Saringallow

Evening

Nish left today. She’s going by boat because the roads west of here aren’t the safest way to travel, so we said our goodbyes on the docks at the riverfront.

“I’m not very good at this,” she said to me. “Saying good-bye, I mean. You’d think I would be by now.”

“Me neither,” I said. “I never know what to say. And I’m best at just avoiding it altogether.”

We embraced for a long time, then pulled away, both our eyes wet with tears.

“Look. I don’t know what happened behind you. But I know the difference between moving toward something and running away. Keep moving toward it, all right?”

I could only nod, fast and tight, then gave her another hug.

She pulled away first and boarded without another word.

Through the bond, I felt Iskaryn’s steady presence from somewhere above the rooftops. Not pushing. Not correcting. Just there.

I stayed and watched until the boat pushed off and slipped into the river’s current.