Earth. It was their job to protect all the known worlds.

    ¡°We have to ensure that doesn¡¯t happen,¡± Styx said. ¡°We all know and love the other realms, and we can¡¯t allow the demons to destroy any of them.¡±

    ¡°This is making me really nervous,¡± Sorcha said. ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of these creatures being able to influence entire realms.¡±

    ¡°Not just entire realms, Famine,¡± Valerie said. ¡°The known cosmos. This might mark the end of the Creators and worlds they¡¯ve built.¡±

    The silence was deafening as the devastating implications sank in. Reality itself was being unraveled by the demons. The Creators harnessed their magic to build the realms and all the wonderful things in them.

    That divine energy flowed within the Horsemen above all, binding the cosmic forces they personified. Its balance now teetered on the brink, threatening to plunge all creation into chaos should the portals fall.

    Bile rose in Styx¡¯s throat as visions of total collapse assailed her, of nature warped beyond recognition, her underworld fragmented with souls trapped in eternal limbo. No anchors remaining to preserve order or purpose amid the madness.

    Here, anarchy could reign unchecked, the laws that governed life and death unraveled completely. Even War, Famine and Pestilence combined lacked the might to restore balance once broken.

    Never had icy fingers of mortal dread gripped Styx¡¯s ancient heart so completely. Bearing witness as the world burned could drive her to madness. And should darkness prevail, humanity would face an apocalypse beyond the scope of even its most enduring nightmares¡ªthe absolute obliteration of life itself.

    It took precious seconds to realize a second truth. All this fear and dread wasn¡¯t just because of Rowan¡¯s warning.

    Caleb.

    She rubbed her chest, hoping to decipher the surprising flair of panic. It was so strong and unusual. Something born of genuine fear.

    Sharp, gutting blade. Foul, poison wine. Screech of rent metal.

    The acid tang flooded her mouth even as the coppery scent of blood permeated the air. Phantom pain lanced through her body. Her vision wavered with remembered shadows crawling forth.

    Caleb¡¯s racing heartbeat thundered in her ears, his ragged breath sawing in the stillness. Every nerve blazed with adrenaline, muscles wound tight as bowstrings about to snap.

    The onslaught of sensations threatened to drown Styx in Caleb¡¯s all-consuming terror. But she clung to that lifeline bond even as icy dread poured down her spine. Whatever horror had come for him, she had to get there in time. Caleb needed her. She would not fail him.

    ¡°Death,¡± Rowan interrupted her panic. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± Could she speak? Could she put words to this feeling? ¡°It¡¯s terror.¡±

    ¡°Demons,¡± Valerie breathed.

    No, no. Styx shook her head. It couldn¡¯t be those foul beasts. They wouldn¡¯t bother with a pathetic human. Someone who lacked magic and only dabbled in arcane sorcery. No.

    ¡°What do you need?¡± Sorcha asked.

    Styx blinked rapidly. What would she require? Everything. Flexing, a host of specters flooded into the room. Death sprites followed, their small glowing forms flickering. Even a pair of enchanted armors crashed in behind the group. Their metal bodies glistening under the florescent lights.

    Styx would bring an army with her, to save Caleb. Valerie grinned, that wide wild smile that always precipitated violence. Sorcha sat up straighter, her sickly magic bubbling forth.

    Rowan held out her hand, stopping them all. ¡°We need a plan. Every other time we¡¯ve faced the demons, it¡¯s gone poorly. We can¡¯t just swoop in and assume it will be different now.¡±

    Abrupt, wrenching pain caught Styx by surprise, fierce enough to double her over as she struggled to breathe. Agony cascaded around her ribs and clutched her muscles in a merciless vise, stealing the very air from her lungs. This couldn¡¯t be happening! She slumped over, arms wrapped around herself as if she could somehow contain the onslaught. Rowan was at her side in an instant, a steadying hand upon her back, though the gesture did little to ease the anguish threatening to consume Styx entirely.

    ¡°He¡¯s in pain all right.¡±

    ¡°No shit, Sherlock,¡± Styx wheezed.

    Valerie smashed her fists together. ¡°Let¡¯s go catch some demons!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to make them regret showing their ugly faces,¡± Sorcha said.

    Rowan only gave a curt nod, pulling a pouch from inside her robe. Sparing only a half-glance, she pulled items from various pockets and pouches.

    Valerie swirled her fingers, transforming into War. Then, with another shift of magic, a dozen small portals opened, and Valerie grabbed various weapons.

    Sorcha bounced on her toes, the sickly green swirling around. The odor of rotting wood and decaying leaves filled the air. ¡°We¡¯ll show them our might. Show them why they¡¯ve picked the wrong world to mess with!¡±

    Styx sucked in a ragged breath, shoving the spikes of fear and tendrils of pain deep down. She would have to concentrate if she was going to save him, and she would.

    All the demons who dared to threaten her soul bonded mate would suffer just as Caleb did. She¡¯d tear them limb from limb. Suspend them above boiling hot lava. Feed them bit by bit to Russ. Everything. Anything.

    These villains would witness firsthand why the world feared Death.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Rowan¡¯s shout grabbed her attention.

    Panic flared as something inside of her shifted. That same invisible thread was weaving around her again. The unknown was approaching. That contradiction of unsettling and comforting was too strong to ignore.

    Fate whispered, caressing the nape of her neck. A grand tapestry was being woven. Words were forming a destiny. But this destiny spoke of pain and torment.

    ¡°Death,¡± Rowan said.

    ¡°I have a bad feeling about this,¡± Sorcha said, her thin wrists slipping through the air.

    ¡°It¡¯s the same,¡± Rowan muttered. ¡°The same magic, the same spell.¡±

    Styx clutched her chest, her fingers splayed as if she could prevent the untamed magic swelling.

    ¡°Is this Caleb¡¯s doing?¡± Valerie asked. ¡°I¡¯m going to pulverize that sack of bones!¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Styx said, barely able to shake her head. ¡°No, it¡¯s not him.¡± She looked up at Rowan, knowing the fear that was etched across her face. ¡°It¡¯s not him.¡±

    She struggled to breathe, each inhalation a losing battle against an invisible force. The surrounding air burst into color. Dark purple. Diseased green. Vibrant gold.

    Her companions, her friends, were fighting to save her. But it was a battle that they couldn¡¯t win, no matter how hard they tried.

    Styx¡¯s throat constricted, and not just from the mystical forces compressing the air. The ragged shards of Caleb¡¯s dread throbbed inside her skull, shredding coherent thought. She fought to shut out the chaos, to isolate the warrior¡¯s fury that would steel her to confront the demon threat.

    Yet the anguished spike of panic and desperation assaulted her without remorse. Helpless to prevent the assault on her mortal scholar, she teetered at the precipice of divine rage. The need to rend and eviscerate any who dared harm Caleb roiled up from fathomless depths she scarcely acknowledged.

    Styx clung to the table as if it were her last tether before falling into the void.

    ¡°You can¡¯t stop it,¡± she wheezed, struggling to hold herself upright. ¡°We can¡¯t stop it.¡±

    ¡°But, Death,¡± Rowan pleaded.

    Then the air froze, suspended in an icy grip of destruction. Power rebelled, tossing and turning, lashing out with a vengeance unknown before.

    Creator magic spread across her skin, and behind her, the swirling portal snapped open. The grays and blues shifting in a menacing pattern. When that magical door opened, the soul bond strengthened. Like a direct conduit, and now the world was crystal clear.

    This soul-bond corrupted everything, altering her discipline by binding her to the fleeting existence of a frail human. Once this crisis passed, severing that liability would be her first act.

    So Styx told herself. But as Caleb¡¯s psychic screams reverberated down their connection, her finely honed restraint shattered. She gasped, staggered by the stark revelation of how profoundly this man had slipped past Death¡¯s defenses to clutch her ancient heart.

    The thought of failure, of losing his laughter and that crooked grin before she fully grasped their unfinished story rocked her to the core. This bedraggled scholar had kindled a light to banish the remoteness of Styx¡¯s endless reign. She could not lose him, not yet.

    ¡°Caleb,¡± her voice was a tortured gasp.

    Rowan grabbed at her, War held tight, Sorcha stood by, crying.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare go, Death,¡± War shouted. ¡°I¡¯ll never forgive you!¡±

    ¡°Please, Death,¡± Sorcha cried. ¡°This is going to be bad. We can¡¯t lose you!¡±

    Now Styx and fear were getting to know each other more. It was no longer the stranger it had once been. It anchored itself inside of her, weighing her down, denying the immense power she contained.

    That invisible force transformed into a relentless power, distinguishing itself from a mere command. It was a demand, a suffocating demand that tasted of blood and electricity.

    Her body receded, inching backward toward the destiny that waited. As Styx retreated faster, the resistance from her friends was nothing compared to it. Rowan¡¯s anguished gaze locked onto hers, a silent confession of failure swimming in the druid¡¯s fathomless eyes.

    Unable to reach out or speak, Styx remained captive as she continued backward.

    Rowan¡¯s face twisted into a tortured expression of hopelessness and depression. Then, like a volcanic explosion, light burst before Styx faded into darkness.

 Tapped Together

    No! Anything but this! Anguished disappointment curdled within Caleb as he woke, laying under that blasted winking dome. A prison of his own making. He was a fool for not destroying the summoning spell. Sinking dread erupted into choking panic as the realization dawned on him.

    The demons summoned Styx.

    A heartbeat later, directly above him, a portal opened. The swirling colors only spelled disaster and torment because he knew what would happen. Once again, they would force Styx into this trap. She¡¯d suffer anew because of his selfishness.

    ¡°Fuck! I should have destroyed that paper,¡± he screamed.

    Disappointment, hot and sharp, spread through his chest. Hopelessness, pungent and strong, gripped his heart. Fear, raw and poisonous, surged within him. But he was powerless to stop the oncoming storm.

    Then Styx emerged, divine form hurtling ruthlessly through the void before Caleb caught her, mere heartbeats from the unforgiving stone. Precious seconds elapsed before she turned her beautiful eyes to him. He anticipated seeing rage and vengeance in them. Instead, they only held a trace of fear.

    ¡°Styx, I¡¯m so sorry. Shit, I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    She didn¡¯t pull away, only pushed deeper into him. ¡°Don¡¯t. You aren¡¯t to blame for this.¡±

    ¡°But I am.¡± His voice cracked. ¡°I should have destroyed that paper. Given it to Rowan. Anything but keeping it. Anything but this.¡±

    Styx reached up and cupped his cheek. Their eyes locked, and he wished to every deity ever named that he could tell her how sorry he was. He couldn¡¯t voice those words, nor could he truly express his feelings.

    ¡°I¡¯ve failed you,¡± he whispered, and with each syllable, his heart broke more.

    ¡°No.¡± She held his gaze. ¡°You¡¯ll only fail if you give up.¡±

    A smile cracked his lips. ¡°I¡¯ll never give up protecting you. Even being a mortal with no magic. I¡¯d sacrifice anything and everything.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll never fail. Now, let¡¯s figure out a way to stop these damn villains.¡±

    He bobbed his head once. ¡°Just don¡¯t touch the barrier again.¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t on my battle plan.¡±

    Caleb helped her sit up. Already lines of pain were forming around her tense jaw. Flashes of a headache sprouted in his mind, a sign that she was suffering.

    ¡°They can¡¯t hear us,¡± Caleb reminded her. ¡°So we can talk.¡±

    Styx nodded. They both leaned forward, examining the demons. They were wandering through his basement uninhibited, picking things up, moving things, examining items. With each casual movement, Caleb wanted to shout and throw something.

    This was his sanctuary, and they had no right to treat it so casually. When Lilith dropped a vial of rare moon princess tears, he clenched his teeth. He promised himself that he¡¯d make sure that demon got her due. Perhaps he¡¯d spray some instant ugly on her face. Make her even more repulsive.

    ¡°What are they doing?¡± Styx asked.

    ¡°Messing things up.¡±

    She snorted. ¡°Sounds about right. Damn demons. Do you know what they¡¯re planning?¡±

    ¡°No, Nyxen or Asher said nothing to me.¡±

    ¡°Then we have to assume the worst case.¡±

    Caleb gulped. Tingles of anxiety wove across his back and clenched his spine. ¡°What are you thinking?¡±

    ¡°Me,¡± she said, her voice resigned. ¡°No offense. You¡¯re rather pathetic. But¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a super-duper powerful being, crafted from pure Creator magic.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Before he could speak again, the demons all gathered close. Ghastly faces pressed against the witching barrier. Flickers of color morphed their features, making them more grotesque. One reached out, a hand smearing bloody streaks on the trembling magic. The lines of red sizzled and sparked, sending bolts of white light dancing across the dome.

    In his arms, Styx trembled, and he held her tighter. Small beads of sweat were forming across her forehead. The thumps of pain deep in his skull were thudding relentlessly, echoing, and rippling without mercy.

    The demons spoke among themselves, their voices more reflections than substance. He tried to relax his grip. It wouldn¡¯t do to squeeze Styx to death.

    ¡°Remind me to¡­¡±

    But as Styx¡¯s stricken face faded, a jagged, frozen wasteland replaced it, her voice became lost and his vision to swim. Somehow, he knew this place¡ªa lightless abyss where the damned wandered eternally, every flicker of hope, each whispered dream of salvation crushed beneath infinite ice.

    No solace existed here, but eternal anguish. The fleeting scraps of pleasure should be impossible, their corruption unthinkable. Yet the frigid air held an incongruous tinge of sweetness, hints of cheerful notes teasing his senses instead of iron despair.

    With growing unease, Caleb noted slender shoots of emerald moss curling over ragged obsidian. No earthly plant should flourish amid these deathless shadows. Even more unsettling were the faint echoes of laughter, distant yet impossible to ignore.

    Wrong! His thoughts roared. This creeping infiltration of light obscenely eroding Hell¡¯s endless dark was an affront to the cosmic order itself. Unease slithered through Caleb like a chill wind; even long-held certainties now seemed threatened by this unnatural decay undermining the impervious gloom blanketing the damned.

    A burst of pain jolted him from the vision, and he looked around in confusion.

    ¡°Where did you go?¡± Styx asked, her hand gripping his arm.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it was icky.¡± He shivered, the unease rippling through his body.

    ¡°My head hurts.¡±

    ¡°I know, and I wish I could stop it.¡±

    He tasted bitterness on his tongue. The acrid tang of being utterly useless while Styx endured unseen torments. Not only had he doomed Styx to this fate, but he was powerless to save her. If she died¡­

    Nausea crept through his gut, icy tendrils of anguish clenching deep. The thought of cradling her extinguished form¡ªobsidian eyes glazed and lifeless¡ªshredded his soul. It would snap his sanity like a rotten beam.

    Because even as Death, she was his light. The smile on her tantalizing lips. The curve of her shoulder. The ring of her laugh.

    Without her wry humor, her brave compassion, he would plunge into fathomless darkness, a muted world leached of warmth. Only embers would remain where once her spirit burned incandescent.

    He would drift, a hollow ruin, haunted by her last struggling breaths. Neither success nor joy could ever stir him from that pit of despair. Not even death could offer escape. No relief awaited in eternity from the memory of her slack and empty face. A shade condemned to roam realms growing inexorably colder and darker without Death to guide tired souls¡¯ home¡­

    ¡°Caleb.¡±

    Her voice silenced the cascade of dark thoughts. Unable to stop himself, he beamed.

    ¡°You called my Caleb.¡±

    She gave him a soft pinch. ¡°Don¡¯t read into it, Cal.¡±

    Now wasn¡¯t the time to kiss her, but god damn he wanted to. Unable to experience that, he shifted her weight, so she pressed even tighter against him. Then he swore that she¡¯d never feel this kind of pain again. It didn¡¯t matter what he had to sacrifice.

    Before he told her, a resonant thud spread through the dome. Styx flinched at the sound, and he looked up with hate in his eyes. Nyxen was leaning close. A cruel smile stretched across his lips.

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    ¡°Look at the lovebirds,¡± he said.

    ¡°You know, nasty demons always get their comeuppance,¡± Caleb said.

    ¡°Remember, he can¡¯t hear you.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°But I can hear you,¡± Nyxen replied, that annoying smile still on his lips. ¡°Demons operate by a different type of magic, remember? This is a pathetic Creator spell, and therefore far below us.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, now I can insult you freely,¡± Caleb said, puffing out his chest. ¡°Douche bag mother farm fucker.¡±

    Styx giggled before coughing. ¡°Farm fucker. That¡¯s great.¡±

    Nyxen shrugged. ¡°Branches and rocks.¡±

    ¡°Uh, it¡¯s sticks and stones,¡± Draven corrected him.

    Nyxen shot the lesser demon a death glare so chilling that it even made Caleb shiver.

    ¡°Should we get on with everything?¡± Nyxen asked, glancing at them.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Caleb said. ¡°Because the sooner we start, the sooner we can kick your ass.¡±

    ¡°No one messes with Cal and gets away with it,¡± Styx said.

    ¡°And here I was being so excited she called me Caleb,¡± Caleb sighed.

    ¡°I doubt you¡¯ll escape this,¡± Nyxen smashed a fist down on the dome.

    Magic sparked and fizzled. The vibrations rippled downward and seemed to shake the very foundations of everything. Caleb held onto Styx as she whimpered and groaned.

    This loathsome leader was grating on Caleb¡¯s last nerve. So he composed a mental checklist of exotic torments to one day repay the overbearing demon. Powdered unicorn horn would corrode that smug fa?ade. Mandrake root stuffed into the walls would ensure shrill screams punctuated every attempted rest.

    That would teach him!

    Caleb shoved a finger toward Nyxen. ¡°Let¡¯s take a step outside. I¡¯ll show you how strong humans really are.¡±

    ¡°You have to admit,¡± Draven said. ¡°This mortal sure has some big round hairy cojones.¡±

    Lilith giggled and fanned her face. ¡°I bet he¡¯s an excellent lover. Look how attentive he is.¡±

    ¡°Can we focus?¡± Asher snapped. ¡°You seem to forget that Death has companions, and they won¡¯t hold off long.¡±

    Caleb almost smacked himself. He¡¯d forgotten all about the other horsewomen. They¡¯d be searching for Styx. Hope blossomed in his chest. All they needed to do was delay them.

    ¡°Except, Asher,¡± Nyxen said. ¡°Remember the wards we placed? That will block any magical signal from Death or the human. The others will need a considerable amount of time to locate them.¡±

    And the hope was gone. Caleb wanted to cry. Because if there was interference, the others couldn¡¯t find them.

    ¡°They¡¯ll discover us eventually,¡± Styx said. ¡°Rowan is powerful.¡±

    ¡°That puny druid?¡± Asher snapped. ¡°Doubtful. She has not yet fully accepted her limitations. Therefore, she¡¯s inadequate¡­¡±

    Nyxen held up his hand and Asher was silent. ¡°But you have a point. The wards won¡¯t last forever. Let¡¯s get to the main event.¡±

    ¡°Oh, goody!¡± Lilith clapped. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see her reaction when we tell them.¡±

    Nyxen leaned closer to the barrier, and somehow the swirling seemed to calm. His face was nearly perfect, the ripples of color blurred and bent around him. Making it seem as if he was pure and untainted.

    Caleb clenched his fist, rage blinding rational thought. The desire to smash this smug bastard¡¯s sneer into scarlet ruin consumed him. Only the consequences for Styx stayed his hand rather than pummeling Nyxen into a wheezing, flailing wreck. The demon prince deserved nothing less for his vile hubris.

    ¡°I doubt you¡¯ve been able to guess what we¡¯re up to,¡± he said, looking at Styx. ¡°Because you¡¯re rather limited in your thinking and capabilities.¡±

    ¡°Just because we lack your depravity,¡± spat Styx.

    ¡°No, because you have no idea what real magic is capable of.¡± Nyxen let a few drops of something splatter against the dome.

    The magic reacted instantly and violently. The corrupted power sizzled the instant it struck. Forked veins of cobalt and vermilion spread across the dome¡¯s shimmering surface. An acrid stench like scorched metal overwhelmed the enclosed space.

    Without warning, coruscating energy detonated outwards. Savage arcs of energy lashed Caleb and Styx¡¯s helpless forms. They scarcely had time to cry out before being slammed into merciless stone, eyes seared by violent flashes brighter than a lightning strike.

    The magical bombardment continued. Razor shards of light peeling skin from flesh while aggressive threnodies of power pummeled their organs. Blood vessels burst and nerves caught fire as the environment itself turned traitor. Molten agony flowed through every cell, seeking total dominion.

    Just when the sensations threatened to short-circuit into shock, the assault paused¡­only to rip through them with redoubled fury. The tortured air grew talons, shredding robes, and memories alike. What remained became lost somewhere between subatomic particles torn asunder and the primordial chaos preceding existence.

    Caleb¡¯s being unraveled faster, with each rift torn in their plane of reality. But before conscious thought could fully give way, everything ceased, leaving only echoes of half-remembered suffering lingering behind Styx¡¯s bloodied face.

    He could feel a trickle of something hot drip from his nose. With a swift motion, he wiped away the blood, his eyes locked in a fierce glare at the menacing demon.

    ¡°See?¡± Nyxen¡¯s voice sliced through the overwhelming feelings.

    Caleb held Styx tighter as he struggled to calm his ragged breathing. In his arms, Styx moaned and clutched herself. It was almost like he could see her very form rippling and bending.

    ¡°Now that I have your attention, listen up. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed that we¡¯ve been collecting specific types of magic.¡±

    Styx gasped. It had never occurred to him it was magic they were after.

    ¡°But that¡¯s not possible,¡± Styx said, her voice still quivering with pain. ¡°It¡¯s not possible to collect magic.¡±

    ¡°That will be your little secret,¡± Lilith said with a smirk.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been draining and harvesting the magical essences of the various creatures found in his disgusting place,¡± Nyxen continued. ¡°But we¡¯ve run into a bit of a pickle.¡±

    ¡°Stupid limitation, really.¡± Draven picked at his nails.

    ¡°We needed something stronger. Something more potent, and you two gave us the perfect thing.¡± Nyxen smiled once again.

    Caleb really REALLY wanted to punch his face now.

    ¡°The soul bond.¡±

    Styx gasped and flinched in his arms. Caleb couldn¡¯t believe it.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Styx asked.

    ¡°See,¡± Nyxen said. ¡°The soul bond is a very rare and powerful magic in these realms. Its foundations are even stronger than the power we possess. It¡¯s a key component in what we¡¯re seeking to do here.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡± Caleb asked.

    ¡°None of your business,¡± Draven responded.

    Nyxen didn¡¯t hesitate before continuing. ¡°It¡¯s strong enough that when the human accidentally summoned Death, it sent ripples across the entire world.¡±

    ¡°We were lucky that we were in¡­¡±

    Nyxen cut Lilith off with a single look. The demon spluttered and flushed before turning away, and Nyxen continued.

    ¡°Once those indications spread, we knew our plan would succeed. When we harvest the soul bond from you two, we¡¯ll have a critical component. All thanks to the bond that united the two of you. So, I guess we should thank you.¡±

    ¡°It was perfect timing,¡± Asher said. ¡°We had reached an apex in our work here, and this magic will be the key to realizing our plans.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m rather hoping that the other horsewomen will be similarly afflicted.¡± Nyxen grinned. ¡°Harvesting multiple soul bonds will allow us to accelerate our plans.¡±

    ¡°That will never happen,¡± Styx said, her body tensing. ¡°Even if you end me, the others will not go easily. Besides, there is no guarantee that they¡¯ll have soul bonds.¡±

    Nyxen shrugged. ¡°You might be right, but even with just your soul bond, improvements will happen.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t get away with this,¡± Caleb hissed.

    ¡°Why does everyone say that?¡± Draven moaned. ¡°It¡¯s so clich¨¦. Come on! We¡¯ve already gotten away with it. Do you see any opposition? No? Neither do I.¡±

    ¡°Even if you slice the bond, and end us, there are three other horsewomen, and a host of other powerful magical entities to stop you,¡± Styx said.

    ¡°Yes, and I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll provide some small measure of entertainment,¡± Nyxen said. ¡°But as proved by every other encounter, demon magic is vastly stronger than Creator magic. So we¡¯ll win. When we¡¯re standing over your corpses, there will be no one left to oppose us.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll throw a party.¡± Lilith and Draven leaned together and laughed.

    ¡°Are you ready to experience what a dissolving soul bond feels like?¡± Nyxen asked.

    ¡°If you hurt her,¡± Caleb growled. ¡°I¡¯ll go to the ends of the earth to end you in the most painful way possible.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s so cute,¡± Lilith cooed.

    The fiends arranged themselves around the dome at equal intervals. Styx looked to Caleb, who racked his mind for words of solace that could ease her tense dread. But he couldn¡¯t think of anything to say.

    As the arcane chanting swelled, icy certainty gripped his heart. The chance to spare her this fate had slipped beyond reach. Now only his inadequate mortal form stood between Styx and oblivion.

    Their gaze locked in wordless despair as the occult rhythm built. With each verse, the encircling demons drew blood from their flesh, dripping crimson ribbons upon the barrier.

    The markings flared menacing red, heartbeat pulsing in sinister sympathy with the dread churning within Caleb. Invisible claws grasped his soul, stretched taut enough that sanity itself threatened to snap.

    Bursts of pure magic exploded, golden lightning seeking any outlet against the confines of the ritual. The very fabric of reality protested, warping and bending without mercy.

    ¡°Caleb,¡± her voice was thin and weak.

    He understood her intent when twin streams erupted from behind their left ribs at that moment.

    A molten crystalline platinum seeped from him. Styx¡¯s color was dark, yet it possessed a captivating opalescent sheen.

    The two flows of energy thrashed as if trying to retreat from each other, then flashed a fierce silver where they met before settling into muted gray tendrils leeching into the demons¡¯ rune-work.

    Heavy sobs sprouted from him, everything was stinging violent and tainted ruin. But Styx¡¯s ridged form dwarfed his anguish.

    Her fathomless eyes glazed over, and her body wracked by death throes. That¡¯s when he knew Styx was being unmade. The radiant tapestry of her immortal spirit was shredding strand by strand.

    Caleb strained against the magic leashing him, raging to save what fragments remained of her unraveled essence. But the ritual continued until a shattered gasp tore from Death¡¯s bloodless lips.

    Darkness engulfed Caleb¡¯s mind as the ritual crescendoed, a savage cacophony drowning out Styx¡¯s anguished cries. He clung tighter, but some malevolent force pried back his fingers.

    The inked runes flared angry fissures across reality, bathing the dome interior in malevolent hues. Then Caleb¡¯s sight wavered, phantom images congealing around Styx¡¯s form. His breath caught at half-formed glimpses of her fierce grace rendered fragile, mocking echoes of her immortal strength fading faster than mist under sunlight.

    Horror flooded Caleb¡¯s mind as the scene solidified. Styx sprawled limp across the unforgiving stone, ichor pouring from too-still limbs. Her eyes were dull and distant, reflecting emptiness instead of their usual defiant gleam.

    With brutal ferocity, the vision clarified further. The metallic tang of blood was thick in Caleb¡¯s mouth, though no wounds marked his heaving body. He could only clutch tighter at his dying beloved, screams tearing his throat raw while rivers of anguish carved canyons through his heart.

    Just when Caleb thought his fragmenting sanity must join Styx in death¡¯s embrace, a last surge of power slammed through them, made merciless by the vivid agony of loss. Then the vision collapsed, returning them gasping to the demons¡¯ clutches. Grief¡¯s claws left ragged furrows no magic could mend¡­for Caleb glimpsed eternity sundered in those lifeless immortal eyes.

    No. No. NO! He¡¯d fight to save her. To prevent this. No matter what it cost him.

 Breaking Bonds

    Styx never thought to curse magic before. That mystical force had always been a benefit, an asset, something to treasure. But now, as the forces ripped her apart, the treasured power became a torrent of torment. She could feel it splintering through her veins, icy shards splitting cells. It was inside of her muscles. Bolts of electricity that constricted and sent rippling agony outwards. It had permeated her very essence with sensations she¡¯d never experienced before.

    Magic was destroying her. How could it betray her like this?

    With each second that elapsed, the dark, swirling color continued to ooze from her. It was equal parts fascinating and terrifying to watch the ribbons seep outwards. Despite living with this power for eons, she¡¯d never seen it manifest in this way, flowing beyond her control. And these demons were stripping it away, without care or concern.

    Rage fought with the pain. They clashed and bit, fighting for dominance in an ever-growing abyss. Yet, another emotion added even more muddy confusion, sorrow.

    Were these her last moments? One thought took form. Caleb. They would miss out on so much together. They¡¯d never grow and experience life together. They¡¯d never have a first kiss. They¡¯d never sit on the edges of a molten lake watching souls wither and spark.

    As if recognizing her thoughts, Caleb clutched her tighter. His embrace was so tight that she lost all sense of where her body ended and his began.

    ¡°Styx,¡± his voice pleaded, whispered in pure desperation.

    ¡°Caleb, I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, her voice was more whisper than form. ¡°I should have saved you. I¡¯m sorry I was too weak.¡±

    He made a sound, almost like a chuckle, but rimmed with pain. ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to save me.¡± He trailed off as he tried to summon the strength. ¡°I¡¯m just sorry this is our last moment. I would have liked¡­¡±

    She grabbed at his shirt, her fingers struggling to sustain the ability to hold on. Yet, she felt an overwhelming desire to be close to him, to share with him. Even if this was their final moments, at least they were together.

    ¡°Perhaps we¡¯ll get a chance to try this again.¡± He looked down at her. ¡°Then I¡¯ll make you my famous blueberry muffins.¡±

    A trace of a smile cracked her dry lips. ¡°As long as you make enough. Remember, I¡¯m good at devouring.¡±

    ¡°You can devour all you want.¡±

    Her words didn¡¯t come as the demons spoke faster. The molten crystalline platinum continued to bleed from him. It swirled in a mesmerizing pattern that ebbed and flowed like dancing snowflakes drifting across a silent mountain landscape.

    Where their vibrant colors intertwined, they melded and twirled in a mesmerizing display, creating a symphony of hues that seemed to sing. Dark and light in a captivating ballet. Instead, it was just a symbol of their failure and the demon¡¯s success. Despair now tainted what should have been beautiful.

    A fresh wave of torment crashed over Styx, an endless tide threatening to pull her into oblivion. Razors laced each breath, slicing her lungs to shreds. The coursing magic burned in her veins like acid, seeking to dissolve muscle and marrow until only charred fragments remained.

    Against her will, a ragged whimper tore from her throat as the pain crescendoed again, an electric spike impaling her heart. The stench of scorched hair and blood smothered her senses. She wanted to beg for mercy, but locked her jaw, refusing to give the demons that satisfaction.

    ¡°Do you see that?¡± Asher¡¯s voice was startling. ¡°It¡¯s both beautiful and terrible.¡±

    Styx had almost forgotten the evil entities on the other side of the magical dome. Every part of her, each tiny shred, and infinitesimal spark, hated them at this moment. If only hate was its own power. Then she could smash the prison and exact her vengeance. If only.

    ¡°That is the magical essence of you, Death,¡± he continued. ¡°Because the Creators formed you, that power is more potent. Notice how Caleb¡¯s is less striking.¡±

    ¡°Much less,¡± Lilith said. ¡°The human contains no traces of magic.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s surprising that a pathetic creature could attract a being of power,¡± Draven said. ¡°Perhaps she¡¯s just desperate.¡±

    Caleb glared up at the demon with righteous fury. For a fraction of an instant, his eyes seemed touched by auroral fires. Styx blinked away the pain dimming her vision, unsure if she had imagined an ancient power kindling in his gaze. Perhaps the torment was finally unraveling her sanity.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you all,¡± Caleb hissed from behind clenched teeth. ¡°Each one of you. I¡¯ll never forgive you for this.¡±

    Nyxen laughed. ¡°We¡¯ll never ask or seek your forgiveness, human. You¡¯re pitiful and weak. You¡¯re nothing compared to the might of a demon.¡±

    ¡°Eventually, demon,¡± Styx spat. ¡°You¡¯ll come to understand why the four horsewomen inspire fear.¡±

    ¡°Doubtful,¡± Nyxen smiled. ¡°We¡¯ve killed gods of this realm before, and we will again.¡±

    ¡°Remember Lyra?¡± Lilith snickered. ¡°Pathetic.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll give her dominion over your soul in the next life,¡± Styx said.

    Lilith laughed more. ¡°Except demons don¡¯t have souls, not like you, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Lilith, hold your tongue,¡± Nyxen snapped. ¡°I will not have our secrets exposed to the unworthy.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve worked hard to accumulate all we have,¡± Asher said. ¡°If you ruin it by flapping your gums, there will be a reckoning. Our plans have not yet come to fruition, and things are still delicate.¡±

    Lilith looked away and muttered something Styx couldn¡¯t hear. Nyxen met her gaze, and Styx tried to channel all the venom and hate she could. ¡°They¡¯re sufficiently weak. Let¡¯s move on.¡±

    Styx could feel the truth of that in her very essence. It was evident in the quivering of her breath and the shudder of her heart. It was clear in the weakness of her muscles and the way her body sagged.

    Caleb shifted, attempting to shield more of her. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Since I don¡¯t have magic, they can¡¯t take from me.¡±

    She tried to resist, to move him aside. Because she didn¡¯t want him to suffer more, suffer for her. The thought caused her soul to ache. She¡¯d rather protect him. Besides, between the two of them, she was the god. It was her responsibility to defend humans.

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    The Creators gave her that task when they formed her. Being so impotent made her feel like a failure.

    ¡°Caleb, I forbid you,¡± she commanded.

    A weak smile struggled to form, a sad excuse for the beaming expression she enjoyed so much. Now he covered her completely, using his body to shield and protect her. He was so close, closer than they¡¯d ever been before.

    She stared up at him, and their eyes locked. For an instant, the agony ravaging her senses abated, leaving only Caleb¡¯s rugged yet hope-filled features visible through the dancing magic lights reflecting across his face. The contrasting colors of their essences made him glow like a dream¡ªher dream vision of connection made manifest.

    As if attuned to some unheard melody, the elegant tendrils of their power swirled languidly, cocooning the entwined pair in an ephemeral sphere removed from surrounding torments. Here, it was them, alone, while the world faded.

    Ensconced in this temporary refuge, a profound rightness resonated through her ravaged frame. She existed for him just as he was crafted for her; two fragmented souls refined by cruel fate to complement each other.

    The Creators had known they would find one another across endless mortal lifetimes. They could have spent forever wrapped in this intimate embrace, closer than either had been to anyone before.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been alone for so long,¡± she whispered. ¡°Not lonely, but alone.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, I know what you mean.¡±

    ¡°Late at night, watching the souls of two lovers, I didn¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad it was you, Styx.¡±

    ¡°Caleb, don¡¯t say that. It sounds like goodbye.¡±

    ¡°I think it is.¡±

    The chanting intensified. A flash blinded her, and she blinked away the spots. When her vision returned, she gasped. There was a prismatic aurora-colored ribbons twisting lazily between them. Almost as if it was a living organism, it moved like strands in water, yet didn¡¯t blur together. It was markedly different from the magic still coming from them.

    As if sensing the fresh addition, the dark opalescent sheen from Styx, and the molten crystalline platinum from Caleb, approached the new power. They danced in a kaleidoscope of movements, guided by rhythms known only to immortal senses. With dream-like diversion, they twirled through elaborate sequences. One second, they spun in energetic pirouettes, only to melt and coalesce once more.

    ¡°That¡¯s the soul bond you two share,¡± Nyxen said. ¡°It¡¯s a powerful force that neither the demons nor the Creators formed.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s impressive,¡± Draven said, ¡°and will bring us so much closer.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Lilith cooed, almost seductively. ¡°Feel its raw strength. This will be a great asset.¡±

    Styx stared at the beautiful display hovering between them. Caleb¡¯s eyes went wide, his mouth gaping in wonder. Now it all made sense. The heat behind her ribs after Caleb summoned her that first time, the lingering power that never became dull.

    It was a shame that the demons would taint this dazzling expression of unification.

    ¡°No.¡± Caleb¡¯s voice couldn¡¯t even be called a whisper. It was more a fragment, an escaped verbalization of thought. ¡°I won¡¯t allow it.¡±

    Twisting her so that he was completely on top, the power escaping from her had nowhere else to go. Her eyes went wide as the dark essences of herself seeped into his chest. The colors were changing, morphing from their crisp entities into something new.

    ¡°Caleb, don¡¯t. I don¡¯t know what will happen.¡± She didn¡¯t have to speak loud. They pressed together so closely that she could feel every contour of his body.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I¡¯ll do anything for you Styx, anything to prevent them from winning.¡±

    ¡°Stop. Now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d gladly sacrifice myself for you. To keep them from anything of yours. They¡¯re not worthy.¡±

    She wanted to say, ¡°you¡¯re worthy.¡± But the words didn¡¯t come. Instead, the sound of chanting became louder. Drops of something sparked against the dome, causing more agony to erupt across her.

    The vibrations were pulling relentlessly until she was numb. Caleb yelled out, as he grabbed onto her. The colors moving reacted as well. Their usual pristine and crisp forms were growing muddy and confused.

    All the sensations were becoming overwhelming. The cold of the ground. The heat of his body. The stench of burned hair. The traces of blood. The sparks of power. The roar of magic. The sizzle of chanted words. She was drowning.

    I won¡¯t allow this. I refuse. I refuse.

    Styx startled, unsure where that voice was coming from. She was too far away from the others to hear them.

    I¡¯ll save her, damn it. There is no way I¡¯ll let them win. No.

    Then it hit her. Caleb.

    He flinched and looked down at her, his eyes wide. This shouldn¡¯t be possible, especially with the demons siphoning off their power and the bond. They shouldn¡¯t be able to talk telepathically at this stage. Unless¡­

    Yes, she could feel it now. Despite these villains trying to pull the magic from them, it was becoming more entrenched. Stronger. More potent.

    Caleb, let me go.

    His expression questioned her, begging for more information, but she didn¡¯t know if she had the strength. Because she was about to do something stupid. No, it was beyond stupid. Still, she had to try.

    What in the hell?

    Caleb eased away from her, confusion written across his face. Questions flashed as he stared at her, begging for answers. All her muscles quivered as she braced herself. Squeezing her eyes shut, she focused on the glowing embers of her power.

    Magic was everywhere around her. It was in the dome that glittered above them. It was in the surrounding air. It was being spoken. She would harness it, craft, and mold it. Because she would not surrender. No matter what, she wouldn¡¯t give up.

    Together, she and Caleb would escape this place.

    ¡°I am Death!¡± She screamed. ¡°I am horsewoman of the apocalypse. You with NOT defeat me.¡±

    The very air became electric, sparking and sizzling as she pulled the strands of magic close. Styx screamed, the sound ripping from somewhere deep within that had remained untouched since the dawn of creation. She could feel the power permeating every shred of her essence pulsing in resonance, reaching an unendurable crescendo.

    The ribbons of light streaming from the pair towards their captors flickered as Styx fought against her failing strength. She clenched her jaw so hard the muscles strained and ached. But that fueled her, added to the combining forces. Blood roared in her ears, matching the racing tempo of her heart.

    Just when oblivion loomed close enough for her to taste its bitterness, a roar like a raging comet tearing through the firmament erupted from her core. Blinding luminance flooded the chamber, devouring all shadows. A new sun now blazed where once stood an exhausted goddess.

    Her tattered clothes whipped about in a sudden tempest, swirling with debris. The air thrummed with power, lifting each strand of her hair as though to bear witness. Each insignificant sound ceased, plunging the basement into deathly silence as Death surged into being.

    Like iron called to a lodestone, those sources of magic raced across the chamber to sink into Styx¡¯s glowing form. Her back arched and a silent scream tore from her throat as ancient forces re-knit fiber by fiber. Too bright to gaze upon directly, she became vengeance incarnate, the living embodiment of ancient influences.

    ¡°I am older than civilizations!¡±

    The nimbus of power condensed into a blazing nova, hovering at the cusp of detonation. The air thrummed with terrible potential. Then, with an earth-rending roar, the energy erupted outward in a shock wave of primordial fury, casting everything in apocalyptic brilliance.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen dynasties fall!¡±

    The dome enclosing them shuddered once before detonating into a storm of razor-edged shards. Caleb flung up an arm, but still fierce lacerations slashed his flesh. The flood of shattered power became a specter tide, glinting crimson and white, until Styx alone blazed at its epicenter.

    The concussive force battered their forms. Caleb¡¯s gasp of pain vanished in the bone-rattling din. His body slammed into unyielding stone while debris rained relentlessly. A thousand bursts of energy turned the air into a plasma sea, blood and magic intermixing.

    Death stood, enshrined in darkness, divine fury personified. Crackling magic still raced across her form, seeking any lingering weakness. Her eyes flared dangerously as she turned towards their tormentors with icy purpose etched upon her terrible countenance.

    Then it was gone. Snapped off in an instant. She crumpled, the flowing cloak of darkness vanished, leaving her shivering in its wake. Her vision dimmed. The force needed to rally such power drained her beyond comprehension.

    Caleb stumbled over to her, spots on his arms bleeding crimson red. She wanted to brush it away, apologize for causing such injury, but nothing emerged.

    Now the demons recovered and were facing him. But she couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t help. All she could do was lay there, watching him stand protectedly over her. A menacing laughter spread over the gathered demons as one foggy form raised his hand.

    So it was all for nothing. She got them out of the dome, but she was too weak to do anything else. They¡¯d die now. All she¡¯d done was delay their ending. Styx wanted to beg Caleb for forgiveness, but she could only watch.

    Blue lightning forked between Nyxen¡¯s fingers, casting Caleb¡¯s defiant silhouette in merciless relief. He squared his shoulders to meet the killing blow head-on.

    Powerless, Styx strained against the darkness claiming her, desperately clinging to consciousness. She had to fight on and save Caleb now that he had sacrificed everything for her.

    But as her eyes drifted closed against her will, a single tear traced down her cheek. Because she realized with despair beyond words that her failure had not only doomed them, but the demons would desecrate Caleb¡¯s noble soul as well.