Instead of jewels, Shyan finds Master Davit. He’s alive and well, a beatific smile upon his lined face. He gestures for her to assume the stance, and she does so gracefully, without word.
Emotions and mistrust war behind her eyes but incontrovertibly, Davit is before her in a warm pool of light.
They go through the warmup motions together, and Shyan feels light, loose, ready to spar.
The voices of her companions have fallen silent. She no longer hears the grind of stone, the creaky voice, the ominous knocking. All is right in the dark.