Elena led Dust through Port Cray's winding streets to a small café overlooking the harbor. The owner, a matronly woman with flour-dusted aprons, clearly knew Elena well and provided them with a quiet corner table without question.
"My tutor used to bring me here when I was younger," Elena explained as they settled in with tea and the books she'd brought from the library. "Mrs. Carlin doesn't mind if we spend hours here, as long as we order something occasionally."
From their window seat, Dust could see the Sea Witch bobbing at her moorings, crew members loading the last of the luxury cargo that would take them north. Tomorrow evening, he'd be aboard her again, heading toward destinations he couldn't yet imagine.
"Feeling melancholy?" Elena asked, noticing his gaze.
"Just thinking about how much has changed in such a short time," Dust replied. "A week ago, I could barely write my own name. Now..."
"Now you can read simple texts and do basic arithmetic," Elena finished. "Not bad for a few days' work." She opened one of the books to a page they'd been working on earlier. "But before you sail away, there's something else I want to teach you."
"More reading?"
"Letter writing. If you're going to see the world, you should be able to tell others about it." Elena pulled out paper and ink from her bag. "And perhaps... perhaps you might want to stay in contact with friends you make along the way."
The suggestion was made casually, but Dust caught the slight hesitation in her voice. The idea of maintaining contact with someone in Port Cray—with Elena specifically—was appealing in ways he hadn't expected.
"I'd like that," he said simply.
For the next hour, Elena walked him through the basics of letter composition. How to structure thoughts clearly, common phrases for beginning and ending correspondence, proper forms of address. Dust's handwriting was still crude, but it was legible, and his spelling was improving rapidly.
"Try writing a practice letter," Elena suggested. "To anyone you choose. It doesn't have to be long—just a few sentences describing something that's happened to you recently."
Dust considered for a moment, then began writing carefully:
Dear Clara,
I hope you are safe and well. I had to leave Lower Ashmark quickly, as you know, but I wanted you to know that I think of you often. I am on a ship now, learning to be a sailor. The world is bigger than I imagined, and there are good people in it.
I promise I will return someday, when I am strong enough to help properly.
Your friend, Dust
Elena read over his shoulder as he wrote, saying nothing until he finished. "Clara is someone important to you?"
"An old woman who was kind to me when she didn't have to be. She's probably still in Lower Ashmark, still afraid of men like Marcus Garrett." Dust set down the pen, frustrated. "I could write her a dozen letters, but they'd never reach her. She can't read, and even if she could, Garrett's people watch everything that comes and goes from Lower Ashmark."
"Letters have a way of finding their destinations," Elena said thoughtfully. "My father's shipping company has trade routes that reach most of the major ports. If you wrote to her properly—with a real address—I could arrange for it to be delivered."
"You'd do that?"
"Of course. Though you might want to be careful about what you write. If this Garrett person is as dangerous as you suggest, an intercepted letter could put both you and Clara at risk."
Dust nodded, understanding the wisdom in her caution. But the possibility of letting Clara know he was safe, that he hadn't forgotten her kindness, was tempting.
"What about you?" he asked, changing the subject. "Will you keep learning after I leave? Or do you already know everything Port Cray can teach?"
Elena laughed. "Hardly. I've been thinking about attending the University of Valdris—it's the most prestigious school in the northern kingdoms. They accept women now, though it's still unusual."
"What would you study?"
"Law, perhaps. Or natural philosophy. Something that would let me make a real difference in the world." Elena's expression grew serious. "I've lived a privileged life, Dust. I've never had to worry about food or shelter or safety. But watching what happened last night, seeing how easily those men thought they could abuse someone weaker... it made me realize that privilege comes with responsibility."
"To help others?"
"To use whatever advantages I have to make things more fair for everyone." Elena met his eyes directly. "You protected me when I was vulnerable. Now I want to spend my life protecting people who don't have powerful fathers to shield them."
They spent the remaining afternoon working on more complex writing exercises, with Elena sharing stories of Port Cray's history and Dust describing life aboard the Sea Witch. As the sun began to set, painting the harbor in shades of gold and crimson, they knew their time was nearly up.
"I should get back to the ship," Dust said reluctantly. "We sail at dawn, and Captain Aldrich expects all crew aboard by sunset."
"Of course." Elena gathered the books and papers, but made no move to leave immediately. "Dust?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For last night, obviously, but also for today. I've spent my entire life surrounded by people who tell me what they think I want to hear. You've been honest with me from the beginning—about your past, your limitations, your hopes. That's... rare."
"You've been kinder to me than I had any right to expect," Dust replied. "In Lower Ashmark, people like us would never have met, let alone become friends."
"Then perhaps we're both lucky to be here instead of there."
They walked back toward the harbor together, taking a longer route that wound through Port Cray's most beautiful districts. The city was settling into evening routines—shops closing, families gathering for dinner, workers heading home from their labors.
"It's peaceful," Dust observed. "I keep expecting something to go wrong, someone to start shouting or fighting. But people here seem... content."
"Port Cray has its problems," Elena said. "Corruption, inequality, people like those three men who think wealth makes them untouchable. But overall, yes—it's a good place to live. People have opportunities here, if they're willing to work for them."
As they reached the harbor district, Elena stopped and pulled out a small leather portfolio. "I have something for you," she said, handing it to him.
Inside were several sheets of good paper, a small ink bottle, and a pen wrapped in soft cloth. There was also a sealed letter addressed in Elena's careful handwriting.
"The writing supplies are for your journey," she explained. "And the letter is an introduction to a friend of my family's in Northport—that's where most ships from Port Cray head next. If you need help there, or just want to continue your education, she'll be able to assist you."
"Elena, I can't accept this. It's too much."
"It's nothing compared to what you've given me," she said firmly. "Besides, I have a selfish motive—I want you to write to me. About the places you see, the people you meet, the adventures you have. Consider it payment for my curiosity about the world beyond Port Cray."
Dust carefully tucked the portfolio inside his cloak, next to the glass shard that had helped him escape Garrett's cellar. Strange how small objects could carry such significance.
"I'll write," he promised. "And perhaps someday, when you're at university or practicing law or changing the world, our paths will cross again."
"I'd like that very much," Elena said softly.
They had reached the Sea Witch's berth. Captain Aldrich was on deck, overseeing the final preparations for departure. Other crew members were already aboard, stowing gear and checking rigging.
"Dust!" Korvain called from the ship. "Good timing. We're about ready to cast off the dock lines."
"I should go," Dust said to Elena.
"Safe travels," she replied. "And remember—you're not the same person who fled Lower Ashmark. You're stronger now, more capable. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise."
As Dust boarded the Sea Witch, he watched Elena walk away into the gathering dusk of Port Cray. She moved with confidence and purpose, every inch the educated young woman she was. But she'd also shown him kindness and friendship when he'd needed it most.
The ship pulled away from the dock as the last light faded from the sky. Port Cray's lights twinkled like stars reflected in the harbor water, and Dust could see the library's white columns gleaming in the moonlight.
"Good visit ashore?" Captain Aldrich asked, joining him at the rail.
"The best," Dust replied honestly. "I learned more in three days than I had in years."
"That's what the best ports do—teach you something new about yourself." Aldrich clapped him on the shoulder. "Now get some rest. We'll be in Northport in five days, and there's work to be done before then."
As Dust made his way below deck, he thought about Elena's words. He wasn't the same person who'd fled Lower Ashmark. He could read now, write letters, navigate the complexities of a more civilized world. He had friends aboard this ship, connections in ports ahead.
Most importantly, he was beginning to understand that strength came in many forms. Not just the brute force that men like Garrett wielded, but the quiet power of knowledge, friendship, and the determination to keep growing.
The Sea Witch cut through the dark waters toward new horizons, carrying Dust toward whatever adventures awaited. And for the first time in his life, he felt ready to meet them.