The morning slipped in quiet and golden, sunlight filtering through Arbor's enormous curtains like it had been waiting for me. Something had shifted between us since that candlelit dance, not spoken, not named, but alive and undeniable. We didn't mention it. We just let it sink into our bones. Malvor handed me my mocha. Half coffee, half chocolate, cream just right, before flopping onto the couch with his usual dramatic flair. I curled into his side, still tangled in my pajamas, hair an untamable mess.
"This," I murmured, taking a sip, "is the best part of the day."
He hummed, brushing his thumb lazily over my arm. "My favorite too. You, me, coffee. No gods, no horse pranks, no parties. Just us."
I smiled into my cup. "You sound like a retired villain."
"Only semi-retired," he winked. "I'm still wildly attractive and capable of chaos." I gave him a look.
"And very humble," he added, solemn as a liar caught mid-theater. I snorted, shaking my head.
For a few quiet minutes, we sat like that, warm, pressed together, the world hushed around us. Then Malvor suddenly straightened, energy sparking through him. "Get dressed, flame-haired goddess of sarcasm. I'm taking you on a tour."
I blinked at him. "A tour?"
"Of my realm. Not the Carnival. Not the chaos. The rest. The parts no one ever sees."
I tilted my head. "You've never shown anyone?"
"Never," he said, then swept his hand toward me like he was summoning an audience. "Exclusive behind-the-scenes experience. Hosted by yours truly, Malvor the Magnificent, Lord of Snacks."
"Stop."
"Too late. Arbor, outfit me!"
A flash of light, and he stood there suddenly dressed in black slacks, impossibly stylish boots, and a deep blue tunic embroidered with silver constellations that shimmered as he moved.
I blinked. "That's… hot."
"I know," he said smugly. "Now hurry, Whimsical Wondercake. Time to go."
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't fight my smile. The world shifted with a snap of his fingers. We reappeared at the edge of a cliff, and my breath caught. The sky swirled with purples, blues, and molten gold, soft as brushstrokes still wet. Below, floating islands drifted like daydreams. Some woven from shimmering clouds, others faceted crystal scattering light into rainbows. And among them floated bubbles. Hundreds, maybe thousands. Small ones, big ones, and inside each swam glittering fish that shimmered turquoise, magenta, gold. I stared, wide-eyed.
"Welcome," Malvor announced, gesturing with ridiculous flourish, "to the Edge of Chaos."
"It's…" My words faltered. "…beautiful."
"Isn't it?" His voice softened. "No one ever asks about this part. They only want the mischief. The laughter."
A bubble drifted near. A fish inside blinked at me. I blinked back.
"What are they?" I whispered.
"Dream fish," he said, slipping behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "They live in unspoken wishes. They only exist if someone wants them to."
"That sounds like something you just made up."
"Would it matter?"
I smiled faintly. "…No. It's poetic. And weird. Like you."
He kissed the top of my head. "I forgot how good it feels to share the weird."
Another bubble floated past, a phoenix-shaped fish inside winked. "Will you walk with me," he murmured against my ear, "through the most private corners of my soul?"
I tilted my head. "This is your soul?"
"Yes. Chaotic. Beautiful. Possibly filled with fish."
I brushed my fingertips against a bubble. It wobbled but didn't pop. "They don't burst?"
"Of course not. They're emotionally stable." I shot him a look.
"Fine," he sighed, grinning. "They're magic." I arched a brow, waiting.
He caved instantly. "Real story? These are all the ones flushed down toilets. Every goldfish, every betta. When mortals thought they died, they came here. Reincarnated. Fabulous real estate, bubble-chic."
I stopped mid-step. "…What."
"Yep. Afterlife for betrayed toilet fish." He gestured proudly at the drifting bubbles. "Now they're enlightened."
I narrowed my eyes. "You actually believe that."
"I do. Somewhere in the multiverse, it's true. Which means it's true here."
I laughed, shaking my head. "So we're surrounded by the ghosts of betrayed bathroom pets."
"Exactly. And they get revenge. Swim into dreams. Guilt trip closeups. Very cinematic."
I laughed so hard I nearly doubled over. He twirled me under a cluster of golden bubbles. "I brought you here to show you my soul, not to impress you with accuracy."
"I'm impressed," I admitted, still breathless. "With how committed you are to nonsense."
He stopped walking, brushing a curl from my face, his smile soft now. "No nonsense. Just you. Me. The edge of myself."
I felt it, through him, through the bond. Mischief, yes. But warmth. Truth. Something dangerously close to love.
When he whispered, "Come, my fish-whispering flamelet. There's more to see," my heart fluttered like the bubbles themselves.
Malvor led me deeper into the floating town, his steps more like a dance than a walk, tugging me past a parade of nonsense that somehow existed without collapsing in on itself. A fae in a top hat was teaching a piano to play Chopsticks. The piano floated a few feet in the air and kept sulking off-key. An anthropomorphic banana argued with a cloud about whether pudding could be made in space.
"Welcome to my chaos," Malvor announced with a wink, sweeping his arm as if unveiling art. A floating teapot landed neatly at my elbow with a soft clink.
I laughed despite myself, amusement bubbling up from somewhere I hadn't touched in years. "I'll never understand how you manage to create this… wonderland of nonsense, but I'm here for it."
He flashed me that maddening grin. "Nonsense? No, no, no, you're just not seeing the layers. This place is a divine cocktail of everything you didn't know you needed."
"And the main ingredient?" I asked dryly.
"Pure, unfiltered chaos. And a dash of questionable choices."
We ducked as a streetlamp wearing boxing gloves swung at a passing cloud, shouting about honor. I stared. Malvor just grinned wider.
"Let's get you something to eat," he said, snapping his fingers. A glowing booth shimmered into existence.
I eyed it warily. "If this food tries to form an emotional bond with me, I'm leaving."
"Relax," he purred, clearly entertained. "It's a food booth, not a dating service."
A menu appeared, written in glowing script I couldn't read. Malvor studied it with a delighted hum.
"How about the Divine Chaos Platter?"
My eyebrow arched. "And what, exactly, is on that?"
"Reality-bending pizza. A cosmic dumpling you can only eat during a solar eclipse. And a bowl of ice cream… but only if you respect its personal space."
I stared. Then laughed, sharp and unexpected. "You're serious."
"Absolutely." He snapped his fingers and the platter appeared, steaming and sparkling.
I picked up the slice of pizza first. It shimmered oddly in my hand, bending like it was allergic to gravity. "…How do you even eat this?"
"Don't think," Malvor said smugly. "Just bite."
So I did. My eyes widened. Every chew shifted the flavor. Comforting one moment, impossibly spicy the next, then sweet, then savory again. I blinked rapidly, trying to keep up.
"Told you," Malvor said, satisfied. "You have to let it take you on the ride."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Fine. That was… unexpectedly delightful. What's next?"
He handed me the suspicious "ice cream." It sparkled like a galaxy in a bowl. I took a spoonful, and nearly choked on a laugh. It tasted like starburst cotton candy and lightning, fizzing with energy that raced through my veins.
"That's… new," I managed.
"Magic ice cream," Malvor said, smug. "Perfect snack. Bit of chaos. Never boring."
I gave him a sidelong glance. "You've never eaten a normal meal in your life, have you?"
"Normal is dull," he said with mock gravity. "Chaos makes the best memories, Annie."
I licked stray glitter off my lips, smirking. "You're insane."
"And yet here you are, eating my chaos food and loving it."
"Am I?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation, leaning forward like we were conspiring. "And the real fun is just beginning."
I looked around at the floating town, the impossible buildings, the ridiculous creatures, the swirl of color and madness, and realized he was right. This place was absurd. Magical. Alive. Somehow, it was pulling me in.
"So," Malvor asked, eyes gleaming, "shall we go make some trouble?"
I grinned. "Lead the way, you divine disaster."
And together, we disappeared into the madness of Misfit's Landing, ready to make more chaos than the universe deserved.