Bastian was free from Gorgo's influence.
Technically.
It didn't feel like he was, though.
He didn't cry as he went to bed and neither did he weep as he woke up. That had to count as a win. Somehow. If he didn't see it as a small victory of good over evil, he would crumble down since they were really short on that stuff at the moment.
He didn't remember any dreams, and neither did he want to recall them in the afternoon after sleeping off the grog. They were probably just regular nightmares.
He felt pain all over his body, but that was mostly related to his session with the witch. He chuckled darkly.
They were sailing away from Port Flintstone again, going towards a trade route that was full of merchants at this time of the year as they tried to finish their race against the monsoon season. The storms that would soon come would put the weather back home to shame as easily as a tiger overpowered a kitten. The waves were different here. Deeper, stronger.
