Heretical Fishing

Book 4: Chapter 26: Calamity

Deep beneath the ocean, in a place where the pressure alone would crush most, an ancient being sat very, very still. He had made a mistake, one with the potential to unravel his greatest plan to date. This knowledge, that he had taken a step in error, filled him with rage. His body wanted to roil. Wanted to absorb all the nearby rocks and grind them to dust. But for the sake of his plans, he stomped the emotion down.

Only an hour ago, a blip in ‌his existence, he had been steadily making his way toward the newborn elemental. There had been no rush, after all. He was as inexorable as the passage of time, and no matter how long it took, he would have eventually reached his target. Sneak up, feign weakness, destroy utterly. It had worked when his mass was that of a mere boulder, and still worked now that he was larger than most mountains.

He had been creeping closer when the infant elemental had done something unexpected. It’d changed positions—so swiftly that he, at first, thought it teleported. Such things were possible, of course. He had faced more than one elemental that could step through space. The reality was far more troubling, however—it was just fast. Blisteringly so. It was the second-quickest being he’d ever encountered.

The fastest had been a fire elemental who, unlike the others of its kind, possessed unbridled agility. That singular fight had been enough for him to understand that those with speed and the cognition to match were his greatest weakness. They were the only ones who could react in time to his ambush tactics.

And, if his senses could be believed, the newly awakened elemental had only been birthed this lunar cycle. So young, yet its spryness was almost on par with the centuries-old fire elemental that had nearly ended him.

His instincts had screamed to send more chi toward it, demanding that he learn what abyssal demon had appeared on his—no, their—planet. He’d fought those urges back for as long as he could, remaining strong for a commendable amount of time, but had failed when it stopped atop the ocean’s surface.

The moment he gave in to his hunger for knowledge, a fragment of his attention had shot into a far away stone dwelling on the ocean floor, a part of himself left behind for such purposes. He had scattered hundreds of them across their world, all portals through which he could spy.

Only a whisper of his true power channeled into the object. It was half a league away from the other elemental, and with how delicate his touch was, his foe should never have been able to detect him. But it had. It’d noticed him as soon as he arrived.

He had immediately abandoned the stone, severing his connection to it for good, lest the newborn discover his existence. Having to leave behind a portion of himself, no matter its insignificant size, was a large part of his anger. It felt like admitting defeat. Like seeding ground to an upstart. And yet… it was entirely necessary.

He was once more in control when he let some of his awareness leach out into the world. The other being was still on high alert, so he waited. Silt and sand settled over his gigantic form, the waters around him only just starting to calm. Tiny lifeforms, mostly crustaceans, found places to hide within the patches of debris. He paid them no mind. All of his attention remained on the other elemental’s position, which he could still vaguely sense. When it released a blast of power and rocketed up into the sky, a wave of relief washed over him. It was clearly fearful, but it had been confident enough to take another lifeform with it.

These actions meant one thing: the newborn elemental hadn’t gotten a read of his power. If it had, it would have fled for its survival. It certainly wouldn’t have slowed its passage to preserve the existence of a mere beast. As it got further and further away, leaving the range of his senses, he finally moved again.

Though his foe had plenty of potential, so had all the others. He’d absorbed them all, their strength becoming his, and his becoming theirs. He began moving once more, a localized landslide that destroyed everything in its path.

It was only a matter of time until he rolled over the newborn and assimilated its chi.

***

Far to the north, an ancient organism was lost in thought. The problem with theories, he surmised,

Many more considerations followed, the alacrity with which he processed each thought reflective of his vast intellect. He had stirred frequently of late, and as whispers of power seemed to return to the world, so too did his awareness. This was, he determined, a good thing. But it did make sleep more elusive.

Each time, there was an urge for him to move, yet he never followed these compulsions. There was good reason, of course. Logic behind his abstainment. After all, he was nothing if not a beacon of rationality.

But that didn’t make it any easier for the organism to fight his instinct. His body twitched whenever hints of chi washed over him, his limbs wanting nothing more than to engulf and crush the targets of his ire. Always, though, reason won. No matter how strong the pull, how unignorable the currents, it wasn’t yet time to indulge his base instincts. The only way to ensure victory was to wait for his oldest ally to awaken once more.

He resolved himself to live each moment of this agony. To revel in the curse that was his continued existence, as well as the knowledge that it could be thousands of years before the time to strike arrived. Until then, he couldn’t move. If he was detected, all was for nothing.

With great effort and forced mindfulness—a misnomer if ever there was one—the organism’s thoughts died down. Just as slumber was about to welcome him into its loving embrace, he was jolted awake by a memory made manifest.

A pulse of aura that he recognized as if his own. It was his oldest ally ‘jumping’ to one of his scouting rocks. But no. It had to have been an artifact of sleep. If it wasn’t, his period of inaction would cease—such a possibility was too good to be true, and even the idea of it threatened to weaken his resolve. He settled back into himself, closing his eyes and willing his thoughts to fade once more.

The pulse came again, and this time, there was no question as to its authenticity.

The organism’s eyelids flew open, revealing abyssal orbs whose description alone had been the basis of religions. His oldest ally, the earth elemental of legend, had just severed its connection to a part of itself. Something small, like a stone or a shell. But that was inconsequential. What mattered was that the earth elemental, a being that had long since shed any of its names, was awake.

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The organism wasted no time. More liquid than flesh, he slid from a crevasse deep beneath the ocean, the place he’d called home since his ally had let itself be trapped. No light made its way down into the trench he occupied, but he didn’t need it. He had something even better.

As he honed in on the last place he’d felt the earth elemental, duty spurred him onward, fueling his passage through the freezing waters.

***

With absolutely no ease and even less grace, I sat up. “Ow,” I groaned, rubbing my temples. “What happened?” My head felt like it had been squashed between a boulder and... another, even bigger boulder.

“And why are analogies so hard...?” I asked the universe, trying and failing to distract myself from the pain afflicting me.

“You overextended yourself,” Barry said, his voice somewhere to my left. Or my right. Who knew, honestly.

“Yeahhh. I think I remember now. Got ya pretty good.”

“You did, but it lessened the blow when you fell unconscious and faceplanted the ground almost immediately afterward.”

“Lies and deceit,” I replied, but then I felt the sand in my mouth. “Why did no one catch me...?”

“Borks and Cinnamon worked together to catch you, but Cinnamon got a little... carried away.”

I touched the sore spot on the back of my head. “She kicked me by accident, didn’t she?”

“Headbutted the crap out of you when she flew out of the portal. Almost knocked herself out.”

“Damn. She okay?”

The two pals in question arrived at my side, Cinnamon unleashing a torrent of apologetic peeps and Borks just happy to see me. I used my hands to both hold them at bay and deliver scritches. As I delighted in their soft fur and the way they leaned into my touch, my eyes finally focused. Even with only partial vision, I couldn’t have missed Barry’s smile if I tried. “Well, I’m glad you got some entertainment out of my misfortune.”

He beamed. “So am I.”

Already, the pain in my head was easing, the contact of my animal pals wicking it away like sweat beneath the summer sun. “Where is everyone?”

“Building your damned boat.”

“... What?”

“As it turns out, we have a basic understanding of ships if we combine our efforts.”

“The knowledge the System granted you?”

“Yep. It was patchy, but we compared notes, so to speak. You’ve been out for a good half hour, so we already started organising the materials. We’ve been busy. Considering what you pulled earlier, I thought about just building it without you, but I’m not that cruel.”

I laughed, pulling both Cinnamon and Borks into my lap now that my headache was mostly gone. They both rolled onto their backs and accepted their belly scratches. “No you didn’t.”@@novelbin@@

“... I didn’t what?” Barry asked.

“You didn’t consider doing it without my approval. You know how excited I am to build it, and you’re far too good a man to rob me of that.”

He let out a self-conscious sniff that was entirely at odds with his muscular body. “Yeah, well, keep pushing me and one day I might.”

We both grinned at each other, knowing it to be a lie. Barry stood, then helped me to my feet. I gazed toward the cart and the former pile of materials. Barry hadn’t been kidding—they had been busy. Every member of the congregation present was helping, as were most of the regular humans that had arrived. Almost all the wood had been organized into neat stacks that no-doubt facilitated the plans they’d drawn up.

“Okay, before anything else, let’s have a look at these plans.” I accepted them from Paul, and couldn’t help but raise an appreciative brow at the schematics. “Who drew these…?”

Paul absolutely beamed. “I did!”

“By hand?”

“Uhhh,” Barry said. “How else would he draw them?”

“Yeah, look, that’s a fair point. I just can’t believe how straight the lines are.” With a step forward, I softly ruffled Paul’s hair. “I didn’t know we had a little Picasso on our hands. Maybe we need to get you some different art supplies and let you—” I froze mid sentence. “Never mind.”

“What—” Barry began, but then he felt it too. Or, rather, he felt her.

Corporal Claws struck the ground before me with much more subtlety than I expected. She was riding lightning, sure, but it lacked any of her usual flare. She didn’t even melt the sand beneath her.

“Claws,” I said, expecting trickery. “Welcome home...”

She loped toward me with excited steps, her grin as wide as I’d ever seen it. When she got to me, she reached both paws into one of her pockets.

“Listen, Claws,” I said. “I’m genuinely happy you’re back so soon, but if you hit me with some pocket sand, I’ll kick you clean over the horizon again. We need to have a serious talk about boundaries now that you’ve had another breakthrough, missy.”

She shook her head, and before I could question her mood further, she withdrew her paws. Clutched between her devious little hands was something fluffy, adorable, and terrifying.

I stepped back. “Absolutely not, Claws! You put that back where you found it!”

Why? she demanded with an indignant chirp, her body-language shifting.

“Because I said so, Claws! That thing is only going to bring calamity if it ascends!”

She chirped again, looking at me like I’d just kicked a puppy.

“I can tell it’s unwell, Claws, but it’s not critical. We can heal it. Absolutely. But then you have to take it back!”

Her next chirp was beseeching, and she gestured at its face emphatically.

“I know it’s already wearing a mask! That’s the problem!”

Barry knelt down, inspected the adolescent mammal up close, then gave me a questioning look. “Why don’t you want to keep it? It’s really cute, and you love cute things.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I know it’s super fucking cute, Barry. It’s taking all of my strength not to scoop it up and give it a name.”

“... so why don’t you?”

Yeah! Claws agreed, piling on. Why?

“Because we had these back on Earth. They’re tricky little things, and that’s without accounting for the intelligence that comes with awakening. Don’t give me that look, Claws. We have our hands full with you and Cinnamon! The last thing we need is another you!”

She walked forward, cradling the creature to her chest and staring up at me with puppy-dog eyes. Pleeeaaase? she cooed.

“I don’t think you’ll win this battle, Fischer. It’s not in your nature.”

A sparkle in Claws’s eye was the only warning before she lobbed it at me. My choice was to let an injured animal drop to the ground, or to catch it. I caught it, of course. Its fur was even softer than I’d imagined, and I couldn’t help but stroke its cheek with one finger.

As I watched its chest rise and fall, a wet sound coming from it, I let out a long-suffering sigh. No matter how much trouble it brought to our shores, there was no way I could release this baby out into the wild.

Claws zapped up onto my shoulder, then ran around my torso like a squirrel, never once taking her eyes off of it. The rest of the animal pals had drifted over, and I took a knee so everyone could get a look. They were all torn between inspecting the cute little thing and looking at Claws’s new form. I smiled as their heads literally darted back and forth. “We’ll take it to Snips’s healing pool. I didn’t want to interrupt Maria’s meditation, but this one’s health takes precedence.”

Barry leaned over the top of everyone. “What is it, Fischer? What kind of animal, I mean?”

I paused, staring down at its tiny form. It had four legs and four paws, though there was an argument to be made that the front two were actually hands. Because of its age, its fur was mostly grey, its striped marking yet to come in. A pair of supremely cute ears. And last of all, the feature that Claws had pointed out as if that alone would sway me: dark rings around its eyes that, when it grew older, would form a black mask.

I shook my head, unable to hide my smile. “It’s a fuckin’ racoon, Barry, and may the gods help us if the little prick ever ascends.”