“Watch, watch!” Ingrid called when her parents approached, then touched the back of Wyndagar’s knee with an excited, “<i>Tulana!</i>” Again, Wyndagar obeyed and with the hint of a bright smile on her face, Navia reached out and gave the horse an affectionate pat. “It’s the beginning of a<i>vivarta</i>,” she explained so the confused looks on Brydon and Silva’s faces would dissipate, “I taught it to Wyn before we even reached Nygaard. Apparently Théadan remembered and shared it with Ingrid even though he was angry when he saw Wyn practicing.”<br/><br/>“He didn’t want people noticing you becoming close with Wyndagar,” Brydon pointed out, “He’s been trained to only listen to Théadan. A Khluri working closely with a royal horse would have been highly suspicious for any Mes’Mo’Tanian.”<br/><br/>More interested in how the trick had turned Ingrid’s attitude around, Silva went to crouch beside her daughter with a patient smile. “Will you show us one more time before we go, Inny?”<br/><br/>Though the realization that her time with Wyndagar was coming to an end caused the smile on her face to falter, Ingrid nodded and one last time commanded that Wyndagar curl and raise his leg in a fanciful step. He did so dutifully, drawing another giggle from Ingrid before she hurried around to hug the horse goodbye. It had become her normal parting gesture, so Wyndagar knew to drop his head down to Ingrid’s height so she could hug him. The adults waited patiently and after nearly a minute, Silva gently guided Ingrid toward the stairs. She was sniffling again, but had enough control in her voice to call out goodbye to both Wyndagar and Théadan before she was ushered toward the stairs.<br/><br/>“I’m going to walk them back to the docks,” Navia called out to Théadan so he would know she’d be back, then followed the Eyles family up the stairs. The walk back to the main deck was a quiet one, subdued with everyone regarding their own thoughts. Once they reached the sunlight and Navia had walked them back to the gangway, she found she did not know what to say. How did one thank three people who had done so much for them? Brydon had saved Théadan’s life, Silva had kept her hopeful, and Ingrid had made his recuperation bearable. She owed them all so much that a hug and a thank you felt like too little.<br/><br/>Ingrid demanded one anyway, and Navia was happy to provide. She knelt and hugged the girl tightly, burying her face in the fiery curls that had captivated her so much at first. Silva was next, who hugged Navia tighter than she had expected and thanked her for being a good friend to both her and her parents, and she managed to receive a handshake from Brydon. “Keep that idiot prince of yours off his feet for at least another week,” Brydon said while clapping Navia’s shoulder with his other hand. She nodded with a chuckle, then stepped aside so the family could leave the ship together. She was finding it difficult to speak, the emotions of watching them go causing a lump in her throat. Silva carried Ingrid and occasionally glanced back at Navia to smile at her, but Ingrid never looked away. Instead she solemnly waved at Navia all the way down the plank until they reached the dock again.<br/><br/>Once the family was off the ship, the Khluri sailors efficiently set about removing the plank and all the ropes that kept the ship tied to the dock. They worked around Navia, leaving her to wave at Ingrid a little longer.<br/><br/>On impulse, Silva turned back and called up to her, “<i>A’loch darne!”</i>and it brought a wistful smile to Navia’s lips. She knew that one.<i>Safe journey.</i>“Thank you!” She called back, then started to return to Théadan. The splendor of Mes’Mo’Tan laid out before her gave her pause however, and Navia’s gaze lifted from the ship, from the docks, from the town. Near-black eyes took in the forestry surrounding the outer fringe of the town where the Beast likely still laid dead, then lifted further to the mountains behind it. Eastward they scanned, following the path she and Théadan had ventured across. Somewhere among those peaks were Ivarn and Ragná and further inland, the tavern where she and Théadan had stopped, the cave, the abandoned farm, Nygaard. It was all out there, everything they had endured, everything they had experienced together, all the people who had both helped and harmed them, and with the last rope thrown onto the dock so the<i>Uttarana </i>was free, so were they. They had done it. Wishing Théadan was well enough to be on the main deck with her, Navia gave one long last look at Mes’Mo’Tan. It had done so much to harm her and her people, yet had given her the greatest gift of all. For that, Navia would always be grateful to the harsh, cold, beautiful country.<br/><br/>The walk back down to the steerage deck was slow simply because men stopped to introduce themselves to her, to bow to her, to ask if she needed anything. By the time she reached Wyndagar and gave him a passing pat, Navia was frayed. Knowing they were about to be on a ship for close to a month was hard, saying goodbye to her friends was harder, and knowing Théadan was leaving his home was hardest. Wordlessly, Navia stepped into the tiny room, her eyes sad and movements slow. She shed her cloak and her boots, then climbed into the bed beside Théadan. Curling up next to him, she tugged a blanket up from the bottom of the bed to cover them. “How are you?” She asked quietly once they were covered, her voice sorrowful, eyes near tears.