Until We Meet Again

In the study on the top floor of the experimental tower, Ron was sitting by the window, reading a letter.

The paper was of exquisite make, but the handwriting on it was crooked and wavering, without the slightest kingly bearing. In some strokes, one could even tell they had been left by a trembling hand.

It was written by an old friend before his death.

An old man who could no longer hold a pen steady had poured out the last of his strength to leave his closest friend these final words.

"Ron:

Seeing these words is like seeing me.

By the time you read this letter, I may already be gone.

I've lived this long. I got my money's worth.

There are three things I'm proudest of in my life:

First, turning Farouk from a small border kingdom into a continental power;

Second, watching the children of our two families marry;

Third, making a friend like you.

As for regrets... I only have one. I didn't wait until you came back.

But that's all right.

If you miss me, have a drink.

Remember to pick a good one. Don't fool me again with that bitter water brewed from rotten Black Nettle Leaf.

Old friend, until we meet again.

Andre"

The handwriting grew more and more scrawled in the final few lines, and the last stroke of the final character in "Andre" simply dragged out into a long smear of ink.

It was as if, by the time he wrote that far, his hand had lost all strength completely.

Ron folded the letter and put it back into the inner pocket at his chest.

He took a sip of the cold herbal tea. He had brewed it himself, and it did not taste very good.

"Reading that letter again?"

Aselia's