Having expected Théadan to agree to them moving onward, Navia looked back at him in surprise when he announced he would catch up. She said nothing in response other, opting to instead nod her understanding and watch Théadan dismount Varinata near what Navia understood to be a mass grave. Wyndagar continued walking forward, and while she knew Théadan probably wanted privacy while he knelt before the statue placed before the mound, Navia twisted in the saddle to watch. She knew him, knew his heart and his guilt. She could only hope the experience was somehow somewhat cathartic for him. Her heart went out to him in that moment, to her people, her country. The tears that had welled up fell freely, sliding down the high Khluri cheekbones and dripping onto the Mes’Mo’Tanian clothes she still wore.<br/><br/>It wasn’t until Théadan stood that Navia turned back in her seat to try to regain her composure. Trusting Wyndagar not to take advantage of the temporary freedom, she dropped his reins. Both hands rose up to wipe at the tears falling down her cheeks while she looked ahead at the land they still needed to cross. That was only one town, one of dozens that had been ransacked and destroyed by the Mes’Mo’Tanian armies. She had known her country had been ravaged by the Mes’Mo’Tanians in many places, but had only experienced the downfall of Vanam. She dreaded seeing more, but knew the further south they went, the less they would see. They only needed to reach the Talujas before they could begin the journey southward. She just needed to be strong enough to get past it all; she hated the idea of Théadan feeling guilty over her reactions to the ruins. To give them both a reminder of what they had found despite all the terrible things done to Khlurios and to them, Navia picked the reins back up to guide Wyndagar into walking more closely to Varinata. Wordlessly Navia reached out, gesturing for Théadan to place his hand in hers with her palm stretched outward, and once he did, she brought their joined hands up to her lips so she could press them to the back of his hand.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>They had ridden closely beside each other for another hour, not speaking much but silently using each other’s proximity for support. The road was growing wilder, plants beginning to sprout up from the dirt and telling of how little it had been used in past months. They had passed more towns in states much like the one with the eagle statue, providing Navia with little reassurance the one they sought was still standing. The land was growing slightly hillier and as they ascended one, Navia sighed and scanned their surroundings with her near-black eyes. “We should be getting close,” she pointed out, pursing her lips together nervously, “Zyena is not a large city, but Sura’s temple is one of our largest and the Talujas have a large home facing it so they can always be close. They’ll have more than enough room for us and I’m sure I can—“<br/><br/>Navia came to an abrupt stop and pulled Wyndagar’s reins to have him do the same when they reached the crest of the hill. A small valley with a river running through it was laid out in the distance before them, perfect for a town to flourish. Trees lined along the river, leading up to several tan buildings. The center of the town was a rectangular pond where the river had been widened. Built in the middle of the pond stood the proud temple of Sura. Several stories high, domed roofs and intricate architecture, the temple entrance was supposed to have a mighty eagle with its wings extended as if to prepare to fly towering above it. The town should have been abustle with people, should have been a glimmer of excitement for them that they had reached their next destination.<br/><br/>Instead Navia looked up it with dismay. The fields surrounding Zyena had been burnt just like the others they had passed. Many of the buildings charred shells of their past glory. It was eerily quiet, no movement could be detected coming from the distant city. “Where…” At a loss for words, disbelief stark on her features, Navia dismounted without the usual grace she exuded when riding. She took a few steps forward toward the town, searching for places that had not been ruined by fire, and her eyes were drawn to the massive temple in the center. The building itself did not seem to be in as bad of condition as the rest of Zyena, but Sura’s statue no longer welcomed the faithful with open wings. Even from where they stood, the size of the statue could be seen, crumbled amongst the ropes that had been used to pull it down. Only the impressive eagle’s feet remained, the statue having broken at the weakest point. The removal of the statue alone would have been a major blow to any Khluri who heard of the Mes'Mo'Tanians' cruelty to their religion.<br/><br/>The earth met her shins roughly. Disgust for what had been done to a sacred place to the Khluri caused her stomach to churn roughly, but it was fear for her friend that had her falling to kneel on the spot. Had Rhodon killed Tahira? Done awful things to her that Navia knew he was capable of? Or had obliterating an important city in Khluri religion been enough for him? Sighing heavily as the tears once again began to well in her eyes, Navia adjusted her legs to sit on the dead grass she had knelt upon. Her hand dipped into the neck of her dress and gently pulled the priceless necklace she so desperately wanted to return out to be on display. Her slender fingertips brushed over the jewels, but she could not tear her eyes away from what Rhodon’s army had done to Sura’s temple. How was she supposed to return the necklace if no one was there to accept it? She could not see the interior of the temple, but if the Mes'Mo'Tanians had treated the exteriorly so horrendously, surely the temple's interior was just as lost. There would be likely no longer be a spot to even place Sura's Necklace. Navia had been wearing the necklace for what seemed like months with every intention of seeing it home, of placing it back in Tahira's hands, and the realization that it would not be possible weighed heavily upon her. Releasing a cough of a sob, clutching the sacred jewelry, she fought back the tears, bowed her head, and prayed for her friend and country.