Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 19: The Alchemist

The magnificent creature stared at me with inhuman eyes in the last hints of daylight peeking over the western mountains.

Its white plumage was accentuated by black feathers on either side of its body. It stretched its wings and opened its long beak, revealing the inside of a tan-colored pouch.

The pelican and I blinked at each other, and I contemplated the repercussions of giving it some food. Its gaze strayed back down to the fish I held, and I gave it a rueful smile.

“I’m not sure how my friends would feel about me letting you have their dinner...”

The pelican stretched its head and puffed its pouch out, getting closer to the cichlid I held.

“Tell you what - if you can wait a little while I’ll let you have some leftovers. How does that sound?”

A croaking noise came from its throat as it took another step forward, lowering its head. It snapped its beak at me, and I dodged back, avoiding the sharp point on the end.

“Hey! That’s not very nice, mate.”

A blur of orange came from my left, and the raging form of Rocky scuttled at the pelican, his claws held high and a stream of angry bubbles spewing from his mouth. It took flight, its wings beating heavily to rise into the air. With a single glance back at the fish, it continued on, flapping toward the river mouth then angling south as it soared along the coastline.

“That was a dick move, Rocky.”

He made a snorting noise - which I wasn’t even aware a crab could do - then crossed his claws in defiance.

I recalled Snips having a visceral reaction to the seagulls when she was freshly awakened - perhaps rock crabs and birds were mortal enemies.

“Don’t chase the pelican away unless it’s in self defense, alright?”

He turned away, ignoring me, so I crouched down and plucked him from the sand. I turned him to face me.

“I mean it, mate. I know you’re technically Snips’ subordinate, and I find your independent nature rather endearing, but if you chase that pelican away again we’re gonna have problems.”

He squinted his eyes at me.

“And no killing the seagulls,” I added. “You can chase them, but no killing anything you don’t intend to eat. I won’t stand for sociopathic crabs. If you can’t agree to that, you can’t live here. That means no delicious food and no sharing a pond with your beloved Snips.”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, but under my steady glare, he eventually nodded, averting his eyes as he did so.

“Good lad.” I let him go and he scuttled sullenly back to the fire. Snips and I locked eyes from where she tended the flames. She gave me a subtle nod, and I returned it.

Rocky caught the interaction, so he spun toward me, giving me a decidedly rude gesture as he scuttled backward.

Crack.

The tongs Snips threw collided with Rocky and sent him sprawling in the sand. As he lay on his back, unmoving and accepting his fate, his eyes locked onto mine. He gave me the same gesture, but from where Snips couldn’t see, and I barked a laugh.

“Fair play..”

***

As I was removing the crab and fish from the grill, a lithe form came tearing across the sand.

Corporal Claws, eyes crinkled in delight and lips spread in a grin, launched herself at me. I dropped the tongs and caught her, spinning to absorb the force.

“Claws! We missed you today! Where have you been?”

She chirped her love at me and pointed back at the forest, answering my question.

“With the tree all day? Any news?”

She shook her head, but as she did so, her whiskers twitched forward and stayed there, betraying the truth.

“Nothing, huh?” I asked, hiding my smile. “Well, maybe the food you bring it tonight will garner some results.”

She climbed to my shoulder as I bent to grasp the tongs.

“I’ll tell you all about our progress on the wall today while we eat dinner.”

She nodded vigorously, then nuzzled into my neck, cooing with affection.

***

In a room filled with acrid smoke and the smell of sulfur, a lone man toiled.

He had long ago become accustomed to the scents, and though his throat still stung when breathing in the byproducts of his research, it was a small price to pay for immortality.

The alchemist focused on his cauldron as he smothered the flames beneath it. Today, he was seeing if the removal of heat impacted his concoction, and he watched the thick sludge as he swirled it around his pot.

This is the potion, he thought to himself. This is the one that will break me past the barrier and allow me to take steps toward the path of ascension.

For years he had hidden away in this coastal town, assigned the outpost by the leaders of the Cult of the Alchemist. Where some would take it as a slight to be sent to such a distant area, Solomon saw it in a different light: being sent to a coastal town afforded him all manner of exotic ingredients to experiment with.

For hundreds if not thousands of years, his forebears had tried and failed to reach immortality with the usual fare: common herbs; animal products, some from farmed animals, some harvested from the wild; and the local ingredients that could be found in the market of any large village. Having alchemists work to attain their goals in coastal villages was a relatively new assignment—a sign of what some members had called desperation.

“Call it what you like, fools. When I become the Alchemist, they’ll know the truth.” His voice was raspy even to his own ears, but that was just a sign of his devotion to his craft.

He chuckled as he continued stirring, watching the mixture intently for any changes. His dry chuckle turned into a racking cough as he leaned in too close and inhaled some of the acidic vapors wafting from his concoction.

He choked and sputtered and his eyes welled with tears, but the smile never left his face.

***

With my mouth watering, I cracked the claw of a sand crab. The smell of its sweet juices joined that of the herb-laced butter I’d coated it in, and a deep contentment washed over me.

All around me, my animal pals were crunching down on their food, and I couldn’t help but smile at the symphony of what most would probably consider to be repulsive sounds. To me, they were pure bliss.

I bit down into the crab’s soft flesh, delighting in the flavors that danced over my tongue. I’d tried not cracking the crab shells before tossing them in the buttery mixture this time, intent on seeing if trapping the juices in changes the flavor profile at all—it did. The sweet liquids trapped within the shell mingled in my mouth rather than in the pot, providing an entirely new experience.

A soft mmm escaped my throat, but my enjoyment was interrupted when someone cleared their throat behind me.

“I’m not too late, am I?”

Maria approached with the fuzzy form of Cinnamon cradled in her arms.

Quickly swallowing my food, I patted the sand beside me.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come tonight, but I saved dinner for you just in case.”

As she settled on the floor, I went to the fire and made up a plate of food. When I placed it on the sand before her, Maria’s eyes lit up.

“This is just what I needed after working the fields all day.”

I watched her as she lifted the plate. Steam rose from the food, visible by the light of the fire. She inhaled through her nose, breathing deep of the scents, and a smile slowly spread over her face.

“This smells wonderful, Fischer.”

I returned the smile.

“Wait until you taste it.”

She cracked a claw and raised it to her mouth. As she bit down, her shoulders dropped and she let out a content sigh.

“Good?” I asked.

She chewed slowly, not rushing the mouthful.

“Amazing,” she eventually replied. She gave me a warm smile then took another bite.

***

Despite a day spent doing physical labor, I found myself unable to sleep that night.

Cinnamon was snoring softly beside me, and petted her head with one hand as the other drifted toward my lips. My heart thumped in my chest as I replayed the kiss Maria had given me before departing. Though thinking of her made my blood pound, she wasn’t the source of my sleeplessness. Well, not the only source, anyway.

I’d started the rock wall with the intention of banishing my churning thoughts, and, thankfully, it had worked, but it wasn’t that I was overthinking—I felt as though I’d just had five double-shots of espresso from Sue’s bakery.

Maybe I need to cut back on the caffeine? I thought. I haven’t been drinking that much, though...

Abruptly, I sat up, feeling as though I needed to burn some energy. Not knowing why, I flung the door to my wardrobe open, and something caught my attention. There was a glow coming from the back of the closet, and I bent down, my eyebrows furrowing as I cast aside shirts and other bits of clothing.

I found a familiar chest back there, but as the layers of material had been removed, the glow dissipated entirely.

“Was I imagining it...?”

I’d long ago hidden the chest in my room, but hadn’t given it much thought since then. Not wanting to make any noise and wake Cinnamon, I picked it up and took it to the living room.

The night air was cool beyond my bedroom, and the ethereal moonlight shining in through my glass windows seemed to add a layer of frost to everything it touched. I set the chest down and sat before it.

An overwhelming amount of wealth lay within when I opened it. The moonlight reflected off pearls and silver, giving the assorted jewelry an enchanting appearance. One ring in particular stood out, and I picked it up, lifting it so it shone beneath the mood. It was the one I’d made with the help of Fergus, and it drew my eyes in.

Iridescent Ring of Silver

Rare

A ring of precious metal, adorned by one of the most sought-after stones found in the Kallis Realm. More than just a symbol of wealth, this ring has a multitude of purposes for those with the requisite knowledge.

I’d hoped the System would tell me what the ‘purposes’ were now that it was working, but I supposed that was too much to ask. I slid the ring on one finger, taking comfort in its cool touch.

Returning my attention to the chest, I lifted a small pouch from within and opened it. I removed a gold coin from inside and held it up to the light. On one side, an unfamiliar face stared back at me, and on the other, the image of a scythe was raised in gold. There were twenty-six coins in total, only one of which was a remnant of the coins I’d received when arriving in this strange world. The rest had appeared from nowhere when I created the freshwater pond Claws now called home; the System had seen fit to generate them for a reason entirely unknown to me.

I recalled how wishing for and imagining a home had resulted in my house being built, and an idea struck me. Focusing on the pile of coins before me, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. With my legs crossed, spine upright, and palms facing up, I settled into the stereotypical meditative pose from earth.

Trying to replicate what I’d done when accidentally building a home, I imagined what I wanted to create. I immediately hit a wall; I had no idea what I wanted. I had more friends than I could count, my own oceanfront land, and all the time in the world to spend fishing. I cocked my head to the side, unable to sit still as I searched for what more I could possibly need.

All I want is to protect what I already have, I decided.

With this realization, my core seemed to vibrate. A tendril of power shot out from my abdomen, seeking... something. I let it go, focusing on the sensations of my body and the desire to protect the life I’d found here in Tropica.

The tendril extended further out, and I jolted as it made contact with something.

It paused for but a moment, then started pouring power into the connection.