Heretical Fishing-Chapter 44Book 4: : The Perfect Ratio

Standing tall, I breathed as deep as I could. A brisk easterly had blown in from nowhere. Waves crashed against the ship’s hull and threw particles of salty water into the air, their scent washing over my awareness and restoring the sense of calm that was never too far away when you lived in Tropica.

The taste of salt hit my tongue, which made me recall my time fishing back on Earth. I’d just been a regular human then. A man with more troubles than I knew what to do with. Despite my lack of a core, the smell of the ocean had been a source of absolute mindfulness—a presence that scoured away all but the most persistent of worries.

Even more relaxing, however, was the act of fishing. It demanded your full attention. There were countless sources of distraction, of course: wind, waves, and the warming sun beaming down on your shoulders. Through them all, one had to keep a part of their mind on the finger touching the line—you just never knew when a fish would come along and have a nibble, after all.

It was an odd time to reminisce on such things, but the reason for their return was obvious. We stood on the precipice of an adventure—of a new frontier that we were about to explore for ourselves.

Despite how skilled I’d gotten at keeping my senses constrained, Bonnie’s core was screaming out to me—it seemed to be doing its best to vibrate right out of her body. I glanced back, seeing her keen excitement reflected on the faces of everyone else. Fergus, Duncan, Steven, Ruby, Theo, Deklan, Barry, and Paul. Including Bonnie and I, we were ten cultivators—a nice round number for the ship’s maiden voyage. Cats were good luck on such endeavors, but I didn’t have one yet, so I’d brought Borks and Cinnamon along instead.

Bonnie’s chi called out to me again, vibrating as I harnessed all the members of this trip in place. The intoxicating nature of her core wasn’t exactly surprising—adventure was her literal purpose in life. Her breakthrough had confirmed it. With one last look at the effect her emotions were having on everyone else, I turned toward the front of the ship, gazing at the eastern horizon over top of the bow.

I took another breath of salty air. Its freshness filled me with vigor, which I then channeled into my chi, securing my pals to the deck just in case. When my essence touched Borks, I asked a single question in his mind. He confirmed that he’d succeeded last night, giving me the slightest of nods, which he hid with a big yawn. I had to consciously hide the joy his answer sparked within my core.

“Well, gang,” I said. “There’s only one last thing to do.”

Maria, who stood on the deck with Helen, gave a playful roll of her eyes. “I know you and Barry are terrified of being without us, but you can’t just keep making up excuses.”

“No, no, this is the most important part of a new ship—a tradition as old as sailing! I’m honestly surprised that none of you have brought it up.”

Maria frowned; she could sense my sincerity. “Okay, I’m lost.”

I raised a hand high, pretended to gather power, then shot it to the side and into a small portal Borks opened just in time. Within, I found one of his many objectives from last night, and I beamed as I pulled it out. Borks immediately closed the gateway, sealing his dimensional space.

I held out the bottle of wine, its glass and red contents gleaming in the light. “We, my dear friends, must name and christen this ship!”

I expected some oooh’s in response, perhaps even some aaah’s. Instead, I was met with a long silence.

“Okay,” Maria eventually said, “we’re not dumb, Fischer. If you are that desperate to name things that you’re gonna start giving them to inanimate objects, just say that’s what you want to do. There’s no need to make up obviously fake traditions.”

“Wait, what?” I looked around, and the looks on everyone’s faces mirrored Maria’s. “You guys seriously haven’t heard of this?”

“No,” came their long suffering answers, only my animals pals and Paul looking excited about the prospect.

I blew air through my lips, reached for some scattered memories, and showed them the truth.

Maria blinked as her gaze refocused a moment later. “Well I’ll be. I would have sworn you were lying about that one.”

“Nope!”

“What are you gonna call it?” Paul asked, his eyes aglow with the possibilities. “Something to match how cool it looks?”

Deciding there was no point in delaying further, I launched the bottle, and as it shattered against the the chain railing, I screamed the ship’s name for the entire village to hear. Before the shards of glass could fall into the ocean, I crushed them between strands of chi, grinding them into dust.

That single word I’d let out seemed to shake the deck, and whispers of power settled into the woodgrain, moving to become a part of the ship. I braced myself for some sort of transformation, wondering how it would affect my plans, but nothing happened.

Two small hands grabbed me by the cheeks, and Maria turned my head, forcing me to face her.

“I love you, but that was your worst name yet.”

“What? Why? It’s thematic, sharp, and to the point.”

“How is the name Bob thematic for a boat? It’s…” she trailed off, slowly turning toward me as realization struck. “Why are you like this?”

“Gods above,” Ruby swore, similarly struck by knowledge.

The others just looked confused. Poor Paul’s head darted back and forth in a frenzy, his brow only creasing further with each second that no explanation came.

Before he could give himself a concussion, I rested a hand on his shoulder. “What does wood do in water?”

“Uhhh, it floats?”

“Some would say that, mate.” I gave an exaggerated wink. “Others would say that it bobs.”

“Oh! Bob the boat!”

A series of groans rose from everyone else, but there were just as many snorts and amused noises—the perfect ratio, if you asked me.

Maria leaned in, kissed me on the mouth, then pulled back and stared into my eyes. “I really do love you, but I need to go. I’ll be reconsidering our marriage while you were gone.” Without another word, she petted both Borks and Cinnamon, then leaped away.

Helen shook her head at me, pecked Barry on the lips and Paul on the forehead, and departed in the same manner.

I sent Maria my affection, returning the torrent she’d been pouring my way even as she claimed she needed to rethink our future. “Ready when you are, Trent!”

As all present were secured to the deck by my chi, I could partially perceive their emotions, only the strongest making it through my defenses. Those coming from the former prince were overwhelming. Long gone was the mountain of duty that caused him to spend every waking hour searching for a way to cure his family. Maria’s breakthrough and subsequent bonding of a healing familiar had taken that pressure from his shoulders, and in the wake of such a burden, Bonnie’s enthusiasm was taking root.

Trent’s anticipation and hope built and built, becoming so strong that I had to stop focusing on his emotions, lets they smother mine. Even with a shell raised around me, I could feel Bonnie spurring him on, her gaze intense as she felt him reciprocating her resolve.

Without another word, Trent reached for his core, grasped hold of his flames, and poured a thin stream of will into the engine’s spout. The construct whirred, drank deep of his chi, then changed it into something more.

***

Maria stood on the sandy shore, delighting in how happy everyone was. She had assumed she would be a little sad watching them go. After all, she did love fishing. But as she felt Trent reach for his flames and pour them down into the boat’s propulsion system, all she could feel was her own sense of excitement—she finally had the power to heal all those trapped in Tropica’s prison.

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As the conflagration churned within the rear of the ship, amplifying in potency on its way out of the claw-shaped exhaust, she felt a wave of gratitude so potent that it eclipsed any she could remember.

It wasn’t for anyone onboard, however. Nor was it for the creation of the vessel, which would facilitate all sorts of adventures in the future. It wasn’t for the annoyingly amusing name Fischer had given it, and it wasn’t for the life-giving sun that shone above.

This gratitude, stronger than any she’d felt in recent memory, was because she not strapped to the deck when flames bigger than a house shot from Bob the boat.

Dom had remained behind as a safety precaution; his core was capable of shielding the citizens should some unforeseen shenanigans come to pass. But who could have guessed that their departure would be the source of said shenanigans?

The man held his arms wide, and a shield appeared that was even bigger than the teardrop-shaped inferno flaring toward them. One second, the ship was there. The next, it was rocketing over the horizon, sailing above the ocean rather than on it.

“Uhhh,” Maria said as they disappeared from sight. “Are they gonna be okay…?”

Dom, peering down at the flat slab of molten glass that now ran along the waterline, shook his head. “When Fischer is involved, the only thing in danger is their sensibilities. I’m just glad Helen wasn’t here to see—”

He’d spoken too soon. A torrent of words you’d never expect to hear from Helen came flying over the dunes, cutting off Dom’s sentence. Paul’s mother stood up three peaks back as her tirade increased in both pitch and vigour. Maria stored some of the insults away for later use on her beloved—she wouldn’t even have to swap his name in; it was already there.

***

As we sailed over the ocean, wind rushed past me, whipping the hair on my head into a chaotic mess. Such an occurrence was usually a source of mindfulness. A calming sensation I could focus on to ground myself in the present. But given the fact my brand new boat was currently flying hundreds of meters above the sea, flames still rocketing from the propulsion system, I didn’t really feel up to meditating.

“Trent!” I called. “Feel free to stop feeding chi into it! I think we’ve gotten far enough!”

“I stopped almost immediately! A quarter of my power remains below!”

“Oh!Good! I was worried we wouldn’t go halfway across the globe!”

“I’m sensing some sarcasm!” Barry yelled. “Can you confirm, Theo?”

“Definitely sarcasm!”

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Ruby unleashed a breathless laugh, the sound as beautiful as the sun we seemed to be sailing toward. Deklan had shielded everyone with his chi, the protective properties of his essence somehow even able to defend against the force of acceleration. It was the only reason I hadn’t immediately portalled half the people present—especially Ruby—back onto dry land.

With the angle of our trajectory, we couldn’t even see the ocean, only open sky and a rising sun visible over the railing of our boat-turned-aeroplane. When the flames finally died, I pressed down on the front deck. The entire vessell tilted. The sun shifted above. And the blessed sea, its depths a deeper blue than I’d seen on this world, came into view.

In every direction, it was all we could see. Not even a spec of land was visible in this stretch of sea, and as it seemed to rush up to meet us, I prepared layers of chi around the hull. There were dozens upon dozens, each growing larger and thinner. I kept going, only stopping when one became so thin that the shifting wind made it break.

It had taken all of my focus to build them, but maintaining them was easy, so I returned to the present, holding the layers in place with a single partition, and what I found made butterflies take flight within me. Everyone was hooting and hollering, so I joined in, not caring how my whooping sounded to the outside world.

And then we struck. My layers were obliterated, destroyed by the force Bob meeting the water’s surface—but that was the point. By the time the last broke, a foot of ocean peeked above the side of the deck, held at bay by a solid wall of my light. Like a rubber ducky forced underwater by an overeager toddler, we bobbed back up—heh—and water splashed everywhere as we landed once more.

“All hands on deck!” I called, enjoying myself way too much as I removed the tendrils holding everyone down. “How did the rods fare?”

“Secure!” Paul yelled, giving me a thumbs up from the open door to the cabin.

“Bait?”

Theo pinched his nose as he looked up from the barrel of eel. “Stinky, Captain!”

“Tackle?”

“Here!” Fergus had already removed it from his bag and set it down on the deck.

Borks, well, borked as he opened a portal. Cinnamon coated herself in chi, flew inside, kicked the secondary tackle box out, and reemerge. The door immediately closed behind her.

“Uh, Fischer?” Bonnie asked. “Why didn’t you just put all of it in Borks’s personal space?”

“To keep things sporting, of course!”

Theo, who was leaning far back from the now-open barrel of eel, frowned at my words. He raised a brow and tilted his head in question.

I flashed a grin and shot him a wink as I strode past, heading for the cabin and the rods held within. “I don’t know about you guys, but I might implode if I don’t wet a line soon.”

Paul started handed me rod after rod, which I chucked toward my pals, their enhanced reflexes meaning none of the precious object were at risk of falling. When Ruby caught hers, she passed it to Steven. I smiled, the small show of affection making my heart happy. But then I passed a second rod to her, and she passed it to him again. And another. And another.

“Okay, what gives?” I nodded at Steven, who was now wrestling with four of them. “Are you not fishing, Ruby?”

She giggled and shook her head, the way her hair flicked making me think of Maria. “Of course I am. I’m just waiting for my rod.”

“... Your rod?”

I raised an eye at Paul, who furrowed his brow and dashed into the cabin. “Oh!” he said from within, returning a moment later with a... fishing rod?

I blinked at what was clearly a joke at my expense. The ‘rod’ drew my eyes in.

Sewing Rod of the Tailor

Rare

This rod doubles as a tool for both fishing and tailoring. Though appearing to be crocheted, this instrument is as strong and flexible as it needs to be, able to both hold tension when sewing or reeling in a fish. Adds half of the users tailoring skill to their fishing skill, or vice versa, depending on the activity being undertaken.

When my vision cleared, I raised both eyebrows at Ruby, who wore one of the smuggest grins I’d ever seen. “We’ve not been sitting around doing nothing, Fischer.”

“Aye,” Steven agreed. “It took days, but we had the time to spare.”

I took a step forward, my hand reaching out of its own accord, but I forced myself to stop. “May I?”

“Of course!”

Ruby held it out, and as I ran my hand over the handle, my brain and eyes told me two different things. Even under the scrutiny of my enhanced vision, it looked like a crocheted toy. Beneath my fingers though, it was like interwoven wood, strong despite the gaps betwen the ‘string’. I withdrew. “That thing is breaking my head. Congratulations, and I hate it.”

Ruby snorted and pulled her Sewing Rod of the Tailor closer. “It certainly takes some getting used to—that’s for sure. But the benefits...” A gleam entered her eyes. “I don’t know how I ever sewed things without it.”

“We’ve not had a chance to use it for fishing,” Steven added. “So, when we heard about your little trip...”

Ruby’s smile turned predatory. “How could we pass up the opportunity?”

“Well,” I said. “I’m glad you came along, even if it was only to try your rod.”

“Me too! The passage here alone made it worth it!” Ruby moved to the larger tackle box, but as she stared down at the different hooks and sinkers, she cocked her head. “I just realized that I don’t know what setup we should use from a boat?”

“It’s similar to the paternoster rig,” I replied. “You remember how to tie it?”

“Remember? It was the first you ever showed us!”

“Perfect.” I went over to the other tackle box—the one stored within Borks’s dimensional space—and retrieved the necessary bits and pieces for my rod. “The only difference between the normal paternoster and the one we’ll be using is... why are you all looking at me like that?”

Theo cleared his throat. “Are you compensating for something with that hook, Fischer?”

I glanced down at the hook, its metal as thick as my finger, then back up at Theo. “Given that you can tell if I’m lying, the only safe bet is to not answer that.”

This drew a laugh from everyone but Paul, who just looked confused. Before he could question what we were all talking about, I forged onward. “Right. So tie the main line to the eye of a swivel, then tie a meter of thick line to the other eye. Create the hoops for your hooks here—I reckon two is a good number.”

They followed along, Paul helped by Cinnamon, who pointed at the two spots he should create loops.

“Awesome. Here’s where it gets a little different...” I grabbed the thinnest line we had. “Short of reinforcing this with chi, if you tied your hook to this line, anything bigger than two-or-three kilos would snap off. We’ll be attaching sinkers with it, which will be at the very bottom of the rig. Does anyone know why we’re using this weaker line on purpose?”

A sea of confused faces met me. Theo was the first to work it out, as befitted the fishing fanatic. “Oh! Do you think there might be rocks below us?”

“Got it in one, my man. We’re going to drop our lines until they touch the bottom, then reel them up a tiny bit. If there are rocks, corals, or anything else that can snag us, it’ll likely be the sinker getting caught on them. The line being thin—and the knot being weak—means they’ll be the fault points.”

Theo nodded. “It saves most of our equipment and reduces our chances of polluting. Brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

“The rig, not you.”

I barked a laugh and bent to pet Borks, whose golden-haired tail swished back and forth over the deck. “That’s fair—I didn’t think of the setup myself.”

It took little time to finish attaching out hooks, and even less to bait them. When I was done, I swung my rod over the water, flicked the reel open, and let it free spool. My excitement returned as meter after meter disappeared into the abyss, and I couldn’t help but imagine the weird and whacky creatures that might live in the depths below.

If they were down there, I’d find them. Of that, I was sure.