I’m not built for this. To be someone’s bond.
I’m not Julien, elegant and patient.
I’m not Ezekial, calm even when the world’s on fire.
And I’m sure as hell not Sai—joking, charming, always knowing what she needs, what to say.
I’m just... a creature built from ruin.
She said she needed me, and I behaved like an animal. A monster.
I let the darkness swirl around me, inky slivers curling around my form as if in comfort.
But it’s not the dark I crave.
It’s her. It will always be her.
Her touch. Her voice. Her warmth. Her whisper in the quiet:“You have me.”
I had her. And I left. Like the coward I am.
The floor splits beneath me, spidering out in a jagged ring of black vines as the room starts to shift into the Dark Realm—
I feel Ezekial before he steps out of the shadows, halting to change, because I can feelhim now more than I ever have.
He doesn’t speak, just stands behind me as his light battles my dark, I see the shadows dancing in combat before his light overrules.
I hear his footsteps before he murmurs, “She passed out.”
That gets me. I turn sharply.
He’s watching me carefully, eyes warily studying me like I’m some wounded beast that might lash out.
“She’s fine,” he adds. “Crashing from the rune shift, but she asked us to find you before she went under.”
His words hit like a reopened wound, and then he shows me. Not the whole moment, but enough. Her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, her voice barely a breath.“Please find him.”
I slump down hard on the ground, the image of her burning behind my eyes. “I wanted to stay. But I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It was too much, Ezekial. Too many emotions. Things I haven’t felt in—” I cut myself off, teeth clenched.
“I know, brother,” he says simply, crouching beside me. “I’ve been there, you know I have.”
Then I realise it’s not pity in his tone, because I can feel his emotions now. No, not pity, it’s grief. Remembrance. Anchored to something heavy.
“After Sheridan…” He pauses. “The loss of her, the need for revenge, the rage. I’d never felt rage like it, Kane.” He shakes his head. “I thought I would explode, but I remember the shadows embracing me, and I remember how they all moulded into him.” He nods over his shoulder, and I glance at the faint silhouette of an animal lingering behind him.
“And the other one,” Ezekial’s voice quietens. “I never remembered when or how I created him, I assumed he’d already been there because I could never quite remember. Until Prospero’s memory.”
I follow his gaze to the second shadowy creature pacing nearby, now more formed than the first.
“The second creature was for you, Kane.” My brows furrow. “I realise now when I made him, what emotions caused it. It formed after I thought I’d lost you in The Divide. The grief I felt then, the anguish…” He exhales slowly, swallowing. “And maybe…” His hand drifts to the fully-formed creatures as they settle beside him, his fingers brushing over their shadowy heads. “Maybe I made him for Jasmine too. Even then, when I didn’t know what she was to us, something in me did.”
His two shadowed-forged, Dobermann-shaped creatures sit loyally at his side. Small metallic horns curve from their skulls as he scratches gently between them. Their fur glints with a faint sheen, like oil in moonlight, with leathery wings folded against their backs. Their eyes are pure silver, the only colour they carry, the rest is pure shadow.
Loyal, protective companions. Born from the dark. Created from emotions felt so intensely they become beings.
“And I know you’ve felt emotions like this before, brother,” Ezekial says, ignoring my dismissive gaze. “But you try hard not to remember, your mind is full of walls, blocking out memories connected to those feelings.” His gaze shifts then, dropping to a sliver of shadow gliding towards us. “But you made him for me. When Sherida and I were suffering in The Divide. When you were forced to witness our torture, you couldn’t intervene, you couldn’t protect us, so you made him.”
The shadow snake slithers up Ezekial’s side, resting along his shoulders, small, empty eyes seeking out mine
