The calcatryte was fading, bit by bit.
Jonathan stood up. He looked worn, but his lips smiled.
"It's done," he whispered.
"You won't stay?"
A smile came and dwelt on Jonathan's lips.
"No," he said. "No, I won't stay. I am going back to Neeoorna, and then to Zarathza—to look at a sunrise coming up over the waters of the Jaralayan Sea."
He went out, and the door closed behind him, softly.