Arthur sat at his desk in the captain's quarters, candlelight flickering over scattered parchments and half-rolled maps.
Letters from home.
One from Artizea, another from Elaine, a few from Rhyssand, and of course, his Mother. Even a short but sarcastic note from Eugene was neatly stacked beside him. But none from his father. Not one. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
"Figures—" he muttered to himself, dipping his quill in ink.
He had written before. The first letters had been formal, filled with status reports. Even when they became more personal. Less princely, more son. Still, no reply. Maybe his father was busy. Maybe the letters never reached him. Or Maybe—maybe he just did not care. But Arthur was nothing if not persistent. He was a Pendragon after all. A Pendragon never accepts defeat with open arms. So he started again. Straight to the point. Just like him.
"Father,
I have not received a single letter from you. I am beginning to think Fin is eating them before they arrive. I would not put it past him. However, if by some chance, you did receive them and simply chose not to respond, challenge accepted. You may ignore me today, but I will continue writing tomorrow.
The ship remains in good condition. The supply levels are stable, no fights among the crew (so far). Cesealia is well, and I—"
Arthur paused, tapping his quill against the parchment.
"I miss home. But—I think I'll give it a try out here. See where the wind takes me. Perhaps I will find what I am looking for soon. Your son…"
Arthur.
He sat back, staring at the ink as it dried. He folded the parchment, sealing it with his personal seal wax, and called for Fin, who swooped in through the open window and landed on his desk with a huff.
He held up the letter. "To my father."
Fin side-eyed him, then took the letter in his talons. "Would it help if I said I did eat them?" he asked.
Arthur leaned back in his chair, "It would,"
"Sucks I am a divine bird who can't though." Fin replied.
Arthur's lips twitched into a smirk as he watched him disappear into the night.
Maybe this time, he would get an answer.
Just maybe.
He'll say it back.