[https://i.imgur.com/PwFTvfV.png]

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—teetering 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—answers 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—the 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.

[https://i.imgur.com/6PozUff.png]“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—yet another strange happening around town recently.

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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—irritation, 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.”

[https://i.imgur.com/eVDa0W5.png]

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.”