Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 5: Patience and Fortitude

A cool breeze caressed Rocky's body; it was a welcome sensation following his feast. Moonlight shone down from above, reflecting off of the thin metal tray he held high.

Swifter than either of the humans could see, Rocky smacked them both on the head—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make a satisfying noise. He dropped the tray, jumped back, then lowered his claws to the ground and slammed them shut.

Two explosions ripped into existence, sand sprayed everywhere, and Rocky flew backwards, propelled out over the ocean.

He hissed and bubbled with laughter as he spun over the water's surface, trailing salty tears of joy as he imagined the looks on their faces.

***

Bonk.

Donk.

Joel flinched as the deity smacked him on the head with the serving tray.

A sharp detonation sounded, and sand sprayed everywhere.

Grains fell, and he tentatively lifted his head, squinting out at the world through narrowed eyes. The deity was nowhere to be seen, but then the moon reflected from something high above the bay.

It was the crab, having somehow ejected itself from the beach and granted itself flight. It arced down, and after another breath, splashed down noiselessly.

"I can't believe it..." Jess said, sitting up and rubbing her head. "There's two of them, and that one is a maniac…"

Joel slowly turned to her, giving a knowing smile.

"I think you've misread the situation, Jess."

"I have...? How?"

"That was the same crab, merely in a different form."

"... a different form? What do you mean?"

He nodded.

"It's not your fault—some of the doctrine is off-limits to anyone but head priests. When creatures ascend to a certain level, they can alter their appearance."

Jess's mouth moved noiselessly, the words refusing to come forth.

"That's right, Jess. It was another test to see how we'd react."

Joel grinned, his features going manic.

"Our deity, this 'Sergeant Snips', is even more advanced in her ascension than we thought."

***

For the second time in recent memory, an ancient being of the forest stirred.

It knew not what had roused it, and as its awareness slowly grew, it looked for the source of its awakening. It extended tendrils in search of the two beings from earlier, but neither were present.

Confusion bloomed, and it was just about to go back to sleep when it felt something... underground?

There was a source of energy near one of its roots. It took a chance and exerted what little power remained to it, sending a root up to quest for the anomaly. When it reached the source of its confusion, joy bloomed like a springtime flower. It was a source of energy, and though it was small in size, it was potent.

The ancient being drank deep, using some of the power to extend more tendrils in pursuit of further discoveries. It found three more in the surrounding earth, spaced evenly apart. Each was small, powerful, and left it wanting more.

The being shivered in delight, and if anyone were present, they'd have noticed a peculiar sight: a light-blue tree's leaves swaying in a breeze that didn't exist.

The meal was over entirely too soon, and with its hunger somewhat satiated, the being withdrew its awareness and slipped back into a restful slumber.

***

Corporal Claws was resting atop her favored perch when something of note happened.

A strange power tickled at her awareness, and she darted her head toward it, trying to gauge its source. The resonance was coming from somewhere to the south, and she leaped from her log before slinking off toward the anomaly.

She slipped from shadow to shadow, utilizing her unparalleled skills in reconnaissance.

She was the night; she was silence incarnate; she was—Corporal Claws froze, her body going stiff as an oyster's shell. The source of the strange energy was before her, and she peered from under a fallen log, ensuring her entire body lay in shadow.

Pinpricks of moonlight shone down through the canopy, revealing a light-blue tree. Whatever was causing the disturbance had to be hiding behind it, so she snuck—rather sneakily, by her estimation—around the perimeter, keeping her peepers pinned on the offending trunk. No matter which angle she viewed it from, however, there was nothing to be seen.

There were four patches of disturbed earth surrounding the tree, which were undoubtedly where her master had tried planting the lemon seeds he'd spent the last week talking about. Was it possible that their growth had been what she felt...?

No, she decided immediately. It had been an intelligent creature acting upon the world.

There was no answer for what the creature was or where it went, and her ears twitched in frustration.

She was just contemplating her next move when the tree shook. The entire thing shivered like an otter with no fur emerging from a frosty stream, so she hunched low to the ground. There wasn't something behind the tree—it was in the tree!

She wiggled her body and lay flat as her pupils dilated.

She would wait the creature out—such was the patience and fortitude of Corporal Claws, fuzziest and cutest disciple of Fischer.

***

Half an hour later, Claws crept forward toward the trunk, having had her fill of waiting—it was just so boring.

She held her power at bay, not wanting to spark with energy and warn her unseen foe. On silent paws, she approached. A small grin tugged at her lip as the thrill of the hunt flooded through her. She bent her legs, wiggled her tooshie, then leaped into the tree's branches. She had a haughty expression across her face, intending to appear smug to whatever was hiding there, but upon landing, her visage transformed to annoyance.

She darted from branch to branch, but no matter how hard she looked, there was no creature to find. Her nose twitched as she worked to catch a scent, but other than earth, foliage, and her own wonderful aroma, she detected nothing.

She looked around, blinked, then let out an indignant chirp—there were shenanigans afoot.

***

I woke to something warm and fuzzy curled up between my arm and body, snoring.

I stroked Cinnamon's velvety fur with one hand as I let out a yawn, and she nuzzled into me, letting out a quiet peep to protest the arrival of morning.

Carefully, I extricated myself from the bed and placed pillows around Cinnamon before tucking her back in. She wiggled, and within seconds, resumed her quiet snores, easily falling back asleep.

The moment I opened my front door, I was immediately buffeted by a cool breeze. I stepped into the sun, and its warmth stole some of the wind's frigid touch as I stretched. Eyes closed and arms extended to the sky, I luxuriated in the sensations of my body.

The serendipity was shattered when something collided with my chest, and I let out a laugh as I fell to the sand.

"Good morning, Snips. Sleep well?"

She bubbled her greeting from atop my chest and lowered her carapace, snuggling into me.

I petted the top of her head, taking comfort in her sturdy shell.

"I have some stuff to build, so I'll be gone most of the day."

She nodded her understanding and hugged me tight, so I held her back with both arms.

I heard a hiss from my left. Rocky was approaching, snippers raised and bubbles of fury spewing from his mouth.

"You want a pet too, mate?"

I reached out to pat his head, but he clacked his claws in warning.

"Whoa. Grumpy little fella, aren't—"

Snips, as a blur of blue and orange, halted before him, scooped him up with one claw, then flung him out to sea with a vicious overhand throw.

I watched his body rocket out toward the horizon, his angular carapace rather stunning under the morning sun’s light.

"You don't have to send him for six every time he gets a little nippy, Snips."

She brushed her claws as if wiping off dirt, the very picture of indignation.

"I think he's a little jealous of our friendship," I said, laughing.

She shook her head and hissed in exasperation, and I laughed again.

After one more reassuring rub of her carapace, I set off for Tropica.

***

"Morning, Fischer!"

"G'day, Sue!" I replied from the back of the line

She was a coffee-pouring, order-taking, pastry-slinging whirlwind behind the bakery counter, and I couldn't help but smile.

"You're getting faster!"

"I have no choice—business is booming!"

Before I could respond, someone with a gruff voice cleared their throat behind me.

How does he make an ahem sound annoyed? I thought, turning.

"How ya doing, Roger?"

"I'm well, Fischer."

He paused, his mouth moving as if he had gristle stuck in his teeth.

"How are you?"

"I'm fantastic, mate! Are the ladies up yet?"

"They’re not, no."

I didn't let his unimpressed attitude bring me down.

"Well, hopefully they'll be up when we bring them a coffee and croissant."

His face remained still, but something was burning in his eyes.

"I believe it's my turn to pay."

I'd been taking them a coffee and pastry every day for the past week, and every morning Roger and I played out this little dance. I'd be chipper, he'd be grumpy, I'd offer to buy brekkie, he'd insist it was his turn. The last three days, I'd paid—Sue was on my side, after all, and she had final say in the domain of caffeine and baked goods.

I figured it was time I gave Roger a win.

"Are you sure, mate? I'm flush with dosh, and I'm more than happy to shout. It brings me joy—"

"I'm sure," he interrupted, staring at me.

I smiled.

"Well, thank you, mate. I appreciate it."

That I didn't have to pay for my coffee or croissant, and that I'd basically just agreed to let Roger buy his family their own brekkie, went unsaid.

"Just the usual thanks, Sue!" I said when we reached the counter.

"Coming right up!"

As she slid four coffees and croissants toward us, she peered at Roger's proffered coin, then raised an eyebrow at me. I gave a small nod, and she beamed in response.

"Thank you, Roger. I'll just get your change."

***

The sun peeked over the rows of sugarcane as Roger and I walked between them, and I took a deep breath of the morning air.

I had a coffee in hand, it was a beautiful day, and I was on the way to see my favorite human; given all this, I was unaffected by the disgruntled father of said human stomping beside me.

"What are your plans for the day, mate?"

"Farming," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Nice. How are the crops doing?"

"Good."

"Happy to hear it. I'm gonna make some stuff today, I reckon."

He made a non-committal grunt.

"You know, Roger—you'd be more than welcome to come give fishing a try if you wanted to try it."

"And why would I do that?"

"If nothing else, fish is a fantastic fertilizer—you could think of it as an extension of farming if it makes the whole 'heretical' aspect of things any better."

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Suit yourself! The offer is always open if you change your mind. Think of my sand as your sand."

He snorted, and I smiled in response.

***

"Maria! Fischer's here!" Sharon yelled from the kitchen.

Her head shot from her door. She wore pajamas, a beautiful grin, and an absolute mess of hair.

"Be out in a moment!"

She emerged a minute later, hair smoothed, pajamas swapped out for daywear, and the stunning smile still present.

I held out the coffee; she ignored it entirely, stepping past my outstretched hand and pressing her lips to my cheek.

"Thank you," she said, taking the coffee as she withdrew.

Heat rose to my face, and I pointedly looked at her and not her parents, who had gone quiet in the kitchen. It was the first time she'd done so in front of her parents, and despite it being merely a peck, it left me poleaxed.

Sharon laughed and I chanced a look. She leaned on Roger's shoulder for support, her other hand covering her mouth.

"Your face, Fischer—you're redder than passiona jam."

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Maria stepped back in and wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Don't be so mean, mom."

"Sorry," she said, her cheeks glowing with mirth from behind her raised hand. "It's just funny seeing a fearless heretic brought low by a mere kiss. Come on, Roger. Let's go finish our breakfast outside."

As they passed, Roger shot me an unreadable look that I took as a warning, and I gave him an awkward smile in response.

"So," Maria said, releasing me from her cuddle. "What are the plans today, oh 'fearless heretic'?"

She smiled up at me as she took a sip of coffee, and the embarrassment slowly left me.

"Well, I did have some light teasing in the itinerary, but seeing as though that's been taken care of, we can skip to phase two."

She nodded, giving me a knowing look.

"My efficiency knows no bounds—I thought it best to get the teasing out of the way, lest I become the target."

She took another sip, closed her eyes, and let out a light sigh.

"What does phase two entail?"

“Oh, nothing major—I thought you might like to make your own fishing rod. If that's not to your liking, though...”

I trailed off, delighting as her eyes went wide and a grin grew across her freckled face.