Chapter Twenty-Three: Poem

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  *Chaos Realm*

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*Chaos Realm*

     Time passed for Lady Chaos, about seventy years at least. The Lords of Chaos believed her when she presented the heart of Matthias, though it was simply not his, but that of Vassilis, and his body to appear like Matthias. She found a powerful spell within the Darkhold and she performed it without any problem. Powerful enough to even blind the Lords of Chaos to the fact that they were being deceived by their own creation. Just like that, they did not question it, and left her to run her realm like she has done for millions of years.

The Queen walks the corridor of the palace, finding her way back to her room. She notices that the door was ajar, but she knew she locked it. She liked to be private in her own chambers. Calliope enters, and sees the back of a woman, she was black, and was wearing a dress; styled like she just came from Greece.

"Death?" Lady Chaos announces, arching up her eyebrow as Death turned on the spot, and offered a pleasant smile.

"Hello, Lady of Chaos," she was formal, as her smile lessened, but remained on her face.

"What are you doing in my private chambers, and that of my realm?" Calliope was snappy, as she was in no mood for visitors, nor to entertain one of the Endless. "I have no souls for you to take," she went on, thinking that she was here because of that nature.

"I am sorry to intrude Lady Chaos, but I have someone here that wants to speak to you," she frowned at the words Death had spoken, she didn't know anyone who would want to speak to Chaos, besides other beings. "He was very adamant in seeing you," Death went on, but she was just a guide, and a mode of transport for the departed souls. The man in question appeared from behind her, as if he was there all belong. He steps out of her shadow, and into the light, coming beside Death. The man was old, very old, his face full of wrinkles, sagging in places.

"Calliope," his words were slow, and low. But her eyes widened in shock, no one else knew that name, beside her and one another. Stunned, she steps closer, as he did the same, but slower than her. They met in the middle, and she stared into those brown eyes of his. Tears swell in her own eyes, as she tilted her head ever so slightly.

"Matthias," she choked his name out, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "Is that you?" She questioned, raising her right hand up to crease his cheek. Feeling that old texture of his skin, it felt rough.

"It is," he went on, leaning into Calliope's hand, finding comfort. "How I have missed you," he states, sounding so odd she could hardly recognise it. It was only his eyes that she recognised him for. They did not change.

"Ho-How," Calliope was rarely at a loss for words. But the shock of it all, she pulled her hand away from him, and stumbled back, making Matthias look surprised at her action. "No. No," she was having a breakdown, and it was clear to Death and Matthias.

"Once he died, I felt a part of him was lost, and I found out why," Death announces, stepping forward and next to Matthias. "By powerful magic. Your magic. Once I removed it, the memories flooded back for him. And he wanted to come say his goodbyes," Death was treading on very thin ice with Calliope.

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