1 Chapter One...

"Going up on 250, guys!"

Ronyx peered over the bar at the appropriate ticket. "Yes chef!" he replied curtly, giving the pan a quick toss. Arrabbiata sauce sprayed up the rim of the pan. He threw some parmesan in and gave it another flick, less messy this time. Another few seconds and it was in the bowl, topped with green onions and placed in the window.

A tall, dark-skinned man in a striped apron approached the dish and gave it a once-over. "Nice, Ronyx," he praised. "Good coverage. You're improving fast."

Ronyx hid a smile. "Thanks, Egg."

Not many people could get away with the name. Egidio De Luca was a surprisingly difficult to pronounce name for his boss, so many of his staff just affectionately called him by Egg. Then again, so was his. Nobody seemed to want to use his full name. Ron, Ronny, Nyx; he'd heard it all by now.

Ronyx couldn't lose focus now. That was just one bill of the full board he had before him. He quickly speared the ticket and moved onto the next pasta. With six burners to work with and a full bain-marie, it was easy to get overwhelmed. His garlic alfredo was getting low. Usually an all-time low seller, tonight must have been the exception. A basil ricotta and marinara orzo was featured tonight, and it didn't seem to catch on as well as Zach, his head chef, had hoped.

He lowered all but one of them to a simmer and lifted his pasta before turning to check on Abi. Usually on pizza build, the experienced girl wound up taking a solo shift between fryers and salad with only Ronyx as backup. Zachary, their most experienced, took his full time on cut and call, while their boss had to run expo for the night.

Abi was younger than Ronyx, but a far more skilled chef and used to the pace of Diavolo Italiano, which he was still quite new to. Only a recommendation from an experienced cook at the Nestled Branch landed him here, far from home while he took schooling.

She gave him a quick smile as he quickly seasoned a basket of wedges and plated it. "Thanks Ronny," she said quickly. "Do you have the ravioli for Table Six?"

He reached a long arm over to toss the pan once, confirming it was still hot enough to sizzle. "Yup." Pausing to toss some croutons in a salad bowl, he returned to the pasta and quickly dumped it into a bowl and onto a plate, tossing it up into the hot window with Abi's wedges.

"Table Six?" Egidio confirmed, peering down his glasses at the bill Ronyx thrust into the window. Without waiting for his input, he thrust them into the hands of a passing server. "Table Six! And Forty-Two!"

"Eight still doesn't have their starters," the male server – a particular dick who went by Brad – interjected.

"Kitchen's short, it's coming," Egidio retorted, pushing him ahead with the food. "Zach, status on table eight?"

Zach glanced back into the oven furtively. "Still not in, damn it – Hayden, where's table eight!?"

A disgruntled noise from the back spoke for the delays. Zach turned to Ronyx, the request in his eyes long before he spoke. The pizza build line was on the other end of the oven, putting his own end at a disadvantage. Still, he had every bill ready to go – he just needed pizzas and breads in the oven to plate them. A few minutes of helping Hayden would accelerate things.

After quickly briefing Zach on the pastas and letting him step in, Ronyx dashed around the line to assist Hayden. He was a newer cook and much more inexperienced in the kitchen. Sure enough, his printer was backed up, his ticket holder full of bills, and he looked lost. His line was a mess, his orders scattered and all over the place.

"Where you at?" Ronyx asked, stepping in next to him to straighten out the tickets and pin the new ones.

Hayden frantically directed him, and their combined force quickly reduced the number of bills. After throwing the last bill that was technically behind, Ronyx grabbed him a bit more stock for his line, cleaned it around him, then dashed ahead to return to his line.

Zach caught him before he could get back. "Can you get more chardonnay from the bar cooler?" he asked. "You're good for a minute here – maybe grab bourbon and the rum as well."

Ronyx nodded. "Got it."

He quickly retreated out the side kitchen door to the bar, and the quick din of the restaurant filled his ears, replacing the fuss of the kitchen for the moment. He wasn't particularly close with any of the bartenders or front-of-house management, so he kept his head low and made straight for the bar cooler.

As he knelt to start stocking his arms with the liquor he needed for line, a customer drew his attention from the bar. "Excuse me, do you work here?"

Surprised by the question, Ronyx popped his head up. "Yeah, but I'm kitchen. If you want another drink, you gotta—"

He froze, looking into an oddly familiar face. The young man wore a hooded sweater that cast shadows over his face in the already moody lighting. His hair beneath the hood looked bright orange, though that could've certainly been just the lighting, and his eyes didn't look buzzed at all, but sharp and blue. A faint smirk etched across his face.

The young man smirked, shadows flashing across his eyes. "So I guessed. Would you be so kind as to direct them my way?"

Ronyx's mind worked in overdrive. There was no way this guy was… him. That was long ago, in another world. A place far different from the suburbs of South Wintermere. But yet, he looked instantly familiar. The face alone, though older than he knew it to be, sparked something in him that rooted him to the spot. He didn't need this kind of interference now. He had no time.

Somehow, Ronyx managed to move his stone head in a nod, swept up the three bottles he needed, and rushed back into the kitchen.

The rest of rush was easy enough. Ronyx's help on the back line pushed them through the worst of it. They only needed to divide and conquer the last part as the combined work of Ronyx and Hayden poured through the oven, then wait as servers scrambled to run the unhindered food now filling the windows. It continued steadily for a while longer, then trickled into desserts. Before long, the worst of it passed, and they started to work on their closing procedures.

Yet, hours later, Ronyx couldn't tear the face from his thoughts. There was no way it was him… was it?

Egidio came back and complimented him later on his assistance during rush, patting him on the shoulder and telling him that his old head chef, Bart, was right to send him his way, and he'd be loathe to be rid of him when his studies were over. Ronyx didn't know how to react, only telling him he'd been following Zach's lead and working together with the team.

At the end of the night, once all the closing procedures had been done and Ronyx finished the final mop, the group of them sat at a booth with the closing bartender. Hayden hadn't been meant to close, but he wound up staying behind to help sort out his station. Abi absently helped Brad with rollups while we all nursed our drinks, chatting about the night. She had a Coke instead, warning us that she had an exam in the morning.

"It got real hectic, real fast," Hayden was telling everyone, hands raised dramatically. "Damn Kurt on the morning shift didn't leave me with squat for stock. If you hadn't come and helped me out when you did, Ronyx…"

Nobody directly blamed him for the hectic rush, but it was evident on their faces. In Ronyx's opinion, he shouldn't have been back there on his own. Pizzas and breads couldn't be stretched out and fired consecutively by oneself. Having someone to control the oven, time their tickets, and ensure collaboration with the other half of the kitchen – collectively divided and micromanaged by different stations – would ensure success. If Egidio listened to him, maybe it would work for their busier season.

However, Ronyx couldn't even work himself out to care that much. He only worked when he wasn't in classes, which wasn't enough to try putting his heart into yet another kitchen. But, even more so, he kept glancing toward the bar where the familiar young man earlier sat. Whenever he looked away, he felt those steely-blue eyes dragging his attention away from the mundane.

"Ronny, you okay?"

Abi was looking at him, smiling worriedly. "What?" Ronyx asked dimly. His voice felt like it echoed in his ears oddly.

"Yeah, you've been spacing out all day," Zach muttered. "Didn't dip into the liquor you stocked on line, did you?"

Ronyx flushed quickly. "N-No," he replied uneasily. "Just, uh, haven't been feeling well today."

The others quickly threw up their fingers in little mock-crosses. "Six feet," Raymond joked. "I can't afford a sick day!"

"Nobody can," I replied morosely, swallowing back a decent amount of my drink. "If I missed one shift, I'd miss rent."

Everyone drank deeply to that. Abi was in school as well, though at the South Wintermere School of Design; Ronyx went to the Wintermere University, a distance from where he found work. The other two were just cooks through and through.

A while and a finished drink later, Ronyx left work for the walk home. He didn't live far from work and found he often partook in a post-shift drink, so it made sense to leave his car at home. It would save gas, too, that was for sure.

Night fell easily over South Wintermere. Although the days lasted longer for mid-spring and there was nary a mountain around the city, its streets welcomed the night like a blanket settling in around its people. Even the most bright buildings sank into the night, avoiding the streetlights as well as they could. A few stars scattered across the black sky. They tried to twinkle their best, but the city's smog hid it away.

Highbeams flickered over him from the noisy highway even as he took the side roads, careful to avoid the usual suspicious groups that wandered no matter what day of the week it was. A group of hoodlums gathered around flashes of a lighter and the faint odor of smoke, casting him suspicious glances as they huddled. A wandering, staggering drunk took more interest in them than him, not noticeably intoxicated at all. How the world so easily forgot what befell it, continuing to clamor, kick, and scream as they always did.

Thoughts tugged at his mind that he couldn't tolerate while under the public eye, things he'd tried to stifle and bury in these last few years. To him, there was only this world now. A world of smog and dust, of the faint smell of decay, the colors of white laundry that fell in with black shirts too often.

Faint sirens from nearby rose up into the din, and became louder as Ronyx walked down the street. He wrapped his jacket tighter around himself, smelling the faint aroma of his workplace off the uniform he still wore. Sure enough, he soon caught sight of flashing lights that echoed off some of the grey buildings ahead. He didn't want to get drawn up in anything, but it was evidently right on his route – so he kept his pace.

The source turned out to be a car accident. It looked like the first car went straight before the incoming second car rammed it while turning right, driving the first car into an electric pole. Shattered glass and shrapnel littered the streets. A woman was frantically speaking with the officers, sobbing while her arm hung at an odd angle. People gathered like pigeons to breadcrumbs, watching the incident.

Ronyx absently looked for the driver, but saw instead that the front car's window was filled with blood. Ahead of the pole, a few medical attendants saw to a still body several feet ahead of the car, riddled with glass and cuts in a pool of blood. A chill crept down his spine, and he averted his eyes.

He noticed a few bypassers watching over a shared cigarette while a young woman in a red windbreaker heckled them, waving her arms frantically in their faces, trying to garner their attention for some reason or another. As he went to turn away, the woman turned to him, and he recognized her.

"Abi?" he whispered, surprised. The girl looked at him, her cheeks stained with tears. She was still in her work uniform, but the windbreaker she wore over it was torn. Was she involved in the accident?

She ran toward him. He caught an odd side glance from one of the smokers, but he didn't realize why. Abi ran into his surprised arms, sobbing into his shoulder. She still smelled like work, too. Work and sulphur.

"Oh, Ronny," she sobbed, "I don't know what happened! One second I was driving home from the work, then… then I'm standing next to my wrecked car! What the fuck, Ronny!?"

"You were in that wreck?" Ronyx asked quietly. He started to look around over her shoulder, past her ashy red hair to the scene around him. His headphones fell around his neck, still buzzing with music deafened by the sirens and the frantic woman behind him. The smoking pair gave him a funny look as his hand hesitated over Abi's shoulder. The woman speaking to the police started sobbing as a paramedic spoke to them. By the pole, they started to drape a white cloth over the still body. The last glimpse of it was Ronyx saw was a red windbreaker.

When it finally dawned on him, it came with a sick feeling of unease that made him teeter where he stood. It wasn't the first time he'd experienced death, not by a longshot, but it had certainly been a long time – so long that it felt like his heart plunged into an icy bath. He'd only been working with Abi for a few months, but she was nothing but kind to everyone around her. She didn't deserve this.

He gently urged her along. "Come on, let's go sit down away from all this," he told her quietly.

She glanced up at him. Her dewy eyes reflected the flashing emergency lights. "D-Don't I have to stay by my car? Give a statement?"

She half-turned toward the car, but Ronyx gently kept her from looking. She didn't realize what happened. If he had to console her here, he'd be shipped off to a mental hospital, he knew.

"They'll take care of it," he told her. "You need to sit. You're shaking all over. Get away from all the noise and clear your head. Uh," he glanced around, searching for a spot where he could talk to himself without looking insane. Downtown Wintermere wasn't the best spot for a quiet place. He located a spot and pointed it out to her. "Over there. That bus stop at the corner."

She nodded heavily. He let her walk by herself for a moment, watching her to ensure she could walk on her own. Whatever injuries she'd borne in the accident, they wouldn't affect her now. She probably didn't even realize how bad it was. Ronyx kept her walking along the side of the firetruck that had pulled in next to her vehicle, preventing her from seeing the body laden with a sheet. As they passed, he quietly grabbed a blanket from the back of the truck.

If he tried to drape a blanket normally around a spirit, he knew, it wouldn't do a thing. It'd just fall right through her and she'd quickly realize something was wrong. He knew exactly what to do, though it had been an age since he'd done it. He wriggled his fingers, and they knew the motions like an old pattern he'd never forgotten. If anyone had been looking at him as he gently guided Abi toward the bus stop, they'd see the blanket softly vanish. However, it remained in his hands, now only as much a part of their world as Abi had become.

They sat at the bench and Ronyx draped the blanket over her shoulders, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. He could still feel warmth radiating from her. To him, spirits and humans never seemed so different, but he still felt an intense gravity at her loss. A loss that he now had to explain, somehow, and quite gently.

"Do you remember anything?" Ronyx asked her softly.

She shook his head against him. "I was driving home from work. I was with you, obviously, so you know. I didn't drink or anything. I have an exam tomorrow, so…"

"Did the other driver turn into you?" he asked. "It looked like she might have tried to right-turn there…"

Abi hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I just went like normal. I had the right of way, I know I did." She glanced up at him. "Is my car wrecked?"

With their backs to the accident now, Ronyx glanced over his shoulder. The smaller car wrapped around the pole on the driver's side. All the windows were shattered, and the frame dented almost all the way to the dash. An ambulance had arrived now, and a paramedic with a lanyard approached the body under the sheet.

"Probably," he said honestly. "I wouldn't worry about that though."

"Yeah," Abi agreed, "they'll cover the cost of repairs, right?" She sighed absently, shakily. "What are you doing way over here, anyway? Do you live nearby?"

I pointed to a large complex visible just over the buildings next to us, visible from a street over. "That building there. This is my usual route."

Abi scowled at me. "I should give you rides more often! I live a block away. I know you want to save gas, but I'm fine. I mean…" She glanced toward her wrecked vehicle just as a white SUV pulled up. "This time is an exception. I guess it's a good thing I didn't give you a ride today."

She sat up as she seemed to recognize the SUV. "Oh, it's mom. I should probably go talk to her."

Panic rushed through me. "Abi, wait—"

"Thanks for your help, Ronny!" she said as she hopped to her feet. "I'm sure I'll see you at work later this week!"

Ronyx froze, unsure how to stop Abi from encountering what was about to happen. It'd been a long time since he had to explain something of such gravity to someone, but he'd hoped to do it in a much more tentative way. This was why he'd eventually faded from the world itself. The pain associated with it was far too great. Now here he was, about to watch something horrible happen – possibly worse than what had taken her to begin with.

Ronyx was forced to stand as Abi jogged toward a frantic-looking woman who left the SUV. She had Abi's red hair and green eyes, her slight frame, and her high cheekbones. She had to be at least in her forties, but she looked good for her age. Ronyx might have even guessed it was Abi's mother if he saw her in a different situation.

Now, however, tears stained her cheeks. She looked to have hastily thrown on a jacket over her pyjamas, still wearing slippers, one of which looked like it was chewed on by a dog. A man stepped out of the passenger seat, dressed in black, with a salt-and-pepper mustache and a kind, weathered face. He looked like his soul had left his body altogether, abandoning what could never be an easy smile.

"Abi…" Ronyx tried to call out to her, but it fell on deaf ears as the girl reappeared around the firetruck, prepared to embrace her parents and wipe the worried look from their faces. In that moment, Ronyx would have given anything to undo what he'd seen, to remove himself from a situation that could only end in heartbreak.

"Mom, dad!" Abi cried out. But the couple didn't hear her. They approached the ambulance where the paramedic with a lanyard and an officer greeted them. She hesitated, dragging her feet as she studied the situation. Maybe she thought they were dealing with the technicalities of her accident, or maybe she began to detect the atmosphere.

Ronyx approached carefully, trying to stay out of sight of Abi's parents or paramedics. He had no place being here, but he couldn't abandon Abi now. The sky began to cloud over, as though sensing something foreboding approaching.

Abi's parents were speaking to the officer. Their chins fell, and Abi's mother buried her head in her hands. Abi's father drew her closer, turning to the officer with painfully dry eyes. The paramedic offered them a parcel of Abi's things: her cellphone, wallet, license, and purse, along with anything else that they might have retrieved from the car.

Abi must have sensed something was horribly wrong, her feet glued to the ground as she watched her parents. "I'm alright, I'm okay," she murmured, barely audible from where Ronyx stood. "It was just a fender bender. Didn't they see me? Don't they know I'm….?"

With Abi's belongings in hand, the father nodded to the paramedic as he started to pull a stretcher out from the ambulance.

"Abi, you don't need to see this," Ronyx tried to say quietly, but Abi ignored him, her eyes on the stretcher.

"Did I…?" she murmured. "Is the other driver…"

Her words fell away as the paramedic lifted part of the blanket. Even from where he was, Ronyx could see Abi's red hair, her ivory skin, her torn red jacket beneath the sheet. He knew Abi saw it too, for her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, her hands fell uselessly to her sides. Even her father seemed near breaking now, resting his chin upon his wife's head and biting his lip, eyes shut.

"No… what?" Abi murmured. "That's not me… that's not me! I'm right here! Mom! Dad!"

Ronyx couldn't stop her without drawing the suspicion of every onlooker that remained. She ran full tilt toward her parents, waving her arms, trying to grab their attention. They didn't look her way or notice her, inevitably. Ronyx could do nothing but stand aside as Abi screamed until her voice failed her. She remained in the same spot even as all the vehicles disappeared. Her father guided her mother back to the car and got in the driver's seat, clutching Abi's bag close to his chest as he fumbled with the seatbelt. Abi's mother looked a mess, her hair now streaked with a light drizzle of rain that began long after Abi's tears started. She watched them go, her mouth hung open in quiet shock, her cheeks stained with tears.

Slowly, all the emergency vehicles disappeared. Ronyx found out from one of the lingering pedestrians that the other woman had been arrested, likely to be charged with vehicular manslaughter. A few of them expressed condolences for the girl, who'd been killed instantly in the crash. Ronyx could take a little bit of gratitude in that fact; she didn't suffer. Even now, she seemed unsure of whether she'd felt any pain in the accident.

After the last emergency vehicles left and the foot traffic eventually dwindled, Ronyx waited nearby. Abi hadn't moved, standing where the ambulance had taken her body away. The blanket Ronyx gave her lay on the ground some ways away. It'd been more of a formality, anyway. Spirits usually didn't feel our world's temperature. She probably shuddered like that because of the shock.

Still, Ronyx picked it up and waited nearby. She might not want to talk, but Ronyx couldn't leave her alone like this. She seemed to have forgotten he was there. She might have forgotten she was there, drawn in by the pain of her very sudden accident.

Ronyx felt tired and exhausted from the day, which began to set in heavier once the vehicles left. His eyes might have closed for a second too long when Abi appeared before him again, startling him awake. Her cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes now horribly dry and weary.

"But you can see me," she said, as though finishing a thought. "If you can see me… why does the rest of it make sense?"

"I can see you," I told her carefully. "I… I'm so sorry, Abi. I wanted to tell you what happened. I didn't know how to possibly…"

She shook her head slightly. "I wouldn't have believed you." She spoke softly and carefully, weighing every word. "There was no other way. I had to see it, and I still don't know if I believe it. My parents… My poor parents, Ronny…"

She hugged him again, burying her head against his chest. "Why do I feel you?" she asked. "I couldn't touch anyone else. I didn't realize, earlier, when you showed up, I couldn't touch those people standing by. I couldn't even touch my parents. So why does it work with you? Is this real?"

"Try to touch something else," I told her. I hesitated, about to hand her the blanket I'd given her, and looked around. A stray cat had wandered over, studying us with gold eyes. "Try to pet the cat."

She did. He saw her recoil when her hand simply phased through the cat's little head. It mewed, looking up at her with sadness in its eyes. She studied it, hesitant to back away.

"It can't touch you, but I think cats sense pain even when our bodies aren't present," I told her. "My old cat was like that."

Abi threatened to tear up again, so Ronyx approached her and wrapped the blanket around her again. She reacted to the blanket, hugging it against her – then hesitated, lifting the blanket in her hands. Two and two seemed to collide, and she turned to Ronyx.

"You can interact with… ghosts," she murmured, tasting the word on her tongue for likely the first time. "Seeing me. Speaking to me. Giving me… this blanket. You can touch me when nobody else can." Her green eyes took him in with renewed curiosity. "I can't begin to guess why, or how, any of this works, but I know it's not a dream. Unless… is the pinching thing a myth? No?" She managed the smallest of smiles, but it faded away to leave behind an even more somber expression. "I remember meeting you for the first time and knowing there was something unique about you. But if you'd told me what, I'm sure I would have called you crazy. Not now, though."

Ronyx tilted his head. "I'm afraid there's a lot to it. I don't know if I could ever explain the full story, or want to, but… Abi, I can tell you what you need to know now."

She suddenly recoiled from him. He anticipated such a reaction, and chastised himself for getting so directly to the point. If anyone had talked to him like this when things began to get weird, sixteen years ago… he'd have reacted the same.

However, he abruptly realized that Abi wasn't recoiling from him. A strange atmosphere filled the air, igniting senses of his that he'd been ignoring for a long time. With them came an instant and unavoidable flurry of emotions. Screams in his ear about why he'd abandoned this life. Whispers that he couldn't help Abi now, not if he couldn't help anyone.

A dark wave of melancholy threatened to wash over him as a hand appeared on his shoulder. "Step aside, old one," a rattling voice that carried the weight of chains spoke in his ear. "You are out of your element now. It is not your era any longer."

Ronyx stepped away, dragging the hand from his shoulder, and wheeled around to face the figure beside Abi. Unlike how Abi appeared before him, this figure seemed murky and unclear, a mixture of shadows and light that blended oddly in the air, crackling with energy like static. The rain picked up a notch quite suddenly, and a clap of lightning illuminated the darkening street – but threw no light over the distortion.

"Wh-What are you?" Abi asked, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

The entity made a noise. "Fear not, young one. I am merely here to bring you to the other side."

Ronyx expected a Reaper; powerful, dark entities that pursued the souls of the lost wandering the land of the living. Once upon a time, he'd have been able to kill a Reaper with his hands tied behind his back, but he also knew they really meant no harm.

A Reaper would have been untimely, but also perfect. If Abi's soul were to cross over, a Reaper could make neat work out of it. They were designed to help souls cross the divide and settle them into the other side. If Ronyx hadn't found her, a Reaper surely would have had to explain everything to Abi – cold, tired, alone Abi. As sad an idea as it was, a Reaper would have been exactly what she needed.

This, Ronyx realized with growing certainty, was not a Reaper.

Abi looked to Ronyx, her eyes pleading silently. The distortion didn't seem to regard him at all now that he was out of the way. He tried to make sense of the apparition, trying to see where the rain ended and its body began, but it was no clearer than when it arrived.

Ronyx moved. It felt like, since he initially moved out of the way, that he'd buried his legs in cement. His legs protested every step he took as he positioned himself in front of Abi.

"She asked you a question," Ronyx uttered. "What are you?"

Even while his legs felt like cement, he felt his body slip into a state. His fingers twitched at the ready, and he half-expected to find a sword waiting in his grip. The reflex was old, but it suddenly felt as ready as though it lay beneath his skin this whole time. With it came great pain. Over time, he'd come to accept that he was never going back to that place – a place he'd spent most of his life until then, at an increasing rate.

He wasn't the same as he once was. He'd never given focus to this world, not as much as he had the other one. He entered post-secondary despite scoring poorly in his years of high school, and kept up a stable job. Since he left for the last time, he'd even gone so far as to get counselling for the mental scars the world had inflicted upon him relentlessly. Bouts of loss, injuries that should have killed him, and wars he never should have led. He couldn't properly explain the extent in therapy, but he'd come up with clever allusions to compare them to the real world.

And, with that, he'd put away his adventurous life for what he'd thought was for good. He could make something of himself here. It wasn't as much, as fulfilling, or in as beautiful a world, but it would be a lot less painful.

Until now. Until he stood between his poor co-worker and what claimed to be some kind of reaper. He felt his fingers twitch for his sword. Power traced its way up his fingertips, as though roused and woken by the promise of battle. Primal things rolled in his chest, warming him against the bitter cold rain.

The entity uttered some kind of noise. A noise of confusion, a cough, or a laugh, he couldn't tell.

"Does the wounded lion threaten to roar once again?" the entity rasped, each word thudding like a shaken chain. "The world has changed without you. Struggle as you might to comprehend that. Dominion rises and falls as the tides pull in. Aspects of a young world grow and mature, just like old warriors who try to stand – only to realize the new has taken their feet."

The entity stirred, and another noise rang through the air – this one, Ronyx could recognize no matter how long it had been. The edge of a blade came to rest at his neck.

"You know better than to interfere in the natural order, Dragontalen."

His words sounded both insane and horribly truthful. There was a note to his voice that made Ronyx's veins freeze up with fear. He struggled to hide it, to bury all under his cloak. If he was to stand here in the way, then he needed to draw upon all the strength he'd hidden away. Strength had come to not matter in the land of the living, not in the same way. Here, it was better as carefully guised fear – but now that was at an end.

He glanced behind him as Abi tentatively touched his elbow. "Ronyx… be careful. Don't get hurt over me."

He only needed to look into her eyes for a molten armor to reappear over his skin, crackling in his fingertips, warming his chilled blood in a way that he thought should make the air steam around him. This was not the place for his pain, his suffering, his trauma. He didn't trust this entity.

"You are not a Reaper," I told the distortion ahead of me. "She will not go with you. If that is a problem… then you must deal with me first."