Jorgen-24

"Where is he? Where is he?" Crecyda said. "I didn't see him." She pinched Jorgen's sleeve, revealing tiny scars from the cold wind on her knuckles, with the tail of her headscarf resting on her right clavicle. Jorgen was supposed to send her off to sea, so a small boat was moored on the beach under the cover of night, with waves brushing against the patterns on the oars, emitting streaks of blue light. The ocean was both generous and brutal, capable of cradling the small boat on its surface or capsizing it into its dark depths at any moment. This woman faced danger, and to survive, she had to confront it first. Jorgen had reminded her countless times to prepare herself mentally, but there was always something else on her mind.

"He's not here now, Crecyda. I can't bring him to bid you farewell; the risk is too great. You'll spend two days at sea, and after that, when you reach the shore, you'll see him. That's all I can say. Time is of the essence; you need to board the ship quickly. My men will protect you."

Crecyda didn't speak anymore and released her grip on Jorgen's sleeve. In his words, there was a half-truth: "I can't bring him to bid you farewell." "Can't" actually meant "unable to," and it wasn't because of the risk factor. By phrasing it ambiguously, Jorgen made it difficult for Crecyda to confirm if he was lying. She then took the hand offered by a retainer and boarded the ship, sitting down and turning her head away. Jorgen didn't watch her boat leave the shore.

That was three days ago. Now, Jorgen and his men were waiting on the western coast of Stromgarde for a whole day. They hadn't found any trace of Crecyda or the small boat. Jorgen couldn't wait too long; firstly, because he needed to return to Stormwind as soon as possible, and secondly, because most of his men didn't know the reason for rescuing that woman. Jorgen thought that if Elin were here, he could come up with a reason that would make everyone willingly wait without arousing suspicion or simply divert their attention. Unfortunately, he wasn't present.

Before leaving Stromgarde, Jorgen had one final meeting with Prince Galin, but Galin's attitude showed no signs of compromise. In such a situation, Jorgen could only accept it proactively. Repeatedly emphasizing the importance of taking Lawrence and the subject away from Galin would only be counterproductive, making Galin think he had the upper hand. Jorgen didn't think his mission had failed, but the only achievement actually came from Tony – he discovered Lawrence's betrayal, undermining everyone's trust in him, forcing Galin to agree to temporarily suspend the research plan. The extensive, fruitless discussions between Jorgen and Galin only made Galin more vigilant about future matters. Jorgen planned to assist Mardias's work upon returning, quickly dismantling the part of the plan outside Stromgarde. One day, Galin would realize he had been deceived, but for now, there was no need to consider how to deal with such a situation.

If one were to seek reasons, Jorgen believed that the public execution he arranged had somehow provoked Galin. At the time, he saw Galin pick up a piece of wood and toss it into the fire, his eyes showing a mysterious and negative calm, like a sail that had never been raised. Jorgen knew some things about Galin's mother. Perhaps at that moment, Galin just wanted to watch such an execution; who was burned didn't matter. Perhaps he knew that the body in the flames wasn't Crecyda, but out of a ruler's dignity, he didn't intend to point out that someone had deceived him in such a complex way. Instead, he sought revenge afterward through more covert and practical means, breaking his promises. Of course, these speculations were meaningless to Jorgen now.

Jorgen heard footsteps approaching from the left. Tony was coming towards him. Jorgen had considered leaving Tony in Arathi Highlands to continue surveillance work, but later he felt that letting a double agent act independently for too long might not be a wise choice. Moreover, someone who could readily betray his father was always unpredictable. He needed to bring Tony back into the environment of the Seven and see if he had the potential for further use.

"Lord Jorgen," Tony said, "I have made some discoveries. Perhaps you'd like to take a look."

Jorgen and Tony walked a short distance until they saw a body lying on the black mudflat.

"Just washed ashore. Likely the work of pirates."

Jorgen didn't respond to Tony's words but crouched down to inspect. The deceased was one of the men he had ordered to protect Crecyda at sea. He had two arrow wounds, one in the right chest and the other in the side abdomen. One arrow was missing, while the other was broken in half. The arrow wounds alone weren't immediately fatal; perhaps he died while trying to swim ashore with his injuries. Jorgen rummaged through the corpse's pockets, finding some tools, four silver coins, and a brass nameplate.

Tony was right; he was likely killed by pirates. It wasn't for robbery or any other specific purpose because the small boat he and Crecyda were on wouldn't attract much interest from pirates. Perhaps it was just a pirate on deck who suddenly spotted a boat nearby and decided to let off some steam by shooting a couple of arrows. But there could be other possibilities.

Jorgen grasped the dead man's nameplate and stood up. "No other findings?"

"Sorry, none," Tony said. "I've searched the entire coastline around here. No traces of any boats."

Jorgen nodded. Perhaps the small boat sank, or perhaps the pirates took it, along with the people left on it. Either way, the only fact was that it hadn't reached the shore.

"Go back," Jorgen said. "There's no need to wait any longer. We must return to Stormwind as soon as possible."

"But what about him?"

"I can't bring him back. You go bury him nearby. Remember to strip off his clothes, leave nothing that might reveal his identity, then return to the camp immediately. We need to hit the road."

"Yes, Lord Jorgen."

Jorgen turned and walked back. He could hear Tony dragging the body behind him. So he had another lie to fabricate: how this retainer had died due to something unrelated to the mission.

When they reached near the camp, Jorgen saw Glocara waiting for him. She stood with her arms crossed, head slightly tilted to the right, biting the edge of her lower lip, probing him with an unsettled gaze.

"Still no sign of Crecyda?" she said.

"No."

"What do we do then?"

Jorgen could see genuine concern in Glocara's expression, even though they had only met once.

"We're going back," he said.

"Back? Why?"

"There's no more time to wait. We need to return to Stormwind."

"But she hasn't arrived yet..."

"We've done all we can. If this is the situation, then there's no other way. I didn't come here for her."

"You can't do this, Jorgen. She must be close. Things at sea are unpredictable and often delayed. If she reaches the shore and finds us gone, how can that be?"

"It's been a full day past the deadline."

"Just a day, only a day."

"Listen, Glocara. I'm not obligated to argue with you about this. I never needed to bring you and her out in the first place. In fact, these unnecessary actions prevented me from achieving my goals, so I'm not in a good mood now. I don't know if you genuinely care about that woman's life or if you're here to cause trouble over Tusha's matter. Either way, I don't have time to waste with you. If you don't want to leave with us, stay here and wait for her. I won't stop you."

"You dare mention Tusha's matter. You left him there as a hostage..."

Jorgen slapped Glocara across the left cheek. Glocara abruptly held her breath, pressing the back of her hand against her cheek, staring at the ground.

"You don't understand what responsibility means," Jorgen said. "You can speak up for whoever you want, but don't ignorantly criticize my work, Glocara. This is the bottom line. Tusha is an enemy of the Seven. If you were any official figure, you would have already made a grave mistake that would give me reason to throw you into the dungeon. Of course, I could do that to ordinary people as well, but for now, I just want you to shut up. This is not only the greatest concession but also the last one. From now on, if you have something to discuss with me, you must inform my subordinates first. When we return to Stormwind, I'll arrange a job for you. Whether you accept it or not is up to you, but after that, we no longer have any personal relationship. Understand?"

"What... do you want me to answer?"

"I'm asking if you understood what I just said. I don't want to repeat myself."

Glocara slowly lowered her hand, looking into Jorgen's eyes, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. "I remember... when you told me what happened in Idoli, you swore it was true, making me believe you. Now you say our rescue was unnecessary, that we hindered you, I don't believe it unless you swear again. Swear it, Jorgen. You made me plant Crecyda's hair on the body, gave her a boat, deceived a king; these all hindered you. Swear it now, to the heavens or whatever else."

Jorgen's right hand rose again, but only halfway, as if uncertain of what to do.

"Do you still want to hit me? It's okay, hit me however you like. But I want you to swear that the people you saved were unnecessary. You said it once just now, what's so hard about adding another oath? Five years ago, you could do it, why can't you now, five years later? What have you been doing these five years?"

Jorgen suddenly grabbed Glocara's wrist, leaning in close, staring into her eyes.

"Yes, I understand, sir," those are the only words you should say, anything else is unnecessary. You don't know how many people suffer for saying the wrong thing. Today I can forgive your offense, but it won't happen again."

Jorgen released Glocara's hand and didn't see her final reaction as he quickened his pace towards the camp. Swearing was worthless. No matter what oath was made, it was merely a reminder of what one should do but hadn't. When he looked into Glocara's eyes just now, he didn't just see her alone. Her anger and urgency were actually rooted in trust that she wouldn't be betrayed. Such eyes reminded Jorgen of many things. He didn't want to linger by the sea too long, because the boundless waters would also evoke some memories. The white ash scattered on the surface. Her beneath the water. Now, a boat that would never appear again.

He felt tired. He was going back. Behind him, Glocara clenched the edge of her skirt tightly with her right hand, gazing out at the vast sea.