Once Calipisa left the hall, and got a safe distance away from Mt. Olympus, she let the tears that she had been holding back flow. Her love was dead, and there was virtually no possibility of bringing him back and restoring him to his world. In her sadness she did not see where she was going, and so she ended up back at the boy’s house. She could feel that there were lots of people in his house, and so she just sat outside on the front stoop. She let the droplets slide down her face, silently proclaiming her defeat to the world. She would never forgive Aphrodite, or Zeus, for what they had done.

‘Let them see how they fare in the next war,’ she thought bitterly to herself.

“Excuse me dear, are you lost?” An older woman had come out and was looking down at Calipsia.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry…I was just on my way.” Calipsia stood, brushing herself off.

“Oh no, you’re fine honey…this place is a good place for a sob.” The woman heaved a huge sigh and sat in one of the wicker chairs that was crammed onto the tiny veranda.

Timidly, Calipsia sat down in the other chair beside her, not wanting to intrude, but since she had been invited, she didn’t want to be rude.

“Inside that house is suffocating…too many people crying about and looking at pictures of my grandson.” The woman sipped her ice tea, “Seems like just yesterday he was sitting out here with me, discussing all the problems in this city…and then the next he’s in the ground next to my husband. Too young, too young.”

“I’m sorry,” Callipsia murmured, “I can’t even begin to imagine.” She looked at the woman, curious to hear her take on the boy, “What was he like?”

The woman proceeded to recall all of the fond memories of her grandson, from when he was a toddler, to when he started school, to when he started turning the city into a better place, to—just recently—when he met a girl that he wouldn’t tell her about, but who she knew was someone special. Interspersed with the conversation were burst of laughter, and mists of tears.

“So, my child, what were you doing out here on the stairs?” The old woman was curious about this oddly dressed young lady who had been crying so bitterly on her stairs.

“I lost my heart…he’s in a different world.” Calipsia said softly, trying not to divulge any secrets.

“I’m sorry child.” The woman scooted to pull her into her embrace.

“Its just…,” tears began to flow again, “it sounds crazy, but I don’t even know much about his life, or even his name…but I knew HIM.” She whispered, “We were deeply in love…and someone sabotaged it.”

“I know how hard it is," whispered the woman. "I know what it's like." She rubbed Calipsia's back, and stroked her hair. 

"I feel as though a piece of me, a piece of my soul, has been ripped away," Calipsia choked out. 

They sat there for awhile, united in their grief. The city raged on around them, cars whizzing by, lights flashing, people talking and shouting, as day turned into night. Finally a man came out.

"Mother...it's late." He spoke softly, "Let's go to bed." Then he noticed Calipsia, "Hello."

"Greetings," she murmured back. The older woman gave her one last squeeze.

"Goodnight child," and pulling away, "come again...maybe when things are not so sorrowful for the both of us." With that, she went inside. Calipsia stood up, nodding to the man.

"You have a wonderful mother."

The man smiled wistfully, "I do at that." He reached for Calipsia's hand, "Goodnight, Miss...?"

"Callie." She took his hand, "My name is Callie...goodnight to you sir." 

The man gave her one last smile and headed into the house after his mother. Calipsia walked out into the street, pulling from her hat and donning her shadow cloak. Before leaving, however, she flicked a hand out, sending a sheen of purplish smoke around the house, which glimmered for a moment before fading.

'At the very least, I can protect those that he loved,' she thought to herself. The spell she had cast was a warding, a powerful warding that would keep all evil and misfortune away. Then she turned, flying back up to Olympus to see if the gods had found a solution.