His eyes pierced the gloom, finding hers with tangible relief. Styx battled the drowning exhaustion that still plagued her immortal frame, but the Underworld’s embrace was a welcome balm, rushing to great its goddess once more. Whispers of the damned carried tantalizing secrets and hopeful salvation alike on ashen breezes. Each stony edge bowed glad tidings with jagged edges. And somewhere deep in swirling gloom, a melody only for her—hollow chanting backed by mournful strings, welcome Death home.

That crooked smile she loved so much spread across his lips. “Hi.”

She grinned back at him. Then reality crashed down. She started to squirm and fidget. Caleb gripped her just a little tighter, refusing to let go. It was startling to realize that she enjoyed feeling protected. It was especially surprising because no one, man or myth, had ever carried her like this.

Since the world began.

Since mortals appeared on the surface.

Since the Creators pulled together mist and magic to create her.

And fuck, she loved it.

“Are you going to let me down?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“No. I’m finding this especially enjoyable. Besides, you just woke up. I’m sure you’d like a little chance to rest.”

“Cal, you can’t be down here.”

“Rowan gave me an amulet.”

She shook her head. Rowan’s magic was powerful, but the Underworld was more. “Doesn’t matter. The darkest magic and brightest power made this place. It will rip you to pieces.”

“Perhaps.”

She snorted. “Perhaps, he says, perhaps.”

“I’ll risk my sanity for you. I’ll risk my life for you.”

An explosion of something foreign burst across her chest. No one had ever spoken those words to her. They’d cursed her. Praised her. Desired her. Feared her. But they’d never risked everything to see her safe. That, she realized, was a powerful magic on its own. A power beyond the reach of a deity or the grasp of a spell. And it was all theirs.

“So let me take care of you.”

“Okay.” She settled into his arms.

The warmth of him seeped into the cracks and corners inside her. Just when that delicious sensation approached that fissure of fractured power, it dissipated. Nothing permeated the broken bits that lingered deep. The warmth was nothing compared to the overwhelming uncertainty. The fear that she would remain broken. Stay broken. Forever.

Chills slithered down her spine, the ophidian dread almost palpable in its bony caress. The idea of enduring such unmaking—remaining fractured for eternity—approached cosmic horror levels even storm-wracked chaos failed to trigger. She would persist as half a deity, no longer whole. Purposeless. Impotent. Forgotten.

Forgotten gods descend into the abyss between worlds, lost to everything, remaining only as a tragic whisper on mortal lips until they crumbled to dust. That was her fate if she remained shattered.

Then an even more chilling thought struck her. Would he leave? Would he abandon her broken form?

“Don’t.” His whispered words pierced the darkness. “Don’t fall for those fears, because they aren’t true.”

“You can’t know that, Caleb. That could be my fate.”

“No, no, it’s not. Your soul is too beautiful for that ending.”

Before she could reply, he descended the last step into the Underworld. Unlike the stairway to heaven, which was paved with discarded materialistic possessions, she’d kept things clean. God was WAY too strict on what he allowed.

“This is the Underworld?” Caleb looked around. “I like it.”

She paused when a slight tremble rippled through his body. But before she could ask, he set her down.

“I’m glad you approve.”

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

She sucked in a deep breath. Fuck, it was great to be home. Dark rock glittered with a superficial sheen in the blackness. Everywhere edges were visible before plunging into nothing. It was a completely stereotypical hell landscape. Which suited her perfectly.

Besides, it would be challenging to explain repeatedly to souls that they were in the right place if she had chosen clouds and forests for decoration. Still, there was something comforting about the rough surfaces and unpredictable shapes.

Now the strength of her home realm was working full force to heal their mistress. Spicy magic was spreading across her body, seeking the damage done and repairing it. Healing completely would take her an extended period, but this was a great start.

IF she could heal at all.

“This way.”

Without light, she led him through the progressively narrowing rock caverns. Caleb followed, asking questions at such a rapid pace she couldn’t hope to answer all of them. But his enthusiasm was encouraging. It would be different if fear silenced him. If they hoped to be together, he had to accept this part of her. So she walked confidently forward, never looking behind to see if he followed.

“I can’t get over how awesome this is,” Caleb said, his tone bubbly. “Just look at these formations! Nothing like this exists on earth.”

“Not true. There are several places on earth that resemble hell. I didn’t come up with this shit out of nowhere.”

“Wait, you made all of this?”

Styx laughed. “This is my home. I fashioned every crack and corner. With help from the deities, of course, I can’t do everything.”

“Deities?”

“Yeah, Pluto, King of Hell, Hades, Lucy, Hel, Yama, Ereshkigal, Osiris, Mictlantecuhtli, and the list can go on. My favorite is Yanlou Wang. He’s the King of Hell and one bad ass dude. We alway play Go together. Great guy. Hel is fantastic too. She’s so good at chess no one ever plays with her anymore. But Hades is popular down here.”

“Hades?”

“If a mythology, religion or superstition have named a deity or god of death or hell, they’re here. Makes for epic parties. Lucy always brings desserts, but Hel provides the feast. Yama brings great tea. Osiris contributes crusty breads and beer—love that beer! And Mictlantecuhtli never fails to provide the best chocolate.”

Caleb laughed. “I never would have imagined the terrifying gods of the Underworld get together to play board games.”

“Why not? Gods need to be entertained, just like men. Don’t you remember all the stories? Those are evidence of a bored god,” Styx snickered.

“Makes sense.”

Styx grinned as she stepped between twin monoliths onto the open river plain, magic thickening the air into a palpable shroud. The inky waters stretched before them, deceptively tranquil under slate skies perpetually threatening storms that never arrived. Smooth glassy dark stone edged the shoreline, holding a myriad of secrets revealed only when the wind swept just so.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

This place excelled at one thing, devouring. Timeless tidal forces devoured mortal egos, reducing even the proudest heroes to dust, scattering their earthly glories. To dare the crossing was to confront the infinitesimal smallness binding every beating heart.

Here, the magic was stronger, just a few paces from her namesake. The river Styx. The ground shuddered, and Caleb yelped before grabbing onto her arm.

image [https://i.imgur.com/iziJqw8.png]

Styx laughed, knowing what was going to happen. A Cerberus burst from around the corner and Caleb yelped. The three-headed dog was exactly nine inches tall with tan fur, cute black noses, and bright pink collars. The micro-sized dog protected the Underworld with a vigor unseen in other animals.

“It’s so cute!”

Russ turned its attention to Caleb and started growling. The beast launched towards Caleb, teeth barred and hackles raised. Caleb squealed and ran, yelping as Russ chased him.

“Russ! Leave him!”

The tiny puffball gave a final growl and pranced about, yipping and snapping. She kneeled down, allowing Russ to clamber up onto her lap. Scratching vigorously, Russ panted and snapped and whined as she divided her attention between the three heads.

“Yes! Who’s a good boy?! You’re a good boy. Ohhh, momma missed you. Yes, she did. Yes.”

Russ whined and rolled over on her lap, each tongue lulling out in pure joy.

“Such a good pup. Yes, you are. Yes, you are! Such a good defender. Have you eaten any mortals? Have you? Were they yummy? I bet they were.”

The whine emitted was loud enough to shatter glass and rupture ear drums, but to Styx it was the best sound in the world.

“Momma is home. Yes, she is. Good boy. Okay, go!” With that, she tossed a ball of light into the distance.

Russ bounded away, growling and attacking the magic. The light moved and flowed, giving the Cerberus a mighty chase. Styx laughed as Russ splashed into the water, snapping at the tormented beings who struggled to grab onto him.

“I’ve never seen a Cerberus before,” Caleb said, stepping next to her. “I, uh, thought they’d be bigger.”

“Make no mistake.” Styx rubbed the spit from her hands. “Russ is ferocious. That fucker will tear you to shreds and bathe in your blood.”

Caleb paled.

“But they aren’t common,” she said, and with a snap, all the dog hair vanished from her clothes. “They aren’t a popular pet. Too much maintenance.”

Feeling the call of the river, she jogged to the edge. Inhaling all the magic she could, she squeezed her eyes shut. It was fantastic being back. Rejuvenating and replenishing. She laid down on the bank with no consideration of her clothes and dipped her hands into the oily liquid.

image [https://i.imgur.com/q42LhcP.png]

The thick liquid clung to her skin, zapping every nerve awake. All her senses heightened, recognizing her command. Sparks and sizzles erupted, showering the area with power. She could almost taste the passage of millennia in its silty perfume.

Its caress held the burden of all death’s distinctive languages. The petal-soft farewell of a child’s last lullaby, the final gasp of violence, the contented sign of a life well lived. Each whisper now called out to her, singing in harmony a song of death.

Haunted faces pressed close, spindly limbs stretched out as the souls trapped there begged her for release. Their hollow cries oozed from the water, sounding like mournful chanting. It was a balm to her soul. Remaining cut off from the calls of the dead, this would be one of her only refuges. A place to remember who she was.

“Mortals, even blessed like you cannot touch the water,” a deep voice said.

Styx startled and looked to see Caleb. He was inches away from dipping his fingers into the river. Mentally, she chastised herself. Failing to notice that he had wandered too close to his demise, she had been too engrossed in herself.

“Shit, Cal, I’m sorry.” She stood and brushed off the debris. “I should have warned you.”

He waved her off. “No, I should have used my brain. It’s a duh moment. A mortal touching the river Styx. Bad idea.”

“Still, I’ll pay more attention.”

“Did I ruin your plan?” Charon asked, a hint of humor in his deep voice.

Styx squealed and jumped into the boatman’s arms. They spun a few times, Styx giggling the entire time. God, it was great to see him again! It had been ages! It had only been two days, but separation from a bestie could make time feel like an eternity.

image [https://i.imgur.com/aN12Ymr.png]

When Charon set her down, she pulled over Caleb. “Charon, this is the mortal I was telling you about, Cal.”

“Caleb Mitchell,” Caleb said, holding out his hand.

Charon eyed it once and glanced at her. On the outside, he looked like a rough sailor. Weathered from the storms at sea, darkened skin from hours under the bright sun, wind tossed hair. Still, he was a mighty immortal.

“Oh! Right,” Caleb said, pulling away. “Powerful being, you’d probably rip my soul out and something horrible.”

Charon grinned and Styx snickered behind her hand.

“Not really,” Styx said. “You’d become obsessed with rowing.”

“Rowing?” Caleb questioned.

“Rowing,” Charon said.

“Yeah, all the time. You’d need to row, as not being on the water would drive you crazy.”

“To some, it’s a desired outcome,” Charon said, smiling. “I’ve had several competitive rowers venture down here just to touch me.”

“No offense, but I’d rather not.” Caleb backed away a step and put his hands into his pockets.

“None taken. Are you going to the archives?” Charon asked.

“Yeah, I have a problem,” she said.

“I can tell.”

Charon led them over to the boat. At first glimpse, it appeared to be a boring and mundane rowboat. But closer the wonder showed. Aged wood worn smooth, trailing tangled ropes and sea-glass charms. But crystal streaks shone within the grain, fracturing light into shifting rainbows.

Its prow bore markings, glittering glyphs promising safe passage swirling into sleek metallic lines hinting at progress ahead. The vessel breathed a paradox, a creaking oat that could outpace modern hulls, sanctified by bone and blood, yet bearing joyful names doodled on the wood.

Styx watched Caleb’s expression as they approached. The wide-eyed excitement was visible even in the muted light. Wonder spread across his features as his eyes darted around, taking in each detail.

“Wow! That’s so cool!” Caleb clapped. “Look at the carvings! On look at that name! Oh! That glyph. Wow! Those charms! Epic! Damn, this is so cool! Such a great boat! No! Look at that! This is the best thing I’ve ever seen! Like ever! Except maybe your face.” He smiled at Styx.

Charon laughed. “Now I know what you mean.”

“Puppy right?” Styx grinned.

Caleb didn’t look ashamed at all. “How could I not be super excited? I could almost burst into song!”

“No.” Charon stopped him. “I’d rather not subject myself to music from a mortal again. That ended badly.”

“You’re right, I’d probably end up causing some cataclysm down here,” Caleb said with a broad grin.

“Styx.” Charon helped her onto the boat.

She smiled up at her friend and took his offered hand, stepping aboard. Knowing that Caleb would need help, she offered her hand to him. He eagerly grabbed it and stepped up next to her. Even better is that he didn’t immediately release either. Instead, he held her hand tight. It was so strange to feel so comfortable with such a simple contact.

Caleb settled down on a bench, and Styx sat close beside him. She was almost half tempted to lean her head on his shoulder, like they were taking a romantic gondola ride together. Charon snickered, and she cast him a glare.

“Let’s get going,” Charon said, picking up his oar.

What the hell. She leaned on Caleb’s shoulder. Yep, it was as romantic as the movies. The water gliding smoothly under them. The soft lurch with each stroke. The slight caress of moving air. Even better, she shared this with Caleb.

“What’s that over there?” Caleb pointed to an entrance.

“That goes down into Hell. Lucifer lives there.”

“Really?”

“Don’t go there if you can avoid it,” Charon said.

Caleb’s face went pale. “Why? Is it as terrible as the bible says?”

“Worse.”

“Way worse.”

Caleb gulped. “How?”

Styx grinned, knowing that the hell he was imagining was completely different. “Absurdly bureaucratic.”

“What?”

Charon snickered. “A paper-heavy administration. Endless paperwork.”

“It’s hell.” Styx burst out laughing.

Caleb’s face went even more pale. “Paperwork is the worst! Who would do something like that?!”

“Lucy,” both Styx and Charon said together.

“Lucifer is Lucy?” Caleb asked.

Styx nodded. “Lucy is technically her name, but the dicks who wrote the bible couldn’t spell it right.”

“Morons,” Charon added.

Caleb grinned and started bouncing in his seat. “This is so much fun! Row row row…OUCH!”

Charon smacked Caleb in the head with an ore, glaring terribly at the mortal. Styx held in her laughter. Power built around the boatman, climbing and surging upwards, until everything was drowning in it.

“Never sing those words in my presence again!”

Caleb’s face drained of all color, and he nodded. “Yes, sir. Yes. Sorry, sir. My bad! Never again!”

With a last glance, Charon let the magic dissipate and Caleb twisted his fingers together. Styx grabbed his hand and held it tight, giving him a wink. He calmed and soon resumed his joyous expression.

“Are we going to talk, Styx?” Charon asked.

Styx looked away. “I guess. It’s the whole reason I’m down here.”

“I can sense the alteration inside of you. The changed power is distorting who you are.”

Styx let out a breath, unable to ignore the truth of the words. That was the big problem for which she had no answers, no idea how to fix. The magic inside had changed. It was different now, and in a bad way.

“Demons got a hold of a Creator summoning spell,” she said. It wasn’t Caleb’s fault, and so she’d leave him out of it. “They trapped us and did a strange ritual.”

Caleb held onto her tighter.

“After I couldn’t hear the calls of the dead anymore. It’s silent where they should be. And I don’t like it.”

“I understand. To be severed from that critical part of you is probably very unnerving.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

She couldn’t really tell him how it felt inside. The gaping hole where she should be. The foundations of her creation were missing. A tiny voice whispered that she’d never regain it. Now that the demons had taken her calling from her, she felt adrift. Without purpose.

Caleb wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned against him. Currently, he was the only solace she could find. The only tether to how she was before. To how she should be. She tightened her grip on him, begging the Creators that they wouldn’t yank him away as well.