Knight Of Pensylon: Rise Of The Cavalier
Chapter 12 - The Holes

It's quiet, the mood tonight. The moon does not appear to be covered by clouds, it is only natural because it is raining now just like last night. Do not forget the smell of oil that has been smelled since this morning.

The difference is, this time I was sitting in my family stables whose door was still a bit broken. Accompanied by some rats who don't know where, but I do know where it is.

In a land about six feet long and the same width. With a floor made of wooden planks and covered with some straw.

Hugging the black four-legged creature in front of me, crying, sobbing. Lamenting his departure which will come when the sun rises later.

"Hiks... Sorry Spirit.." I said.

When I hugged the dark horse, I recalled everything I had done with it.

Starting from the moment he kicked a thief in the market, when he went berserk because I didn't want to bathe, to the most vulnerable, when I rode him to race horses with other friends.

I can't believe all those wonderful memories will be exchanged for just 2000 graft tomorrow. If it is sold, what if it is not?

I can't imagine how small the price of this horse is considering my father is not at all talented in trading.

"Hiks... Norman, Victoria, what should I do..."

I honestly know that it's useless to say those words.

I mean, Victoria I don't even want to be friends with me anymore.

Norman's? Needless to say, I was lazy to repeat the same answer...

"Christopher..."

That sound.

Scroll my gaze toward the broken stables door, finding someone who was no stranger to me at all.

A man who despite his age is almost five heads, but his body is quite fresh fit stocky for someone whose life seems to be getting closer to the Soul of Pensylon.

Scroll for a while, before looking back at Spirit.

Still with the same look I can't describe. He did not look angry, sad, or disappointed. I don't even know what's on his mind.

"Go, can't you see I'm sad?" reply kicked him.

Tep. Tep. Tep.

Instead of leaving, the old man walked over. Still with that horrible look.

"Didn't I tell you to go?! Go!" myrag.

Greb!

This guy is holding my shoulder. As always, if he does that, he wants to advise me. I myself am ready to be advised. I've thought about the thousands of tips he's going to tell me, and I've thought about the millions of refutations I'm going to throw at him.

"What's up?!" I asked, ready to answer again if he-she

"You okay?"

Huh huh?

"Huh?"

I'm confused, honestly. Of the many sentences that I thought would come out of his mouth, this question was completely absent in my mind.

My father was hard to guess, I think this is why I fell in love with this guy.

"Really, are you okay?" ask him again.

As usual, I don't know what the old man's mind is. I've explained it before, so I won't repeat my explanation.

"L-yes." I replied nervously.

"Is that so? You don't look okay with those tears in your eyes." Dad pointed at my eyes.

Reflexively, I rubbed my eyes. Letting the shabby clothes on this body absorb the water that was in my eyes. Ah, yes. I just remembered that rubbing my eyes when it was wet it hurt a little.

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm fine!"

I can't believe I'm still saying it with a stream of tears that might already be able to make a full bowl.

Father himself smiled, with a small chuckle. Before he says, "Then can you explain why you hit our table to the ground?"

The words that instantly made me silent. Quiet because I didn't think the rickety table would collapse when I hit it.

Okay I admit, our table is far from decent. One of his legs had even been broken, before Mom had smartly made him stick back with egg whites.

Not to forget also the table has become a world paradise for termites that gnaw on the inside of the wood. More or less the same as my bedroom closet, or rather all the furniture in this house made of wood.

Why don't we buy a new one? Actually we would have changed it, if only we hadn't been robbed this afternoon.

Simply put, because we don't have any money.

If only he knew that I didn't know why I was doing this stupid thing. Or did he already know?

Just one question from his mouth was enough to make me regret what I just did. His tone did not go up in the slightest, it could even be said to go down.

This guy is really terrible.

"Can't answer, Christopher Hamilton?"

I die of lice, fixated on my legs, my mouth locked, my chest begins to ache beaten from the inside, water running from my forehead.

This guy must be mad at me, damn how he reveals it is very horrifying. When my mother vented her with a shout, my father remained calm.

It was his calmness that actually made me feel afraid of Dad when he was angry.

"I.." I said before turning silent.

It took me a long time to answer the question, before I finally gave myself the answer:

"Spirit."

Dad was still with the same gaze, talking back...

"Let me conclude this, you hit our dinner table to pieces, demeaned your own mother, and messed up our family dinner, just because of Spirit?"

Justjust? Even dad also said 'Only'?! Enough already!

"YOU'RE BIL-ONLY"

Hmph!

Dad shut me up, apparently he knew I was going to say that.

"I guessed it." he said.

He released his mouth on my mouth. Before his own mouth spoke again.

"You're afraid of losing, aren't you? Christopher?" said it.

Huh huh? What is this guy talking about?

"Huh?"

"You sobbed to the point of messing up our family dinner when you heard we were going to sell Spirit.

You were also racing horses in the hope that Norman would stay in Wheatville.

Lastly, who can forget your grief when Thunder died?" inexplicably.

Ah yes, I never forgot about Thunder. A horse as precious as Spirit in my eyes. It is a pity that the horse had to die first because of illness.

"All your grief, and all the things you've done that long, have been enough to prove that you're indeed afraid of losing someone."

"Why should I be afraid of losing? Isn't that human?"

"Indeed, but..." Dad lowered his hand from my shoulder. Then he swung his head to his right, as if to tell

"Follow me, Christopher."

When I thought he was going to take me outside of Istal, he fell silent in the corner of Spirit's horse room.

"What are you doing, Dad?" my many.

Dad bent his legs all the way down to the squatting position, and he started to get rid of the straw that was where he was squatting.

That's when I realized it. The floor where my father was crouching was hiding something.

A hatch, which is covered by several pieces of wood that form a rectangle.

"Come here, Christopher." said my father.

Strangely enough, my soul was completely unwilling to get close to that man. But somehow my feet moved by themselves towards where he was squatting now.

Then after that, I suddenly crouched down right next to my father. The smell of sweat still smelled from his body, mixed with a slight smell of soil (literally, not figuratively)

"Behind this hatch, there's gonna be something that I hope will make you understand..."

Kriet's!

Dad opened the box I could tell you the hatch door was. Behind that small door, my eyes could see what was inside.

"Huh?"

...****************...