SCRATCH, SCRATCH, SCRATCH... The brush slid gently over the canvas as Charles, seated in the port district, painted the rows of ships docked at the pier.
Cargo transports to Hope Island had been halted. All produce from the agricultural districts was rapidly accumulating in the warehouses in preparation for the arrival of the Light God Sect's fleet.
"My fellow artist, from whom did you learn this style? Why have I never seen anything like it on the other islands?" an elderly voice inquired from behind him.
Charles turned to see the old man with a missing front tooth looking at him.
"It's you! You asked me to paint you and your wife before. I didn't realize you were an artist, too," the toothless old man said with easy familiarity.
Looking at the old man, Charles immediately recalled that this was the person who had sketched him and Lily. He forced a smile. "I haven't really studied. I just paint for fun."
