So this is bit of a continuation of my story "After the Fact" (part 9 in this series), and takes place about a year later. Please enjoy!

The pen spun once around its own axis, then did a slow loop before he plucked it from the air. Practice was all well and good, but now he was just procrastinating. The large, makeshift building where they were staying was usually full of some kind of activity, be it from the mercenaries themselves or the crusaders, but right now it was fairly quiet, too late at night, or indeed too early in the morning, for most. But he hadn't slept. He'd spent most of the night trying to think of a way to go about this, to find the right words. How did you even start a letter like this?

Ever since he ran away from the Bloody Queen he knew the day would come when he would have to seek them out again, one way or another. But that had always been in the future. Now that the future was suddenly here it didn't matter that he had gone through every scenario he could imagine at least a hundred times in his mind, because he'd honestly never thought of this one. It was far from the ideal solution, and not what he would have chosen if he'd had a choice, but given the circumstances this was the best that he could think of.

With a soft sight he pulled his gloves off and adjusted the pen in his grip. There was just no amount of time that would make this any easier. The captain had never struck him as a man who appreciated having his time wasted, especially not by someone like him, so he should just skip the fluff and pleasantries and get straight to the point.

'Greetings captain,

My name is Jona, though most of the crew would call me Mouse, or simply cabin boy. You may not remember me, but I used to be on your crew, working to pay off a debt. However after that storm outside of Vol'dun, the one that forced us to beach the ship for repairs, I ran away. I left a letter behind promising I would return with the money I owe one day. This is me keeping that promise.

Unless something unfortunate has happened along the way the bag you've received with this letter inside should also contain a fairly substantial amount of coin. I know it's not enough to pay off the whole debt, but consider it a down payment. I'm sorry it has taken me this long.'

Jona paused to look at the nondescript leather pouch next to him on the bench. All of his savings, over a year's worth of mercenary work, every spare copper put aside for this very purpose. His rucksack felt considerably lighter without it, like a literal weight off his shoulders. Of course there had been a sense of security in having that money around. If something happened it could mean your next meal, clothes, a place to sleep, a healer. But that security paled in comparison to the peace of mind it gave him knowing he was doing everything in his power to secure their safety. And in all fairness what good would it do him on the other side? When he was dead? This was the very reason he was even here.

He just wished he could be more confident in the outcome, and that he could have made more thorough preparations. But the situation had just changed too quickly for that. If life had taught him any kind of lesson it was that you had to try and roll with the punches and adapt, because things rarely turned out like you expected them to. One morning like any other you could just wake up to find that everything you knew had been turned upside down, never to be the same again.

The other night he had dreamt about Kirin for the first time in a long while. It hadn't even been a nightmare for once, more like a scene from his life before all this, something almost entirely ordinary. It was hard to admit, but he hadn't even realized that he dreamt about him less and less. It wasn't as if he didn't think about Kirin, his brother was like an ever-present thought in his mind, a memory playing in the background. But as time passed the everyday seemed to slowly smooth out all the keen edges, the vivid sharpness. Perhaps he was slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that he would never see him again. The guilt was still there, but it didn't hit him quite as hard every time he thought about him, there was also warmth, and happy memories.

Sometimes there was so much else going on that he didn't think about the past, or the future. About why he was doing what he was doing and why he had to do it. But that didn't mean he had forgotten. He could never forget. Mikka, Vesp, Tamsin, Cato. Kirin may be gone, but they weren't. He might never get to see them again either, but maybe they could still get to see each other.

'The reason I am sending it to you like this, rather than seeing you in person, is because I may not get another chance. Perhaps you have heard what has happened over Icecrown, the broken sky and the invasion of undead. The people I work with are going to cross over to try and stop it, and I'm joining them, which is why I am sending you all the money I have saved up so far. If nothing else, I hope that this can be proof to you that I honestly intend to keep my word to you, and that if I make it back again I will continue to pay back the rest.

I realize that I'm in no position to ask anything of you, but under these circumstances I have no other choice but to try. I'm not the only person bound by this debt, my whole family is, and two of them ended up in a similar situation as me. Their names are Cato and Mikka, and they were in the same cell as I was that day when you picked me out and brought me to your ship. Perhaps you know where they are, or could find out. If you could find it in your heart to help us, perhaps you could use this first payment to settle their share of the debt, and buy my family member's freedom. Words can't express how much it would mean to us, I would be forever grateful. I don't ask that you do it for free; I will reimburse every extra copper spent as long as I'm alive to do it. I just want to put things right.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Sincerely,
Jona'

Sniffling he quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve, before the tears welling up could stain the parchment and smear the words, or before anyone could see him crying. He really didn't want to explain himself to anyone. Last time he had been upset and showed a little bit of vulnerability in front of someone they had just bitten his head clean off. He most definitely didn't need that right now. Jona wiped his eyes again, and then his nose as well for good measure, before he went ahead and added the final part of the letter, nib scratching across the parchment.

'P.S. Please tell Navigator Clearwell that I haven't forgotten all the things that he did for me.'

One sentence wasn't nearly enough to express how he felt, but then this letter wasn't about his feelings. He had to keep in mind who he was addressing it to, and why.

Even so, this was the least he could do. After all this time, after everything that had happened, he still missed Hashin. Perhaps that wasn't so strange, he hadn't felt that way about anyone else before, or since, nor met anyone who felt that way about him, either. Hashin had been his first, and honestly the way things were looking right now he was probably going to be his last as well. The man may not have been the reliable rock he could always lean on, but he had never felt judged by him, or looked down upon. And in all fairness was he any better? Looking back on it now, with the new perspectives he had found along the way, maybe they had both been trying to lean a bit on each other.

But there was more to it. The things Hashin had taught him had saved his life. Without his magic there was no chance he would have gotten this far, or earned this amount of money this fast. He'd likely still be stuck in Vol'dun, or dead in a ditch somewhere. That he owed him was an understatement, but he also knew the man well enough to know he wasn't expecting anything in return.

Leaving Hashin behind had been the hardest choice he'd ever had to make. Up to that point things had just happened to him, he had been pulled along with the current, only reacting to everything around him while trying to keep his head above water. Running from the Bloody Queen had been different. He didn't regret his decision, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.

With everything going on in the world he only hoped that he was safe.

That was it. Considering how he felt he was a little surprised at how precise his handwriting had turned out, lines neat and clean. Sitting back he gave the ink a few moments to dry, then picked the letter up and read it from beginning to end a few times, checking for spelling errors, bad grammar and the like. It had been a good while since he'd written anything in Common. Once he was satisfied it was fine he folded the letter gently and slid it into an envelope, writing the captain's name on the back and sealing it with a dollop of the black wax which the crusaders had kindly lent him. He didn't have any kind of seal or stamp so he just left the wax the way it was, the glossy blob would still serve its purpose, even if it didn't look quite as fancy.

Grabbing his spare blanket he spread it out over the bench and placed the large coin pouch in the middle, folding all the corners neatly inwards and wrapping it all up into a tight bundle. Hopefully the thick wool would help to muffle any tempting clinking and jingling. He stuffed the bundle into the simple bag he had made earlier out of his old duffel, the word 'Mouse' faded almost beyond recognition from the canvas by now. There hadn't been much of an opportunity to go shopping for a new one, and anyway he was trying to save money, so he had to get a little creative. You could do a lot with a needle and some strong sewing thread. The result wasn't too bad, bit of a tight fit, but that was probably a good thing.

Before the envelope went on top he placed his threadbare old shirt inside, mended, washed and neatly folded. The very same one he had worn on the ship. The one the captain had given him with the sailor's attire. It had a bit of a sentimental value by now, felt like leaving a part of his life behind, even if it was just a physical reminder. Some of the things he wanted to forget, some he wanted to cling to. But it was long past due; mostly he was glad to be rid of it.

He flexed his fingers before gripping the pen again, trying to make the calligraphy look official and important-like as he wrote another short note, attaching it to the bag's strap.

'Property of Captain Eugene Forester of the Bloody Queen'

There was only one thing left to do now. It didn't matter how well-written the letter was, or how discreetly packed the coin, unless he could get them to the man in question. He needed to find someone who was staying behind, who he could trust with the money and who would be willing to drop the bag off with the innkeeper at Scalawag Point for him. He didn't want to drag anyone else into this, but he had no other choice, he couldn't do this on his own.

There was no way to send it directly to the Bloody Queen, because he didn't know where they were at any given time. However, after more than a year on board he did have a good idea of what ports they would eventually visit. It was a long shot, in the dark, but it was the best he could do. Perhaps his efforts would end in making an innkeeper very happy, or perhaps the captain would simply take the coin and dismiss the letter without a second thought. Maybe the package would never even reach its destination. But there was no point in dwelling on that now. There was at least a chance that this could work, and that would have to be enough.