The four witnesses bowed. Alia had played the point they asked of her, and a door stood open onto a court she had never seen. She stayed beneath the wreath.
Its endless crossing joined the mountain court, the water court, the garden court and the court of stars. She had travelled through all four and carried a token from each. In the point, their teachings had worked together: structure from the mountain, adaptation from water, care from the garden, trust from the stars. It had ended quietly.
“I have completed the journey,” Alia said. “I should remain where completion can be seen.”
The wreath tightened. The tokens grew heavy in her hands.
Alia held a feast beneath it. She named what had ended, thanked her teachers and grieved the companions who were no longer there. For the length of the celebration she allowed the journey to be finished.
Then she set the four tokens down. The wreath opened.
Alia crossed the threshold carrying nothing visible. Behind her, the mountain, water, garden and stars remained joined.