We were running on fumes, every step heavier than the last. The journey had drained us, body and soul. The sight of the third river ahead, Cocytus—the river of wailing—offered a flicker of hope. But that flicker died almost instantly, extinguished by the realization of what crossing it would cost us.

  The world around us was bleak, barren. Everything washed out in shades of ash and sorrow. The air was damp and oppressive, clinging to us like a shroud. And then we heard it—the cries. Not just any cries, but the wails of the damned, the lost, the utterly forsaken. The sound didn’t assault our ears. No, it sank deeper. It wormed its way into our chests, resonating in our hearts like a dirge. Pain, loss, despair—each cry was a needle stabbing at whatever fragments of hope we had left.

  As we drew closer to the river, a figure emerged from the gloom. He stood motionless, cloaked in tattered robes of mourning, his face obscured by shadows. Behind him, a crooked wooden bridge stretched across the river, old and splintering, as if it would collapse under a stiff wind.

  The figure raised a hand, halting us in our tracks. His voice was hollow, drained of any warmth or humanity. "Only one may cross at a time."

  Mattie’s breathing quickened, her panic barely held in check. I placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Hey, kid. It’s going to be okay."

  Turning to Zefpyre, I gave him a firm nod. "You’ll go first. Mattie’s next. I’ll bring up the rear—with the Soul Gems."

  Mattie hesitated, her wide eyes flicking toward me. "Boss Man... shouldn’t we split the gems? It might make it easier."

  I gave her a faint smile, shaking my head. "No, kid. That won’t be necessary."

  Zefpyre stepped forward without a word, his jaw tight. The Mourner leaned in close, whispering something only he could hear. Zefpyre’s expression didn’t change, but I saw his fists clench briefly before he turned and started across the bridge. The fog swirled thickly around him, swallowing him whole until he was gone from sight.

  Mattie’s composure was starting to crack, her sniffles giving way to silent tears. I crouched slightly to meet her eye level. "Hey, Mattie. Look at me."

  She turned, her glassy eyes locking with mine.

  "It’s going to be okay," I said softly but firmly. "Remember, none of this is real. They’re just memories, echoes."

  I watched as she mouthed my words to herself, her lips trembling as she tried to force them to stick. With a nod, I gestured toward the bridge. "Your turn, kid."

  She squeezed my hand tightly, her small fingers trembling against mine. I held on for as long as I could before gently letting her go. She approached the Mourner, and once again, he whispered something only she could hear. Her tears flowed freely now, streaking her cheeks as she turned to step onto the bridge.

  I stayed rooted to the spot, watching her every step until the fog rose up like a living thing, coiling around her and dragging her from my sight.

  For a moment, I stood there alone, the weight of the Soul Gems in my pack digging into my shoulders like lead. The cries of the river grew louder, more insistent, as if they could sense I was next. I took a deep breath, letting the acrid air fill my lungs, and adjusted my grip on the straps of my pack.

  "One more crossing," I muttered to myself, flicking the spent cigar from my fingers. The embers hissed as they hit the damp earth. Then, squaring my shoulders, I stepped toward the Mourner.

  I pulled the Soul Gems from my pack, and for a moment, I just stared at them, unable to look away. They had changed. When we first found them, they were warped and sickly, an unsettling mix of green and purple, like something rotting from the inside out. Now, they shimmered with a bright sapphire blue, each one radiating a soft warmth, a flickering light that felt entirely out of place in this grim and desolate world. They didn’t look like prisons anymore. They looked like beacons—little fragments of hope in a place that had long forgotten what hope even was.

  Carefully, I placed them into the large onyx basket, the cold stone biting against my fingers. I tightened my grip on the basket as I stepped up to the Mourner. He raised his head, the shadows peeling back from his face like smoke. And that’s when I saw him—Master Johnson, my first teacher, the man who had ignited my love for magic. My first hero.

  The breath hitched in my chest.

  His lips parted, his voice as calm and steady as I remembered, but with an edge of sorrow that hadn’t been there before. “Prepare your heart.”

  The words hung in the air like a funeral dirge. He stepped aside, and the bridge ahead of me was clear.

  I forced myself to move, one step, then another. The old wood groaned beneath my weight, each creak swallowed by the endless wailing around me. The cries of the damned tangled with the slap of water against the bridge, a cacophony of despair. And then, cutting through it all, came the drums. Low, rhythmic, relentless. A symphony of sorrow, each beat reverberating through my chest like a hammer.

  The air grew colder, the dampness seeping into my bones. I felt it before I saw it—the water, creeping up my legs like icy hands pulling me under. The bridge beneath my feet began to dissolve, the wood fading into black as the river claimed it. Soon I was waist-deep, the current pulling at me, dragging me toward whatever hell awaited at the center.

  Halfway across, it happened. A jolt ran through me, sharp and electric, like lightning tearing through my spine. My grip on the basket faltered, and I stumbled, gasping for breath. And then I saw her.

  Cassidy.

  She stood there in the water, her silhouette barely visible through the fog. But those eyes—I’d know them anywhere. That soft pink hue, brighter than any light I’d seen in the Underworld. Eyes I had loved for as long as I could remember.

  But this wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. She was alive. I knew she was alive. And yet, as she stood there, staring at me, I felt it in my gut, in the marrow of my bones—this was her ghost. The Underworld wasn’t showing me Cassidy. It was showing me what I had lost. Or maybe, what I had killed.

  My knees nearly buckled, and the basket of Soul Gems tipped in my hands. I caught it just in time, but my arms felt like lead. My heart was pounding, a deafening drumbeat against my ribs. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t real. That this was just another trick. Another lie. But every time I looked into those eyes, I could feel myself unraveling.

  The river seemed to press against me harder now, the water dragging me down, trying to bury me in its depths. My mind screamed at me to move, to push forward, but my body refused to obey. All I could do was stand there, lost in those eyes, as the weight of the Underworld closed in around me.

  The world around me blurred, the weight of centuries falling away, and I wasn’t a three-hundred-and-thirty-year-old Master Wizard anymore. I was a teenage boy again, standing in the middle of the flower field near my childhood home. And there she was—Cassidy. Just a kid like me, but somehow even more radiant in my memory.

  Her soft golden-brown hair was twisted into two messy braids, tied off with pink bows that matched her eyes—those beautiful, hypnotic eyes. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans, the fabric so stained with grass and mud that they barely qualified as denim anymore. The frayed holes in her pockets spoke of countless adventures where she’d shoved treasures—rocks, flowers, and who knows what else—into them. A plain white linen blouse with tiny flowers tucked into the breast pocket completed her look, but it wasn’t what she wore that captivated me. It was her smile. That smile that made the world stop turning.

  She was saying something—her lips were moving—but I was hopelessly lost in her eyes.

  “JULIUS!” she yelled, snapping me back to reality. “Are you even paying attention to me?”

  I laughed nervously, scratching the back of my head. “The problem isn’t that I’m not paying attention, Cass. It’s that I’m paying way too much attention to you. I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

  Before I could even process what I’d just said, she let out a small shriek and ran at me, tackling me to the ground. I landed with a soft thud, surrounded by the scent of wildflowers, and before I knew it, she was straddling me, pinning me down. Her face was so close to mine, her eyes blazing with mock frustration.

  “Julius!” she said, hitting my chest with her fists—though not hard enough to hurt. “You have to listen to what I’m saying!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay, Cass, you’ve got my full attention now.”

  She didn’t move, still perched on top of me, her nose scrunched up in that way she always did when she was annoyed. “Julius, I was saying—why did you ask me to meet you here in the field of flowers?”

  I smirked at her, pretending to think. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  She crossed her arms, pouting. “I don’t ask questions I already know the answers to, stupid.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  I dodged her question, gesturing to the flowers around us. “Isn’t this place beautiful? The hydrangeas in full bloom, the roses, the lilies all around us. Beautiful, just like you.”

  She scoffed, her cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink. “You’re just saying that.”

  “Cassidy,” I said softly, reaching up to take her hand. My fingers brushed against hers, and the world seemed to slow. “I really mean it. I asked you here because… well, I just wanted to spend time with you.”

  Her pout melted into a small, hesitant smile. “You did?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

  “Yeah,” I admitted, my heart hammering in my chest. “I love spending time with you.”

  A grin broke across her face, and she shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I guess I like spending time with you too,” she said.

  I sat up, still holding her hand, and suddenly she was sitting in my lap, her face inches from mine. Her eyes locked with mine, and everything else faded away—the flowers, the field, even time itself. My heart raced, my breath hitched, and for a moment, my brain short-circuited.

  Then she leaned in.

  I closed my eyes, praying—begging—that I wouldn’t mess this up. That she’d want to kiss me again after this. I tilted my head slightly, and our lips brushed together.

  The kiss was soft and sweet, the world around us frozen in that perfect, fragile moment. She shifted slightly, her body pressing closer to mine, and I caught the faint scent of strawberry crème from the perfume she’d stolen from her mom. My hand instinctively moved to her back, pulling her closer, and for the first time in my life, everything felt right.

  Our lips stayed connected, hesitant but eager, neither of us wanting to pull away. We didn’t know what we were doing, but it didn’t matter. This was our moment, and it belonged to us.

  A moment that would last forever.

  Like a slap to the face, I was back. Back in the wretched, soul-crushing Underworld. Not exactly godforsaken, though, since the Lord of Death, Hades, kept his iron grip on these lands. But here I was again, and Cassidy still stood before me.

  Her figure was as solid and vivid as the memories she stirred. Slowly, deliberately, she walked closer. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Before I knew it, she stood right in front of me, her hand raised. She brushed away the tears I hadn’t even realized were falling. Her touch was soft—too soft, too real for this place. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the oppressive air like a knife.

  "That’s one of my favorite memories too," she said, and her words hit me like a gut punch.

  "How… how are you here?" My voice was barely more than a rasp, broken and raw.

  “Jul,” she said softly, her eyes searching mine, “our love is here. There’s nothing more alive than the bond between two people in love. When you threw that away—when you broke my heart—you didn’t just leave me, you left us.”

  I tried to interrupt, to cut through the guilt weighing on me. “Cassidy, don’t you see? You deserve so much better than me.”

  She shook her head, her gaze unwavering. “Julius, why can’t you understand? I never cared about what you thought you deserved. I loved you. I chose you. I see you for who you are—the parts of yourself you try to hide from the world, the parts you can’t even admit to yourself. When you decided you needed to ‘earn’ my love, when you left on that ridiculous quest to prove something to your mother and yourself, you broke my heart. Not because you left, but because I never wanted anything but you.”

  I reached for her hand, desperate to hold her, to feel something real in this cursed place. But my hand passed through hers, ghostlike, and I nearly dropped the basket of soul gems.

  “Cass,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “What does this mean?”

  She smiled, a sad, knowing smile. “You know what the beauty of love is, Julius?”

  I shook my head, too choked up to speak.

  She leaned closer, so close I could smell the faint trace of strawberry crème perfume—the same one she’d stolen from her mother centuries ago. She giggled softly, a sound that felt out of place in this dead world, and whispered in my ear, “The beauty of love is that even when it dies, it’s never truly gone.”

  I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest. “Cass… my love for you has never died. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

  She giggled again, a bittersweet sound that made my chest ache. “Oh, Julius. I know. Everyone knows. All of existence knows. Why do you think the Underworld keeps throwing me at you, trying to break you? It hurts, doesn’t it? Seeing me like this.”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “But the thing is, Julius,” she continued, her voice soft but steady, “I never stopped loving you either. And while the Underworld may try to use me against you, I would never hurt you. Not now. Not ever.”

  She gestured for me to follow her, and together we began walking through the murky waters of the river.

  “Cass,” I said, my voice quieter now, “do you remember when we were kids and snuck off to the Isle of the Blessed to find the Lady in the Lake?”

  She laughed, the sound like a balm on my aching soul. “Yes, and your mom found us and nearly cursed us.”

  I barked out a laugh, the memory as vivid as if it had just happened. “Oh man, she was furious. But she was always mad at me.”

  Cassidy winked at me. “Do you remember when you proposed to me with that ring made out of cherry candy?”

  “Yeah,” I said, smiling despite the heaviness in my chest. “And Blake and Celeste hosted our wedding in the field of flowers by the house.”

  Her smile softened, her eyes glimmering with nostalgia. “You loved bringing me to that field. We had so many dates there.”

  I hesitated, worried I’d misjudged. “Did… did you not like those dates?”

  She stopped walking and turned to me, her gaze gentle but firm. “Oh, silly boy. I loved those dates. Because you were happy. How could I not be happy when you were with me?”

  Her words hit me harder than any blow ever could. “Cassidy,” I said quietly, “how could I be anything but happy? I was with you.”

  She sighed, her expression tinged with sadness. “Julius, you’ve always carried such a heavy burden. You’ve never let yourself be happy or enjoy anything in your life. That’s how you lost me. But for me—for the memory of our love—promise me you’ll try. Try to let yourself be happy.”

  I looked away, the weight of her words crushing me. “I can’t make promises I can’t keep,” I admitted. “But I’ll try.”

  She smiled, a faint glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. “I love you, you stubborn, stupid boy.”

  I laughed softly, shaking my head.

  By then, we’d reached the riverbank. Her presence felt lighter now, more distant. “Julius,” she said, her voice barely audible over the mournful wails of the Underworld. “Don’t forget to dunk the stones in the water.”

  I did as she said, plunging the soul gems into the river. Their light dimmed for a moment before glowing brighter than ever. But when I stood back up, she was gone.

  I stood there, alone again, the river at my feet and the weight of eternity pressing down on me.

  I trudged out of the river, soaked to the bone, but with a ridiculous, lopsided grin plastered on my face. It didn’t fit this place—it didn’t fit me—but there it was. And sitting on the sand ahead were Mattie and Zefpyre, both of them sobbing uncontrollably, their faces streaked with tears.

  I walked over and dropped down beside them. Mattie glanced at me, her eyes bloodshot and raw. “Why the hell are you smiling like a love-sick teenager?”

  I shrugged, trying to downplay the truth. “Oh, uh… because I am a love-sick teenager?”

  She shot me a look so sharp it could’ve sliced through the underworld's gloom, and from Zefpyre, I felt an angry ripple of heat radiating outward. He muttered something under his breath.

  “What was that?” I asked, though I already knew.

  “I said, I hate you,” he spat, his voice low and bitter.

  “Do you two need a moment?” I whispered, half-joking, half-serious.

  Mattie wiped her face with the back of her sleeve and stood, trying to compose herself. “No. I think we should keep moving. I’d rather not have more banshees coming after us.”

  “Wait. Banshees?” I asked, confused.

  Zefpyre cut in, his tone sharp and still simmering with frustration. “Yeah. While you were off doing whatever it is you do, we heard this… laughing. Giggling. Coming from the river. Next thing we know, banshees came screaming out of the shadows. They couldn’t find the source of the laughter, so they came after us instead.” His face twisted in anger. “We barely managed to destroy them.”

  “Oh,” I said, my voice small. “Um… yeah. Sorry about that.”

  Mattie frowned at me, tilting her head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “No,” I admitted, my voice quieter. “It was.”

  Both of them stared at me, confused.

  “What do you mean?” Mattie asked, her tone wary.

  I sighed, trying to piece the right words together. “Well… the laughing. That was me. I was laughing.”

  Mattie’s expression softened in confusion. “Why were you laughing?”

  I hesitated, unsure how to explain it without sounding insane—or worse, insensitive. “The Underworld tried to throw a challenge at me. Tried to use someone from my past, someone I loved, to break me. But instead… we just talked. We talked about our favorite memories together. And somewhere in the middle of it all, I… I laughed.”

  Mattie’s shoulders relaxed, and before I knew it, she pulled me into a hug. “I’m really happy for you,” she said, her voice shaky but sincere. “Because mine was awful. I hope I never have to go through something like that again.”

  Zefpyre, still seated, glared up at me. His tone was sharp as a blade. “Yeah, well, fuck you. Mine was brutal too. So happy for you,” he added, dripping with sarcasm.

  I didn’t know what to say. His words hung in the air, heavy and bitter, as the oppressive gloom of the Underworld closed in around us again.