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Kiss of the Reaper
Protect the Vulnerable

Protect the Vulnerable

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

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—until 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.

[https://i.imgur.com/214QMJv.png]

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.

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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.

[https://i.imgur.com/MlZc01b.png]

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—devoid 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.

[https://i.imgur.com/sJz52zi.png]

“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…”

[https://i.imgur.com/UrYc91Z.png]