Heretical Fishing

Book 3: Chapter 33: Crabby

As George watched the spirit beast, he got the inkling that it was suffering from delusions of grandeur. He swallowed, his throat feeling dry.

Something was wrong.

It was hard for him to place exactly what it was, but he got the sense it wasn’t the mere existence of a powerful spirit beast. That, surprisingly, didn’t seem to bother him much. It was an odd sensation, but the longer he examined his internal state, the more sure he became it was something else worrying him. That he perceived the awakened beast as suffering from delusions of grandeur was just as surprising. It was a fabled beast of legend, a creature that, even in his wildest dreams, he’d never expected to encounter.

This ‘Sergeant Snips’ had every right to see herself as above them. And yet, it still felt wrong, as if the beast was being presumptuous.

George glanced over at Geraldine, seeing his confusing mix of emotions reflected in her gaze. She chewed the inside of her lip, and he gave her the smallest of nods, communicating that he felt the same.

The crab held a claw to its mouth, cleaning the orange appendage with its undulating mouth. The moment it was finished, it stepped back and gestured at the fish they’d caught and cooked.

It blew a stream of bubbles that George somehow understood the meaning of.

Eat.

It wanted them to consume the fish.

George’s gaze flicked down to the cooking fish as he turned his attention away from the spirit beast. When they had originally caught it, he’d been disgusted. Joel had encouraged them all to touch it, and when George and Geraldine had done so, George’s disgust had only increased.

The thing was covered in a slippery, translucent film.

It had a smell to it as well that reminded him of the ocean, but not the pleasant smell of salt spray. It had the same odor as washed up seaweed left to rot in the sun. As George thought back on the fetid scent, it made the delicious smell now filling the air even more confusing. Savory notes had flooded out from the fish the moment it started cooking, and with each passing second, it seemed to grow even stronger.

Geraldine squeezed his arm, drawing his eyes from the meal. She stared at the pan in the fire, her jaw moving subconsciously.

“Can we…?” she asked, her gaze locked on the fatty liquids bubbling from the fish.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” he whispered back. “Even if we did, though…”

“You want to taste it,” she finished.

He grimaced, embarrassed that she had seen through him so easily, but she shook her head. “I also want to. It smells…”

“Delicious…” Joel said, his tone reverent. He sat up, and George wondered if he was finally done bowing.

He was not.

Joel slammed his body back down to the sand, only having sat upright so he could bow all the way down again. “Thank you, great spirit beast! You have blessed this food with your very essence. There is no other explanation for the scent wafting from this fish. We, your loyal followers, are unworthy of your graciousness.”

The spirit beast preened, clearly enjoying the praise. It blew bubbles that were… pleased? Then, it pointed back down at the food.

Eat, it demanded again, some of its pride still leaking through.

The members of the cult-turned-church shuffled forward, keeping their heads lowered while pulling themselves closer to the fire. George and Geraldine did the same, not wanting to offend the ascendant creature.

They had gathered fan-shaped shells, and Joel passed them around. As one, every human present used one to cut into the fish. George had thought he’d need to slice through the flesh, expecting it to be as tough as any other animal’s meat.

He was wrong.

The moment his shell touched the fish, its flesh fell apart. It sloughed off in small chunks and fell into the juices collecting in the pan. George had thought the scent earlier was good, but the vapor rising from within the fish was heavenly.

All seven of them froze for a moment, as shocked as each other at the fish’s texture and the scents coming from it. Joel was the first to snap out of it. He slid his shell under a smattering of the flakey bits, and as he lifted them out of the pan, fatty oil dripped down onto his open palm, positioned so he wasted not a drop. Licking his lips, George copied Joel, as did the others. Their shells scraped softly against the metal pan, and a moment later, all seven of them were ready.

Eat, the spirit beast hissed, more insistent than ever.

It wasn’t necessary, though. George’s mouth was watering, and based on everyone else’s expressions, so were theirs. As one, they raised the shells to their lips and had their first ever taste of fish. Before the white meat even made it to his tongue, a still-dripping oil found his taste buds. They washed over it, turning his salivary glands into faucets. It was so salty that it was almost unpleasant, right on the borderline of being too much.

But then the fish came.

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He bit down into the handful of small chunks, their fibers easily parting as he chewed. More juices came from the meat, hot and pleasant. The flavor contained within was unremarkable on its own, perhaps a little unsavory. Combined with the salty oil, however, the disparate tastes danced over one another, building to become something greater.

George’s eyes watered, the flavors assaulting his awareness all-encompassing. The muscles of his mouth twitched as he swallowed, almost as if his body wasn’t ready to relinquish the blessed ingredients gracing his tongue. After swallowing, he released a shaky breath, then inhaled through his nose, knowing how to enhance any lingering tastes after a lifetime spent consuming sugary treats.

It was almost as delicious as the mouthful itself, his consciousness crying out for more of the food. Another sensation came, then. It was something... foreign. He’d definitely never experienced it before, yet something in the back of his mind recognized it. He sat frozen for a long moment, his mind racing to recall where he knew this warm and welcome feeling from.

Try as he might, it didn’t come.

Suddenly, it felt like it was coming from all around him, not only from within. It blanketed over his entire body like a hug from a loved one. Even more confused, he opened his eyes, seeking to understand what was happening. The fire was burning brighter than before, casting its light over all those present.

“George!”

The fear in Geraldine’s voice made adrenaline course through him, and he spun her way, half expecting the crab to have attacked. She was staring wide-eyed across the fire, whatever she saw there filling her with terror. His heart raced as he whirled back. He had just been looking there and had seen nothing to warrant such a reaction.

The spirit beast had appeared before the former cultists. Its claws were held high above it, slowly opening and closing in what George took for victorious posture. For some reason, the creature seemed... dim? He narrowed his eyes, growing more confused by the second. How could a campfire light the cultists, yet not a crab that was closer to it?

“The glow...” he said aloud, verbally processing the impossible sight. “It’s coming from them...”

He had assumed the fire’s light had grown, but that wasn’t it. An orange light shone from the five humans, radiating from their position and illuminating the surrounding sands. George and Geraldine stood up on wobbling legs, getting a better view of the surroundings. She reached out, grasping for his hand, and when she found it, their fingers intertwined. Though she was always his lodestone, their contact did nothing to ease George’s mind.

The glow was getting brighter, and as it did, the sensation from earlier returned. It wasn’t coming from the outside world—it was coming from five glowing humans sitting before him. The mighty crab, whom Joel had called Sergeant Snips, blew encouraging bubbles, urging them on. Being eager servants, they obeyed, getting brighter and brighter.

The light also got more orange. So dark that it was on the borderline of turning red, it resembled the rising sun, bringing with it just as much warmth as that celestial body. George squeezed Geraldine’s hand, completely lost in the miraculous occurrence unfolding before their eyes. He thought it couldn’t get any more surprising.

But then the pulse of power flew out from all of them, its wondrous form making a shiver of ecstasy run through his entire body. He shuddered, the sensation making him lose touch with the world. When his body came to, he put a twitching hand down to his side, finding sand. He’d fallen back down to the ground when the wave struck him. Geraldine was right beside him, and they exchanged a glance before staring back at the others.

The spirit beast stood with its claws raised high and held all the way open, frozen as it cast its gaze over Joel and the rest of the former cultists. It seemed to be waiting for something. The glow was gone from Joel and the others now, but that same sensation was there, matching the one coming from George’s stomach.

Joel’s eyes were distant. All at once, he shook his head, his vision focusing once more and settling on the spirit beast. “Please choose a name? Does that mean…”

Two explosions rang out, so strong that George and Geraldine were blown backwards. He braced himself and hunched down so he didn’t get sent skidding across the sand.

***

After the first two, Rocky sent a few more celebratory blasts out for good measure.

It had worked.

A single day was all it had taken. A single glorious day, and his genius plan had already borne fruit. He stared out at the newly awakened, measuring the strength of their cores. They were moderately stronger than others upon ascension, and more importantly, they still held that hint of crabby goodness. Though their touch of crab-like chi was only a fraction of their essence, it was enough. It proved that they were loyal to him.

He momentarily considered going to Fischer and showing off immediately, but then he... what was it that Fischer said? Snip it in the butt? Yeah, that sounded right. He snipped the thought in the butt, excising it from his awareness.

Though they were loyal to Rocky, they were still freshly awakened. If he waited even a week, they would have more time to gain power, and that would make the reveal all the sweeter.

“We... we are cultivators?” Jess asked, licking her lips.

“Are we truly?” Joel asked, his eyes fervent as he stared at Rocky.

Yes, Rocky hissed.

“Thank you, great spirit beast!” Joel yelled, throwing his forehead to the sand. “This is only the beginning of your church, and I vow that we will assist in your ascension to the heavens!”

The others made the same gesture, echoing his sentiments.

Rocky hissed with laughter, holding his claws high once more. This was exactly what he had wanted—what he deserved. Forget waiting. He wanted to show Fischer now. That would show the foolish man. So what if they hadn’t gained much power? They were his followers—his church—and that fact alone should be enough to drive fear into the spine of Rocky’s rival.

Come, he ordered, gesturing back toward the ocean, but froze when he spun. He’d completely forgotten about the other two humans, the lord and his wife. They hadn’t ascended yet, which was why his vastly superior mind had banished them from thought. Now matter that they hadn’t attained enlightenment yet—it was only a matter of time. Should he leave them here, though?

Nope.

He could show Fischer that he has regular human followers, too. That would only further cement Rocky’s position as a rival god.

Come, Rocky ordered again, striding between the two failures. He cut a palm tree down with a single strike on his way to the water, then gestured for the two unascended to grab hold of it. Annoyingly, they looked at each other instead of immediately obeying.

Rocky would have to beat that out of them.

Luckily for them, they nodded to each other and stepped forward, following him down to the water. Rocky leaped in, and the seven humans followed, the lord and his wife grasping the trunk. With the end of a palm tree held in one claw and glee fueling his passage, Rocky took off across the bay, his newly awakened followers easily keeping up.

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