image [https://i.imgur.com/9jEhhwL.png]

Styx felt like shit. No, that wasn’t descriptive enough. Styx felt like three-day-old dog shit flies had ravaged. Smushed and smeared, she was just a fragment of her former self left to bake in the scorching sun. Yeah, that about covered it.

As she opened her eyes, the familiar sight of the Dead Depot greeting her unexpectedly. This is where the recently deceased came to be categorized and escorted. Worn industrial carpet covered the floors, though errant scorch and gouge marks hinted at the temperaments of past visitors resigned to a small eternity within its taupe walls.

Bland walls gave the room a sterile and detached feeling, with intermittent cherry posters that tried in vain to motivate—“Hang In There!” displayed against the white. Plastic chairs lined the walls, several occupied by the recently expired peering at her with wide, questioning eyes through translucent forms. Most seats were empty, awaiting the next influx of souls needing placement in the underworld.

Her favorite feature, a lava fountain, belched molten rock in the room’s center. She found supreme comfort in the rolling and churning mass of red and black. The door to the underworld was open, allowing a glimpse of the unique waterfall stairs she designed. As tendrils of that realm’s ancient magic gently seeped through, they caressed the room, casting a soft glow that brought blessed relief.

That distinct warmth filled her, a comforting balm battling against the aches and pains plaguing her weakened essence. Like the play of sunbeams after an icy rain, she immediately relished the glow of familiar devotion, kindling her senses once more from the inside out.

As she absorbed the healing powers of her home realm’s gentle caress, another source became evident. A white hot simmer just behind her left ribs. Without a doubt, she knew the source—Caleb must be nearby. That longed-for lifeline now pulled her steadily back across the divide. She squeezed his hand, just to confirm it was solid flesh instead of a fading vision.

image [https://i.imgur.com/7a904MG.png]

When her gaze finally found him, she nearly erupted in rage. He was sleeping against the wall, and looked like he’d battled the demons by himself. Numerous cuts and wounds decorated his flesh, some still oozing red. The damage he had endured was clear from his clothes, which were torn and singed beyond repair. Swelling bruises desecrated his pale skin, and each blemish caused more rage to boil upwards.

She would kill the demons, every one of them. Slice them from nose to navel. Chop them up bit by bit. Peel flesh from their body. Break every bone. Drown them in lava. Freeze them in ice.

Styx would end them in every way possible and torment their souls for eternity.

Caleb’s eyes shot open, and instantly they found each other. It wasn’t just sweet relief, no; it was so much more profound. Sweeter than Charon’s age-weathered voice crooning across midnight waters, guiding weary souls finally homeward once more. More dear than the sounds of a thousand tormented souls crying for mercy. They had reunited and rewoven the very fabric of their souls.

She’s awake!

Styx let out a breath, never before so thrilled to hear someone’s thoughts reverberate within her own. Even muted by pain, that sound sparked a wild joy. A rush of warmth banished the memory of icy despair from her immortal veins.

“Cal...” His name, usually so causal on her tongue, now felt like a benediction and a homecoming wrapped in human flesh.

He didn’t argue as she pulled him closer. He lowered himself carefully as one who craves yet dare not believe the long-sought miracle suddenly within reach.

With a tug summoning her last bold strength, she pulled him down fully into her arms. He collapsed atop her in a tangle of delight and care not to crush, a bolt of pain barely noticeable beneath their exultation. At last, true healing warmth filled her senses once more. A beacon against encroaching night lit by the mere flicker of his overjoyed heartbeat against hers.

“I’m so sorry,” he crooned into her neck. “I should have destroyed that paper, and I didn’t. It was selfish. There’s nothing I can ever do to repay you.”

She swatted him softly. “No, everything happens for a reason. Fate is a powerful magic.”

“But I caused you so much suffering.”

“The demons caused that, not you.”

“But!”

“No, but I know something only you can cause.”

He leaned up and looked at her, questions in his eyes.

“Kiss me.”

That crooked grin she loved so much spread across his lips. “I can do that.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/BrmJBYx.png]

At first, he was gentle. A soft hint of passion. Just a mere indication of what could be. Then, without warning, his kiss morphed into blistering, reckless desire. A bolt of pain spread across her back and she sucked in a breath. Caleb looked panicked as he stopped and pulled away.

“Fuck, I’ve hurt you.”

“No, no, you’re perfect.”

He sat back slightly and puffed her pillow, adjusted a poultice, and brushed a strand of hair from her face. A smile spread across her lips. He was being such a cute mother hen.

“I’m not being a mother hen,” he scowled, as he straightened out her shirt sleeve.

“Right.” She smiled more. “I need to leave you here for a short time.”

He bolted upright, wincing in pain. “What? Where? Why? You can’t leave. Why are you leaving me? Can I come? I should go. Take me with you. Please!? I don’t wanna be without you!!”

Despite the pain in her chest, and the uncomfortable pull of her sore muscles, she burst out laughing. Of all the dry and insignificant humans, she’d bonded with the most entertaining one. Perhaps this soul bond wasn’t such a burden after all.

If Caleb made her laugh in this state, then she had great hopes for the future. Because Death loved laughing.

“I’m going to the underworld to recover,” she said. “As a mortal, you can’t come with me.”

He stuck out his bottom lip, pouting. “But I want to stay close to you. I’m not sure I could handle being apart right now. It still feels funny inside.” Caleb rubbed his ribs.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Styx knew what he was talking about. The slight heat behind her ribs had morphed into something else. Nothing sinister, at least she hoped not. But that sensation was unfamiliar, sharper perhaps.

“The underworld doesn’t accommodate mortals, especially those lacking magic. Perhaps if you were a powerful witch, I could agree. But the magic there will end you. It’s a place of death, remember?”

He crossed his arms, a look of defiance on his face. “Don’t care. Where you go, I go.”

“Cal. Do we need to address boundaries? I will not have a clingy human hanging on me everywhere I go.”

Instead of looking at her, he glanced away. “I know I’m being clingy. But the thought of being so far away from you makes me want to cry!”

“I understand.” She took his hand. “I feel the same way. Having you close is helping, but Caleb, the underworld can kill you.”

“It’s a risk.”

“No, it’s a fact. Mortals cannot withstand the magic of the underworld.”

“Well, we are soul bonded. Perhaps that will help.”

“Are you really willing to risk that? If you die…” A shiver passed across her. The idea of holding his lifeless body was revolting.

He rubbed his neck. “I guess, but it’s not instantaneous, right? I mean Orpheus, Heracles, Aeneas lived.”

Styx smiled, the movement stretching her bruised face. “Myths, remember? But there have been a few mortals over the years who have lived. They just don’t stay for long, and are usually really sick afterwards.”

Caleb perked up. “See! I can go!”

She eyed him. It was a risk. The underworld was a scary place for mortals. Hell, sometimes it was a scary place for her. But it seemed he was determined to accompany her, and she would recover faster down there.

“Fine, but you’ll listen to everything I say.”

Caleb clapped enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Alright…”

The waiting room door burst open. Caleb shrieked and hid behind her before relaxing. Sorcha and Valerie laughed hysterically and pointed at him.

“The mortal screams like a girl!” Valerie snickered.

“That’s an insult to girls!” Sorcha laughed. “He screams like a dying puffer fish.”

“That’s an insult to puffer fish,” Rowan added, stepping in behind them.

“What were you doing?” Valerie asked, leaning close to Styx. “I smell sex.”

Caleb made a choking sound and turned bright red. He stammered and looked away, playing with the edges of his shirt.

“Eww, you were having sex?” Sorcha grimaced and stepped back.

Styx growled and glared. “Don’t be jealous. Just because I’ve found someone to satisfy me, while the three of you are competing for the longest dry spell.”

“Stop it,” Rowan said. “They didn’t do it. They’re both in terrible shape, neither of them could perform well. It would be a lackluster coupling.”

“If it wasn’t sex.” Valerie examined Styx closely. “I bet he was sucking her face.”

Sorcha and Valerie leaned together and laughed. “Styx and Caleb sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes bonding, then comes eternity, then comes baby deathlings precious!” They sang in unison.

Styx threw a ball of light, but Caleb scratched his head. “I don’t get it.”

Rowan glared at him. “Bonding, sex, tiny baby deaths. Which isn’t possible. Death can’t reproduce.”

“Oh!” He grinned. “I like that version better. I never really subscribed to the whole brainwashing ideals of that rhyme.”

“You’re not half bad,” Valerie said, smacking him on the back.

He flopped forward and grimaced. Styx glared at Valerie, but she shrugged it off.

“Why are you all here, ruining my moment?” Styx asked.

Sorcha wiggled her eyebrows. “So there was a moment. Guys, we interrupted the moment.”

Before Valerie responded, Rowan silenced them with a look. “Caleb refused treatment earlier, and now that you’re awake, I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Styx glanced over at him. He just shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you were safe first.”

Something strange tickled her chest. It wasn’t magic, instead it was an emotion. Pleasure, probably. It was so damn adorable that he’d refused treatment until she was safe. Completely stupid, but still something adorably endearing.

“Well, now that I’m okay.” She waved Rowan forward.

“Shirt off,” Rowan directed.

Styx laughed at the panicked expression that spread over his features. Caleb looked at everyone and clutched his arms tight around his chest. A red filled his cheeks as he stammered something unintelligible. Was her stalwart scholar actually being shy? Wait…when did she start to think of him as her man?

“The human is embarrassed,” Valerie snickered. “Not like we all haven’t seen a hundred million man bodies. I’ve sliced my fair share, after all. Swords cut the muscled ones really nicely. It’s like all that taunt fibers just snap. Glorious sound too, like a twang.”

Styx snickered at the horrified expression on his face.

“That might be,” Caleb said. “But I’m unique. I’d rather not broadcast…”

Rowan snapped, and his shirt was gone. He shrieked and tried to hide. Styx had to appreciate the first glimpses of his chest. While not chiseled and honed to precise perfection, there was something captivating about his curves. With little room to maneuver, Caleb was eventually cornered. Rowan glowered as he tried to hide himself.

“Dad bod,” Valerie said. “Boring.”

“Really? That’s what all the fuss was about?” Sorcha rolled her eyes.

Leaning into one another with carefree intimacy, Valerie and Sorcha left the waiting room. Locked arm in arm, they meandered down the hallway with languid synchrony, their raucous laughter echoed off the walls and before slowly fading.

“Now, can I heal some of these wounds?” Rowan asked, her eyebrows arching up.

“Yep!” Caleb relaxed.

Styx now had to control the rage that was once again sprouting inside of her chest. There were many injuries across his body. Some were still bright red and weeping crimson. Great bruises were spotting his skin. Rowan didn’t make a sound as she kneeled before him and started whispering words.

Her dark purple magic crawled forward, and to his credit, Caleb only looked a little nervous. But that just meant that he had good sense. Anyone in their right mind would be nervous at the slight. Styx watched each microexpression as Rowan worked.

It took more time than she was comfortable with, but finally Rowan sat back. “I’ve done what I can. You’re not healed all the way, but you won’t be bleeding either.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Rowan gave a quick nod before turning to Styx. “Have you healed?”

“Somewhat. There is enough residual magic coming from the open doorway I’ve healed the most serious. But I’m not 100% yet.”

“Are you going down?” Rowan pointed to the doorway.

“I am once you’re done here.”

“You’re not taking the human, are you?” Rowan asked.

“Uh, the human is demanding I take him.”

Rowan whipped about and glared at Caleb. He shrunk from her gaze. “Are you a complete moron!?”

“Yes! I don’t wanna be without her.”

“He should be fine as long as we don’t stay down for long,” Styx said, waving Rowan off.

“Should be? Are you willing to gamble his life on “should be”? Because that’s a risk.”

“That’s what…”

But the door flying open interrupted Styx. It thudded against the wall as Valerie and Sorcha swooped back in. Instantly, Caleb covered his chest again.

“What in the hell?” Styx growled.

“We have a problem,” Sorcha said.

“A big problem,” Valerie added.

Styx perked up. Usually Valerie underplayed issues, so for her to label something as a big problem meant it was probably huge.

“What happened?” Rowan asked.

“A least three realms are inaccessible,” Sorcha said, a worried look on her face.

That got her attention. “What do you mean?”

“Meaning,” Valerie said. “The portals have vanished and we can no longer sense any of the magical energy from the realms.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Styx clenched her fists. “This is a big problem.”

“Why?” Caleb asked.

“Portals aren’t just for transportation,” Rowan said.

“They’re also a magical conduit.” Styx looked at him.

“Without an active portal connecting those realms,” Sorcha said.

“Those realms will slowly fade and eventually snap out,” Valerie said.

“Snap out?”

Valerie smashed her hands together, the loud sound echoing through the room. “Gone.”

“Eliminated.”

“Terminated.”

“Silenced.”

“Oh,” Caleb said.

Styx hissed in pain as she eased herself upright. They had to protect the realms, injured or not; that was their duty, and it was needed now more than ever.

“What are you doing?” Caleb asked. He stumbled as he shot across the room to help her sit up.

“I’m going to investigate,” Styx said.

“No way!” Rowan said. “You’re too heavily injured and haven’t recovered enough.”

“Yeah,” Sorcha said. “If we encounter any problems or complications.”

“You’ll be much more of a hindrance,” Valerie said. “We can’t worry about defending you and the human.”

Styx tried to hide the pain rippling across her body as she stood from the cot. Standing at her full height, she glared at each of the horsewomen. They all looked away, muttering their own acquiescence to her force. Caleb said nothing else, probably feeling her determination through the bond.

“I’ll come too!” Caleb said. “After I get a shirt.” Styx glared at him, but he didn’t relent. “No, I’m not being left behind.”

She didn’t want to argue. “Fine. Let’s go get Bony.”

Caleb trembled a little. “Uh, Bony?”

“My horse, Bony,” Styx said.

Valerie snickered. “He’s afraid of bones!”

“No.” Caleb puffed out his chest. “I’m afraid of horses! They don’t like me. I always get bit and stepped on.”

Sorcha and Valerie laughed. “Afraid of horses.”

Styx shoved them through the door before holding her hand out to him. Caleb grinned as he accepted it. She tried not to lean on him too much as they walked through the hallway. If this was true, if the portals between realms were closed, then the implications were dire. She would persist until she solved this.