“We come from northern ships. We are going to the Saviour Island taking alms gathered from the ship people. But we have run out of fuel…” Narivan says to the guard. The guard wants to see their documents, their coins and the alms. Narivan points to Dalia. She brings the coins and takes out two hundred coins declaring them as the alms. She then gives the other three hundred coins to the guard for the fuel.

“Why didn’t you go to Oxan for the fuel?” the guard asks taking the coins. Dalia shows her clear arm to him.

“We were going to get out tattoos in the Saviour Island. Missioners don’t come to our ships. That’s why we collected alms and want to go to the Saviour Ship, asking them to send a missioner. We couldn’t get in to Oxan without tattoos,” Dalia explains. The guard looks at her in a strange way. He then turns to Tirad.

“What about you? Are you a diver or a fisher?” he asks. Tirad doesn’t know what to say. Even if he says he is a diver or a fisher, his long hair and beard would give him up. He unwraps Narivan’s turban from his arm, feeling the worried stares of Dalia and Narivan fixed on him. But he needs to tell a better lie. He shows the guard his Saviour tattoo and takes out his personal mission paper from his bag. He hands the guard the reports of the dead pregnant women. Even though he preferred his Saviour tattoo had saved him from giving any explanations, but things are different here.

“I had a personal mission to investigate these deaths on the northern ships and when I reached the Avij Ship, I realised no missioner had been there for a long time. I encouraged them to collect alms and send their representatives to the Saviour Ship with me to pay their respects,” Tirad explains. The guard nods his head and seems to have accepted Tirad’s words. He walks towards Tirad respectfully, shakes his hand and speaks in a sorry tone.

“Please accept my condolences,” he says. Tirad looks at him surprised. The guard understands he hasn’t heard the news yet.

“A courier just arrived from the Saviour Island… I am so sorry to say that the First Disciple has passed away. We have to spread the news. The parting ceremony takes place in five or six days’ time. All the ship chiefs are invited,” he continues. Tirad falls on his knees. Dalia moves towards him but Narivan gives her a gesture, reminding her not to touch Tirad. The boat, the naval and the waves seem to be circling around Tirad’s head in a cloud of smoke and fire. He couldn’t save Hurmaz’s life. The news had come precisely as Mart had planned. Tirad has lost, completely broken, with nowhere to go. They have killed Hurmaz and he hadn’t done anything to prevent it. He had been wandering about on the sea trying to get back while he should have never left Hurmaz in the first place. He can’t take it in… The horrific news and the raw fish he had eaten an hour ago seem indigestible. He drags himself to the gunwale and throws up into the sea. Dalia comes to him, cleaning his face with a wet cloth. She gives him some water and helps him sit on the deck, stretching out his legs.