Dread spread across Caleb’s chest, its icy clutches gripping him as he struggled to stem the flow of blood from Styx’s too-still form. How could this be happening? Fear and panic sent shooting spikes of despair through his core. It didn’t matter that his own wounds were dripping red crimson on the stones. All that mattered was Styx.

A ragged gasp wracked his chest as the air became too thin. Black mists crept across his vision, ashes of their extinguished forever clouding sight, each frantic second marked by fleeing cinders. Shadows edged closer as their bond heaved its last death throes. Now the truth was unavoidable, her demise sealed his.

It was startling and astonishing to see the burst of power that Styx displayed, shattering the spell holding them hostage. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was Styx, and making sure she survived the aftermath.

Stone bit into his knees, but he refused to move. Cold stung his wounds, but he didn’t pause. The scent of copper blood assaulted his senses, but he stood firm. Deafening silence pounded his ears as he struggled to make out the shallow rasp of her breathing.

Only she mattered.

A force slammed into him, knocking him back and away from her. As he struck something solid, he gasped and spluttered. The demons! How could he forget?

The four menaces were standing triumphantly above him, their twisted faces grinning with triumph.

“I’ll kill you!” Fury incarnate, he dove at the leader, claws bared and vengeance poised on the tips of his fingers. He would make them suffer for what they’ve done. By any means necessary.

Nyxen flicked him aside with a casual movement and again he went skittering into the wall. More thudding pain slammed into the back of his skull as glass rained down, slicing him anew.

One demon chuckled, but Caleb didn’t relent. If he could keep their cruel intentions fixed upon him, perhaps it would buy Styx precious seconds to recuperate and escape.

“Burned popcorn is better than you!” He yanked a wine bottle from the shelf. The heavy clear substance sloshed as he threw it as hard as he could.

The bottle flew and slammed into Draven. When it struck his chest, it exploded in a crystal ringing of glass shattering and a puff of smoke. Draven yelled out and batted at the sticky liquid that now coated his torso.

“Eldertorch,” Caleb sneered. “It’s powerful enough to harm even you fuckers.” He spat a mouthful of blood on the stones.

Draven spluttered and hissed, as he frantically tried to get his clothes off as the Eldertorch singed his flesh. Ignoring the commotion, Nyxen and Asher turned on him. Sparks of blue sprouted on Nyxen’s fingertips.

“You’re rather devoted,” Nyxen chuckled. “It’s pathetically endearing.”

“It will make his death more honorable, at least,” Asher said. “That’s one merit for him.”

“I’ll hang his skin from my wall,” Lilith snarled. “That will be a true honor.”

“He won’t have skin left,” Draven hissed, his body still smoking, with rivets of boiling blue blood dripping down his torso.

All the rage and fury snapped out as Caleb focused on Draven. He was holding Styx up by her hair, a blue blade pressed to her throat.

“No!” He didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause, as he barreled through the demons before smashing into Draven.

[https://i.imgur.com/BX4doHj.png]

The sword in the demon’s hands clattered to the stone as they rolled about, jabbing and striking each other. Caleb no longer felt any physical pain. His entire body was just a mass of wretched, searing, and sharp bolts.

“Stop!” The voice was thunder and the roar of an avalanche. Even the walls seemed to shudder at the resonant magic in the commanding tone.

Powerful hands yanked him up and dangled him several feet off the ground. Still, Caleb fought, kicking and thrashing. He wouldn’t surrender until he had emptied the last drop of his lifeblood onto the floor.

Nyxen’s beautiful face twisted in fury, but Caleb wasn’t done. He spat again. A mouthful of red struck the leader. But instead of wiping it away, Nyxen licked and smiled.

“You and Death will die here.”

“You’ve got that wrong.” Caleb kicked out. “You’ll die here! A thousand times! A million…”

Then a blue blade was hurtling towards him. Somehow, the movies got it right. Time slowed, it inched painfully as he watched the tip inch closer. It would be a fatal wound and his time on this earth would come to a close.

But, at least now he’d learn was came next. It was, after all, the only great adventure mortals could take.

Ignoring his oncoming death, he looked to Styx. Even covered in blood, she was pretty. Her dark hair sprawled across the stone, and he regretted so many things at that moment. Regretted not being able to see her smile once more, or seeing her hair spread across his pillow. Regretted all they’d now never have.

Then the world detonated.

[https://i.imgur.com/9DjvjkE.png]

Everything imploded outwards, as rock and wood and glass erupted. The very molecules seemed to dissolve in the cataclysmic rent, tearing reality asunder. Everything was chaos, without form or substance. The atmosphere shrieked as a shock wave of power slammed through the crumbling architecture.

In a heartbeat, sunlight and fiery glory immolated the stagnant chamber, devouring any and all. Time itself seemed to inhale as gouts of dragonfire etched fractal designs of impending woe, scouring all shadows into shrieking oblivion.

Caleb careened uncontrollably forward. Shards of stone bounced off his flesh, shards of glass bit into his skin, and slivers of wood embedded into his body. Finally, he skidded to a stop, struggling to control the wracking coughs that devoured him.

Through the mist and smoke, three fingers emerged, and he knew who they were. The other horsewomen had arrived.

[https://i.imgur.com/Cm72ICp.png]

A dragon bellowed, its roar making the remaining structure shudder. The air rippled with the tremendous sound, sending dust and ash raining down. Fire was spreading like a disease. It licked at the wooden shelves and devoured paper. His sanctuary was rapidly vanishing in cinder and ash. But Caleb would gladly forfeit every book and scroll to see Styx open her eyes.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“What?” One shouted. “No one invited us to this party! How rude!”

Caleb blinked, trying to get the debris from his eyes. If the explosion was chaos, then it was pandemonium now. The four demons were scrambling, pulling blades from their bodies and hissing threats.

A terrible diseased bear growled as a woman dismounted, and he recognized her. Rowan. Another beast pawed at the air, and a woman stepped off. A strange mist clung to her. He had to assume that was Famine. And that left War.

Again, the dragon spat its terrible fire, and the demons recoiled. But before the rolling destruction could strike him, Famine came closer. She extended her hands and a fine curtain of something spread around him.

“Styx!” He cried. “Get Styx! Forget about me. Don’t let her get hurt!”

A wiry smile spread across the thin woman’s face. “We will protect her human. Don’t concern yourself.”

“Don’t concern myself,” he shouted. “Don’t concern myself! Who the hell do you think you are, telling me not to concern myself?!”

“I’m Sorcha, Styx is my sister, and if I say don’t worry, don’t worry. Like we’d burn her,” she snorted. “Just stay away from the mist. It will rot your flesh.”

Before he could respond, the noise of mental singing as it hissed through the air distracted him. Caleb flinched as the sound seemed to reverberate through the destroyed room.

“Oh!” War yelled. “Rowan and Asher are going at it! In public too!”

Sorcha snickered, and Caleb winced as he sat up. Rowan and Asher were trading blows just a few feet away.

“Rowan better watch herself,” Sorcha said. “She’s not as versed in the sword as Valerie.”

“Valerie?” Caleb questioned.

“Valerie is War. Her mount is Typhon, the blood dragon,” Sorcha answered, pointing to the red dragon and his rider.

Caleb’s mouth went dry as the striking druid, Rowan, crossed swords with Asher. He’d never witnessed combat so fiercely graceful. They spun and struck like violent serpents hell bent on destruction.

A visible shiver coursed through Rowan at each ringing caress of steel against the vile demon magic. Steel sang once more as Rowan parried Asher’s savage strikes, the clash of their swords reverberating through the decaying chamber.

Asher smiled, a menacing grin more like a predator than friend. “Seems like you’ve been practicing.”

“I have.” Rowan slashed the tip of her sword, tracing a line down his arm. Boiling blue blood bubbled out as it dripped.

He masterfully twisted her sword aside to open her guard. “This is rather fun foreplay.”

Rowan roared, and let her rage take too much. Asher slashed down, and the blue blade slid towards her. Valerie snickered as her blade caught it, slamming it back.

“What have I told you?” Valerie said. “Emotions, man, emotions! You’ll lose every time. War is a dispassionate endeavor.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Rowan spat as she stumbled back.

Then Nyxen was there, a twisted smile on his handsome face. He swung his terrible sword with a fierce downward strike. Asher mirrored his movements. Caleb tensed, readying himself to see Valerie injured. But her flawless skill never faltered, steel keening brightly to answer each ruthless blow.

Her wings flared wide to hold the air as she spun through their ruthless barrage. Though they sought to hem her in, she turned defense to offense with flawless skill. Her blade finding marks to release sparks of white and gold.

Nyxen raced forward with unnatural speed, and Asher matched as they assailed War once again. Valerie grinned, obviously welcoming their wasted fervor.

With a reverberating scream, she went on the attack. Her golden blade slid down Nyxen’s side, wounding him. Bellowing, he unleashed some sort of magic that sent Valerie and Asher staggering backwards. But she grinned savagely, snapping her wings wide to steady herself.

A blinding flash bit the air, and Caleb hissed, covering his face.

“Cowards! Fucking cowards!” Valerie bellowed.

When the bright flashes faded from his eyes, he blinked up at the empty basement. Valerie was pacing, her blade still bubbling with blue blood. “They ran away like yellow bellied chickens! Cowards!”

Typhon roared and snapped at the air, mirroring her movements.

It was then that he realized the demons were gone, and now all that remained was destruction and blood.

“Styx!” He scrambled to his feet, his muscles screaming in protest.

[https://i.imgur.com/VbZLB3c.png]

He scampered over the spots of debris and avoiding the patches of fire. Styx was laying where she had first fallen. When he reached her, he thudded against an unseen barrier. Momentarily dazed, he clawed at the invisible substance, desperate to reach her.

“Better let it down, Rowan,” Sorcha said. “I think he’ll hurt himself.”

With a snap, a crackle of magic sliced through the air. Without that support, he crashed to the ground, narrowly missing striking Styx.

“Styx.” He cradled her. “Styx, it’s okay now. The others are here. You’ll be okay, right?” Caleb looked up at the three other faces crowding around. “You can help her, right? Please?”

Rowan pursed her lips and crouched next to Styx. “Give her here.”

Caleb clutched Styx tighter, loathe to surrender his lifeline a second sooner than absolutely necessary. Valerie placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, steeling him.

“I know you care for her. We all do. But we’re losing her, and only Rowan can stop that now.”

Every fiber of Caleb’s being screamed in discordant protest, but he forced rigid fingers to relax…inch by inch, peeling back, until Rowan finally eased Styx’s limp form from his arms. He crumbled to the floor beside her, unable to withstand even those spare inches of separation.

“Give her some space to work.” Valerie dragged him away, and he staggered back.

“But…” He gulped. “But…”

“You’ll just get in the way,” Sorcha said. “That will do Styx more harm than good.”

He rubbed his neck, unwilling to admit the truth.

“Typhon, help us out,” Valerie said. Typhon snorted and stomped his foot. “Don’t give me that attitude. We don’t want to burn the entire neighborhood. I know you love fire and hate extinguishing it, but this isn’t the time or place. When we get home, I’ll let you burn down an entire forest.”

The dragon shook his head, and Valerie stomped her foot. “Now! Or I’ll hide your hoard again!”

With another snort, Typhon glared and batted his wings several times. The flow of air washed over the remains of his house and the remaining flames fizzled and died. Caleb slid to the ground.

It was painful to see the destruction. The smoldering books and piles of charcoal. The fire charred and cracked the stone. It seemed there was no surface that was untouched. Even the main house was nearly gone, only a charred skeleton of beams and struts remaining amid the wreckage.

Tears dripped down his cheeks. “My books are gone.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Valerie said. “You can replace the books.”

“No, I possessed very rare books that could never be replaced. Original grimoires from covens across Europe, South America, all over. Those can’t be replaced. I was their guardian.” He sniffled. “And I failed them.”

Rowan glanced up at him and twisted her fingers. A burned segment of the wall vanished.

“Oh! My collection!”

The rows of rare grimoires, books, and scrolls were unharmed. There were still some lingering traces of smoke and sparks of magic, but they were whole!

“That was a thank you for finding and returning Sealochrann,” Rowan said.

“Thank you! Stars, thank you!”

“It’s my pleasure to help you.”

“Can I ask a favor?” Caleb looked at her. “I know it’s probably selfish of me to ask for more, but will you keep them for me? Until I can find a safe space for them?”

Rowan gave a quick nod, and the books vanished.

“Is Styx okay?” Caleb asked, grabbing onto her hand.

“I’m not sure if okay is exactly the right word,” Rowan said.

“What do you mean?” Now that nervousness appeared again. Styx should be perfect that her sisters were here.

Sorcha stepped closer. That strange mist that followed her curled around the bits of wood still intact and ate away at them. “Death is an immortal magical creature, born of necessity. She was one of the first ever created. Therefore, she has a very special and incredibly rare type of magic.”

This sounded bad, and Caleb tried hard to stomp down the anxiety rising in his chest.

“The demons altered that magic,” Rowan continued. “The bastards messed with the very fundamentals of it.”

“Is she…” he couldn’t finish.

“Death cannot die,” Rowan answered his question. “But Death can and will fragment into the fundamental elements that form Death.”

‘Think, grief, loss, sorrow, pain,” Sorcha said. “All the elements that compose death.”

“Which means the destruction of the world,” Valerie said, cracking her knuckles.

Never mind the world. The idea of Styx fragmenting made his entire being ache. It was a discordant note, a tremendous weight that made it hard to breathe.

“If she fragments, you’ll die, because the soul bond will shatter and dissolve as well,” Rowan said.

“As it should be, I won’t live without her.” Caleb gently took her unconscious form from Rowan, cradling and protecting her.

Rowan stood, moved her hands as a portal formed. Without speaking, he followed into that blur of blue and gray.