The jar is suddenly snatched out of his grasp. He looks up, startled, to find Mytha standing in front of him. Somehow, he hadn't noticed her stand up and walk across the room, and he wonders if it was the star that had held him in its grasp or his own inner demon.

The shopkeeper places the jar back on the shelf and looks at him sternly. "Do you want to kill yourself, child?"

Cal clenches his teeth together tightly, the anger quickly snapping him out of his shock, until his jaw begins to ache. 

"And if I have reason to want to kill myself," he snarls, voice laced with venom, "it's because of you. How can you stand here and so casually say that you were the cause of the Great Calamity? How many people have died because of you? How many people live empty half lives because of you?"

Mytha looks completely unfazed by Cal's outburst as she leans casually against the wall by the shelf, just within arm's reach of the star.

"Getting angry won't help you, child."

She's probably right. Anger will only make him think less clearly. He needs to stay calm, figure out what's going on, maybe get some more information from this woman, and then get as far away from her as possible. But knowing this doesn't really help; the rage still burns red hot behind his eyes, filling his senses, and the voice in his head doesn't help--it continues to tell him to free the star.

"So, what?" Cal grinds out. "Do you want me to just forgive you? My family is dead, and now I find out that you are the reason for that. Do you really expect me not to get angry?"

She smiles softly. "So you want revenge, child?"

His body trembles and he feels the aching need to reach out and strangle the woman, crush her throat in his hands, feel her bones splinter and break, watch her gasp for air and struggle mightily beneath him.

He blinks and shudders at the thought.

"What I want," he snaps, "is answers. You owe me that much at least."

"Yes, yes," the woman says, waving a hand dismissively at him. "You'll get your answers, but first, take a seat." She gestures to the upended chair.

Cal doesn't want to sit in her presence; he wants to be on his feet and ready for anything, but he supposes the chances of her actually be dangerous are low. If she meant to harm him, surely she'd have done it by now and surely she wouldn't have told him that she'd had a part in the Great Calamity.

He rights the chair and sits down, glaring at the shopkeeper all the while.

Mytha appears completely nonplussed by Cal's hostility as she casually takes her own seat and leans forward, her elbows resting on her legs and her chin in her hands. She smiles benignly.

"Shall we begin?" she asks.

Cal scowls and opens his mouth to ask her a question, but she cuts him off with a shushing noise, like a mother might quiet a child, and his face flushes red.

"Let me start at the beginning," Mytha says, "so that you can truly understand."

His scowl deepens. "Oh, I understand that you're a psychopath; no need to explain that."

The shopkeeper laughs, sounding genuinely mirthful. "Well, we'll see then, won't we?"

This time Cal doesn't respond, but he knows that nothing the woman says will make what she and her family did okay. And at some time or another, she would pay, even if it was by someone else's hand.

Mytha is quiet a few more moments, as if waiting to give Cal a final chance to argue, then she straightens up and claps her hands together once, the following slapping noise echoing through the room.

"Our story begins on a dark and stormy night." She pauses and then says, "Just kidding, of course!" before laughing, far more amused by her poor attempt at a joke than anyone has the right to be.

Cal certainly isn't amused. In fact, he is quite livid at her inability to take this seriously.

Mytha quiets down and finally, her face grows serious. She leans forward in an almost conspiratorial manner and locks eyes with Cal. "My family," she says, "comes from a long line of witches." She holds up her hand when Cal makes a face. "Now, don't say anything; I know what you're thinking: witches don't exist. Am I right?"

He nods grudgingly at her.

"And that's mostly true now. The Great Calamity fed off the magic, and a witch's magic is more than just a tool; it's her life force."

Cal doesn't see what this has to do with causing the Great Calamity. It sounds more like she's trying to convince him that he should pity her because it destroyed her kind, that she is just a victim like him. But that isn't true, and he won't be convinced.

Mytha rubs her deformed hand, like maybe it aches. "There was a time, not too long ago, when there were many witches, but we were good at blending in." She sighs. "That's not the point, of course. Let's see..."

She stops and stares off toward the star, like she's completely lost her train of thought. Or maybe she never knew what she was saying.

Cal grinds his teeth together when she still remains quiet. "The Great Calamity," he says. "Why did you want that to happen?"

Her eyes snap back to him. "Oh! No. None of us wanted that. However, we learned that something terrible was coming, something that would bring an ultimate end to our world."

Cal gives a single nod. "The Great Calamity. Yeah. I got that."

"No."

He stares at her, puzzled. "Then what?"

She looks away from him again. "Something worse. Something that would spread to the far corners of the world and destroy everything, all life. The Great Calamity will look like a fairy-tale compared to it."

Cal stares at her in horror. He can't imagine something worse than the thing that had taken his parents and made him kill his sister. He swallows hard.

Mytha continues. "There was only one thing my family and I could think of to stop this tragedy before it happened. We knew it would be costly but...the alternative was far worse."

She locks eyes with Cal again, but this time her gaze is piercing and he sees a decade's worth of pain hidden beneath the surface.

"The star goddess," he breathes. "You thought the mythical star goddess would be able to stop this...whatever from happening?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I think."

"So you summoned her, and she fixed the problem and we only had the Great Calamity, instead of some other monstrous thing."

Mytha winces. "Not...exactly."

Oh. Great. That certainly doesn't sound good.

"What?" Cal asks, his fingers digging into his thighs as he tries to keep calm.

"This tragedy has yet to be stopped because I have no idea where the star goddess is."

Cal's mouth parts in shock and all he can manage to do is stare at her. Was she being serious? After all the trouble she caused, she hadn't even managed to solve anything?

Mytha points at the star on the shelf. "Right now, I'm gathering fallen stars in the hopes that they will be able to lead me to the goddess." She reaches forward and grabs Cal's hand. "Will you help me in my quest, child? Help me find the star goddess and save this world?"