Undying Will - 176 Fishman island

A roar echoed through the air as the drunken fishman slugged the shadow of the man that had threatened the child.

The loud and outspoken mob bellowed racing forward as if a fire was lit under them, glaring bloody murder at the man as they reached for pieces of weaponry. Some held broken bottles, others held broken mops.

Terrick stared them down, still impassive as he held the shivering life of the angry child in his hands. His curved knives digging slightly into the child’s collar.

A sigh slowly sounded out, followed then by a pure and overpowering wave of presence. Lorean had released his Conqueror’s Haki.

As if summoned, Terrick’s own Haki rose up paling in comparison and much more uncontrolled. Nonetheless, within seconds the world grew silent, with the different fishman all falling down on their faces.

The last to fall was the child in Terrick’s hands, a furnace of rage in his glassy eyes as he stared at the ship with a vitriol that could drown the vessel.

Terrick held on still, his knife digging slightly deeper into the child as he gazed sharply at his captain. All it would take was a single order, and the child would be dead.

Lorean only waved his hands mutely. There was no reason to go ahead with the action his respect for Whitebeard would not allow him to sanction Terrick’s actions.

With a curt nod Terrick dropped the child like a sack of bricks, leaping onto the ship nimbly. Angella stared at him, equal measures reproach and disgust in her eyes. Lorean only sighed a little going back to the stern of the deck to keep his vigil.

Within the suddenly silent and morose night, Terrick could hear his steps thudding softly against the wooden stairs as he walked below deck.

An aggressive hand clutched at his shoulders yanking him around. It was Angella.

“You were really planning on killing that child?” she growled out, her eyes spitting fire at him. If it was a regular fishman, she would have been a little uncomfortable. The fact that it was a child however, exacerbated her feelings in the situation a lot more.

Terrick merely nodded, standing silently in the hallway.

“Why?” she demanded softly.

“He attacked the captain.” was all his answer was.

“The attack would have done nothing! The child could not have possibly hurt Lore!” she snapped.

“So? The fact remains that a no-name child attempted to attack our captain. After we drank from his cup, he pretty much became our big brother! It does not matter that it was a child.” he snarled in return, his expressionless face turning slightly haunted as scenes of conflict entered his mind.

A sparkle of light. Unimaginable pain. A fallen figure, and blood covering his sight.

With a look of contemplation, she turned around. In her mind the problem had been expanded. Did she have the resolution to cut down anyone that stood to harm her family?

Only time would tell.

*****

Laurel frowned at the eerie and soulless confines of the harbour. Usually at this time sailors would be making merry, locals would be meeting each other and the street ruffians would be making a fool of themselves.

Yet, here there was not a whit of the usual hubub. As she edged closer to the new arrivals she began to smell the pungent scent of spilled alcohol mixed with what she assumed to be piss.

This was the outskirts of the water port, the only ones docked here were the newer vessels, those that did not particularly want to be under the close watch of the city guard.

As she drew further she sensed her contemporary tense up, with a small quirk of his head he shot her a look telling her that he would be going to check something.

With a soundless woosh he disappeared forward vanishing into the purplish haze of the underwater island.

Laurel was right behind him, walking forward briskly. Within a few moments she came across her first body, it was an older more pudgy looking fishman with a crutch beside him. It was evident that he had been crippled a while back, what with the weird chip on his legs.

She gazed slightly affronted, kneeling beside him to check for a breath. She breathed a small sigh of relief as she felt his chest moving.

A small gargle sounded from him as she tapped at him, with a small fit he began to awaken, coughing and huffing as he did.

“Demons… Child murders the lot of them…” he muttered silently as he began to reach for the crutch at the side.

he breathed deeply, his eyes coasting over her as fear clouded them.

With a worried glance, she looked further forward, her hopes immediately dashed by another body further also moving around slightly.

She rose to her feet marching forward gazing down worriedly at her downed compatriots. In the distance a solitary ship bobbed up and down morosely. Around it was the highest concentration of bodies.

She glared at it, marching forward, then she stopped as if beaten. For on the stern Fawkes stood gazing down at the figures imperiously. She had seen that look before, gazing down at everyone with disdain.

She could not believe it. This was the man that had helped her burry the old prankster, now he stood at what could only be the cause for her people’s suffering.

She growled darkly, gazing at him. Then she turned around to storm out of the harbour.

A small pulse seemed to thrum out from the ship, forcing the waking folk back down, and that was the straw that broke the camels back.

She could only curse her own short-sightedness and naivety for trusting a man that she had just met.

With a small growl she pulled out her lyre once more and began to play.