Calamity's trembling fist hovers in the air, a mere moment away from smashing the Mirror to pieces. The barren chamber echoes with her scream as with difficulty she works restraint upon herself. The fires of rage burn hot within her core and just – only just – does she manage to temper it. She would never have spared a moment to entertain the possibility that Mother Nature had failed to find and destroy the last of the nymphs, but that the Mirror answers her question with the wretched being's image forces her to embark upon a visit to the world of Man once again.
When she arrives, she finds herself bemused at the sight before her eyes. Mother Nature, it appears, is at war with humankind. Curiosity serves to dampen her impatience and anger – if only for a moment, and she seeks to learn more. She discovers that Man had pushed Mother Nature beyond the limits of her tolerance for their existence; the search that she had set them upon to procure the nymph's 'secret' led them to destroy swaths of Mother Nature's forests and muddy her lakes and streams. Mother Nature would no longer allow their callous treatment of her domain.
Despite herself, Calamity cannot help but grin when she learns that the news she brought to Mother Nature causes her in turn to discover the extent of Man's violence. She reasons that the nymph would have been long since discovered were it not for the distraction humankind unwittingly provide. Mother Nature knows her realm better than any other, and the nymph could not have hidden long here. Calamity briefly allows herself to watch as Mother Nature's wrath spills over the walls of Man's strongholds before considering where to seek her prey.
It would be folly for the nymph to dare to turn skyward in order to hide once more; Light and Darkness had set angels to prowl the skies night and day. Calamity knows that Darkness searches tirelessly for her quarry. Even despite the splitting of Mother Nature's attentions, it would be folly for the nymph to remain upon the earth, and so Calamity concludes that there is only one place left for her to run. This little game is almost at its end.
Calamity descends to the realm below Mother Nature's, a dark and cavernous land where naught but the souls of the once living reside. They and two other beings, to be more precise; her brothers by the hand of the Elder Gods, she supposes. As Mother Nature knows her realm far better than Calamity ever will, she seeks the master of this realm, the Keeper of Souls. Unfortunately, she knows him to be an evasive being; she does not wish to waste time in a laborious effort to find him. Fortunately, his companion by means of the work they both tend to is far more easily locatable.
"Calamity", Death rasps as he answers to her call, "such an honour".
His eyes rove over her form as he speaks and she fights to restrain the plain disgust that is born within her breast from reaching her face. At least for now. She is long acquainted with Death; he is one of the earliest sons of the Elder Gods, lecherous in his manner and grotesque in appearance. It shames her to dwell within his presence, but to find the Keeper she needs him, and with blatant arrogance Death shows her that he knows this.
"Where is the Keeper?" she demands of him.
"Come now, dear sister", Death drawls, and she hates him all the more for addressing her as such. "We have not supped and dined in each other's company for so long".
"Such a thing pleases me greatly. Now tell me where the Keeper hides himself".
"I will, I will", Death assures her. "But first, you would grant me one favour, yes?"
He floats in a languid circle around her person, and she can feel his eyes upon her skin. She knows of course what favour he desires of her; he tirelessly requests it despite the manner in which she often chooses to refuse him. She spends a moment to ponder whether to refuse him in such a manner now – it would certainly draw the Keeper's attention. And his ire. Death takes her silence for an answer and dares to trail cold fingertips along her shoulder. There is a flash of blue light, accompanied by the sound of steel puncturing flesh.
"Oh, sweet sister…thou art cruel", Death groans in agony.
She chooses not to regard him as he sinks to his knees, impaled upon her sword. She does however savour the delightful satisfaction of his death at her hand. But of course, Death himself cannot perish; Calamity knows this, and it is why she is certain that the Keeper will find her soon. Her patience is rewarded not long after Death's form crumbles to dust.