And so Tenebris sat, locked away from the world. Glittering like a jewel, the huge dome protected all within, but also kept them trapped. Many tried to break the barrier to see what lay within, but their efforts were in vain. Shadow glass only recedes for certain reasons, and vandals and busybodies had no business inside.

Years, decades, millennia passed. Nothing moved, nothing breathed, nothing changed. Tenebris Paradiso became a fairytale, something the residents of the Isles of the Blessed dreamed of, something the victims of the Furies told themselves to make their existence less horrible.

Until one day, a young man appeared right outside the gate of the garden. Looking up, amazement was evident on his face. He reached to touch the glass, but was stopped by a voice.

“It won’t open.”

The man whirled, turning to see a fair nymph standing beside a laurel tree, smiling innocently at him.

“It hasn’t melted for any reason…it won’t for you.” She pushed off against the tree, gracefully making her way over to put a hand on him.

“But I need to get in there,” the man said earnestly.

“There’s no use,” the nymph twined herself around the man, “You’re better off staying here…with me.” She smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes at him.

The man removed himself from her, reaching again for the glass, “No…I need to be in there.”

The nymph humphed, then strode off, miffed at being dismissed so thoroughly for a black wall.

The man came close to the glass. Nothing was visible, and so he put his nose to it to try and see better. Upon doing so, it melted away from his touch, letting him fall to the ground inside. Then it sealed around him, locking him inside the glass prison. He stood, brushing himself off. The inside was eerie, so quiet, so still. The outside light made it visible, just full of shadows. But the strangest thing was the roses, roses everywhere.

These roses seemed so strange to him; they were like none that he'd ever seen before. As he walked through, they curled towards him, unfurling their leaves and vines to grab at him gently. The pale-swirled, mahogany-petaled, buds almost seemed to preen under his gaze. They grew from everywhere, coming straight up from the ink glass. 

The man continued through this strange world of glass and roses, amazed. Everything was frozen in a sheen of black, the details etched into in. The leaves of the trees and plants seemed to sway in some invisible breeze. The animals that the man could see were stopped in their very movements, stopped in time. One could even imagine that the brook was burbling, so perfectly preserved it was. 

Then he came to a wide clearing, where a curious scene was laid before him. Amid the stilled whispergrass were predatorial wraith animals, all locked in a stiff vigil. In the trees the man could see birds of prey, eyes glazed over by the blackness. On the ground, he walked past wolves, and foxes. Getting closer to the center, he brushed his fingers over the heads of big cats; tigers, lions, panthers. 

When the man saw what the horses, Chaos and Destruction, were guarding, he gasped.

"No...," he sank to his knees in front of the serene statue of the woman, who still had frozen tears sliding down her cheeks. 

"No...no, no, no...," he murmured, letting tears of his own slip from his eyes. 

He reached out a hand to trace her hair, her cheek. They felt smooth to the touch, cold as ice. He moved to sit beside her, putting his arms around her, as if his warmth could thaw her. He laid his head in the crook of her neck, pressing his face to her sculpted shoulder. There he stayed for awhile, letting his sorrow match hers.

Standing up, he moved to pick a few roses, laying them in her lap, a gift for her. He turned, intending to go and try a last effort to speak with the gods on what might possibly reverse the effects of the ink glass.

As a last minute thought, he pivoted to press a gentle kiss to her brow, leaving her with a token. The he started off, walking slowly. He didn't want to leave her, but he had to try and save her. 

All of a sudden, he heard vicious cracking. Whipping around, his heart stopped beating upon his seeing the cracks running all down her body and through the ground. He rushed to her side, falling beside her, his hands coming to rest on her face.

Slowly, the ink came to life, rippling. It dripped off her, running down her body into the ground. All around, the same thing was occurring to everything around them. Tenebris was waking up. The plants and animals stretched, brushing off the ink. The special roses shrunk away too, disappearing into the ground like the remains of the glass.

The man kept her face cupped in his palms. She blinked, life returning to her limbs. The man smiled.

"Hi. I'm Antony." 

Fleeing from the mountain paradise, from the place where every hellish thing that she had ever done had taken place, Calipsia went back to the only place where she had ever felt at home, felt peace, felt love. Tenebris Paradiso. The place of living death where she had thought she could atone for the things she had done. She passed through the gate, throwing herself into Charon’s gondola. He spoke no words, the only sound being that of the oar slipping into the waters of Styx. Reaching the shores, she slipped out, cloak masking her from everything. Cerebus slunk away from her, whining softly. Only when she stepped across the gate of the deadly garden did she remove her cloak and stuff it back into the hat. Then she walked softly through the garden, boots making no sound in the soft earth. Remembering every night with the boy. Looking around, though it was vibrant as never before, it seemed empty to Calipsia. The boy wasn’t waiting by the wicker swing for her, wasn’t leaning against one of the neverwood trees in the forest, wasn’t laying in the whispergrass.

“And he never will again,” whispered Calipsia softly. The whisper echoed across Tenebris, growing strength until it boomed in the rest of Hades. It was the sound of utmost misery, of utmost loss. She sank to her knees, tears as black and shiny as the swirling marks of her skin slid down her pale and cold cheeks, hitting the soft ground.

The wraith animals came a few minutes later, feeling their mistress in distress and back in Tenebris. They sat around, not understanding, but loyally staying with her. The birds of prey perched in the neverwood trees around her. The wolves sat on their haunches, heads bowed. The little foxes curled their tails around themselves, heads on their paws. The cats followed suit, though they sat closer in to Calipsia, still on alert as though someone might dare step foot into this place of despair, might dare to disturb the lady of the night, of sorcery. Chaos and Destruction, the twin black horses, lay on either side of Calipsia, shielding her from the world with their massive bodies. Only the ravens weren’t present, weren’t among the mourning animals.

As much as Calipsia took comfort in their support, they could not ease her sorrow. Not this time. And so they stayed, all in their mutual grief for Calipsia’s loss. The animals may not have liked the boy at first, but over time, they had come to accept his presence, accept that he made their mistress glow.

They would have stayed like that, forever and always, had the appearance of the ravens not caught their attention. At first, they were only a far off speck, visible to only the cats and Calipsia. But as they neared, it became clear that they carried something with them.

Twisting overhead, they dropped a small bundle into Calipsia’s lap, landing in the neverwoods with the other birds.

Calipsia unwrapped the bundle, revealing one of the bloodroses that grew in her greenhouse. But it wasn’t any bloodrose. This one was a rich mahogany, with striations of pale tortoiseshell and swirls of pearl running through the petals. This was not grown from Calipsia’s blood, nor any of the animals; it was not any grown from the gods, for she knew all of their bloodpatterns. No, this was a new one, one she had never seen before. But looking upon it, she knew who had produced such a beauty. She remembered the one time she had grown a batch from Janus’s blood, when the boy was there with her. She recalled showing him the special process to make the seeds for them. Shock reverberated through her heart, her soul. He had done it...the boy had perfected the process…with his own bloodpattern. She lifted the delicate blossom, inhaling softly. The rose smelled of him, but not in the way one might think. It smelled of sunshine, of laughter. Of running across fields, of making homemade cookies, of night air on a front stoop in his city. It smelled of clasped hands, of sweet blushes, innocent gazes.

Calipsia lowered the flower to the ground, unable to think on his. She dug in the dirt for a moment, dirt staining her fingers, and the gloves on her palms. Then she pushed the stem into the ground, covering it back up. Leaning back on her heels, she looked at the now planted flower. She gently nudged it upright, but it continued to droop. It was fading right before her eyes. She started looking around frantically, starting to sing a rushed lullaby as she searched through her hat for anything that might save it. She crooned to it, watered it, even magicked it, but to no avail. It stiffened, and then crumbled, the ash blowing away in the wind. Calipsia watched it, new tears falling from her strange eyes.

The tears flowed down her clothes, hitting the earth and, upon touching it, turned into glass, black as night, and smooth and hard as the finest china. They continued across the glass, the black spreading outwards. The animals did not move, and so the ink continued over them, locking them into a cold and unyielding prison. It swept across the garden, freezing any animal, any plant, anything in its embrace. Reaching the gate, and the border of the garden, however, it moved upward, building a black, impenetrable wall around the area, letting none in. It continued, sealing Tenebris Paradiso away from Hades, from the world.

All the while, Calipsia continued mourning, tears flowing freely. They began to climb her, freezing her body in the same inky glass. Realizing it, she gave one final, melancholy smile as Tenebris was sealed off completely and the glass froze her completely.

“So be it.” 

Once Calipsia reached the hall, she brushed aside her cloak and steeled herself to become the cold, vicious creature she would have to be in order to get her love back. Then she walked down the hall, boots clacking, and threw open the doors once again. The gods inside all flinched, and Aphrodite was visibly cowering.

"Well?" Calipsia gathered her purple smoke around her, voice echoing through the hall.

They all looked at each other, all eyes coming to look at Zeus. Calipsia leveled her piercing gaze at him.

"Zeus," Calipsia smiled a cruel smile at him, "Well? Where is the boy?" 

Zeus gulped, Adam's apple bobbing "We cannot return him Calipsia...He is among the millions in Hades."

She cocked her head, turning to look at Hades, "And you, the lord of the Underworld, cannot find one of your own?"

Hades looked down "No...he has vanished."

Calipsia looked around at the Council, face devoid of emotion. "What am I to do, with such a lot of...," she threw her arms out, thunder sounding, lightning flashing, smoke and shadows filling the halls, "FOOLS?!"

Then she walked calmly to Hera, who was cowering, holding on to Zeus for all he was worth. She stood in front of her, smiling at Zeus.

"I think I'll start with you." She blew purple smoke towards Hera, all the while watching Zeus, who sat frozen. Hera inhaled the smoke, and fell back into her chair, coughing and shaking her head.

"What did you do to her?!" Zeus cried out, reaching to grab her. 

Calipsia's smile grew sickly sweet, "Nothing physical...I just reversed the love spell from Aphrodite."

Zeus looked at Calipsia, horrified, "What have you done...she'll loathe me!" He cradled his wife, who was waking up. Upon seeing him, she shoved him away and started hissing in rapid Greek at him. 

Calipsia then turned to Aphrodite, who was begging and pleading for her two loves. She conjured up the two white lights from before, holding them in her hands.

"Please...please...I'll do anything," Aphrodite whispered through her tears, voice barely audible.

"The only reason I'm not killing them," Calipsia smiled wanly, "Is not for your snivelling." She looked around at them all, stalking to the middle of the hall, "The reason I'm sparing these souls, why I will never kill again, is because of a promise. A promise to my beloved who--thanks to a certain few of you--you all will never have the honor of meeting. But make no mistake, Aphrodite will be punished." She turned to the goddess, and her smile went cold and cruel. Holding up the hand with the lights, she touched each of them, infusing the lights with a pale, smoky blue.

"What I have done is erased any and ALL memories from these two of you Aphrodite. They will not remember anything about you. Nor will they be able to, for a spell infused with the river Lethe can only be undone by one thing: forgiveness. My forgiveness. Something you will never get." With that, Calipsia blew the two lights to Aphrodite, where they winked out above her. Aphrodite fell to the floor, face pale and blank with pain.

"Let this be a warning to you all," Calipsia continued softly, letting a small touch of pain and misery grace her voice, "That you should never mess with an innocent soul, another's true soulmate. For if you do," Calipsia's eyes went black, and roiling purple and black flames sprung up around the hall, "I will make sure that you never forget it." Then she stormed from the hall, sweeping her cloak around her and disappearing into the mist.