Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 9: Fuzz

The sun beat down on Sergeant Snips as she approached a rather silly looking creature. It had already been taken care of, and its lifeless mouth hung slightly ajar, revealing black flesh and sharp teeth within.

Her master had said the System called it ‘excellent bait’, which meant it would likely be a tasty little afternoon snack for Snips. Just then, the wind changed direction, and she immediately reassessed how tasty a treat it would be. The smell was suffocating, and she froze on the spot, the scent overwhelming.

Part of Snips could tell that in the not so distant past, this eel would have been a pleasure upon her senses. As she was now, however, that wasn’t the case. Her palate had changed following the introduction of Fischer’s varied foods—whatever this creature was, it was no longer on the menu.

She turned and headed back for Fischer and Maria, shaking her head emphatically.

***

“It’s not nice...?” I asked

“See?” Maria said. “I told you! It’s way too stinky.”

Snips held up a claw, halting us. She made a series of gestures between her and the water, blowing hisses and bubbles that I understood.

“It’ll taste good to fish, but not you?”

When I caught their meaning, I laughed and bent down to pat her head.

“Thanks, Snips.”

“What did she say?” Maria asked. “All I got was that she was happy about something.”

“She says my cooking has made food she once loved taste terrible. Probably the best compliment you could give a chef.”

I stretched and took a deep breath; the salty air leveled me out, and a smile came to my face as I exhaled slowly.

“Alright. Now we know the eel is good for fishing, shall we?”

Maria grinned.

“Let’s do it.”

***

Cutting the eel into hook-sized pieces without getting a whiff was a convoluted process involving a leaf glove, facing my back to the wind, and no small amount of concentration.

With a leaf cupped in my hand, I slid a chunk of flesh onto Maria’s hook. She had swapped the sabiki rig for a drop rig, and with the bait’s addition, her rod was ready to go. She walked to the rocky edge, flicked the reel forward, drew her arms back, then sent the hook and sinker sailing out over the water.

The sun was descending behind us, making its inexorable way toward the western mountains. The sky was tinged with hints of purple and pink, and I knew we would witness a stunning sunset over the next couple of hours. Beneath the beautiful colors of the afternoon sky, Maria’s bait hit the water and sank toward the river-mouth’s floor.

After placing some pungent eel on my hook, I stood to the left of Maria and cast my line further out to sea, ensuring our lines wouldn’t get tangled. I flicked the reel back into place and spun to my fishing partner. She was beaming a serene smile at me, and I raised an eyebrow, smiling back.

“What’s up?”

“This is really nice, Fischer.”

I took a deep breath, the joy spreading wider on my face.

“It is, isn’t it? It’s nice fishing by yourself, but there’s just something about doing it with a friend. Oh, don’t give me that look—you know what I mean.”

She sniffed, attempting to appear unimpressed, but the corner of her lip twitched in amusement. It was almost unnoticeable on her sun-kissed skin.

“Just a friend, huh? Wait until my lord father hears about this.”

I shot my eyes wide open and gaped at her.

“Please, my lady, anything but that—King Roger would have my head.”

Her amusement broke through, and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she giggled.

“I will take pity, but just this once. Next time you won’t be so—”

The words died in her throat as the tip of her rod twitched. It tugged down, slight but repetitive.

“It looks like baitfish have found it...” I said, watching her rod. “Wait it out. They may bite the pointy end by accident.”

As we both watched the chaotic twitching of her rod, the fish found my bait too, and both tips bounced in a staccato rhythm.

“Does this usually happen?” Maria asked.

“Not really, no. Maybe the bait is too effective—it’s luring the bait fish all the way from the shore to the middle of the channel.”

Maria’s rod stilled, and after a few more tugs, mine did too.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I’m pretty sure the little buggers stole our bait...”

She made an annoyed noise and began to wind her line back in, but it went slack. Maria cocked her head in response, her hair falling freely.

“Huh...?”

She wound the line until it went taut, then tugged the rod up a few times, but it didn’t budge.

“I think I’m stuck on somethi—w-whoa!”

She was almost pulled into the river, and had to let go of the reel’s handle as something colossal moved away, taking line with it.

“You’re stuck on something, alright,” I said. “A massive fish!”

“Th-this is a fish?” she asked, her eyes going wide. She made a few testing tugs on the rod. “Feel like I’m hooked on a log...”

The ‘log’ changed directions, and her eyes went even wider. She moved along the shore toward me as it swam out to sea.

Focused as I was on the thing Maria had hooked, I’d completely forgotten about my rod—until something tried to yank it from my hands.

“W-whoa! Fish on!”

I set the hook, and something large took an immediate run further into the river mouth.

“Go under,” I said to Maria as I walked toward her and held my rod high. She slipped underneath, crouching low.

I felt a moment of conflict as I stared after her, feeling a need to assist with her fight, but also wanting to focus on my own. I shook my head, clearing it. I had to give my full attention to my own rod, lest I lose or hurt the fish. I breathed deep of the salty air, felt the slick rocks beneath my bare feet, and focused on the fitful breeze whipping around me.

The fish moved with heavy shakes of the head, and it felt like nothing I’d hooked before. With each kick of its powerful tail, my rod bounced. Anticipation and glee rose up from within; I used them to further ground myself in the moment, each sensation of my mind and body tunneling me in on the present.

As the fish moved further upriver, my footing changed from rock to sand, and I followed along, letting the fish tire itself as I kept the line taut. Its strength slowly began to waver, so I started pumping the rod up and down as I wound the reel. It came closer and closer to shore, and I squinted out in the fading light of day as it drew near.

I caught a glimpse for just a moment, but it made the blood pound in my ears. A powerful tail, spotted and muscular, kicked away as it left the shallows for the depths. I wound the reel backward, both letting the fish tire itself further and decreasing the chances of my line snapping.

Exhausted as it must be, its power remained unbelievable. Each kick of its tail was slower now, but still made the rod shift and sway. Eventually, even its kicks grew sluggish, and I reeled it into the shallows. The fish swam with the shoreline only two meters from me, and I let out a soft whistle.

The sky had turned a brilliant pink, causing its light-colored body to absorb and reflect the hues above. The fish was covered in spots, and had an enormous mouth and tail. I wound the line in further, stepped into the shallows, and lifted it up onto the shore.

It kicked feebly as my eyes drew into it.

Juvenile Goliath Grouper

Rare

Usually found in the deepest reefs of the ocean, these fish grow to become true monsters of the deep. It is said they can live to be centuries old.

“You’re a juvenile...?” I asked, incredulity clear in my voice. “Just how big do you get...?”

The fish kicked its body in response, and I walked it back down to the water. I’d eaten juvenile fish before, but knowing this thing had such a long life ahead of it, releasing it felt like the right thing to do. If my friends or I were starving, that would be a different story, but as the saying went, there were always more fish in the sea.

I dipped its head beneath the water and moved it back and forth to get water running through its gills. At the same time, I looked toward the river mouth in search of Maria.

“Where has she gotten to...?” I mused aloud.

Just then, the fish kicked off. Its tail moved sluggishly, but as long as it could swim forward, I knew it would survive the release.

“Thanks, fishy,” I called after it, watching as its light-gray speckled body disappeared beneath the waves.

An immense wave of gratitude flooded me, and I smiled out at the dark water for a long moment before I took off, running for the river mouth.

***

When I rounded the headland, the sky had turned from a light pink to a vibrant shade of violet as the sun got lower in the western sky.

Maria was just up the coast, leaning back as she tried to heave the fish she’d hooked toward land. I ran to meet her.

“Have you seen it yet?”

“No!” she grunted through clenched teeth, then dipped her rod down to wind in more line. “It’s like the thing is glued to the ocean floor...”

I had an idea of what it probably was, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

Their dance continued, and bit by bit, Maria got the heavy creature closer to shore. Sensing it would soon be caught, the fish abandoned its tactic of sucking its body to the floor, instead trying to glide away. Maria pounced on the moment of weakness, pumping and winding the rod. A massive shadow lifted towards the water’s surface, and she let out a gasp as she caught sight of it.

“What in Nereus’ rich bounty is that?”

“That,” I answered, “is a stingray.”

She blinked down at the thing as she continued winding, bringing it to the shallows. It was a meter wide, so dark a brown as to be almost black, with thick wings surrounding a raised body.

Maria practically vibrated with excitement, and a full-body shiver overtook her.

“You right?” I asked, smirking at her.

“I’m overwhelmed!” she yelled back, so loud I may have assumed she was angry if not for the open-mouthed smile betraying her true feelings.

She continued heaving, and when the stingray was half out of the water, I leaned down, grabbed the line, and hauled it up onto the sand.

Common Stingray

Common

Found in the coastal waters of the Kallis region, these stingrays are a staple source of food.

“Watch out for its tail,” I said as my eyes cleared. “That’s where the name comes from.”

“How do you know so much about it?” Maria asked, bouncing from foot to foot. “Have you caught one before?”

“No—I’ve caught a shovelnose ray before, but it was much thinner with a long, meaty tail. I know about these from Earth.”

“Is it edible? The description said they’re a staple source of food…” Her eyes grew intense. “Are they tasty?”

I grinned at her.

“It looks like you’ve caught us dinner.”

***

Corporal Claws, most lusciously furred of all of Fischer’s disciples—Yes, including Cinnamon, she thought, who was clearly covered in fuzz, not fur—returned to her watchpost as the sun set.

She’d had to leave for a moment to attain sustenance; it would be downright negligent to attempt an overnight watch on an empty stomach. She smiled to herself as she munched on the fish she’d caught in the river and cast her gaze out over the clearing, the light-blue tree in the center, and her pile of bait.

Some hours later, with half-lidded eyes and a deep sense of weariness, she slapped herself across the face, shaking her head as she willed herself to wake up. Despite her intention of waiting all night—and her best efforts at staying true to that ideal—doing nothing was just so boring.

She took a deep breath and let it out in a hissing sigh, not at all looking forward to the rest of the night.

It was just then, her attention waning and wakefulness fading, that the creature’s presence returned.

Corporal Claws’ eyes dilated, and she was immediately flooded with focus and determination.

The strange power started as a trickle, like the first drop of rain that fell from the sky and hit your arm, leaving you unsure if you imagined it. The trickle became a stream, and the stream became an immutable torrent.

Corporal Claws watched on, confusion growing. The exertion of will came not from around the tree, but within and beneath its magnificent trunk. The power seemed to spread through the ground, climbing up toward the forest floor, until finally, it burst through the carpet of grass.

A single root, thin as a piece of straw, exited right beside her pile of bait. It moved with prehensile grace, seeming to taste the air before plunging into the fish.

Claws let out an indignant chirp, ignited her body with crackling energy, then launched herself at the creature.