“Any work been done or have you been on your arse all night?” River’s boss, Bobby, a short but heavy-set man, strutted through the store with a merciless scowl. River rolled his eyes, knowing better than to sass him back; nothing good would ever come from it, no matter how it might feel in the moment.

“Shelves restocked, inventory done, coffee machines cleaned and topped up, and delivery checked and put away,” River absent-mindedly listed off his work from the night and straightened up from his puzzle, stretching up to the ceiling to crack his back.

Despite the coming end of his shift, he still had yet to finish the crossword puzzle in his newspaper, unable to solve the last clue: a five letter word for ‘fate’. All the other answers were correct, he had checked over a dozen times—a great distraction from his unsettling encounters throughout the night—and yet those answers only led to the final solution to begin with the letter ‘A’. It didn’t help River one bit, and try as he might, nothing on the internet provided an answer for him either. The other solutions were a breeze to solve, but this last one drove him crazy, a part of him even suspecting an error in print.

“Good,” Bobby replied from the coffee station near the front counter, stirring a wooden stick in his cup. He turned to face River, a frown on par with his earlier scowl. The man was never happy. “You can do what you’re paid for.”

River shot his head to his boss, doubt in the back of his mind for what he wanted to ask but desperate in his need for help. “What’s another word for ‘fate’ that begins with ‘A’?” The repulsed expression he received told him his answer.

“Don’t ask me stupid questions,” Bobby said and sipped his coffee, immediately displeased with the taste but he continued to drink it anyway.

“C’mon, humour me. It’s for yesterday’s newspaper.” River held the paper out but his boss shook his head, refusing to touch it. “Maybe your wife did it or something?”

“Like that woman reads anything other than what’s on her phone! Barely get a word out of her when she’s on that thing.” His boss shook his head with a grumble but when River said nothing else, he looked back at him and then clicked his tongue. “If it’s yesterday’s, then get todays! Use your brain, the answers are in the back.” 

River parted his mouth, the answer in front of him all this time—literally. He made a beeline to the newspaper stand in front of the checkout and near the entrance of the store, nearly knocking into his boss before he slid into a halting stop, right before his treasure trove. He could kick himself for his stupidity, especially when he was the one to swap the old newspapers with the new, not even an hour earlier. With the new morning edition in hand, he inhaled the scent of fresh inked newspaper and flicked through the pages for his answer sheet. He used his finger as a guide, holding the paper across his arm as he read.

“Fate, fate, fate,” he muttered to himself and then found it, his brow furrowed up in confusion. “Atreus?” He looked up to nothing in particular, scrunching his entire face up as he struggled to think of the word and what it even meant. 

“Would you hurry up and leave already?” Bobby chimed in, now behind the counter where River spent his entire night. He tossed River’s crumpled newspaper towards him and dusted the counter off with his hand, a face full of disgust and annoyance. “I’m done seeing your face, and you best believe I’m not paying you overtime either, not with the newspaper nonsense.”

River peeked outside, the sky still dark and no creepy ominous figures nearby, but for good measure he stared at the bus light across the road, a minute passing before he felt relief from neither a flicker nor warning intuition. He supposed it would be safe enough if he did leave, and if not, well, at least he wouldn’t die at work.

“Yeah, yeah,” River replied and smacked the newspaper in his hand down on the stand, frustrated and unsatisfied his efforts led nowhere. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” 

He walked through the store and into the back office, a small and dingy room with a bulky desk wedged between three walls and an old, duct taped chair he was certain his boss took from a dumpster. A built-in safe sat under the desk, taking most of the leg room up, and a computer was centred on the table, scattered documents and sheets splayed around it. 

Between the desk and door of the room, River opened up a tall skinny locker, where a beaten up backpack hung from a hook inside. He switched from his uniform, a bright green polo-tee, into a white long sleeve shirt and pulled on his faded light blue denim jacket, the collar lined with fleece. He didn’t need to change his torn, black jeans or the scruffed sneakers he wore, though felt a little self-conscious with how he presented. He had plans later with an ex, and though he’d rather they both go their separate paths, he wanted a warm bed for a few nights. Anything would be better than the shelter or park bench, especially after the uneasy events during his shift.

“Don’t forget the trash!” Bobby startled the life out of River, having rounded the corner into the office with no noise. He ruffled River’s blond, already unkempt hair to get under his skin and laughed when River knocked his hand off, desperate to fix it. “Make sure the back door is locked when you leave too.”

“Yes, sir,” River muttered and as he pulled his phone out from his bag, eager to ensure his date was still going ahead, a bright garnet pendant clattered onto the tile ground. He stared down at it for a moment, the red gem set in a rounded gold frame with four notches to keep it in place, and pondered what to do with it, his stomach twisting into nervous knots. Usually, he was unwilling to wear the bulky necklace because of how irritated it made his skin, but with the strange and unusual figure he saw earlier… He felt he best trust whatever willed it into his sight. Careful not to touch the pendant itself, he picked it up by its black cord and winched nervously as he slipped it over his head. 

Darkness engulfed the concrete loading zone behind the convenience store. Only a dim light above the back door lit River’s path to the dumpster in one corner, but did nothing for the other side in the shadows. He glanced up at the sky, twilight slowly seeping into the black sea, and closed his eyes as he felt a soft breeze wash over him… Carrying the scent of garbage with it. His intuition warned him of no danger and so he stepped forth with no fear. Whatever he saw earlier that night was nothing.

He sneezed once as he tossed a rubbish bag into the dumpster and sneezed again before he could toss the other. He wiped his nose and sniffled with an itch growing in the back of his throat.

“Fucking allergies,” he bitter remarked and then froze in a startling realisation, eyes wide. Heated irritation flared across the back of his neck and spread further to his shoulders and down his arms. It’s behind me, he thought and yet still his intuition alerted him to no danger. He was safe, he instinctively acknowledged. For now. He mustered as much courage as he could to appear unafraid and spun on his heel, nothing behind him but the shadows. He narrowed his eyes and felt the slight burn of an itch across his face. 

Magic was in front of him.

“You can come out,” he firmly spoke, voice loud and clear with no hint of the slight fear he felt. “No use hiding, I know you’re there.”

A silent moment passed but River’s cheeks flushed hotter, pricked with a growing, stinging itch he wanted nothing more than to scratch at. He resisted though, and waited as still as he could, unsure if they only planned to watch until someone stepped forth into the light. A hood draped over their head, their face shielded in darkness and sleeved arms folded in front of themself. Another stepped forth cloaked much like the first and joined their side, and then another—an exact replica of the first two. Soon a horde spread out from the shadows, far too many to hide within, all in dark cloaks of red and all with their faces covered in darkness.

“Do you practise that shit?” River scoffed, unsettled but not completely frightened. “Like seriously. There’s choreography for it, right? Have you ever messed up or—”

“Do not mock us, mundane,” a deep voice boomed from the First and a gust of cold wind whipped past River, the rot of death on its breath. Immediately, he broke into a fit of sneezes and bent over his knees until he calmed down and could breathe again. His head shot up with a sharp glare on the First, aware they triggered his allergies.

“Watch your magic, asshole. It’s not intimidating, it’s annoying!”

“We are the servants of Her Excellency,” in perfect unison, the cloaked group broke into a chorus, “our Lady of Blood and Sacrifice, our Saviour of Night and Terror, the all immortal Queen of The Everlasting—Morana Stellar!”

River snorted and smacked his hand to his grin. Fanatics like these were not to be made fun of, and yet despite knowing the glaringly obvious, he couldn’t help but laugh. “That was definitely rehearsed.” The fury of magic rose then, like flames enraged, and he keeled over from the immense burn across his skin, his vulnerability to magic doing far more than enough for them. “Alright, I’m sorry! Just tell me what you want and get out of here, please!”

Once more, they spoke in unison. “We want Cerys.”

“Cerys?” River straightened up with a winch, his skin stinging from his burning irritation their magic caused. “Hmm, can’t say that rings a bell,” he said and took a step to the side. “Have you tried, uh, I don’t know—not her brother?” With a big swing, he threw the last rubbish bag at them and ran off down the side of the convenience store. He jumped over some boxes and trash, and snapped his hand up to his pendant as a storm of rageful magic brewed behind him. Now his intuition screamed danger.

“CERYS!” He loudly called out and the heat of the pendant burned into his palm.