Yrene stands on the deck of a ship at dawn, prepar­ing to leave Anti­ca for her home­land. As the city stirs to life, she takes in the famil­iar sights—the minarets, the shin­ing quar­ters, and the Torre Cesme—one last time. The autumn winds whip the seas, and the ship bobs beneath her, mark­ing the begin­ning of her jour­ney home. Despite the bustling activ­i­ty around her, Yrene remains lost in thought, reflect­ing on her time in Anti­ca and the uncer­tain future that awaits her across the Nar­row Sea.

Before depart­ing, Yrene shares a poignant farewell with Prince Kashin, who arrives just as she is about to board. Their con­ver­sa­tion reveals lin­ger­ing pain but also mutu­al under­stand­ing and friend­ship. Kashin express­es regret for past words but grat­i­tude for their bond, hint­ing at his own future free­dom now that his broth­er Sar­taq is the heir. Yrene thanks him for his kind­ness, and their part­ing is bit­ter­sweet, filled with unspo­ken emo­tions and the hope of meet­ing again.

As the ship sets sail, Yrene remains on deck, watch­ing Anti­ca shrink into the dis­tance. The Torre Cesme, a sym­bol of hope and calm, stands tall against the morn­ing sky, its white stones glint­ing in the sun­light. Yrene won­ders if she will ever return, know­ing the war that lies ahead. The wind, as if blessed by the gods, pro­pels them for­ward, car­ry­ing her toward an uncer­tain des­tiny. The city’s sights, sounds, and scents linger in her mem­o­ry as she braces her­self for the chal­lenges to come.

The chap­ter clos­es with Yrene’s unwa­ver­ing gaze on the hori­zon, even as Anti­ca fades from view. The Torre Cesme remains a dis­tant bea­con, its pres­ence a com­fort­ing farewell. The jour­ney home is fraught with emo­tion and antic­i­pa­tion, as Yrene and her com­pan­ions pre­pare to face the loom­ing con­flict. The imagery of the tow­er, like an upraised arm, under­scores the themes of depar­ture, resilience, and the endur­ing bonds forged in Anti­ca.