In zailor's tales, there was always one more horizon, the Mountain of Light looming in the South, the long stretch of possibility spanning from Irem to Kingeater's in the East, and the dark beyond dark that brooded in the North, no brighter for all the candles in the Chapel.

The last horizon was the horizon that brought you home. Back to London, back to dockside crowds spilling over in life and laughter, back to the love you've kept in your locket and carried to every horizon since.