Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Prologue

The sun beat down from above, blanketing me in its warmth.

A soft, calming breeze blew over the sandy flat by my home, bringing with it the scents of salt, ocean air, and deep-fried fish.

A crunch rang out, and my heart pounded.

Maria's eyes went wide at the taste, then she closed them and let out a soft mmm, raising her face toward the sun's rays.

"This is the best tasting meal yet, Fischer. I—"

Her eyes flew open.

They went distant, causing my heart to climb into my throat.

Something tugged at my core, the faintest whisper of pressure that originated from Maria. Fast as it had come, the hint of power disappeared, and I held my breath, every sense focused on her.

She shook her head and blinked, her eyes still somewhat distant.

My pulse beat in my ears, and I wiped sweaty palms on my thighs.

"You..." I swallowed. "You got the message?"

Her gaze snapped to mine, and she gave me a small nod.

"I did."

"... and?"

"And I'm a cultivator now, I suppose."

"How do you, uh... feel?"

"I feel the same, honestly... though I suppose I have to get used to my new name..."

"Wait, you picked a new name?"

She nodded, her face serious.

"Yeah, it might be a bit jarring for people to start calling me 'Fish Queen', but I'm sure they'll get used to it in time."

I blinked; she blinked back.

"Please tell me you're joking, Mari—er, Fish Queen...?"

Her mask of indifference shattered, and she covered her mouth as she snorted a laugh.

"Your... your face, Fischer."

She cackled, roaring her delight toward the sky as she leaned back in the sand.

Corporal Claws chittered from her lap, one paw pointing at me as her hissed laughs joined Maria.

I glared at them, but couldn’t keep the smile from my face.

***

A week later, in a room high atop the capital of Gormona's castle, a construct worked tirelessly.

Since its reawakening, the relic had been processing the world's essence, not pausing for a single second. As the power continued building, it approached a milestone.

If a construct could experience emotion, it would be elated. But... such things were not possible for this artifact, so it continued on incessantly, taking neither joy nor pride in its task.

It gathered the final trickle necessary and added it to the pool of collected essence. The construct pushed it out, forcing the power into another relic across the room.

That relic, which had sat dormant for millennia, sputtered to life.

A screen that had sat unused for time immemorial turned on and began printing text.

Boosting power relay...

...

...

...

Success! Relay area increased!

***

That evening, a frosty breeze flitted through the streets of Gormona. Candle-lit lamps lined the roads, half of which had burnt out, either extinguished by the wind or lacking the requisite fuel to make it past the early hours of morning. A half-moon shone down from above, adding an ethereal air to everything it touched.

It was on these streets, hugging himself and regretting his choice of clothing, that a hooded man strode.

"By Zeus's forked beard—it's freezing."

Talking to himself didn't help his predicament. If anything, it put him at risk of being discovered, so he clamped his jaw shut and trudged on.

By the time he reached his destination, his fingers were numb. When he pounded on the door, numbness transformed into a bone-deep aching. There was no answer, so he pulled his fist back once more, but then a muffled voice spoke from inside.

"What's the password?" Number Two asked.

"Mellow yellow banana," he hissed through chattering teeth.

"That's the old password, Number Four. What's the new one?"

"Don't be daft," another voice said from inside. "We can hear his voice, and we know who it is. Besides, I'm Four—he's Three. If you insist on using these silly code names for the mission, at least get them right."

Number Three fought down the urge to kick in the door, but before he could complain, Two spoke again.

"Right, sorry about that mixup. What's the new password, Number Three?"

Another breeze kicked up, chilling Three to his core—what paltry amount of patience he had dwindled further.

"You didn't tell me the new password, Keith, now let me in before I freeze to death!"

"I must insist you use our correct names, Number Three, and if you don't know the password, I cannot admit you."

"Gods above, Keith," came the exasperated voice of Four. "Just open the door and let him in!"

Two harrumphed.

"There's a reason we're taking such care to protect our identities, and your blatant disregard for the rules is making me begin to doubt this entire endeav—"

The last vestige of Three's patience withered like a noble under questioning, and he started pounding on the door.

"Let me in, Keith, you administrative wind-knot! So help me Poseidon, I will cut every last one of your—"

The door swung open, and Four's arm reached out and pulled Three inside.

Three rushed to the small fireplace, extending his hands toward the licking flames. The warmth was pure bliss, and he let out a content sigh.

Two was pouting, leaning against the wall where Four had doubtless pushed him.

"I really don't see why it's so hard to follow the rules. We don't have that many to follow, and they're put in place for all of our safety..."

Another knock came on the door, and Two darted to it, no doubt reinvigorated by the mere thought of bureaucratic pedantry.

"Password?"

Three grit his teeth.

"For the love of—"

"Fresh tasty bread," the voice answered from outside.

"See?" Two demanded, scowling at both Three and Four as he opened the door. "This is how things are supposed to work."

Number One came inside, a broad grin plastered over his face.

"Good morning. Are we all ready to go...?" He looked around the room, his face going from elated to confused. "What's got everyone in such a dour mood? We're about to embark on the most important mission of our lives—show some enthusiasm!"

"They're ignoring protocols, One!" Two said. "It's chaos, I tell you! Absolute chaos!"

"Ah, I see." He walked over and clapped Two on the shoulder. "I know it's hard on you to bend the rules—forgive them, alright? We're all doing our best."

He took off a backpack and removed three robes, then threw one to everyone.

Three put his on; it was oversized, lined with fur, and decidedly more warm than the thin one he'd previously worn.

"Thank you, One."

"You’re most welcome."

Two still bristled, his impressive mustache making the pout look more than a little ridiculous.

"Has Five arrived yet?" One asked.

"No. Not yet. He is the one in charge of the cart—"

Another knock on the door.

"Fresh roasted bread," Five said from outside before anyone could demand a password.

"That's the wrong phrase," Two said, getting to his feet and crossing his arms.

"Close enough," One replied, swinging the door open to admit the last squad member.

A horse-drawn cart was on the street beyond, laden with supplies, and Three smiled at Five's organization skills.

"How did everyone go?" Five asked. "Did we get everything we needed?"

They all nodded.

"Alright, the cart is ready, so I think we're good to go. What about you, One?" Five's deep voice transformed into a whisper. "Did you get the artifact from the king?"

One beamed, reached into his backpack, and removed a small rectangular object.

"I did."

Three gazed down at it. It was something he'd only heard of before, but it was just as the tales told. There were two bulbs, one below the image of a human, the other beneath a series of animals. The first was blinking, likely responding to the cultivators within the capital.

"With this," One said, "we'll be able to locate the cultivator with ease."

Three grinned.

This trip to the village known as Tropica was going to be fun.

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