XII

Styx slowly realized that he was lying on a cold surface in a dimly lit room. Something weighed down on his body, stirring faintly.

He remembered.

With a gasp he sat up. His heart was pounding wildly and he was breathing hard. Styx had been on a trip through his memories, all of his memories that he had been trying to wipe from his mind all those countless years. He knew... He finally knew what had happened in Akenash, and what his former self had done to him. The voice inside his head, giving him orders, controlling him like a puppet. How he found out about his cruel twin, the first Styx, his own creator. The Elf, his missions, the betrayal, his revenge. He remembered what he had learned about his very own origins, right before he destroyed the heart of the tree, when he had almost killed himself in the Amber lake. He remembered how he was born again, how he survived. How he created the Goblins. And how his own creator was killed.

What he had learned in the mind of Arkence was true, it was all true.

Styx was a Rakash, the first of them, and his own creator was dead... And somehow, the thought of that horrifying mess of images of guards, torches and dark places enshrouded in Amber dust didn't scare him anymore. He knew about Akenash, his creator, his former self, and he took it calmly.

He was the one and only Styx.

What had happened in the past didn't matter anymore.

With a strangely tranquil feeling, Styx looked at the figure that was lying on his body, and saw that it was Maera.

He cursed wildly as he suddenly remembered what had happened before those Inquisition fuckers made him drink Amber and totally knocked him out. Maera on the torture rack. How the hell had they both gotten into this cell, and why was she unconscious too? He quickly took her in his arms and gently patted her cheek to wake her up.

"Maera! You alright, little beauty?"

To his great relief, Maera blinked. She looked exhausted and tired, but when she saw him, an incredulous smile lit up her face.

"Styx! You are back, you are alive!", she whispered breathlessly into his hood when she threw her arms around him. "You are back..."

"Maera..."

If Styx had been able to cry, he would have cried now, for joy and relief. He held her as close as he possibly could, like he was never going to let her go again, deeply inhaling her scent, his hands feeling her warm delicate body under her dress. All his thoughts were wiped out of his mind, and the only thing left there was her name. Maera, Maera, Maera... He couldn't possibly put into words how overwhelmed with joy he was to have her back. Maera was trembling in his arms, and he could feel her warm tears on his neck. He smiled, for he knew they were not shed because of sadness.

They stayed like that for a short eternity, holding each other close, bathing in the bliss of their reunion. Then, Maera lifted her head to look at him, and Styx's heart skipped a beat. The dimly glowing lamp in the cell made her soft hazelbrown eyes shimmer golden, just like in the first sleepless night of theirs, back then in the tavern, when he had met her. When his dull life had been turned upside down. She was smiling again, that wonderful smile that made Styx feel light-headed and speechless, the one that had replaced his haunting nightmares over time, filling his life with something he had never even dreamed of.

"Maera, I...", he started suddenly, cupping her face in his hands. She looked back at him expectantly.

"Yes...?"

"I...", Styx tried again. He wanted to speak, but he couldn't, he just couldn't, it was too much. The words stuck in his throat, until he thought that the pressure was too much to bear, but then Maera gently laid a finger on his lips.

"It's fine", she whispered. She hugged him, her face next to his, and breathed in his ear: "So do I."

Styx let that sink in. Then he grinned. He turned his face to hers and they kissed.

Styx could have kept on kissing her forever, enjoying her soft, warm lips on his, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her sharp teeth against his tongue. It felt so wonderful that he forgot his surroundings completely. But then, just when he felt that certain tension in his loins growing, there was a loud bang outside their private little microcosm that cell had grown to, and people shouting orders.

Suddenly, they were back in the ruins of Akenash, and they were still prisoners of the Inquisition. Smiling at each other and snickering, they sighed, both a little frustrated about the realization of the trouble they were still in.

"Well... Dammit. Are you feeling alright?", Maera asked, stroking his cheek.

"I'm okay. What about you? They tortured you! I swear I'm gonna rip their slimy hands off and shove them up their..."

"I'm fine, really. In the beginning it was really tough, but I soon figured out a way to deal with it."

"But you were screaming when I found you!", Styx remarked.

"I was acting. I'm a Dragonelf, silly. Fireproof, remember?"

"Oh, shit... Yeah, that rings a bell. Damn, so that's why you told me to make off when I arrived?"

"Yes, kinda", Maera replied. "I was hoping I could get free myself, maybe after collecting my strength for a while. I was so worried about you, Styx. I knew the Bigot had his insane bullshit waiting for you, and I was so afraid he would kill you…" Her voice shook a little and tear ran down her cheek. Styx gently brushed it off with his thumb.

"So you knew I would come to save you, little troublemaker?", he teased with a lopsided grin. "That's a little bit presumptuous, expecting me to step right in the lion's den to save your juicy ass, don't you think?"

"And still, here you are, after you've almost managed to get screwed over, even if you knew it was a trap", Maera replied. There was a knowing glimmer in the depth of her gaze, and Styx shifted uncomfortably. She knew him too well.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I told you so often about Dragonelf anatomy, did you ever listen?", Maera chided grinning.

"Well, all I need to know about Dragonelf anatomy I found out by intense field studies, if you know what I mean...", Styx teased with a hand caressing her breasts. She laughed.

"Stop it, Rakash! What about you? Any injuries?"

"Nope, just bruises. Shit, this was one hell of a trip... After the Bigot made me drink the Amber, I don't really recall what happened next. I just know that I remember my past now, it's all back. All the nasty shit I had forgotten for so long. What did you do? Somehow you saved me, didn't you?", Styx asked.

"I also drank Amber to follow you", Maera admitted. Styx's eyes went wide.

"What? You could have died! This shit is unpredictable! Did the Bigot made you drink it?"

"No. When you had your blackout we were brought into this cell here. I found some Amber the torturer had left, and drank it to follow you", Maera answered.

"And, did it work?", he asked. She nodded.

"I guess that under the magical influence of the Amber I was able to enter your subconsciousness, your memories in Akenash. I met someone there, by the World Tree, a Goblin who claimed to be your creator or something."

"Yeah, that shithead again. Won't let go of me. Did you talk to him?"

"I did, but I didn't quite understand everything he told me. But he said that if you kept repressing your past, and give up, he would cause your bad memories to overwhelm you, and he would take over." Maera tilted her head.

"Did you… Did you accept what happened?", she asked carefully.

Styx narrowed his gaze. "My memories are back, and the thought of all the shit that happened in my past does not make me want to mash my head against the wall anymore, so yeah, I guess. It's definitely better than before." He was aware of Maera's questioning look. "It's all pretty fucked up and complicated. You sure you wanna hear it sometime?"

"Of course. If you want to talk about it, I'm there for you listen."

"You're not going to think I'm crazy or anything?", he asked quietly.

"Not crazier than I already know you are, my Rakash", she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. Styx blinked, then smiled. Maera continued.

"So I went to look for you, and found you with the help of some crazy old man..."

"Querberus! Poor old fuck", Styx interrupted.

"Exactly. When I found you, you looked like you had already given up, driven insane by that other guy. But I talked to you, and when I put my injured hand on your tattoo, it lit up and you woke. Do you remember what I said?", she asked.

"Nope, not a bit."

Maera nodded slowly.

"What did you say to wake me?", Styx wanted to know.

"Erm... Nothing important. Just told you to wake the fuck up."

"And then we both were back here, right?"

"Right." Maera changed the topic. "I think finding a way out of here might be a good idea."

"Fuck yeah! But I guess just running headless into these idiots won't help us. Dammit, I hate the thought, but we might need to challenge them directly. Can't avoid it. We need a plan. What do we got?"

Maera went to the back of the cell, where the box stood. She quickly slipped out of her bloody shirt and donned her Academy robes that lay beside it. Then she skimmed through the box.

"Some bloody knives, pincers and needles", she reported.

"Useless. I still have my dagger and my equipment, but we'll need more than maps and throwing knives to get out of here." Styx rummaged around in his beltpockets, until suddenly his fingers found the stone with the light-blue rune inscription. He had almost forgotten that Abbyss had given it back to him. "Oh, and this thing." He showed it to Maera.

When the Dragonelf saw the rune, her eyes went wide with excitement.

"A blazebane! Styx, that's it! That's our way out!", she shouted, taking the stone from him.

"A what?"

"I don't have time to explain, you'll see it. It's old magic. I have a bunch of tricks up my sleeve that you've never seen me using before, since it was too dangerous to do that in a Library full of dry paper. But since I've been hold up here, I've collected my strength and I think I can pull off a few useful things. But I have no idea how to get away..."

"We'll hop on an airship. The hardest part will be getting there without the Inquisition's men stopping us", Styx mused.

"Alright, then. You open the door, we get out and I... improvise. When we face any opposition, just run for the airship and make sure we have a clean path. I'll catch up with you outside and we leave this shitpit", Maera explained.

"You didn't even tell me what exactly you're gonna do! I don't want you to get in trouble with that many assholes at once, it's too dangerous!", Styx remarked worriedly.

"Trust me. I can do this. But I need you to protect me after we've left the building", Maera said. "Let's get out there and kick some human asses."

Styx grinned. "That's my girl."

He plucked out some lockpicks from his pocket and started fumbling around on the door's lock. Under his nimble fingers, seconds after the lock opened creaking. He got ready to push open the door. They prepared themselves for their escape. Just before Styx got out, he turned around to Maera once more.

"Dammit, I forgot..."

"What? Make it quick!"

Styx leaned over, his face next to hers.

"I owe you my life, Maera. Thank you, my beauty. Thank you."

Then he kissed her deeply, and he put so much passion and affection in it that when he let go of her and left the cell, Maera stood stunned for a few heartbeats, her breath stolen by the gravity she felt in his gesture. With a touched smile, she followed him.

Outside the cell, Styx hid behind a box and waved Maera to do the same. There was a guard standing in front of the door who didn't notice them slip out, but it was only a matter of time until he would. A quick look around the ruin of the embassy told Styx that there were way too many guards to sneak out unseen, the place was crawling with soldiers and there was nowhere to hide. The way to the main door wasn't too long, but there was a whole crowd of heavily armored guards and Inquisitors in their way, all enshrouded in the smoke of the torches and firepits. The Bigot was standing in a different corner of the room, bent over a table covered with parchments.

Styx cursed quietly. This didn't look good at all, in fact, it looked pretty damn impossible. He took a deep breath. He had to trust Maera, and he did. He turned to her, a finger put to his lips.

"Shhh. You ready?", he mouthed.

She nodded.

Styx rushed to the guard, dragged him into his cover and rammed his dagger in his chest. Then he spun around and lopped two throwing knifes into the necks of two more men. They went down noisily, and a bunch of guards ran towards them, pointing and shouting.

The first guard to challenge Styx got kicked in the knees and a dagger stabbed in his face, the second one he headbutted and twisted his neck around as the man went down. A third guard, a knight, forced Styx to parry some blows that had his arms ring with the pain from the impact. Styx made it to escape him with a roll and brought him down with a slash in his knee pits.

He cursed as he saw a flock of Inquisition disciples appear, their hands raised, ready to use their fucking magic.

"Maera, you okay?", Styx asked over his shoulder, getting ready to fight. When he saw what she was doing, he gaped unbelieving, the guards forgotten. The men approaching them stopped as well, horrified by the sight.

Maera was in flames.

She stood behind Styx, her arms slightly stretched out, her burning hands turned upwards as if she was holding two small comets. Her eyes glowed golden, and a hissing blaze of orange fire flared around her arms and shoulders, the air around her body flickering with heat. She was breathing hard with concentration, her fiercely burning eyes focusing the approaching enemies.

"Run", she whispered.

Styx ran.

Hell broke loose.

Styx headed straight for the exit, not turning back. Behind him, he heard Maera shout, and then a sudden rush of heat thundered over him, and the room was lit all in red. Sparks and flakes of ash were filling the air. He felt the heat stinging in his back and heard the soldiers scream in agony, some of them rushing by him like human torches, desperately trying to slap out the flames. Another explosion made the ruin shake and bricks and mortar rain down. The blazing flames licked the wood of the furniture and wagons, and soon the embassy became one chaotic inferno.

When another knight ran up to Styx, his longsword hit the Goblin's hip and left a bleeding cut. Luckily it wasn't deep, and Styx jumped up to the man, held him headlocked and twisted until he heard the neck break. Another one got a knife to the temple. Ignoring the pain, Styx kept running. He looked behind him for just a second and glimpsed Maera lopping a streak of fire into the chest of a torturer. The man went down screaming, just to be replaced by another one who had the stupid idea to get in her way. Maera fought like a short fire atronach, spreading flames wherever she put her feet, the air around her boiling with heat.

By now, the building had started to burn and the Inquisition's soldiers left it. Outside, panic was spreading as quickly as the flames. Styx stabbed and spun to battle his way through to one of the airships. He was less used to this than to stealthy fighting and hated open combat, but he was determined to make it. Bleeding from numerous cuts and his lungs hurting like hell from the sprint and fiery air, he got closer to the airship and found the way clear. Most soldiers had run to the embassy to see what caused this chaos.

He turned around and scanned the camp for Maera. She came running behind him. Most of her fire had gone out, only her hands still burned. Panting, she arrived next to him.

"You hurt?", he asked, taking her in his arms.

"Not really, just some scratches. And I'm exhausted. You look worse", she gasped.

"It's alright, we'll take care of that later. Shit, what a mess... Was that the runestone?"

"No, that was me. No time to explain. Later. The blazebane's right here", she answered, took out the stone and placed it on the ground.

"Fuck, we're getting company. Quick, hurry up!", Styx snapped when he noticed a horde of heavily armored knights and crossbow men charging towards them. They were way too many to fight them, and if the men should reach them before they could get on the airship, they would be doomed.

"Just a second", Maera said. She had closed her eyes, her lips moving slightly as she intonated a spell in a language unknown to Styx. She lifted up a hand and held it over the runestone.

The soldiers ran closer, swords drawn.

"Maera, we need to leave, come on!", Styx urged her, his dagger ready to defend them, but then she finished her intonation.

There was a light-blue flash, and the world fell silent for a second, consumed in white light. Styx held his hands before his eyes. Between his fingers he glimpsed the rune of the blazebane, now a crackling beam of energy in the open air, as it streaked towards the guards. They were dashed to the ground like pebbles in a mighty wave. Then the wave of light-blue energy hit the ruin, and the orange flames combined with the magical thunderbolts. The ruins of Akenash collapsed burning, dust and sparks intermingling with the fire as the leftovers of the walls crumbled down.

"Fuck me sideways, you are freaking me out!", Styx shouted to Maera, grinning widely. "Now that you've had your fun, can we leave? Please?"

Maera picked up the runestone and ran after him towards the nearby airship. A platform allowed them to step aboard the large deck, but before they had the opportunity to get inside, a figure emerged from the shadows quick as thought, hitting Maera against the head. She fell to the ground with a painful gasp.

"Maera!", Styx shouted. He went over to her and quickly checked her. She was stunned, groaning faintly and not too badly harmed, but unable to get up. Styx turned around to the man who had knocked her down, dagger drawn.

He was a tall, slender human clad in a black-and-purple robe that was now a bunch of torn rags. A mask might have covered the upper half of his face, but now it was gone. The lower half didn't look like anything human anymore. It had caught fire, and all what was left of his lips and jaw was a mess of burned flesh and dried blood. His eyes glittered with fury and madness.

"Oh shit, not you again", Styx complained.

The Bigot laughed insanely.

"Did you think your heretic magic would stop me? I cannot be killed, for I am the Grand Inquisitor, the one chosen to guide the realms of man back into the light, and rid it of the greenskin infestation!"

"You Inquisition fuckers seem to have an affinity for getting your faces burnt. No seriously, you remind me of somebody who was at least as nutty. You got a serious problem, buddy. Considered seeing a headshrinker, maybe?", Styx commented. He carefully edged further away from Maera while he talked to the Bigot.

"Hahahaha! Prepare to die the rat that you are! Die, and may your sinner's soul endure endless pain in the unholy..."

"Damn, stop with your bullshit, you're making my head hurt!", Styx interrupted him. He was worried not only about the still stunned Maera but also about the damn fires spreading all around the camp, getting awfully close to the wooden airship, and the soldiers that might have been left, hidden in the thick orange smoke. If he didn't get rid of that nutcase soon, they would be trapped.

"Die, Goblin!", the Bigot screamed. He raised his fist, and Styx felt an invisible cold hand grabbing him. He quickly rolled to the side to dodge the magical grip. Instinctively, he reached for a throwing knife and lobbed it at the Bigot. At the same time, some oil tank out in the yard exploded from the stray fire, and the wind blew a gush of flames over the airship. It made the knife miss its target. Styx held his breath as the heat thundered over him, making his eyes burn. The Bigot laughed, babbling some incoherent prayers. He didn't seem to feel the terrible heat, or maybe he had already gone so batshit that he didn't care about what happened to his body. His scorched face was the living proof, and his eyes glittered with frenzy. The man shot a dash of magical energy at Styx. It struck him on the hip, just where he already had a bad cut. Styx went to one knee, groaning with pain. Through the haze of smoke and flames, he glimpsed the man running towards him, his sword drawn, screaming like a madman. Styx yanked up his dagger to parry the blow. Without delay, the Bigot delivered a second blow. Styx made it, but his arm rang with pain as metal clashed against metal. He jumped up, kicked the Bigot in the knees and tried ramming his dagger in the man's back. The Inquisitor punched him in the stomach, which made Styx double over and took his breath for a second. A second that almost cost him his life, as the man reached for him with his magic. Styx quickly thrust his last throwing knife in the Bigot's shoulder. He screamed out in pain and seemed to grow even more furious. Styx parried blow after blow, with the much taller man leaving him no chance to make him trip or grab his neck, as he also used his fucking magic to keep the Goblin at a distance.

Styx started to feel his strength fade.

The Bigot drove him into a corner covered in deep shadows with ferocious blows of his broadsword, his burnt face looking like a demonic mask with the orange firelight dancing about. As Styx backed away, avoiding the rain of iron, his tattoo lit up as soon as the darkness enshrouded his body.

The shadows...

Something deeply buried inside Styx stirred.

Something deep inside him woke up, tasted the Amber still running through his veins.

Something remembered.

He was the Master of Shadows.

Styx disappeared.

He saw the Bigot hesitate, looking right through him. The burning madness in his eyes was replaced by confusion as he searched for his enemy. Invisible like a ghost, Styx moved behind the man to get out of his sword's range. The man heard his footsteps and spun around, only to see empty air behind him. He growled with anger. Styx quickly sneaked into another dark corner and became visible again. Feeling a strange, yet familiar power flow through him, he closed his eyes.

And opened them again. And then another one, his inner eye.

The world turned the color of copper and blood.

Using his Amber vision, Styx quickly gazed around the platform of the airship under the blimp. He saw some hooks that had been hidden before, now glowing brightly and nimbly climbed them up. The Bigot was angrily cursing and praying, looking for his enemy. Styx perched on a beam and doubled over, throwing up something like a slimy, greenish egg. It hatched immediately, and he looked into the blank face of a scruffy version of himself, scrawny and covered with golden glowing Amber marks. The clone scratched his armpit, not caring about the inferno that was about to consume the airship.

Styx slipped out of his head and into the mind of his ragged copy.

The clone made his way down to the Bigot, who was prowling around with his sword. He couldn't find his opponent, so he angrily strode over to Maera. She tried to crawl away from him, but he was too fast. With iron gauntlets, the Inquisitor grabbed her by the hair.

"Come here, coward! Or I'll smash your little whore's ugly green head!", he shouted. His shout turned into horrified screaming as something jumped into his face and grabbed his head, clutching fiercely, no matter how wildly he squirmed. The Bigot let go of Maera. He felt sharp claws rip at his burnt skin and surprisingly strong arms strangling his throat. Finally, he managed to tear off the creature from his face. It fell to the floor with a hiss and disintegrated smoking.

"Come at me, and face your death!", the Bigot bellowed in insane fury. "Vermin!"

Styx did as he asked.

The Goblin jumped down on him from high above, grabbed his head and dug his sharp fangs into the man's throat, then he yanked the man down by one shoulder and rammed the dagger in his stomach.

"My...", Styx growled, twisting the dagger. The Bigot groaned, his face and chest covered in blood.

"... Name...", Styx continued, twisting again. The Bigot screamed in agony.

"... Is STYX!" One last violent twist of the blade, and the Bigot died with a gargling cry.

Breathing heavily, Styx glared down at the corpse of the High Inquisitor.

"Burn in your own hell, vermin", he snarled, wiped off the blood from his mouth and plucked out his dagger. Then he went over to Maera.

"Little beauty! You okay?", he asked, helping her get up.

"My head feels like an anvil, but I think I can walk. Quick, let's get into the cockpit and start this thing", she answered. Styx nodded and together they crossed the platform to the blimp. The cockpit was right at the prow of the airship, and after some lever-pulling and adjusting they got the ship running. Propellers droning and the whale oil rushing through the copper pipes, the airship slowly rose from the burning ground. Styx put the map on the panel with all the levers and instruments and together with Maera they set the control vane towards the Thaumaturgan Academy. Then they tended their wounds and cuts as good as they could.

Far below them, the ruins of Akenash, even the overgrown stones and walls, were burning and smoldering in magical blue and orange flames that consumed everything. Thick smoke wrapped up the former Atrium, the rusty gates, the broken statues, the Inquisition's banners turning to ashes. The dried-up lake bed in the middle, where the World Tree had died centuries ago, was barely visible anymore, covered in ash and fire. The evening's twilight made the fires glow brightly and covered the valley in dancing shadows as the burning ruins sank deeper into the swampy ground. The embassy had crumbled to bits, and corpses of Inquisition's agents scattered the mud.

Thoughtfully, Styx glanced through the window down at the leftovers of the Atrium of Akenash as they were slowly getting covered in a shroud of ash, glowing orange in the light of the setting sun. Maera stepped beside him, taking his hand into hers.

"There goes your past", she said quietly.

"Yeah."

"Akenash almost looks peaceful under that blanket of ash. As if it's covered in fresh snow."

Styx had to smile, despite himself.

"Weird, isn't it? It burnt a hole in my soul back then, and now, with you burning it to the ground, I'm fixed again."

"I'm glad you see it that way", Maera responded. They stood silent for a while, watching the ashes cloak the valley under them.

"What was that little... that skinny Goblin that helped you with the Bigot? Oh, and I'm still not sure if I understood everything your former self told me about you. You think you're ready to tell me?", Maera asked softly. "I mean, I'm totally okay if you want to forget about all of this, but..."

"It's fine", Styx interrupted her, gazing out into the clouds of smoke emerging from the Atrium of Akenash. "You were right. I've been running away from my past for way too long. I've been a fucking coward, trying all I could to survive all those years, and that dipshit in the back of my mind scared me too much to even think about what happened in the past. The voice of my former self is gone now, it seems, and all his nasty stuff doesn't hurt me anymore. You saved my life by making me accept my past, and I owe you the truth. Now that I remember everything. And you owe me an explanation on those crazy firestarter abilities of yours."

He turned his face to hers. Maera was smiling. Styx's head swam when he saw her, and he had to smile himself.

"After this", she said.

They kissed.

The stars were shining brightly on a firmament like black velvet when Styx and Maera finally felt able to speak again. They were sprawled all over each other on the floor of the airship's cockpit, naked and covered in sweat. Both were gasping for breath. Maera rolled over to prop herself up on Styx's chest, with a wide, satisfied grin on her face, her dreadlocks all tousled. Styx himself managed a low chuckle.

"Fuck me sideways... Is it just me or are you getting better every time we do this?", he asked.

"I could ask the same", Maera replied softly, kissing his chest and the tip of his ear. "I can't put into words how much I've missed you. How much I've missed this."

"What part? The thing with my fingers, the thing with my tongue or the trick with you sitting on top of me in that weird angle that makes me feel like I'm going to explode?"

"All of it", Maera replied laughing. "And the trick that makes my neck sticky." She used one finger to pick up some of the greenish milky liquid that was running down between her breasts and licked it off.

"Yeah, that one. That's a good trick", Styx snickered. He wrapped her in his arms once more and kissed her deeply.

"I missed you too, little beauty, you know?"

"I know. You came to save me even if you knew it was a trap. My stupid, brave Rakash."

Styx smiled at that.

"Hey, I couldn't let those dickheads hurt you, could I? The mere thought gave me nightmares. And then you did most of the work to get us out of that shitpit, brave little troublemaker. Why the hell do you have this... fire control?", Styx asked, stretching his arms.

"All Dragonelves are not only impervious to heat, but also have the potential to become very powerful pyromancers. I've never really made use of those abilities, because, you know, playing with fire in a Library is a fucking stupid idea. But I've learned pyromancy, long ago. I meditated to gather my strength to roast those assholes when the right moment had come. But I didn't expect that they were going to force you to drink Amber and that you would get knocked out. It all went a little... out of control."

She looked at her left hand. The wound the Inquisition's men had cut in her palm to print her hand on the message for Styx had been burnt deeper by the Amber, and now the scar slightly glowed in the dark, with the veins in her wrist showing a faint golden shine as well. She made a worried face.

"I had a wound on my hand, and then I touched Amber. Is this gonna stay?"

Styx gently took her hand in his.

"Yeah, probably. Sorry, Maera. Amber eats into flesh. But hey, now you're gonna know when you're hidden in the shadows, just like me!" He pointed to his glowing shoulder tattoo. Maera laughed.

"I guess it'll remind me of what happened. Of how you risked your life to save me."

"Of how you saved me, you mean", Styx said. "Or, maybe, of how we saved each other."

"That sounds about right."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I think...", Styx mused, gazing up to the window of the cockpit into the starry sky. "I think we make a pretty good team, you and I."

It took Maera a while before she answered.

"I think so too."

"It would be a shame to not keep this up, wouldn't it?"

"It would be fucking stupid."

"Yeah, you say it! So stupid."

"So... The smartest thing would be to stay together, right?", Maera asked slowly, watching her own hand as she let it wander over Styx's belly.

Styx didn't answer.

"Bryn has already gotten used to you. And I've already put all those pillows for you in my bed. Would be a hell of an effort to store them away again."

"Then just leave the pillows there for me. Don't bother yourself."

"Don't worry. I'll leave them there."

"Good."

Styx took her hand with the glowing Amber mark in his once again and gently squeezed it. Below them, the whale oil engine was clattering softly, and they could hear the wind howling outside as the airship brought them back home. Styx had a home now, he reflected suddenly. He had somebody he belonged to, somebody to be together with. He felt Maera rub her face against his chest, her soft warm body pressed against his.

Styx had never felt so whole in his life.

Maera brought her face above his and tilted her head down to kiss him. "You wanna tell me your story now?"

Styx nodded and sat up, Maera still snuggled up to him in his arms. He breathed in and collected himself. He had never talked about this before, at least not voluntarily. But this was Maera, his Maera, and he trusted her more than he trusted himself.

"It's all really messed up, and I'm not sure were to begin."

"Just tell me about your first memories then, and work your way up", she encouraged him.

"Alright..." Styx pressed another kiss on Maera's forehead and started:

"I remember... That I was born in a dried up lake bed.

There was a big, dead tree.

Dozens of my kind crawling around... like rats.

But I wasn't like them.

I was a rat of another kind..."