1 AM

The letter arrives via a rust-red owl that taps sharply in the window until Elixa lets it in. The address on it is unfamiliar, with words she's never seen before, but she doesn't need to read it when Arc's name is prominently written under Sender. Whilst she reads, the owl takes a sip or two from a dish of water as it has clearly made a long flight.

To: Elixa Mordent
277b, Diagon Alley
London, England

Hey Lix,

I'm writing this to let you know I won't be back this weekend.

When I decided to write this I felt that it might give you cause to worry even more, and that is not my intention with this letter. Not that I'll stop you from worrying - and thank you - but at least this might allay your fears.

My grandmother abruptly passed yesterday. We knew she'd been in poor health before but we didn't know how bad it really was - or, as my grandfather said, she didn't want us to worry about her. It goes without saying that it doesn't lessen the blow even so. I did get to see her before her passing but as they say, you don't realise how much you'll miss someone until you lose them.

I'll be staying in Greece for the week to remain for the funeral service. My grandparents are steadfastly Orthodox and would like us to be there. More importantly, I'm staying for my mother, who needs all of us in this time right now. I've already sent a letter to St Mungo's to let them know, but it would be disrespectful of me to not explain to you either. After all, you're taking care of Rustle. I know you'd do it in a heartbeat for me regardless but you deserve the explanation.

I'll be honest. Wrtiting this is a struggle right now. Don't feel like you're at fault for being notified -  I made this choice even though grief is making it real hard for me to think straight. I wish I had happier news, you know? I really do. I'm thankful I got to see her.

This is going to be so silly to say, but I also had to bid goodbye to a friend the night I arrived in Greece. The Corynthian eel living near the shore of the island I'm on has departed for deeper waters to find a mate. In the wake of a death it feels like the dumbest thing to feel sad about. I suppose having had to say farewell twice has done a number on my mood and thoughts on mortality.

Anyway, before I start rambling about things I'm going to end the letter here. I can't stop thinking about everyone back in England, is all. You're the only one getting this letter. I don't think I could write this all over again for other people. It would be too much for me right now.

I'll see you May 27th. Take care, and we'll be able to talk later.