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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.”
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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—her 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.”
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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.