Nezavek
Three weeks later, I wake to the sound of books hitting the floor.
Not literally, books can't die, but the way Yorika is reorganizing my study sounds destructive. Thuds. Scrapes. The occasional curse when she encounters one of my floating volumes that refuses to be shelved.
"What are you doing to my sanctuary?" I ask from the doorway.
She doesn't even look up from where she's kneeling, sorting texts into piles that make no sense to me. "Improving it."
"It was perfect."
"It was chaos. You had books on dimensional theory mixed with poetry from dead worlds mixed with what appears to be a cooking manual for beings that eat light."
"That's a very valuable manual."
"You don't eat light."
"I might want to learn."
She looks up at me then, hair falling across her face. My shadow tendrils manifest and gently pull it back, beginning to braid. She doesn't even pause anymore when they touch her, just continues sorting while my shadows arrange her hair.
"Tea?" I offer.
"Please."
I move to the small kitchen area we've added to the study, her innovation, since humans apparently need constant hydration.
The silver veins in my hands pulse with warmth as I heat the water.
A week ago, I discovered I could actually make things hot now, not just cold.
The tea doesn't turn to ice the moment I touch it.
Progress.
"Why do humans need to eat so often?" I ask, watching her work. "You just ate yesterday."
"That was dinner. It's now morning. Different meal."
"But you're not damaged. Why do you need to repair yourself with food?"
"It's not repair, it's fuel." She accepts the tea from me, and I've learned exactly how she likes it.
Strong enough to wake the dead, sweet enough to make her smile.
The temperature is perfect. It's always perfect now.
The one human thing I've mastered completely.
"Like you absorbing void energy, but more often and with taste. "
"Seems inefficient."
"Says the being who used to dissolve every few hours."
"That was a medical condition."
She laughs, and the sound changes the entire atmosphere of the study. "Come help me. Your organizational system makes no sense."
"It makes perfect sense. Everything is arranged by the emotional resonance of acquisition."
"That's insane."
"That's sophisticated."
We work together for the next hour, which mostly consists of her making logical categories while I protest and my tendrils sneak books back to their original positions when she's not looking.
She reaches for a text on a high shelf, and instead of standing, a thread of void flows from her marked hand, wrapping around the spine and tugging it gently into her grasp.
"You're getting better at that," I observe.
"It's becoming natural." She looks at the thin line of darkness connecting her to the book before releasing it. "Easier than getting up."
She catches my tendrils eventually, grabbing one and giving it a mock-stern look.
"Stop that."
"They're not mine," I lie. "Wild shadow tendrils. Very common in void realms."
"Nezavek."
"Can't control them. Tragic, really."
She tugs on the tendril, pulling me closer. "Liar."
"Prove it."
Instead of answering, she kisses me. The tendril immediately wraps around her waist, pulling her against me. The other shadows abandon their book-stealing mission to join in, running down her arms, curling around her thighs.
"Thought you couldn't control them," she murmurs against my lips.
"I've been miraculously cured."
A knock interrupts us, the specific grinding rhythm that means Mikaere. We separate, though one tendril remains in her hair because I can't quite help myself.
"Enter," I call.
Mikaere fills the doorway, all four arms crossed in what I've learned is his version of amusement.
The realm itself has been healing. Where our combined energies, void and light, have settled into the architecture, everything grows stronger. Including Mikaere, whose severed shoulder has regenerated a new stone arm, silver veins running through it like the ones that now trace Nezavek's form.
"The eastern border needs inspection," he announces. "There have been fluctuations."
"Dangerous?" Yorika asks.
"Unknown. But worth investigating. The realm boundaries are... thinning in places." He pauses. "Also, P?ivi wishes to inform you that the new organizational system in the library is, and I quote, 'adequate.'"
Yorika grins. "From her, that's basically a declaration of love."
"She also called you 'tolerably intelligent' yesterday," Mikaere notes. "She's growing fond of you."
We walk through the realm together to check the border. The paths are the same stone and shadow they've always been, though I notice Yorika looking at corners and crevices with an odd expression.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing. Just... for a moment I thought I saw something green."
"Green?"
"Probably just the light."
There's no light that could make anything green here, but I don't argue. Since the gallery, since she poured that mark into me to save my life, strange things happen. Small impossibilities. The other day, I swear I heard birds, though we have no birds.
At the border, the issue becomes clear. The boundary between our realm and the void isn't solid anymore. It ripples, and through the translucent sections, we can see... things. Moving. Feeding.
"Parasites," Mikaere says grimly. "Dimensional parasites. They're eating at the boundaries."
"Since when?" Yorika asks, already shifting into tactical mode.
"The fluctuations started three days ago. But this..." He gestures to the visible creatures. "This is new."
They're wrong to look at. Not quite there, not quite not there. They exist in the spaces between existence, feeding on the energy that separates one reality from another.
"They're drawn to something," I observe. Through the boundary, more gather, pressing against the thinning barrier.
"You," P?ivi's voice comes from pages that suddenly swirl around us. "Both of you. Your bond, void and light intertwined, it's like a beacon to them. They feed on contradiction, on things that shouldn't exist together but do."
"So we're bait," Yorika says flatly.
"The most appetizing bait in eighteen dimensions," P?ivi confirms.
"Wonderful."
After reinforcing the boundary, temporarily, we return to find P?ivi in my study, hovering over Yorika's reorganization work.
"This system," she says without preamble, "is infinitely superior to the emotional resonance nonsense."
"Thank you?" Yorika says.
"I'm implementing it in the library. With modifications. Your alphabetization is pedestrian, but the categorical framework has merit." She disperses partially then reforms. "I've also been researching your mark. It's evolving."
"Evolving how?"
"Growing stronger. The souls' gift wasn't static. It's adaptive. Learning from you, from him, from the bond." She manifests a book that writes itself as she speaks. "In a few months, perhaps a year, you'll be able to channel significant void energy. Enough to fight these parasites directly."
"They're going to be a problem," Yorika states.
"More than that. If they breach through, they'll unravel the realm from the inside out. You'll need to hunt them."
"Hunt things that barely exist?"
"Welcome to your new purpose."
The words hang heavy for a moment before P?ivi seems to realize she's shown actual concern. She disperses immediately, leaving only "I'll have more data tomorrow" hanging in the air.
That evening, I find Yorika in the study again, but she's not reading. She's staring at nothing, that thousand-yard look soldiers get.
"Where are you?" I ask softly.
She blinks, focuses on me. "Thinking about Melara."
I wait. Sometimes she needs to talk about her sister. Sometimes she needs silence.
"She would have loved this," Yorika says finally. "A realm that breaks physics. Shadow beings. Dimensional parasites that exist between existence. She always believed reality was just a rough draft, too restrictive for what she wanted to create."
"You saved her," I remind her gently.
"I freed her. There's a difference." She turns to look at me fully. "For three years, hunting you was my purpose. Then saving her was my purpose. Then stopping the Collector. Now..."
"Now?"
"Now I need to find a new purpose." She stands, walks over to where I'm sitting. "Maybe it's this. Protecting reality itself from things that would unravel it. Not for vengeance but because we're the only ones who can."
"With me?"
"With you." She settles into my lap. "My terrible shadow husband who makes perfect tea but can't cook."
"I haven't tried to cook."
"Good. Don't."
"I could learn."
"Please don't. Your tea is perfection. Leave it at that."
I pull her closer, and we sit in comfortable silence. We’ve settled into something new. Not peace exactly, but acceptance. The rage that drove her for three years has transformed into something else. Protection, maybe.
Purpose without vengeance.
"We're becoming something, aren't we?" she says against my chest. "Known. Feared."
"Does that bother you?"
"No. If others fear us, they won't try what the Collector did. They won't create more monsters." She sits up, meets my eyes. "We could be the threat that keeps other threats in line."
"The monster that hunts monsters."
"And the human who loves him."
"Is that what you are? A human who loves a monster?"
She touches my face, traces the silver veins visible beneath my skin. "You're not a monster. You're mine."
"Yours," I agree.
That night, I wake to find her standing on the balcony, looking out at the impossible stars. I join her, wrapping my arms around her from behind.
"Can't sleep?"
"Just thinking." She leans back against me. "The parasites. How many realms are they feeding on? How long before the boundaries collapse completely?"
"You want to hunt."
"I want to protect. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
She turns in my arms. "Yes. Hunting was about me, my pain, my revenge. Protecting is about everyone else. The realms that can't defend themselves against things that exist between existence."
"We could do that. Travel the boundaries. Kill parasites that shouldn't exist."
"We?"
"Obviously. You think I'd let you have all the fun?"
She smiles, and it's sharp and beautiful. "The Void Walker and his bride, terrifying the things that terrify reality."
"We should get business cards."
"You don't even know what those are."
"Small rectangles that announce your presence. Mikaere explained them."
"When did you, never mind. Yes. We should definitely get business cards."
We're interrupted by a messenger construct, a bird made of starlight that speaks in harmonics.
"Lords of the Void Realm," it begins formally.
"We're not lords," Yorika points out.
It continues without pause. "Reports of severe boundary degradation in the Seventh Spiral. Dimensional parasites have consumed three sub-realms. The local powers request your intervention."
I look at Yorika. She's already shifting into combat mode, straightening, assessing, planning.
"How long until complete collapse?" she asks.
"At current rate, seventeen hours."
Her resolve crystallizes.
"Tell them we're coming," she says.
The construct dissolves.
"Want to go kill things that shouldn't exist?" I ask.
"With you? Always."
We gear up efficiently. My shadow armor forms, silver veins pulsing through it. Her tactical gear appears, enhanced with void-touched weapons we've collected. We move in sync, understanding each other's preparations without words.
"Ready?" I ask.
"To show dimensional parasites why our bond is poisonous to them? Absolutely."
We step through the portal together, hands linked, weapons ready. Behind us, our realm, our home, waits for our return. Ahead, reality itself needs defending.