THEODOSIUS HAD SUFFERED.

Ever since the untimely demise of his beloved wife, he had drifted through his days, surviving rather than truly living as he searched for a way to bring her back. His life had ended abruptly when he was eaten to death by Bihatra, the demoness whose infernal aid had enabled him to win Tansy's affections in the first place. After sixteen years in a purgatorial queue, he had struck a deal with the Devil himself to restore Tansy to life in exchange for a brief stint as a spiritual bounty hunter.

If you, Dear Reader, would be so bold as to ask our wizened sorceror-cum-necromancer if he had had a good life, he would have snorted and then broken down into tears, and Theo is not a pretty crier. He redefines "ugly cry."

Before Tansy's death? Yes, Theo had lived a good life. Very good indeed, for a little while.

After?

No, Dear Reader. No, life after Tansy had not been very good at all.

But now, Tansy was coming home, and all Theo's suffering was about to change into delirious bliss.

***

Wait. What?

Oh, Jiminy Christmas. You've got to be kidding me. Give me a minute to check my notes.

This can't be right! The readers are going to be furious!

...Well. Not much I can do about it.

Ahem.

All of Theodosius's suffering was supposed to change into delirious bliss...

...but it didn't.

***

It was a gorgeous spring day at the End of the World. Even before Theo opened his eyes, he could smell the vibrance of the world around him: damp soil, green leaves, budding flowers. A cool breeze whisked by him, rustling the grass and kissing his cheeks, and birdsong followed. The sun was warm and its golden glow reached him even through his eyelids. The promise of light opened his eyes without his conscious decision.

There, a short distance away, was the little cottage with its blue-shingled roof. It was both a welcome sight and a disheartening one: after Theo had lost Tansy, he had allowed their homestead to slide for nine years into shameful disrepair. The grounds were overgrown, the vegetable and herb gardens Tansy had tended so lovingly long ago blended back into the wild meadow. The house itself looked like a hiccup in the natural landscape rather than a man-made structure, it was so mossy and green. The roof definitely needed some attention—more attention than the goat currently grazing on it could feasibly supply.

Then again, Theo had queued at the Mouth of Hell for sixteen years, and what he was looking at now was a home that might have gone unkempt for a decade, but which had certainly not gone unkempt for two and a half decades. Maybe Heaven, or Hell, or the unaffiliated Powers That Be had plonked him and his wife back into a time and a space very near to the day he had died.

Theo turned with a slightly embarrassed smile to Tansy. "I really let things go, Tansy. I know it needs some work, but—"

He blinked and stared, his words failing him. Tansy stood a couple of yards away from him. She was looking down at her hands, her brow wrinkled with confusion. She was just as she had been in Heaven: transparent, ethereal, barely there. She was still dressed in her brilliant white robes.

"Theo?" Tansy asked, a note of panic in her voice.

"Oh," said Theo by way of response, his heart dropping through his diaphragm, his stomach, and his pelvis, right through the space between his flip-flops and into the damp earth.

"I can't feel the grass." Tansy lifted the hem of her robe, watching with a frown of consternation as she poked her bare toes through the lush grass carpeting the meadow. Then she took a step. The blades moved very slightly, as if she had sighed at them rather than attempted to smush them with her foot. Theo could see the grass through Tansy's body.

"Oh," said Theo.

"Well, that is inconvenient." This dry observation could have come from none other than Elliott. He was perched on a rock nearby, watching the scene from empty eye sockets. In the sunlight, he was very handsome indeed, each fine bone brilliantly highlighted.

"Theo?" Tansy looked at him, her beautiful eyes wide with fear. Or with horror. "What's happening?"

Now that they were here, at the end of their journey, what had happened was abundantly clear to Theodosius: Tansy had returned to him...in precisely the same state she had been when he had reunited with her in Heaven.

She was a spirit. A soul.

She no longer had a body to inhabit.

"Theodosius!" Tansy cried, wrenching Theo's attention back from his private mental meanderings. She was flailing her arms—and she was floating away.

"Tansy?!" Theo raced after her, his heart thumping in terror. He didn't know what was happening; it looked like Tansy's floaty, ghostly body was simply being pushed along an invisible conveyor belt. After a second or two, she stopped—but he didn't, and he ended up tripping right through her and landing in a heap on the grass.

"Oh, my goodness, I'm sorry." She had her hands knotted into her rampant curls and was gazing down at Theo, distraught. "I don't know what happened. I just—"

Again, Tansy began to move, apparently unable to stop herself. The sweet spring breeze rustled the grass, and Tansy swung her arms out, instinctively seeking something to latch onto and failing to find it. The wind buffeted her gently, pushing her away from Theo, farther into the meadow.

"No—"

Theo sprang to his feet and hurried after Tansy again. They were not up against a hurricane-force gale, thankfully, and the breeze had only moved Tansy a yard or so before fizzling out. He took her hand, grasping her as firmly as he could. Her touch was insubstantial, a whisper, a memory. Grief and terror burned in Theo's throat. Would he be able to keep hold of her, or would she be doomed to float through the world at the mercy of the winds?

"Come on," Theo said. "We're going inside. Come on, I've got you. Elliott, help me."

"I don't know what you think I can do," Elliott muttered, but he leapt off his rock nevertheless and chose a dainty path through the thick grass toward Tansy. The trio set off toward their home, Tansy and Theo clutching one another by the hands and Elliott following them at a leisurely pace. After a while, the barely-there brush of Tansy's skirt through the grass drew his interest, and he passed the time by watching carefully, wiggling his bony haunches, and then leaping to attack. He repeated this pattern many times before they reached the cottage, much to Theo and Tansy's annoyance—but it did seem to give Tansy a bit more of an anchor to the spot when the breeze picked up and Elliott was clinging to her clothes with his claws.

Theo tried the door but found it locked. He dimly recalled locking it himself with a shaking hand as he welcomed Sweetbriar, the doomed Maple Leaf Scout, into the cottage. "Bother," he muttered.

With a disdainful sigh, Elliott approached. "Kneel down, and I'll get it," he said. Theo got down on all fours and Elliott leapt nimbly up onto his shoulders, extended a sharp claw, and picked the cottage's lock.

"Handy skill, that," said Tansy.

"Oh, yes." Theo nodded. After Elliott had dismounted, he got back to his feet and brushed off his robes. "Came in very handy on our recent death-defying quest."

"Your...?"

"It's a long story, sweetheart. Let's get settled first." Theo opened the door to the cottage and peered inside. It was dark and smelled of damp and mildew; when light cut a path over the floor from the doorway, small things skittered quickly away. The place was littered with dead leaves and festooned with cobwebs.

At the first creak of Theo's foot on the floorboards, something stirred in the shadows. It was large and disgruntled and probably had very sharp teeth.

Theo's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "This was supposed to be our happily ever after." 

Everything didn't go as expected?

Who could have predicted that?  I mean, if this isn't a story about happy, fluffy, peaceful things, what are y'all doing here? 

If you're interested in Theo's continued suffering, though...keep on reading. 😊