image [https://i.imgur.com/MfrbZ4F.png]

Caleb only felt hollow, void of all emotions but fear and panic. The morphing colors didn’t entrance. The proximity to immortal beings didn’t captivate. He was adrift among the splendor, abandoned by his previous self. There was a gaping hole where Styx should be, a void that threatened to consume him.

Icy terror dripped down his spine. Wretched anxiety clawed at his insides. Agony siphoned all hope. Their vicious toxicity invaded every fiber of his mortal form, threatening to choke the very breath from his lungs. He never thought it was possible to feel so deeply, to be affected so wholly. These sensations, now thundering through his nerves, felt completely alien in their virulence. They cascaded through his veins like liquid dread, seeping into the deepest recesses of his soul.

That thread that connected them was silent and still.

Still like death.

Silent like the grave.

He clutched her close to him, begging every deity and god to save her. Pleading to protect her. Revive her. He needed to see her eyes again, the flash of mischief and playfulness that filled their dark depths.

He tried desperately to shove those thoughts away. For his sake. For hers. Because the alternative...He clutched her a little more tightly. Despite being unconscious, she was clinging to him as well. Her knuckles white as they dug into him.

He’d never held her like this before. The vulnerability was incongruent with the powerful figure she typically presented. Now, she was just a shadow of herself, a shade among the living, a specter among the breathing.

The other horsewomen were whispering amongst themselves as the group rode the fabric between realms. Even the mounts seemed to have picked up on the somber mood. None of them had tried to eat him.

“Caleb,” Rowan said, her bear moving closer. “Has she woken yet?”

He shook his head, knowing any words would come as choked sobs. Any attempt at verbalization would result in uncontrollable crying. They didn’t need that right now. So he kept silent.

“She’ll be fine,” Sorcha said. “Once we get to her office.”

Valerie nodded emphatically. “Yeah, yeah it will. Styx is a tough son of a bitch, tougher than I am. She’ll be fine.”

He gave a small nod, hoping that would be the cause. Yet, inside, there was doubt. A powerful immortal like Death shouldn’t be suffering so.

“Can you tell what went wrong, Rowan?” Sorcha asked.

The druid cast a glance behind her. “No, not entirely anyway. The demons must have done something to the magic inside of her. Isolated it somehow.”

“That’s why she can’t hear the calls of the dead?” Valerie asked.

“Possibly. We’ll know more when I have access to my things.”

A brooding silence had fallen, emotions churning unspoken between the immortal beings like a tempest against stone. At Caleb’s urging, Rowan opened a portal directly into the Dead Depot. None of the others argued, not when their leaders’ essence flickered precariously.

Sorcha stayed to lead the snorting, stamping mounts back through the portal’s glimmering arch to the barn below. Caleb clutched Styx tighter, crossing the threshold from churning folds to the muted office, afraid even air currents might unravel the delicate balance that now existed.

Here, hope kindled. The Dead Depot overflowed with magic from the Underworld. Surely those tendrils would sense her, would cradle her weakened spirit with all the dark glory she commanded. They had to.

The waiting room wasn’t the peaceful place he’d experienced before. Spirits were restless, wandering about, bumping into things. Some had collapsed to the ground, crying uncontrollably. Others stared blankly at nothing, a twisted expression of pain on their haunted faces. Specters floated around, struggling to calm the souls and organize them. They whispered about fractures and dissolving foundations.

A bone chilling wind came from somewhere, freezing the air and causing goosebumps to explode across his skin. The lights flickered erratically, making the souls fade in and out in an eerie dance of desperation. A few cracks had formed on the walls, slight tendrils of smoke oozing from the darkness.

Rowan looked disturbed at the sight.

“What can you do?” Valerie asked, her voice a whisper.

“Nothing. I have no control over the dead.”

Caleb held Styx tight as several of the spirits crowded close. They spoke softly, muttering about losing their way.

“At least it looks like she still has some command over them,” Rowan said. “The souls recognize her, at least.”

“That’s something,” Valerie snorted.

Caleb tried not to stare at the translucent forms of the approaching figures. Death was a companion to life, and if he couldn’t accept it, then he had no business staying with Styx. So he ignored them, instead standing in front of the open door to the Underworld.

A spicy power washed across his skin, sending shivers up and down his spine. A hypnotic shimmer radiated from the cascading waterfall, golden light fracturing into prismatic rainbows that danced across the white walls.

It was beautiful, and nothing like what he expected.

Seductive whispers danced between the sounds of falling water. They promised him secrets from Past, glimpses of Present’s rich tapestry, and veiled visions from Future should he cross the threshold. Strange, fiery scents wafted from the doorway, carrying echoes of cinnamon, sulfur, ash, and clove. A pang of despair split his chest. Because it smelled like her.

“We can’t let Caleb go down there.” Sorcha stepped into the room. “The Underworld is deadly for mortals.”

“I know that,” Rowan spat. “I will not send him.”

“But who?” Valerie cracked her knuckles.

“We can’t summon Charon or the others.” Rowan kept her distance from the door and the erratic souls. “They cannot withstand being this close to a mortal realm.”

Sorcha rolled her hands together. “Not to sound insensitive, but can we just send her down the waterfall?”

Valerie snickered. “I’ll lob her down.”

Caleb turned and glared at the Valkyrie. He would NOT be throwing Styx. “I’ll take her.”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

Rowan sucked in a breath. “Listen, Caleb. I understand how hard this is for you. But it’s simply too dangerous. The particular type of magic down there is very poisonous to mortals. Even the human heroes who ventured were physically and mentally scarred for life.”

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“But Styx already said I could.”

“I know, but that was before. Because it’s her home realm, she has a vast amount of influence on the magic there. She could look after you. Now she’s incapacitated and powerless.”

His face must have betrayed something, because Rowan held up her hands. “Okay, powerless is the wrong word. She can’t protect you. Meaning that you’ll encounter the full force and strength of the Underworld. With no barriers.”

“Yeah, Caleb,” Valerie said. “Don’t be stupid. The Underworld is a dangerous place for us! We all fight and kick ass. I don’t go down there without serious prep work.”

“Agreed,” Sorcha said. “It would be a good haven for me since I can’t rot anything down there. But nope. It’s super serious. Traps.”

“Pitfalls.”

“Lava.”

“Monsters.”

“Vengeful spirits.”

Rowan squeezed his shoulder. “Just sit tight. Styx isn’t in any immediate danger. She’ll wake soon now that her home realm magic is so close.”

He pursed his lips. Everything they were saying was logical. He didn’t want to descend into the depths of hell alone. In fact, it made his insides quiver. He didn’t even like watching horror movies. Entering the pinnacle of nightmares felt like a sure way to have a heart attack.

But Styx.

“I’ll stay here for a little,” he said. “But if she’s not awake soon, I’m going down. No matter what anyone says.”

Valerie slapped his back, and he staggered forward. “That’s a mighty great attitude!”

“That’s so dreamy.” Sorcha batted her eyes. “The hero risking everything to save the heroine.”

Rowan gagged. “Please.”

Sorcha glared at Rowan. “What? Even if your heart is stone, romance still exists in the world.”

“Seriously,” Valerie said. “I have more romance between my sword collection than you do in your entire body.”

“Which is funny, because aren’t you the one who always says you’re not capable of love?”

Valerie laughed. “Love and romance are two totally different things. Romance is sliding a soft cloth across a holy blade. Love is being vulnerable. War cannot be vulnerable.”

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

“Riiiiiggggghhhhhttt,” Sorcha said. “I bet you a dozen crates of my favorite honey balls you’ll change your tune.”

Valerie grabbed Sorcha, twisted her around, and planted a sloppy kiss on her lips. “You’re right babe, I love you!”

Sorcha batted her away and wiped her mouth. “Ewww, get off me brute!”

Caleb wanted to feel some joy at their obvious comradery, but there was nothing but fear and anxiety. So he remained silent and stationary.

“Fine,” Rowan said. “I accept that dangerous or not, you’ll do what’s best for Styx. But, because Styx will kill me if you die, I’ll get some things ready.” Rowan turned and faced him, glaring mightily. “Do not. I repeat, do not go down until I return.”

“Just don’t take forever and I’ll agree.”

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

She nodded once before turning and leaving. Sorcha and Valerie stayed. Valerie pulled out a portable gaming device from her pocket and slumped into a chair. Sorcha sat beside her, looking at the screen. Music echoed from the tiny speakers, filling the space with a modern touch. They both became animated, losing themselves in whatever was on the screen.

Caleb stood at the doorway, staring down at Styx. It appeared as if she was asleep, with only a slight difference. The tension around her eyes was gone, making her look younger. The worry winkles in her forehead had smoothed. If only she were just asleep. If only she’d open her eyes in a few minutes, yawn and ask for breakfast. If only.

The disorder in the room intensified as more souls gathered. A constant din persisted, a subtle roar that filled the corners of the room. Sometimes a loud bang would echo as a soul knocked over a chair.

He had no concept of the passage of time. None at all. He knew only that she still slept. That he still couldn’t see her eyes. That her thoughts were silent. That the bond between them slept. The only thing he understood was the torment.

“Here.”

Rowan’s voice startled him. He jerked back and would have fallen if Valerie wasn’t there.

“We don’t think that you should go,” Rowan said.

“I’m going, damn the consequences.”

“I know. Which is why I made this.” Rowan held out an amulet.

image [https://i.imgur.com/qseOb8o.png]

The metal circle was cold, a sliver of ice in his hands. There wasn’t anything on the surface, no etching or decorations. But he could still feel the thrum of power, of protection.

“I’m unsure of how much it can do,” Rowan said. “But it will be better than nothing.”

He looked at Sorcha. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she offered a thin smile. Valerie, too, wore a somber expression, her lips tilted downward in a frown. Then he turned away. It was strange the juxtaposition he now faced. Fear from two sides. Which was stronger?

Fear of facing the underworld alone.

Fear of Styx fading away in his arms.

The next step he took could spell eternal peril or redeeming salvation. Breath trapped in his lungs, refusing to release and propel him onward. What nightmares waited for him? Monumental beasts to pulverize? Mythical heroes to torment? While he wanted to save her desperately, he was also frightened. The Underworld was a place to treat with caution, and he was walking headfirst into it without a guide. This is where they kept the dead. Where monsters roamed.

The weight in his arms reminded him of a simple fact.

But Styx was worth it. Even if his soul became trapped and slowly digested over a million years. She was worth it. Even if they burned his body repeatedly for a century. Even if he suffered unimaginable pain. She was worth it.

Fear would not conquer today. The first steps left his shoes sodden, icy water kissing his skin. Those souls who were close followed, their empty forms resembling a whispered word rather than spoken thoughts.

The soothing cascade muted all else. With daring determination, he pushed further downward, leaving the mortal world behind. This was the first time he’d ventured into a different realm. All the books and knowledge couldn’t prepare him to face this quest. Would he be punished for trespassing on this hollowed ground?

“Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. You’re just going to the store. A journey you’ve made many times.”

A ghost beside him looked quizzically at him.

“At least this isn’t so bad. I was expecting something scary, perhaps lava or fire.”

Pleasant contradictions marked the waterway. The soothing roar like a hushed thunder, the biting chill a welcome coolness. Magic spoke through the water, a promise of destiny, a fair judgment, justice. It was calming to know that even if this marked the end for him, the power of this place would judge him fairly. Thank god he always tipped well, and helped old men carry their groceries.

Surprisingly warm water crashed about his ankles, soaking his socks and making his shoes soggy. But that discomfort was nothing compared to saving her. With each step he took, something new appeared. Luminescent golden lanterns floated undisturbed. Spheres of pure illuminance resembling fragile bubbles gave off light, even in the brightness. Light seemed to radiate, filling the space with a pure brilliance. They almost reminded him of souls. Liquid halos suspended in stasis, preserving the memories of those seeking peace in Styx’s kingdom.

“I hope I don’t pop one.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/gjVe7o7.png]

In the place of walls, a vista of crashing waves stretched out to either side. Curious, he shifted Styx to reach out. No barriers impeded the waterfall’s flow, only that endless horizon. Timeless waves embraced the weathered shores before sliding back, pulling fragments out to darker fathomless hollows.

Each swelling crest both brought forth new and took away old. In a hypnotic cycle, it repeated. This ocean reminded him of Styx, a terrible beauty capable of both decay and healing. Both conveyed the circular nature of existence...that the beginning always ties to the end.

“Yeah, that’s rather awesome.”

Glowing azure blue moths trailed stardust in their wake, wings reflecting secrets stolen from distant suns not yet ready to perish. Each ephemeral flash of their jeweled bodies spoke of souls riding beautiful lies. But even the most captivating chrysalis must hatter and rot before wings emerge. How many former doomed beings found redemption only after fully embracing demise’s knife and awakening to fresh truth?

Caleb watched the delicate creatures dance dangerously close to the forgiving water’s pull. Like all who wandered this far, balancing fate’s line grew precarious near final borders. Yet some shreds of glory remain worth chasing despite the risk of plunging beyond reach. Perhaps that was the entire point. Pursuing some bright elusive thing, not realizing it risks rebirth or ruin.

“You’re so pretty!” He spoke to one as it came close.

There was no sound beyond the water’s hush. Until the caw of a raven echoed from somewhere unseen. The wind from wings brushed past his face, before vanishing without a trace.

“Are you a guide or a ghost?”

Then he let silence overtake him. Instead, offering himself to the tranquil feel of the stairway to hell. With a start, he realized that the bond between them was sparkling. Overly excited, he nearly lost his footing, but calmed himself at the last moment.

Casting a quick glance down, he noted that some color now touched her cheeks. That small sign of improvement made him want to run downwards. Fly down the stairs to her salvation. But somehow, he restrained himself. No matter what, he wouldn’t invite disaster.

The bottom of the stairs came into view, and Caleb paused. This marked his first glimpse of the underworld. All that was visible were gray and black rocks. The gnarled edges highlighted by the splendor of the pathway. Beyond, only darkness rested. The magic of the Underworld, of her home realm, would be stronger now. Then she would wake. He would see her eyes again. Hear her voice. Feel her touch. The world would be normal once more.

The spot behind his left ribs quivered slightly, a faint resonance that spoke of a reunion. With it, an extreme sense of rightness settled deep within his chest. At that moment, he realized everything would be alright because Styx would be with him soon.

With a snap, he knew she was awake.