The ache inside Caleb's chest made it impossible to ignore her pain. Her usual lethal grace was gone, replaced by the limping gait of a wounded predator. With each subtle hitch of her breath, panic flared. With each stumble or pained grimace, he thought it would be the precursor to a fresh disaster. In mere moments, his own pain intensified as his nerves frayed.

Shadows deepened in the tense set of her jaw. Faint lines of agony engraved around her eyes. When she thought him oblivious, slender fingers would press to her side, caging the echoes of damage. Each hissing, indrawn breath was a frantic scream inside of him.

Several patches of dark blood were now dotting the tunic she wore. Stains that screamed out to him, begging for help. But there was nothing he could do, not when there was a realm in danger.

Even though every step he took ached and pulled at sore muscles, he was helpless. A mortal without magic. A man without power. Weak. Pathetic. Useless.

Yet, he couldn't abandon her. Couldn't stray even a step from her side without desperation shooting through his mind. Not that he wanted to. The wilderness was kind of scary!

image [https://i.imgur.com/P3xCjqS.png]

The craggy landscape was menacing. With jutting stone erupting from the barren landscape. Spindly shrubs and thin trees marked the semi-arid location. Two rock towers stood a little apart from the rest. Pathetic greenery grew in the cracks to splash bits of color about. Even the shadows seemed menacing, as they reached out for him.

The magical portal looked like nothing but a pile of rocks. He cocked his head to the side. Nope, still looked like nothing from this angle. The others gathered around in a half-circle, staring at…what he couldn't decide. Styx remained silent by his side, her gaze sweeping back and forth across the area.

"Sooooo," he said, looking around. "Where is the portal supposed to be?"

"Here." Sorcha said. Famine was standing on an outcropping of rock. The nearby grasses and bushes had already decayed, now forming just clumps of black matter. "The portal should be right between this formation. Beautiful glimmering power."

"But now it's nothing," Valerie spat. "Make me so angry."

He flinched as Bony snorted behind them. Wary, the beast was going to bite him again. He edged closer to Styx. Perhaps it was because he was a mortal, but none of the horsewomen's mounts seemed to like him.

The bear tried to eat his face. The warg tried to chew his leg. The dragon tried to burn his skin off. The horse was the one who did damage. Bony took a chunk out of his arm before Styx stopped him.

"I'm going to look at things from above," Valerie said, launching herself up into Typhon's saddle. The dragon beat his mighty wings before launching into the air. Hot wind blasted them with debris and dust. He coughed several times, hissing and clutching his side.

Styx held out her hands, and he noted the slight tremble. "I can feel the magic. It's like nothing I've felt before. What do you think, Rowan?"

Rowan nodded, picking up a stone. "Yes, it's not Creator magic, that's for sure."

"I'm going around the back," Sorcha said. "See if anything is obvious from there." She clambered onto her warg, and they galloped off. The path she took rotted and wilted away, leaving a trial of decayed mass behind.

Styx took a step and stumbled. Caleb grabbed her before she fell. Hot rage flashed in her eyes and for a second, he thought she would smite him.

"I won't smite you, Cal," she said. "I directed that rage toward the demons."

"Good, because it was super scary." He smiled, trying to reassure her. "Maybe you just need to glare at them and they'll burst into ash."

A smile broke out across her lips. "I'll try that next time."

A shadow suddenly passed overhead, and a ground-shaking roar ripped the sky asunder. Caleb let out an entirely masculine shriek and dove behind Styx, certain a fearsome giant had arrived to grind his bones into spice for its dinner. He squeezed his eyes shut, muttering prayers to deities he'd long discounted.

But instead of the crushing blow he anticipated, laughter rang out. Hesitantly, he peeked one eye open to find Rowan staring at him as if he'd sprouted two heads…which actually might have improved his chances against a man-eating behemoth. Meanwhile Styx bit her lip, barely containing her mirth at his cowering.

Another pass of wings blotted out the sunlight. Caleb risked a glance upwards at the dragon circling lazily, feeling sheepish under Rowan's scrutiny. He slunk closer to Styx. Better safe than seasoning!

"Oh, so I'm not in mortal danger?"

"Well, you are hanging around the four horsewomen of the apocalypse. So I think that question is harder to answer. Here, I'll use you as a crutch."

"Yes, please!" He grinned, looking up again at the sky. "Just warn me if the dragon comes closer again, I don't wanna drop you."

"Gag me," Rowan said. "We're in the middle of something important. Not a flirt fest!"

"That wasn't flirting," Caleb said. "If I was flirting, you'd know it."

"Right, Cal. I'm sure you're a master flirt," Styx said.

Styx barked out a single laugh before clutching her side again. Rowan just rolled her eyes and stepped away. The druid would take a step and bend down to retrieve something from the ground. Then she'd move off in another direction, only to repeat the process.

image [https://i.imgur.com/f7nmmxx.png]

"Let's go that way," Styx said, pointing to another outcropping of rock.

Caleb led her carefully, helping her avoid any obstacles. When they reached the destination, she stepped up onto the stone platform. It afforded a good view of the surrounding valley and she waved him away.

"I'll be here for a time. I need to feel things out. Don't worry, I won't topple over."

"Are you sure?"

"You lived with a witch, right?" Styx asked.

"Everlong! For over ten years. She taught me a lot."

"Good, go see what you can find. Maybe we need a mortal's perspective."

Rowan snorted. "Ha! My toe nails offers more."

"Go on." Styx gave him a small shove. "Prove her wrong."

"But she's right! A druid's toe nails could have several uses. Especially if we combine…"

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Styx cut him off with a glare. "Perhaps I want your thoughts."

He beamed up at her. She was right. He was a brilliant almost-witch, with several years of valuable experience. In addition, he was a scholar who studied lots. Yeah, she could totally use his help. Despite how much it hurt, he puffed out his chest.

"As you wish!"

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

Caleb paused, turning back to ensure Styx would be fine. As the clouds parted, his breath caught. Wreathed in sunlight atop the outcropping, she was beauty incarnate.

Radiance ignited streaks of amber and garnet in her dark hair, and when those rays grazed her collarbone, his heart stilled, spellbound. Haloed in gold, she was both a terrifying goddess and precious woman.

In that suspended moment, clarity struck him: she had captivated not merely his mortal flesh, but his very soul. Bathed in sunlight, her silhouette was the most striking sight he'd ever beheld. As the sun retreated, it stole light and hope, for nothing could compare to basking in her presence—intimate and infinite.

He wanted to etch this vision into memory, marking the moment he realized the depth of his feelings. The scent of smoke filled his nostrils as darkness snapped into crashing ruin—an enormous library buckling as cinder and stone rained down in swirling chaos.

Skin crawling with ash and fire, the air seared his lungs as frenzied flame erupted in violent glory, molten heat laying waste to ancient walls.

He watched in abject horror as shelves gave way, centuries of irreplaceable archives perishing by the thousands. The pages fluttered erratically, dancing their own dance of death, the only resistance their now-fragile forms could muster against the oncoming horror. Priceless parchment blackened, pages aflutter in a silent scream. Each book's destruction was a synergistic torture, their combined ruin hollowing out his core.

When he sucked in a breath, the hot acrid air burned his lungs, searing spikes of pain deep into his being. Blood dripped from his hands, the wounds' searing pain mingling with the scent of hot copper thick in his nose.

The wrongness of it all battered his senses—a sanctuary of knowledge capsizing at the hands of an inferno's rage. He should try to save the texts, battling to salvage ideas before ash subdued their voice. Instead, smoke smothered all efforts, the stillness within those fires mocking his paralyzed agony.

Nothing would be the same after this. He wouldn't be the same. The world wouldn't be the same. This was change, a devastating change.

##

From her perch on the outcropping, Styx watched his retreating form. Suddenly, his steps faltered, his body going rigid, as if gripped by an unseen force. He swayed precariously, his shoulders hunching forward as if bearing an immense weight. Then, his knees buckled, and he crumpled, his body pitching towards the unforgiving ground.

Styx never moved so quickly in her long existence. As soon as that bolt of alarm and flash of panic ripped down the soul bond, her injuries no longer mattered. She was a dark blur racing over rocks and crags, wounds splitting open in her desperation. All that existed was her terror of failing to reach Caleb's side in time. Of witnessing helplessly as his fragile mortal form crashed onto merciless stone. Just before he toppled over the rocks, Rowan's quick spell saved him from colliding with the unyielding ground. Her magic grasped tight as he went limp, averting disaster by a whisper.

"Something is wrong," Rowan said. "He's trapped somewhere. But he doesn't have magic!"

Styx slid to his side, gripping his hand. "He's had visions in the past. But they're never this serious."

"Visions?" Rowan hissed. "How can a mortal without magic have fucking visions? That doesn't make sense."

"Do you smell that?" Styx paused.

Rowan leaned closer. Styx had an overwhelming urge to slam her fist into Rowan's face for being so close to her man. But that was irrational. The druid didn't want Caleb. Somehow, she calmed herself.

"Yes, it's smoke and ash."

"It's the underworld."

"Why does he smell like the underworld?"

Rowan and Styx looked at each other, both completely at a loss and unsure what in the hell was happening. This shouldn't be possible. A mortal who'd never been down in the depths shouldn't have any traces of that realm.

"There is more than meets the eye with him," Rowan said. "It's lurking just below the surface, waiting to be discovered. I'm not sure we're going to like it."

"Fuck, why him? If I HAD to be paired with a mortal, why can't it be a straightforward one?"

"Because the Creators have a wicked sense of humor. Remember what happened in Olympus? That curse still haunts that realm."

Styx stayed crouched next to Caleb's unmoving form, anxiety's barbed wire wrapping her chest. With him locked away in visions, an oily darkness unfurled inside her, eroding her stoic strength. Shadows whispered of fading days and crumbling conviction, etching hair-thin fissures across her stalwart facade. But she refused to yield to this affliction ravaging her edges. She was Death, and she would not fail.

"Still not a fan."

Caleb moaned, and Styx grabbed his hand. "It's okay, Caleb."

"Shit," Caleb muttered. "I must be dying. You never call me Caleb."

Styx chuckled. "You're not dying."

"You've just had a very powerful vision," Rowan said, digging around in a pouch hanging from her belt. She slathered some herbs on a cloth and placed it on his forehead.

"To be honest, it's not my cup of tea. I never want to do that again," Caleb said. "But I do like you holding my hand."

Styx nudged his shoulder. "Baby."

"If that means you'll touch me more, then I'll take it."

Rowan grimaced. "I'm leaving, because if you two suck face again, I might hurl."

Styx smiled and helped him sit up. He rubbed his back and muttered to himself. There were confusing feelings crashing about inside of her chest. Alarm, fear, comfort, hesitation. They all battled for dominance and recognition.

The edges of her vision swam, darkening momentarily before snapping back with crystal clarity. A wave of nausea clenched her, and she startled. The last time she'd felt that was when she wandered into a teeming maternity ward, souls arriving in droves, their bright threads still tethered to Fate's always-spinning loom. The creation cacophony grew deafening, so contrary to her familiar silent kingdom. She'd fled the cloying aroma of newborn heads and disinfectant, retching as inception's shouts drowned out her preferred whispered farewells.

"What did you see?" Styx asked.

"I don't know, a building burning, books burning. I hadn't seen it before, but it was the most powerful vision I've had."

Typhon slammed down onto the ground next to him. He yelled out and clutched her arm. Valerie dismounted, smirking. Obviously, War was having tremendous fun, making the human scared. Styx glared at her friend, but Valerie only shrugged.

"We didn't sense or see anything from above," Valerie said. "Typhon could sense the spell a league into the air, but then nothing."

"It was powerful then," Rowan said.

Sorcha returned, her warg eying Caleb like he was a piece of meat. Styx glared at the creature, who quickly averted his eyes. "An empty pizza box has more clues than this place. The spell dissipates, and we sensed no traces of the demons."

"Any way to open the portal?" Styx asked Rowan.

The druid shook her head. "None. I can't grasp the magic threads and the growing things can't say what happened."

"So we're fucked," Valerie growled and slammed her fists together. "I hate being fucked. Doing the fucking is fine, but being fucked sucks."

"We have some time before the realm faces destruction," Rowan said. "So as long as we can reestablish the portal before then…"

"This is the portal to Haneul, the Sky Realm," Styx said. "The latent magic will preserve it for a time, but we must open the conduit soon. I won't allow them to perish like this."

"Even if I have to bash in every demon." Valerie shoved her sword into the ground. "I will see it done."

Styx sat back, ignoring the rocks jabbing into her skin. The shadows were growing, invading. Soon she'd have to let her companions know something was wrong. This could be the making of a real disaster. "We won't accept defeat."

"But the demons more scary than moldy bread," Sorcha said. "Can we really defeat them?"

Valerie cursed and paced. "No. No. No! I don't care if I need to gather every Amazonian, troll, and god. We will show the demons who rule these realms!"

"Here here!" Sorcha perked up.

Her insides were becoming decidedly more uncomfortable. Despite the potent emotions of her sisters, she couldn't rally.

"Styx, what's wrong?" Caleb asked.

Absentmindedly, she rubbed her chest, trying to find the strength to deny it.

"Styx," Rowan said. "You've been giving off a strange energy all day. At first I thought it was your wounds, but now I don't know."

"Rowan, need to help her," Caleb pleaded. "I can feel it inside. She's broken."

Styx looked up at him. Calling someone broken should make her angry. Instead, she felt nothing. Nothing. That's exactly what she felt.

"Nothing," she said. "I feel nothing. Something critical is missing."

image [https://i.imgur.com/xPlSRI2.png]

Rowan frowned and moved away. Caleb took her hand and ran his fingers over her knuckles. The tiny shreds of heat were striking against the cold inside. All the worry and fear was flowing from him. Endless cascades of it, tumbling back and forth in the great abyss.

Styx must have lost herself, because before she knew it, Rowan returned. Caleb helped her stand and move to a sacred circle the druid marked on the stone. Sitting inside of it, Styx stared at the etching. It was strange to feel so detached. So out of touch. She didn't like it at all.

Rowan's magic cascaded around her. It slid across her arms and clutched her thighs. With a spark, it landed on her chest. Unsure about everything, she sought solace in the one place she knew. Caleb. His eyes found hers and they stayed.

They were connected and whole like this. There would be no turning back, but she wanted nothing to change. She wanted Caleb in her life. To hear his voice. Listen to his laugh. Watch the sun as it grazed his cheekbones. She wanted him.

"The calls of the dead are silenced."

Styx flinched, then the world turned black.