Connor
We have spent the whole night floating on the open seas. The three of us switched turns from napping and trawling and retrieving the net. Yet, the old man didn't sleep nor rest. He continued to do his jobs tirelessly, while the three of us were beaten down one by one from tiredness and sea-sickness.
It is dusk when we return back to Lindow's piers. Lindow are enveloped with thick fogs. The previously empty boats are seen returning with a heavy load of fish on them from tonight work. Our boat is included in them.
Having been doing this thing for many years, the crews on other boats unload their harvests from their boats to the piers so quick and easy as breathing. Within an hour, all of them have finished, leaving only us left who are still in halfway to go.
"Ah, you three have been very helpful to me. It's very nice to have some nice helping hands," the old man says between his panting breath, tired from moving things and that. "Sorry I don't have anything else to offer you as my token of gratitude."
"Letting us stay at your place is already enough sir. More than enough." Castille replies to him.
"No need to be so humble son. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know."
It took another hour for us to finished all the works. Sun has not risen yet, but the old man informs us that this is the time for fishermen to rest and sleep before their next harvest later that night.
Along with the old man who invited us to his shack, we departs from the piers, all looking fatigued. As we ascend on the stairs, we heard a slow clapping, more like a mock clapping.
We look up, to find there is a tall man with a slight beard on his chin and his pointing lips and squinting sly eyes are suggesting that he is ready to blabber a mouthful of words.
"Well, well, well.. You got some nice helpers this time, Mr Peyton?" he asks rather cynically. "How are you going to pay them this time?"
The old man, now we knew his name, steps forward to face him. His pleading smile is shown.
"Emm..." His voice is weak and shaky as if afraid, "G-Good morning Mr Fulke. I-I promise I will pay them by this week."
"You've been saying the same things for two months, old man." His voice becomes colder and crueler as he spats the next words. "Don't make me lose my patience."
"S-Sorry. Y-You see, I got them to help me. This time, I definitely wi--"
Innocently, Fulke kicks Peyton right in the stomach, staggering him to fall backwards. Lucky we managed to hold him before he hit the wooden planks.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" I yell angrily at Fulke. "He's just a poor elder!"
"And who do you think you are, huh? Insolent brats."
Within a slight finger snapping in the air, four knights clad in steel armor appear beside him.
"Oh, you brats are from the ASAC? Ha! Did they sent you here to help a stupid old man with his debts? What a waste of time."
He turns his back. "I'm going to hold your old shack as a warranty, Peyton. If you don't pay them by the end of this week, then I'm going to have it sealed as your payments." he slightly turns his head. "Even that old shack isn't worth anything of your debts."
"Let's go."
Another finger snap and they left the area, as fogs envelops them whole.
"What's the matter with them?" Anto asks. He looks irritated as Castille do. I can't help but also become angry myself.
YOU ARE READING
Rise From The Ashes
De TodoSequel of Into The Fire A year have passed since Jason left Ashenville School of Arcane and Chivalry and most of his friends have decided to move on with their life, albeit still hoping to meet him again someday. Until the Order of the Tenth has beg...
