Virgil sat at his chair, running a stone up and down his sword. It had originally been to sharpen it - to give whoever had taken Aaron a taste of their own damn medicine - but the motion had turned listless.

He'd ruin his sword if he kept up like this. And it was by far his best to date.

Virgil set the stone down on his desk with an annoyed sigh. He slid the sword back into its scabbard and leaned back in his chair. He slouched down so his back was halfway down the chair and his legs were splayed out across the floor.

Lord, he was tired. He'd been chasing this for years and now... Now everything was messed up.

Virgil pushed himself up straight and dragged his chair back under his desk. He moved the stone to where it balanced precariously on the edge of the desk. Picking up his compass, he pulled a map forward.

It was a simple map of the region, with Gyria to one side and Amorcen to the other. Right in the middle was a tiny little island - probably a mislaid speck of ink. That would be where the first task would be.

That much Virgil knew from half-drunk tales told in pubs and widower women, half-crazy with grief. That tiny, insignificant speck in the middle of the map was what he'd killed, maimed, threatened and wasted 5 years of his life for.

Dear Lord, it better be worth it.

"Everlasting youth, Virgil," he reminded himself. "Everlasting stamina and years to perfect skills! Imagine it," a small smile graced his features, "the Captain's Chaos and her crew - immortal. Forever feared, never killed."

He'd never lose anyone ever again.

The Fountain of Youth. The Fountain of Youth!

Promises of everlasting beauty, everlasting youth, everlasting opportunities drew most to the fountain. But a life of no fear, no anxiety, never having to worry about everyone you cared about because they'd never die... That drew Virgil to it.

Never having to worry about Janus and Daniel's stupid pride getting them killed again. Never having to worry about Remus' self-image. Never having to worry about Aaron falling in with a worse lot than his crew. Never having to worry about Patton's reckless behaviour.

That was the dream, wasn't it? Keep his friends - his family - around him forever, never growing old. Never growing weak. Never leaving him through anything other than choice.

Virgil blinked and looked back down at the map. That was Gyria's Southern coast. And that tiny blot of an island would take at least a month to sail to, weather permitting.

They were headed for the Western coast. The time it would take them to sail round the coast line (factoring in any stops for trading and general piracy) would increase by... days. Weeks. How long exactly?

Virgil stared down at the map, frowning. Numbers danced around his head meaninglessly. If there was one thing he was not, it was a mathematician.

The clock by his bed chimed, drawing him away from his maps. Seven o'clock already? Time for swap over.

Virgil stood up out of his chair. He glanced at himself briefly in his mirror, pulling his cuffs down around his wrists. He smoothed down his hair and then paused and ruffled his fringe. Sure, he wanted to look like he wasn't having a very slow mental breakdown but he couldn't look too perfect.

Taking a breath, he threw his door open.

"Change over!" He called. "Ax, go wake the dead ones."

He didn't know where 'dead ones' had come from in reference to the poor sods stuck with night shift but it fit them rather well.

Everyone started hurrying to get down below deck and sleep. Virgil noticed that Janus stayed at the wheel.

"Janus!" He said, bounding up the stairs. "Change over."

"I'd like to stay behind the wheel, if that's alright, Captain," Janus said. He wasn't meeting Virgil's eyes. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

"You're not breaking apart your sleep schedule just cos I yelled at you," he said. "I yell at everyone. Go get your beauty sleep, you need it."

Janus laughed in surprise but shook his head. Virgil crossed his arms.

"Perhaps I'm not making myself clear enough. Go get some rest," he insisted. "That's an order."

Janus sighed but let go of the wheel. "Yes, Captain," he muttered.

"Besides, Remus will be missing you." Janus flushed and opened his mouth to retort but Virgil interrupted. "I can take it from here. Go on."

Clearly unable to think up a reason for why he should stay, Janus left hesitantly as Virgil took the wheel.

His family. His stupid, stupid family.

We gettin' inside Virge's head now
Bye,
Blaize