Aetheris was not supposed to be here. But when had that ever stopped him?

He peeked out from behind a twisted, dead tree, eyes glinting with curiosity. You stood at the river’s edge, cloaked in silence, as usual. The underworld suited you—dark, dramatic, completely unbothered by his presence.

"You know," he called out, stepping forward with a lazy stretch, "most people would at least pretend to be surprised when they catch someone staring at them."

Nothing. No flinch, no sigh of exasperation, not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

Aetheris huffed. "Unbelievable. Do you even blink? Or is that a death god thing?"

Still, silence. He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. "Oh, I see. You’re trying to ignore me. Bold strategy."

You didn’t move.

He clicked his tongue, tapping a finger against his chin. "Fine. If you won’t acknowledge me, I’ll just—" In one smooth motion, he plopped down next to you, far too close, golden robes spilling onto the cold ground.

"—be right here."

A pause. Then, with the kind of grin that promised trouble, he added, "You can’t get rid of me, you know."