23. Meera

"Well, that's that then, I guess."

I can see the mansion on the horizon, and know that we'll be reaching it any moment. The sun is disappearing, leaving pink, violet, and crimson hues in the sky, the clouds black and maroon wisps.

If you had told me this was a hellscape, I would have called you a liar. As unnatural, horrifying, and desolate as Ikoth normally looks, on moments like these, if only briefly, I can see its beauty.

Still, the air is crisp and dry, and I am parched and exhausted.

"In a little bit, when the sun sets, the stars will dot the horizon in every conceivable hue," Kavian says, looking over my shoulder through the open window.

The carriage rocks shakily, the zarryns trampling over fallen branches and debris from the storm.

"You could probably see it back home too, if you looked up. It's just that the dark red skies bring out the sunlight a little better."

His head looking over my shoulder, I rest my head against his.

"You planned this, didn't you?" I ask him, smirking slightly.

He chuckles.

"Not at all. We had to move fast."

"Uh-huh," I say sarcastically.

The moment feels perfect as I nuzzle into him. But the mansion is mere seconds away, and soon we'll be stepping out of the carriage, away from the flash of beauty, and from the time we shared together.

"Well, okay," he says. "The celestial event might have had something to do with it."

I laugh meekly.

It feels like coming home as we pull up and come to a stop, the mansion's front door entering my view.

But I know that this isn"t my home. My home was wiped away, enveloped in genocide and a fleeting squabble between my kind and the xaphans.

I inhale sharply.

"Something wrong," Kavian asks, opening the door to the carriage.

I step outside onto the harsh and unruly gravel.

"Not at all," I lie, smiling. "I'm just happy to be back."

The truth is, as I push open the door to the large foyer, that I want to feel at home here. But I'm still terrified that none of it is real—that all of it will be snatched away in an instant, just like everything I've ever known.

So do I keep running? When do I return to holding on for dear life, against chaotic elements indifferent to my existence?

I'm free, I think, a smile crossing my lips. There's nothing more they can do to me now.

"You look incredibly tired."

I turn around to face Kavian, his comment startling me out of my reverie. He wears a look of deep concern.

"You should really get some rest."

I shake my head.

"I'm fine," I counter, suppressing a yawn, my muscles weary.

But Kavian pushes me, nudging me toward the staircase.

As much as I hate to admit it, sleep does seem like an enticing prospect right now.

"I'll be here when you wake up," Kavian promises. "Just please. Get some rest."

"You exerted yourself a lot more than I did," I argue. "Shouldn't you be the one getting some rest?"

He contemplates for a moment, looking up at the chandelier, which sways slightly.

"I guess Gorran is fucked, at least for now," he says. "I'm sure he'll regroup eventually, but…"

Kavian turns his back to me, before spinning back around.

"I'll get some rest later," he says. "Maybe you've earned your rest, but I still can't be caught off-guard."

I trudge up the staircase away from him, looking down as he leaves my sight, and I hear the distant unfurling of parchment.

Every step brings me closer to an unfathomable destiny, the staircase much longer than I remember.

So Gorran's really not that big of a threat anymore.

I know Kavian is playing up the danger because he likes to stay twelve steps ahead of everything. I actually think I admire his work ethic.

But there's a relief to his voice that hasn't been there in a long time, probably not for the entire time I've known him. Whereas before, everything had an undeclared urgency, as though Gorran was at the gates and could breach through at any minute, now I think he's finally finding peace.

"And that means I don't have to be here anymore," I whisper.

I reach up, touching one of the suits of armor as I leave the staircase. I'm surprised to find a few droplets of moisture on one spaulder, and the slightest hint of dust on the other.

It pains me to say it. But I was really only here for this one mission against Gorran.

He's shown me his other operations—his future plans. And every step of the way, he's made it clear that I'm not essential to them.

They're on other continents, in distant cities with names I've never heard and can barely pronounce. They're far from New Solas.

But he made it clear that this mission was crucial, I think. This mission changed the tide.

I step into the wooden office, looking at the stacked desk full of weathered parchment.

If I stepped out the door now, would he even stop me? Wouldn't I be perfectly fine to leave now?

I crack a smile.

My freedom, away from this place, away from Kavian, and away from everything I've ever known, is both tempting and menacing. It's a burdensome question mark, left dangling but invisible.

"I'd probably be trampled," I say aloud.

For hours, I consider the door that's opened to me, knowing that I'm nothing to Gorran and that the only few who could care about my presence are dead.

The door is just down the staircase, about three hundred steps away.

I lie awake in bed, despite being almost completely consumed by my exhaustion.

I desperately want to sleep. I should be at peace.

But as Kavian presses into the bed next to me and his arms envelop me, my doubts are given physical form.

Ink is still on his fingers, rubbed off from his maps and scrolls.

He drifts off to sleep quickly, his snores filling the room.

And I find myself smiling again. Only, I realize, this smile feels authentic.

I lean into his embrace.

How could I leave this behind?

His arms are delicate, his touch tender.

Despite being a giant of a creature, who could engulf Aerasak in shadow if he wanted, he's chosen me.

I'd probably be trampled, I think again to myself.

If I left this mansion, where would I possibly go? What would I possibly find that could be better than this?

Probably nothing.

I shift in bed, looking into Kavian's closed eyes, his warm breath a comfort in this chilly room.

You could protect me, couldn't you?

If everything went to shit, and my whole world collapsed again? You would fight for me. Wouldn't you?

My home, or the home I once knew, is in ruins and shambles.

And I can't ever go back to that.

But even though I don't want to admit it, there's part of this place that feels like home, though not like a home I've ever known before.

It's in the wings and hidden rooms of this mansion I've never explored—that Kavian hasn't filled with furniture.

It's in the inhospitable red sky lurking just outside the threshold, a desert beyond these walls both exhilarating and foreboding.

But mostly, it's in him.

The thought of waking up without him terrifies me. And I suddenly realize that the weight in my shoes wasn't the strange world beyond these doors—it was the emptiness I'd feel from being apart from him.

When did he become so important to me?

I glimpse away from his dreaming eyes, toward the sky just outside the window.

Dots of red, green, and turquoise fill the night, with purple mists and white dotting lines.

Yellow comets pass over the red ambiance, shooting down toward unknown destinations.

And the shadow of a moon reflects a slight aura of blue into the crimson night.

Is that Neomia, or is that Edieae, I ponder.

I suddenly wish Kavian was awake to see this with me.

"Hey, Kavian," I whisper quietly.

His snores overpower my voice.

"Kavian!"

A slight hitch in his snoring, and he goes silent.

"What is it?" he asks groggily.

"The sky—didn't you want to watch it with me? It's really beautiful."

He chuckles.

"Don't worry. It'll still be here tomorrow," he says. "Maybe we'll watch it then."

Before I can respond, his snoring has filled the room even louder.

I suppress the urge to laugh.

If I leave now, I'm going to miss lying out under the stars with him. How could I do that?

I shake him, and he's unresponsive, still just as asleep as ever.

I close my eyes, letting his snores lull me into sleep.

Briefly, I wonder what life would have been like without him, imagining that I'd been purchased by anybody else on that auction block.

Rather than filling my day with schemes, wandering freely over the grounds and among the halls of a mansion, I'd be confined to a small quarters at the top of a house, kept largely out of sight. Every day would be a repetitive grind, cleaning the latrines and the kitchens before my owners woke up.

I don't know if I could survive that, I think.

And then I think of all the people I could still help if I stayed by Kavian's side.

Because the fact is that my work isn't done, as much as I want it to be. There are still people suffering under careless owners, who neglect and abuse them.

And neither is he, I think.

Though I know how powerful Gorran is, I also know there are other slave owners, even beyond Gorran, who are probably even more ruthless. And I can't imagine that Kavian's mission ends with Gorran.

Although somewhere, he's still got a business to run once Gorran has faded away completely and been left without a shred of power.

That would be nice, too.

I could help him.

I curl up into him, feeling his warmth against me.

The truth is that I have no idea what's in store for me.

But I know that a world without Kavian is as bleak and inhospitable as Ikoth's deepest deserts.