Book 2 Chapter 5

In the coastal town of Bragg, the sea had turned cold and cruel. Each day, fewer fish were caught, and each return from the water carried with it the weight of disappointment. Among the weary fishermen was Davross Wescott, guiding his small boat into the dock with practiced hands.

He was the latest in a long line of fishermen. Just a year ago, he had celebrated his eighteenth birthday, but that same year, his father succumbed to illness. Now, with his mother bedridden from a lingering sickness and a sister too young to help, the burden of feeding the family had fallen squarely on his shoulders. After tying off his vessel, Davross climbed onto the dock, where the Wharf Master was already approaching to count the day’s catch.

“How did you fare, young Wescott?” asked Wharf Master Regis, eyes already scanning the empty space in the hull.

Davross sighed and glanced around. “It gets harder every day to meet your quota. I only caught about a quarter of what I should have.”

“A quarter?” Regis frowned deeply. “If your father were still around, he’d have made damn sure he didn’t come back until his hold was full!”

“Well, he’s not,” Davross snapped, then steadied his voice. “I went as far as Roth Island. This is all I caught.” He motioned toward the other returning boats. “Everyone’s struggling, sir. No one’s had a good haul in weeks.”

Regis grunted and spat on the dock, just missing Davross’ boot. “Stop making excuses. You’re not your father, and it shows. Let’s weigh what you’ve got.” He waved a hand, and a pair of dockworkers stepped forward to unload the catch. “I’m adding a ten percent cut,” Regis added curtly.

“Five percent to cover my workers,” Regis said as the whitefish were weighed and counted. “And another five for coming in short.” He glanced sideways at Davross, lips curling into a sneer. “Maybe fishing isn’t for you, boy. Then again, your mother’s single now.” He tugged at his trousers suggestively. “Might pay her a visit next time you disappoint me.”

Davross’s eyes flared with fury. He grabbed Regis by the collar and yanked him forward. “If you even breathe near her, I’ll beat you into the sea.”

Regis shoved him off with a snarl. “You ungrateful little bastard. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

He turned to the dockhands. “Teach him a lesson.”

Before Davross could react, fists and boots flew. He went down under the weight of blows, curling up to protect his head and ribs. The pain came sharp and fast, but he refused to scream.

Eventually, the beating stopped. Regis tossed a few coins onto his bloodied shirt.

“There’s a little extra for your mum,” he said coldly. “Try that again and you’ll go down with your boat.” With that, he turned and walked away, his men trailing behind.

Davross lay still for a moment, catching his breath, then slowly gathered the coins. His face was bruised, lip bleeding, one eye already swelling shut. “I’ll get him,” he muttered, wincing as he rose to his feet. He limped home, each step echoing with rage and humiliation. When he arrived, the small house smelled of something warm and familiar. His mother, Sina Wescott, was leaning against the stove, stirring a pot with slow, tired motions.

“Hello, Davross,” she said, her voice faint but kind. “How was your day?”

Once, she had long, beautiful brown hair that fell to the middle of her back. That was before the illness. Now, her hair was thinning, hidden beneath a faded bandana. The coughing, once occasional, had become constant. And now, she could feel the lumps forming beneath her skin.

Davross forced a smile through the pain. “The usual,” he said. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

At the kitchen table sat Sina’s other child, Davross’s younger sister, Missy. “Was the ocean good to you today, Davy?” she asked, her voice full of innocent hope.

Davross shook his head as he took a seat. “Unfortunately, no. The ocean wasn’t kind today.” He rubbed his jaw. “I only caught about a quarter of what I needed. Regis wasn’t exactly gentle about it either.”

Sina sighed from the stove. “You need to just leave Regis be. Your father used to ignore him, you should too.” She ladled some soup into a bowl and brought it to the table. “What happened to your face?”

Davross placed the few coins he had earned onto the table. “Regis said he was giving a little extra... for you, Mom.” He blew on a spoonful of soup before taking a sip. “He said he might pay you a visit. I wasn’t going to let him talk about you like that.”

Sina smiled softly. “You’re a good son, Davross. But with your father gone, you’ve got to learn, sometimes you need to keep your head down.” She came over, doing her best to hide the trembling in her limbs. She kissed his forehead gently. “Don’t worry. If Regis tries anything here, I’ll shove my foot so far up his rear he’ll cough up my boot.”

Davross laughed quietly.

Sina sat down with a groan, the effort of cooking having worn her out. “Like your father used to say, ‘With a roof over our heads.. ’”

Missy jumped up and mimicked their father’s deep, gravelly voice. “ As long as there’s good food in our tummies.” she said, rubbing her belly the way he always had.

Davross chuckled. “And the will to better yourself.”

“Then you can do great things!” the three of them said in unison. They all smiled. Remembering Herbert brought warmth and ache in equal measure. The evening wore on, and before long, Missy was tucked into bed.

"I'm going out for a walk, Mom. Go get some rest," Davross said, waving as he stepped out into the night.

A brisk chill came off the water, the air tinged with salt and sorrow. Davross walked back toward the docks, paths he had traveled a thousand times beside his father. Somehow, this place still held his father's presence more than anywhere else. "I miss you, Dad," he whispered. "If you're looking down on us... we could use some help." He approached his boat and rested a hand on its side. "I guess you know Regis still has an eye for Mom. I wish I could get us out of here... give Missy and mom a better life." His voice trailed off, lost in the crashing tide of his thoughts.

"Excuse me, my child."

Davross flinched, startled by the sudden voice. "Goodness, I didn’t see you there," he said, turning toward the sound.

A man stepped out from the shadows, clad in tattered priest robes. A deep hood shrouded much of his face, only the hint of a beard and tired eyes visible beneath. "Forgive me. I did not mean to startle you," the man said. "My name is Father Orion. I’ve been on a long journey and only just arrived in town."

"No need to apologize. I’m Davross. I was just... lost in thought," he replied, straightening a little. His parents had raised him to always show respect to members of the church.

Orion stepped closer, his gaze gentle yet probing. "I’ve spent many days traveling the countryside, offering aid to the lost and the wayward. Forgive me, but when I saw you walk here, I felt compelled to speak. You're in great need of help, aren’t you?"

Davross hesitated, taken aback by the man's insight. "Yes... I was just praying to my father, actually."

Orion looked around, the quiet lapping of the water the only sound between them. "It is only us here, child. Is your father no longer among the living?"

Davross nodded. "My father died last year. Illness came over him all of a sudden," he said quietly. "One day, he started complaining that his stomach hurt... and by the end of the week, he was gone. The healers said it was some kind of infection. Honestly, I don’t know what to believe."

Orion inclined his head. "What do you need help with, Davross?"

"The fishing’s been rough. Fewer fish means less money, and I’ve got people at home depending on me." Davross glanced back at his boat. "I’m afraid... pretty soon, there won’t be any fish left at all."

"Is that all that troubles you?" Orion asked, his voice calm.

Davross hesitated. He looked around, making sure no one else was nearby. "There’s something else, Father. The Wharf Master, Regis, he’s always had an eye on my mother. And now that my father is gone..."

Orion interrupted, his voice sharp. "It is a sin to lust after another man’s wife. Even in death, the bonds of mourning deserve respect." His gaze drifted toward the town. "Where does this Wharf Master Regis reside?"

Davross’s eyes widened. "If Regis knew I told you anything, he’d bar me from docking. Please, Father Orion... forget I said anything." He took a step back. "Good luck on your journey."

"Do you believe in the Creator?" Orion asked.

The question stopped Davross in his tracks. "I might’ve once," he admitted. "But with everything, my father dying, my mother sick, no fish to catch... If the Creator’s real, we could sure use a miracle."

"I’ve trained in medicine," Orion offered. "If you’ll allow it, I can take a look at your mother. No payment necessary. I’m on a journey to help the wayward."

Davross studied him, uncertain. But something about Orion, his voice, his presence, felt right. Odd but still trustworthy. "It’s not too late. She should still be awake. Come on," Davross said.

Orion nodded and followed as Davross led him home.

"How long has your mother been sick? What symptoms has she shown?" Orion asked.

Davross scratched the back of his head as they walked. "She’s been sick for about three years now. It started as just a cough, but it's only gotten worse over time."

Orion remained quiet, listening closely.

"A few months ago, we started noticing lumps under her skin. They've been spreading," Davross added, his worry evident in his voice.

"I’ve read that, in some cases, the body begins turning against itself. Growths can form in the later stages. I hope I’m not too late," Orion said carefully, watching Davross for a reaction.

"You don’t sound very hopeful," Davross replied as they reached the door to his home. "Wait here. I’ll check if she’s still awake." He stepped inside. "Mom!" he called out.

Sina was lying on the floor in pain, clutching her leg.

"What happened?" Davross asked, rushing to her side.

Sina’s breathing was labored. "I tried to finish the dishes... then I tripped. I think I broke my leg," she said, tears streaking her cheeks.

"Perhaps I can help," Orion said gently from the doorway.

"Who is this, Davross?" Sina asked, wincing.

"This is Father Orion. He knows medicine," Davross explained. Then, looking at the priest, he added, "Please, help her."

Orion nodded and stepped inside. He knelt beside Sina, carefully examining her leg. "Your son told me this started with a cough. Is that right?"

Sina winced again as his hand brushed her injured leg. "Yes. I haven’t been able to get it to stop."

Orion looked over the masses that were on her arms and legs. " It looks like what I was telling your son earlier. What ever caused your cough has convinced your body to betray itself. Your body is trying to fight this illness but instead of helping, your body is making things worse."

"There must be something you can do." Davross said. Worried that he was going to lose another parent.

"Mommy?" Missy said from her bedroom doorway. The commotion had woken her up. "What's wrong?"

"Mommy is fine dear, I just tripped and hurt myself. This nice man is helping me." Sina said trying to comfort her child.

Missy rubbed her eyes as she came out. "What's your name mister?"

Orion smiled," My name is Father Orion. I will do my best to take care of your mother." Orion said. He looked over to Davross, he didn't say a word but his look gave the meaning.

Davross nodded in understanding and gently picked up his little sister. "Come on, let’s give Mom and Father Orion some time to talk. Let’s go for a walk."

"But I want to stay with Mom," Missy protested, her voice heavy with tired defiance.

Sina smiled softly. "I’ll be fine, Missy. Go with Davy. Let Father Orion and me speak for a bit."

Reluctantly, Missy stopped resisting and rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. Davross gave his mother a final glance before quietly closing the door behind them.

"That man doesn't smell good." Missy said after the door shut.

Davross shook his head, " We must not say things like that. Orion has been on a journey, instead of cleaning from the road, he decided to help mom."

A moment passed before Sina spoke, her voice fragile with desperation. "I’ve prayed every night for a cure. We just lost their father… I can’t leave them too. If there’s anything you can do to help me—please, I beg you."

"I can heal you," Orion said calmly. "But I’ll need something from you in return."

"Anything," Sina said quickly. "What is it? At this point, I’d trade anything for this to be over."