I sit up, take a sip of the cold coffee just to prove a point, then make a face. "Okay, it's terrible."
"I told you."
"You're still wrong on principle."
He leans in and kisses me, tasting of shadows and that particular bitter scent that means he's been practicing with the new hybrid abilities. When we pull apart, I can see the silverveins in his skin pulsing brighter. They always do when we touch now.
"Report came in," he says. "Another success."
I take the crystal tablet he offers. The Crimson Regent's court formally thanks us for clearing the parasite infestation from their borders. Seventeen breaches sealed, countless parasites destroyed. The realm boundaries are stable for the first time in decades.
"That's nine this month," I note.
"Ten. You're not counting the micro-realm."
"That barely counts. They fled the moment they sensed us."
"Our reputation precedes us."
"The most feared couple in eighteen dimensions?"
"Nineteen now. The Gossamer Realm officially added us to their threat registry."
"We've never even been to the Gossamer Realm."
"Exactly. They're pre-emptively terrified. They heard what we did to the parasite swarm in the Crystal Reaches."
I laugh and pull him back down beside me. We lie there in comfortable silence, his shadows playing with my hair while I trace the silver veins on his arm. They form patterns now, words in languages I don't know but somehow understand. Love. Mine. Forever. The vocabulary of our bond written on his skin.
A thread of void extends from my hand without conscious thought, pulling a book from across the room into my grasp. It's become so natural I barely notice doing it anymore.
Another messenger arrives. We get three or four a week now. Requests for help, boundaries to check, infestations to clear. This one is different though. The construct is silver rather than gold, and it speaks in a familiar voice.
"Sister."
I sit up so fast I nearly fall off the bed. "Melara?"
"Not... exactly. An echo. A fragment left behind when you freed us. We wanted... I wanted to thank you. Properly."
My throat closes. Nezavek's hand finds mine, grounding me.
"You saved us all," the echo continues. "Gave us peace. Gave us freedom. Some of us left pieces of ourselves in your mark. Small gifts. Use them well."
"Melara."
"I'm already gone, Yorika. This is just a goodbye I didn't get to say. Be happy. Be terrifying. Be everything I knew you could be."
The construct dissolves into silver light that sinks into my palm, making the mark glow briefly.
I'm crying. I don't realize it until Nezavek wipes the tears away with a tendril that's impossibly gentle.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yeah. Just... I needed that. Closure."
"She's proud of you."
"I know." I look at him. "I'm proud of us."
