"Finn, listen to me." Henley's voice spoke in my mind, clear as crystal. I continued to grip the wheel.

"Finn, you need to let go." Her hands gently grasped mine, prying fingers from spokes one by one. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The bow was sinking quickly, and we weren't far behind. Already, the lowest deck was filled and the one below us was submerging rapidly.

"Finn!" Henley slapped my face to snap me out of my trance, and I looked wildly about. "You need to listen to me!" Her fingers pointed to the fragments of ship strewn about the water as another wave splashed across us.

"You got a plan?" I asked, hands shaking. Not from the water and wind, mind you.

Her eyes glowed with warmth. "I do, aye. But you're not gonna like it."

"Whatever it is has to be better than drowning. Let's get-" Henley grabbed my hand, and before I knew it, we were whisked through the air nearly a hundred foot away from the ship, falling onto a large piece of wreckage. We managed to grab hold of the sides and pull ourselves up, holding onto the center piece where a section of raised wood created a handhold big enough for both of us to hold.

"You're right! I don't like this plan at all!" Another wave washed over us, and I had to spit the water out that had made its way into my mouth.

"It's the best I've got. I just hope I can control the wind from here." Her voice sounded odd as she reached a hand up. "Come on...Come on!" The winds did not obey her direction, and another wave swept us further from the ship. The bow plunged into the sea, the stern following after. I couldn't see anyone else in the dark. We were the only survivors.

"Just hold on. We have to hold on." I tried to tell Henley, who laid her head against the wood beneath us, taking deep breaths in between the waves hammering us to and fro. As luck would have it, the storm soon subsided, and we were left to contemplate our fates in the dead of night, on the open ocean.

****************************

Morning came all too soon. I hadn't slept a wink. I spent the night studying the events during the storm, how I could have done better. But it was no use. That was in the past now. There was no changing it.

"Henley?" I turned to my companion, who was looking off toward the shoreline, now much closer over the course of our nighttime journey. I shook her gently, but she did not change her facing. "Henley. Come on, we need to swim to shore." Still, she did not budge.

I pulled on her shoulder, and she turned to face me. Her eyes, once a brilliant green, were now cloudy. Her lips were pale, her skin cold to the touch. Her body was stiff and tense. "Henley..." The lightning bolt, of course. How could I not have realized how much damage it had done to her? I closed her eyes, pulling her further up onto our little raft and folding her arms across her chest.

What had I ever done to deserve any of this? To be floating on the wreckage of a ship I should never have had to use for escape from a prison I should never have been sent to. To see good people sent to a watery grave, never to see their loved ones again.

Was this a punishment for going against my father? For defying his wishes and wanting to be my own person? I paddled to shore for three hours, trying not to let Henley see the pain I was in, just as she had done for me. "Just a little further, my friend. We're almost there." I knew it, but I could not accept the truth; I was talking only to myself. The dead can't hear you.

We washed up on shore with the tide, and I dragged Henley onto the beach. A short distance away, maybe an hour's walk, the Iron City of the East rose like a titan in the sunlight. I was tired, parched, and hungry. But I first had work to do. I managed to find a nice, big stick to use as a shovel. Further up the shore, away from the tide, I began to dig. Henley was a thin, spindly woman, but rigor mortis had set in; I couldn't fold her up, so I dug shallow but long.

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I laid her body down gently, pushing the hair from her face and kissing the top of her head. She'd been good to me, kept me safe. I would return what kindness I could in this, our last moment together. "Henley." I started, but my throat closed up. My eyes began to water, and I struggled through the tears that fell upon her unmoving face.

"I'm sorry, my friend. Sorry we can't travel together. Sorry we can't be heroes together. You wanted to see the world. I will try to do it for you...I will try to carry on for you. Give my regards to Ginger, wherever you two end up. Maybe I'll join you, when my time is done."

I sat in silence for what felt like hours, the sun pulsing down on me from on high, before I finally got up the courage to bury her. I figured it would be better if I left no evidence of what happened, so I shoved the raft back out into the ocean as the tide was going out. The wind picked up, and the wreckage bobbed up and down. Across the side, I could see now what we were holding onto throughout the night; the plaque inscribed with the name of the ship. The H.M.S. Tyrion. I watched it float out to sea, waves washing over it before it eventually sank to the bottom.

************

I don't know how long I wandered. Days, maybe weeks. I know I took the road from Kaina and headed to Mysthaven, then south to Lorelei. I wanted to hurt my father. I wanted to see my mother. I wanted to tell Frida I was alive. When I arrived, however, I found myself unable or perhaps unwilling to do any of that. I didn't want my mother to see me like this. I didn't want Frida to see the shell of a man her husband became. And I didn't want to give my father the satisfaction of knowing that in his dying moments, I became the monster he was.

So I stole into my old home and collected a few things; money, the knife my mother made for me long ago, a music box she used to use that now seemed neglected, and my father's favorite cufflinks. I admit, it was a petty decision, but he certainly loved those things more than either of us.

I chanced upon Bellamina while I was there. After barely managing to convince her not to tell anyone about my return, she told me the truth of why I was arrested; my father's business partner, a family friend named Ringo Jewelshine, had been murdered. She showed me a paper published a couple of days after my arrest saying that I was the one who killed him. Apparently, he'd been stealing from my father, and I decided to take him out for it. How easily the masses are persuaded when they lack any real evidence. But Bellamina said she'd always believed I was innocent, and had spent a few years trying to find the real culprit. How unfortunate for both of us that they'd been much closer to home than either of us expected.

Only two people knew who murdered Ringo. One of them had died by the time she found the other. It took some coaxing and more than a few drinks, but she managed to pry from their lips that my father, my own bloody father, was responsible for the crime, having beat Ringo to death in a fit of rage over an unprofitable venture. Unfortunately, she later heard of that person's untimely demise, and decided it was best to keep quiet on the subject. A wise decision. My father never suspected she knew.

Before I left, I crept up to the door to my parents' room and peeked in through the crack. I could see my mother's rocking chair, her figure sitting in it and looking into the roaring flames. I felt the pang of guilt, the desire to leap into the room and declare my glorious return. But then I remembered what it took to get here, what I'd done to escape. I lied, cheated, stole, and murdered to prepare for the day when I could leave the Cube. I was no longer the son she remembered. Finn Autumnsong II died in that place, and Tyrion Summerwind found his way out.

So I ran away. Nobody saw me go in or come out. I left Lorelei and never looked back. I couldn't even bear to visit Frida's home, or go anywhere near it. I didn't want to see what had become of her. Had she been thrown into the street? Was she even alive? I didn't want to know. I abandoned my life in that town and headed north again. I tried living as a beggar, but found it much easier to acquire things with a five-finger discount.

Mysthaven was my only stop. I made a few places to hide up out of the way of others, out of sight so nobody could bother me. I decided then to never associate with my father again. But when he arrived at the dinner tonight, I had to know what he was up to. Phinneas Autumnsong doesn't enter into any venture without a vested interest in his own wealth and power. So I tagged along with him to see what was up. Then I heard Lady Autumnsong was in town, and I couldn't believe it...But the woman who spoke in their room at Wesley's Rest wasn't my mother. I wanted to know what happened, and he got a little panicky at the thought of his secrets being exposed, so...here we are.