A psychic and two witches stepped into the clearing at the edge of the Pine Barrens.

  The air pressed against Eli's chest with each breath, carrying the smell of wet earth.

  The dark trees stood in disarray. Some were lone and angled, others twisted in tight groups. Their entire collective canopy filtered sunlight into thin, anemic threads that barely reached the forest floor. A thin fog hovered in the space between trees, barely above the ground.

  Isla stopped at the tree line. Her blackened fingers flexed once at her sides.

  "We have a gift for Goat-Horned," she called out to the dark.

  Something in the shadows beneath the trees shifted. The darkness pooled and stretched, gathering itself like muscle.

  Eli gripped his staff tight enough to hurt. Beside him, Lilith stood perfectly still, her expression unreadable. Isla’s hand came to rest on her sheath.

  "Come," said a voice from beyond the trees.

  The word arrived without direction. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, carried by air that had grown suddenly colder.

  Eli and Isla turned to each other.

  Emerald met turquoise.

  Isla reached for his hand first. Her fingers wrapped around his, warm despite their blackenedness. Eli squeezed back, once. Then they were released.

  Lilith watched them both with eyes that caught the light that remained.

  Eli nodded, Isla nodded back, and then the woods swallowed them.

  They walked in near silence. The forest floor beneath their boots made almost no sound. No birds called. No insects hummed.

  As they walked Eli reached to his side, fingers brushing the fabric of her jacket, just to confirm she was still there.

  From the shadows directly ahead came a glowing pair of ivory eyes emerged first. They were positioned too high, at least seven feet off the ground. The pupils were horizontal slits. They stopped moving.

  There was huff and then the head came next, pushing forward from the black between two thick pines.

  It was the head of a horse. The skin was smooth, glistening, like a pool of blood. The muzzle was long and equine, but where nostrils should flare, there were only two vertical slits that opened and closed with each breath.

  Eli took a step back. His boot caught on a root, and he stumbled. Isla grabbed his arm, steadying him, but her eyes never left the thing emerging from the dark.

  The horse head lurched forward with a clip-clop—only one set of impacts. Two curling goat horns erupted from the skull, spiraling upward and back, their tips catching that faltering light.

  The body followed.

  Its front limbs were small, disproportionate, the hooves no larger than a foal’s. The creature stood angled forward, weight balanced on powerful haunches, its posture very Late Cretaceous in intention.

  From its shoulders, two massive bat wings unfurled. The membrane stretched taut between elongated finger bones, translucent enough that Eli could see the network of veins branching through them. The red of the horse head bled seamlessly into the deep black of the wings.

  But below, where the torso met the legs, the crimson faded to the light brown of a healthy stallion. The legs were unmistakably equine in their hooves but their structure is avian and thin with exposed kneecaps. A long, thin tail retreated into the darkness beyond.

  "You are here now." the horsehead declared.

  The voice came from the throat, but it didn't match the shape of the mouth. It was measured, deliberate, very normal.

  Eli's shoulders dropped slightly. His jaw somewhat unclenched as recognition washed warred with confusion.

  "We're sorry for bothering you," Eli said. His voice was steady despite the adrenaline still thrumming through his chest. "We're looking for Goat-Horned. We have a gift."

  The horsehead tilted slightly, the motion birdlike and wrong on such a large skull.

  "I am the one you seek," it said.

  Eli's eyebrow shot up. He turned to look at Isla, then back at the creature. He started to shake his head.

  "No you aren—" he began, but movement caught his peripheral vision. Lilith was nodding. Slow and certain.

  Eli's mouth went dry. He swallowed, the sound loud in his own ears.

  “Right. Sorry" He looked at the horsehead's reflective eyes. "It seems like no one else has any idea what state they are in."

  The devil in the woods was still.

  “Last night,” Isla began, breaking the silence “a meteorite from the planet Venus landed on Ear—” it huffed and began retreating, “—A stone, born of the Morning Star, descended upon the mortal world,” she finished, switching languages.”

  The horsehead huffed.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “You have suffered tremendously at the hands of the Scapegoat and mortalkind,” Lilith interjected, “He took your Purpose and perverted it, but now–thanks to a surprise gift from your Aunt…”

  She waved a hand at Eli, and the Stone at his neck suddenly was ablaze with scarlet hellfire fire.

  “We offer you a Great Sword.”

  Eli’s eyes got very wide and he wondered if his stomach could reach Hell before the rest of him.

  The creature’s face did not become more illuminated in the presence of the light of the Morning Star. The devil in the woods was still for a heartbeat. Two. Three.

  “Great Pan is dead,” it entoned.

  Isla inhaled sharply.

  “Yes,” Lilith spoke in a hiss.

  “Long live Great Pan,” it said.

  “What?”

  The horsehead snorted, then something close to rearing, and bat wings accosted the air in thunderous claps. Eli reached out and gripped Isla’s hand; she squeezed firmly in response.

  “My gift was to keep your eyes wide in the Dark but you learned to conjure your own Brights before understanding the Light. You see the shadows it casts as the Other rather than your own Dark. The Others suffer for my gift.” The horsehead began to slink back into the darkness.

  Something sharp twisted at Eli. It turned back to Lilith.

  “But the Scapegoat dealt you wound most terrible.” Lilith stumbled out. "The mortals?."

  “I suffered when the Scapegoat took my face, as all things eventually do in turn.” It turned back, and stared down gravely upon Eli and Isla. “Your entire race, all the children of the wilderness, even Mother has her fever and cough. Suffering is infinite, but choosing cruelty is uniquely mortal. Only man takes without need, only man seeks blind retribution, and only man sees devils in the Others."

  “You will not take it?” Lilith stumbled out

  “I have no claim to the Morning Star. I have no claim to the Stone,” it is huffed and turned away. “I am willing to taste the salt of your discarded bread.”

  They watched it go in jaw-loose silence.

  “Wait,” Eli said softly, “please.”

  It slowed but did not stop its retreat.

  “Your gift also brought people a lot of good times too. Lots of people were sad to see you go even if they did not know how to tell you. Maybe you don't have to be so hard on yourself all the time, you know?” Eli said.

  “Just as the rise of Lucifer may herald the coldest Darks, so too may the fall of the Morning Star herald the warmest Brights,” the Jersey Devil intoned.

  The shadows took it and it was gone.

  There was a moment of stillness before Lilith turned around and said, “At this point I believe it is best if the Scapegoat takes the–”

  She was thrown into the air, arms stretched horizontal, feet thrashing against nothing. Two scarlet hellfire cuffs held her suspended between the trees. The Stone of the Morning Star blazed at Eli's throat.

  Eli's left hand was extended toward Lilith. Isla's right. Their joined hands met between them. They spoke as one.

  "The pain of your own exile has corrupted your Sight.

  It has changed the hues that you can perceive.

  What was done to you was unjust and matters, but you do not have to play the Scapegoat's game.

  It has no power over us.

  Retribution is not a tool. Retribution is a weapon.

  Weapons are not tools.

  This is the Lie of Azazel.

  Weapons are for nothing more than mindless, animal violence.

  Tools reshape reality.

  Tools are the dialogue between you and your nature.

  Tools can reshape your nature.

  Tools can reshape your reality."

  Lilith's head snapped back. She screamed and exploded into onyx mist and campfire sparks that scattered into the canopy above. The scream continued through the dispersal, sourceless, threading between the trees until it wasn't a scream anymore but something closer to weeping.

  Then the mist began to fall.

  It drifted down through the thin threads of light like ash from a distant fire. When it finally reached the ground it pooled, gathered, shuddered.

  Lilith reformed slowly. First the shape of her, then the substance. She hit her knees in the wet earth and stayed there, breathing.

  Eli and Isla watched. Their hands were still joined between them. Neither spoke.

  When Lilith had fully recovered they three of them grouped up near the carriage and Knightmare. They walked along the carriage as they talked. It was jarring how quickly the depth of the Pine Barrens gave way to Anywhere in America.

  “Now what?” Isla asked.

  “I don’t know.” Eli said. “I guess we just have to keep it.”

  “I don’t…” Isla began, “if we do that then we can’t…”

  Lilith looked up, then between the two of them, and evidently decided the Knightmare was lonely and left the mages to their discussion.

  “I still want to try.” Eli said flatly.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Isla exclaimed, “We can’t if you are the Devil and I am Queen. We would end up pitted against each other eventually. Look at how much it has cost already.”

  “I know,” Eli said, “my mom always would say: ‘it is what it is.’”

  Isla shook her head. “Why would you want to keep trying?.” she asked.

  “Because I am an idiot.” Eli said. “And because it is real.”

  Isla blinked. “What?”

  “If it were not, we would not be hurting so much. If it were not real how would I know to say these things to you?” Eli asked.

  “I don’t know. How can I be sure?” She questioned.

  “Because our fucking souls touched.” Eli laughed “Just because it’s the End of Days does not mean we could not build something new,” then spoke gently, “In fact, I think it means we probably should.”

  Turquoise met emerald

  “Here you are at the end of the world wondering if your feelings are real. If mine are. Of course they are. They are the only things you can truly be sure are real. I feel therefore I am,” he said.

  “The world ended and you are still asking yourself about me?” he put his hand on hers, “I certainly have never stopped asking myself about you. Not once.”

  He held her other hand too now.

  “What feeling could possibly persist beyond the End of Days?” he asked. “Perhaps there is a word for us after all though I can only think of one.” He said. She blinked again.

  He gave her hands a squeeze.

  “Let’s make like a wizard and use symbolism to cast a spell.” Eli said.

  “What?” Isla laughed.

  “Let’s make the problem abstract,” he clarified.

  “Ahhh.” Isla said. “Thinking like a physicist.” He nodded.

  “There are parts of you that you are ashamed of. God knows there are parts of me that I am ashamed of. But we should not be perfect people. We should grow together, learn together, not expect to be perfect together on the first day. We are not perfect, we will never be perfect, we live in an imperfect universe.” He said.

  “A stone must be shaped with intention if it is to be useful. We have the stone. Suffering is infinite, cruelty is infinite, but we can choose how to wield it.” He continued.

  “We cannot use the stone to end all suffering and we cannot use the stone to prevent further suffering without powering it on our own. But the stone is ours, no one else's. We can use it to redefine the evil parts of ourselves into something good, the shameful parts of ourselves could instead blossom into something more beautiful than anything you could possibly imagine.” he said.

  “We can defy what has been expected of us like Lucifer, like Venus in retrograde, like a magnolia in bloom.”

  She stared at him wide eyed “you read my mind?”

  “No,” Eli said, “I simply love you.”

  She appeared then, just as the disk of the setting sun kissed the horizon.

  “Good evening lovelies!”