She wishes him well. Velleity, beautiful in its traces, marks her without relent; fills her eyes with woe, casts them toward the ocean like a philosopher grown tired of his lot. Sacred space… Consecrate it? Desecrate it? Let it go. Let it fill the cobalt lacuna in a deeper, more encompassing sorrow.

"You were lovely here," She speaks, and perhaps she sings it lightly, letting it dance between the rocks like seaweed spread too thin. "Your frailty summoned by compassion… Your touch, of homesickness wrought, felt softer than any summons of strength," the rocks on the shore are wet beneath her feet, ushering the waves into foam, letting even the ocean dissolve for a moment, and she does not note how much smaller the ship is becoming; does not pretend that it is only growing tinier rather than farther, that it is only a deception brought upon by the endless, biting fog. His sweetness, like the ocean in breadth, went unmatched; a fallow land saved only for a single venture.

" – And now," she continues. Her voice is quaint, hopelessly poisoned by doubt; for even this harmony, its smoothness greater than even the ocean floor, was unable to wrest thoughts of home from his mind, unable to slide them free, unable to keep him in a grasp more devoted than immortality. "I must free you from this place, and from my mind. I must let the wind fill your sails, and I –"

Her hands are cold. The waves crash around her; she does not hear them; the vapor sprays her in the scent of coastal belonging, but she does not care. "- must let you go."

Armistice has no place in heartache. The shoreline grows whiter with foam, a pother of comfort made just for her, but not truly; it encircles her ankles like rare and exquisite pearls, glittering just for the sake of existence alone – she does not notice, her dress caught in the shallow waves, billowing like a flag of surrender. It is a rocky place, it is a dead place, it is a place whist with longing, or screaming with a roaring vinculum of guilt. It is so many things, a place of home and comfort, a place of torture and desolation, of endless crashing and drowning; it is deathless, remote, and quiet with a silence that never is.

"Dare I wish that you return?"

She dares not.

"Dare I wish upon the disappearing, slight particle that rides the waves before me, so small and perfect that it may as well be a star, an asterism drifting; wandering somewhere, lost at sea? Dare I wish at all?"

His sails flare from miles away, and the star brightens.

"Then I wish to be cast into the sea, made as eternal and ever-present as the waves…" A deep breath fills her as weeping inwardly becomes her, trembling like the surface of the watery deep - "So I may forever be with you, my only explorer. So that no matter where you sail, or the miles you cross, I will be forever surrounding you; and I will always be touching the lands that you touch."