Golden Waters

Chapter 8

Written by: Toasy
Edited by: Fench 
Chapter 8

Heyooo! How are you all? I hope well :3 

Anyway, I don't really have anything to say so ON WITH THE CHAPTER 

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The storm came in hard but went out fast. Within two hours it was gone, the fast winds that had blown the ship around pulling away as fast as it came. Finally the rain slowed from a relentless downpour to nothing but a sprinkle. The ominous black cloud that towered up into the sky was now on the horizon behind them, hopefully being carried away. 

Archer finally peels his hands from the helm, for the first time all afternoon, his joints screaming in protest. He grunts as he flexes his sore fingers, the pads of his hands rubbed raw and covered in splinters. He grimaces, wiping blood away on his red trousers. 

He finds Narina's eyes and exchanges a look. She nods and bounds up to meet him, taking the wheel from him. He moves down the stairs, careful not to slip on the soaking wet wood. The crew are trying to clean the aftermath of the storm, barrels and ropes and other equipment are strewn around the deck. Some work to put the sails back up and some repair any damage that may have been caused to the old but reliable wood. 

Suddenly, sounds of commotion reach his ears from the bow of the boat. Archer hurries over, curious as to what's happening. A group of people are circling around something, or someone. Concerned and confused voices are hushed once they turn to see their soaked captain rushing towards them. 

"What's going on?" Archer demands, not waiting for any answer before pushing through the ring of his crew. What he finds in the middle makes his heart drop to his feet. 

Seàn lay on his stomach, his arms and legs splayed around him. His stunning green eyes are closed and his red hair plastered to his face. But the thing that makes Archer weak at the knees is the nasty gash in his temple, leaking blood down his cheek and dripping onto the deck. 

"What happened here?" Archer roars, turning to his crew. They all cower slightly at his tone, none willing to be on the receiving end of his wrath. 

"H-he just fell over sir. We think he may have gotten hit with something during the storm but he just…I guess he didn't say anything. He looked fine before and then he just…" A woman to Archer's left reports, her voice wavering. His anger dissipates at the explanation. So it wasn't an attack…

But soon his anger was replaced by fear. He turns and crouches down next to his friend, checking for breathing. Oh thank God he is…

"What are you doing standing there?! Go get Vallora!" He yells at the crowd, his voice betraying him and revealing his inner panic. A few people break off from the back of the three person deep semi-circle and sprint below deck. 

Archer turns his attention back to his best friend, his mentor. Biting his inner cheek he shakes the older man, blinking rapidly to prevent the onslaught of tears. It'll be okay. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay. He repeats to himself over and over like a mantra. 

"Seàn…Seàn please wake up. C'mon you old man, stop sleeping on the job. Get up. Seàn, get up! Please get up!" He pleads, not knowing what to do. 

"Get out of the way! Sweety, I love you, but MOVE!" A fierce Irish voice sounds from behind him and relief floods through his body. Vallora appears beside him, her hands quickly and expertly moving about Seàn's body, checking various things. 

"We need to move him into the infirmary. Immediately." She says, her voice uncharacteristically hard and authoritative. She begins to get up and Archer moves to put his hands under Seàn's arms. A few crew members appear at his legs, and together they hoist the tall man up and begin to move under deck.