Heretical Fishing-Chapter 56Book 4: : Changing Course

Deep beneath the pristine waves of the Bluefathom Ocean, an ancient organism was lost in thought, all manner of considerations passing through his awareness. What events had transpired in this vast swathe of water while he’d slumbered? Was it still known by the same name, or were all records of it purged in the war? And what became of the dread armies…?

Given the importance of his task, some might assume he was being flippant, naïve, or arrogant—likely all three—by musing on such things. They were a comforting distraction, of course, but they also served a purpose. They facilitated the only reason he had survived so long: his legendary ability, which was the source of at least half the monikers he’d been known by.

Camouflage.

The being opened his eyes and stared down at where his own body should be, seeing only sand, shells, and ocean debris speeding past. Even his own midnight pupils and onyx sclera couldn’t detect any part of his impressive size. Before he returned to the world of his own mind, he glanced forward, taking in the silent landslide that was his oldest ally.

Though only meters before him, the conjoined elementals had no idea he was there. They raced along the abyssal plain, an unnatural avalanche of earth trailed by an organism of many-limbed duty. Hubris had always been his ally’s shortcoming, and it only got worse with each elemental they absorbed. They believed that their camouflage was greatest of all—that no other could possibly rival or surpass them.

Such arrogance…

He wanted to blow some mocking bubbles at that thought, but it would give his position away, so instead, he gathered his power, condensing a pocket of chi for a task that would soon arrive. Only two remain. His body slid across the ocean floor at the same pace as his quarry. Then I can know for sure…

He’d been trailing the elemental for hours, tracing their every move since they’d left that cavern of their own making. Unfortunately for the organism, with his ally’s arrogance also came paranoia. It was, at best, a thinly veiled way to preserve their ego—but by luck or design, that shortcoming was the very thing that’d let them outlast the gods.

They had traversed the ocean and hidden parts of themself all over, forcing each to hibernate until a later date. To the organism’s chagrin, he could sense their existence, but not their location. Every time he scanned for traces of their chi, only the main body responded.

There was only one way for him to complete his duty: he had to wait for them to rejoin once more.

Speaking of… he mused, sensing something approach.

In a matter of seconds, it arrived, and the splinter of singular consciousness launched itself forward. When it struck, the avalanche froze, even the smallest pebble of the earthen procession halting as the individual re-assimilated with the many. A moment later, the silent landslide resumed, a sense of anticipation coming from his oldest ally’s abomination of a core.

The organism, too, was excited. Only one more…

Over the following hours, that feeling of reinvigoration never diminished, only heightening with the passage of both leagues and time. Though he couldn’t perceive its location, he knew the final splinter was on its way—nothing short of destruction would stop its return.

But then more hours passed. Frustration slid in through cracks in his mind, robbing his eagerness of fuel. What was taking the last fragment so long? Minutes later, the answer arrived with a wave of essence that shot through the water and slammed into his oldest ally.

The one they’d been waiting on… it had been annihilated.

This realization and all its implications hit him like a mountain—but it hit the earth elemental even harder. They shook, no longer silent as their mass churned, boulders and rocks grinding against each other. The careful control keeping them together faltered, and the contents of their body oozed out alongside myriad emotions.

Hidden amongst the silt and stone, long crystals gleamed with purple light, their colorful auras illuminating the surroundings. When the organism spotted them, horrific spears of panic lanced his core, their deadly tips lodging deep within. As sure as he was that the moon was high above, he knew that, somehow, his oldest ally had ancient relics of the natural variety—ten of them.

Such a thing shouldn’t exist in this realm.

Essence leaked from around the metaphorical shafts still piercing his nexus of power. He had to regain composure. If he didn’t, his camouflage would fall apart, leaving him exposed. It was too soon; his pocket of condensed chi wasn’t ready yet.

He needed to imagine something. He was being too present. But no matter how hard he tried to force it, the reality before him was too visceral. Too dreadful. He couldn’t dismiss it. He was going to be discovered. He—

A giant bubble of divine power raced along the ocean floor, slamming into his head. His camouflage dropped completely. So did that of the earth elemental before him, all of their fragments abruptly splitting apart. If the organism had a pulse, it would have hammered throughout his body. He scrambled to recover, latching onto whatever he could to restart his ability.

Two things saved him from destruction. First, the object that had released divine chi gave him something else to focus on, his mind grasping it and the associated thoughts with white-limbed intensity. Second, when the elementals were pulled apart, they were left unconscious—just long enough for the ancient being’s camouflage to take hold.

There was a moment of stillness after he became invisible once more. It let him see his oldest ally as the individual he’d once been, rather than the grotesque amalgamation he had become. The organism experienced hundreds of thoughts over that insignificant stretch of time. They were as unique as they were numerous, but across them all, only one was an oath.

I will carry out my duty, old friend, he thought, twin waves of love and anguish flowing through him. This, I swear to you.

And then they were reforming, dozens upon dozens of individuals becoming the many. The instant their minds snapped together and their souls became singular again, they started moving. Their course had changed, but only slightly, and the organism knew where his oldest ally was now heading.

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An eleventh relic had appeared, and the earth elemental meant to claim it.

***

As a lone man gazed up at the crescent moon, its shape warped by the waves between himself and the celestial body, he let out a bubbled sigh. Maria was correct—Joel had been a complete fool.

Everything she’d said rang true in his mind, but it wasn’t her words alone that penetrated his thick, annoyingly fleshy skull. It was the look on his beloved deity’s face when the healing cultivator had grabbed him by the wrist and ankle, then launched him out to sea.

The church leader had seen Sergeant Snips make countless different expressions in the time he’d known her. Joy, sadness, rebuke—she was a very expressive crab. But shame? While gazing at him? The memory of it made his insides feel even squishier than they already were.

When he recognized he was falling into his old pattern of frustration, he released another sigh and kicked off the ocean floor, taking a deep breath when he surfaced. He’d been sitting in silent contemplation for hours, and had thought the lesson internalized… yet he fell right back into the same flawed way of thinking.

Despite his enhanced mind and body, fatigue had leached into his bones, the hours of self-reproach and meditation seeming to rob him of energy. He knew what was wrong—he had been a selfish prick, putting his own goals above the efforts and happiness of others—but what was the correct path from here?

… What was he to do?

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He gazed up at the moon above, its concave curves somehow calming. Joel let out a sigh. Perhaps it was time to return home and get some sleep. He could resume being ashamed in the morning—that thought made a smile tug at his lip, but it was short-lived.

Deciding to follow Maria’s earlier advice, he filled his lungs with air and dove to the sea floor, condensing chi so his body sank. The moment he adopted the perfect form, his hands forming fake clackers to either side of his head, the troubles assailing him seemed to retreat.

The leader of the Church of Carcinization slipped back into a meditative state with the ease of a hermit crab finding a bigger shell to call home. He settled into the present, relying on Fischer’s teachings about mindfulness from months ago. Joel had to return to his followers.

No, he thought. My friends.

This acknowledgement, the realization that his acolytes were more than just a congregation to be carcinized, made his core hum in agreement, and he focused in on it, a tidal wave of serenity crashing over his soul.

Unfortunately, his peace didn’t last long. He must have been a third of the way back to Tropica when he sensed a being so unexpected that it completely shattered his mindfulness. She was usually a source of joy; he’d sought her out only hours ago with dogged determination. Now, though, her presence humiliated him.

His flawless deity, the spike-covered crab known as Sergeant Snips, was just ahead. And there was something different in her aura—an added layer of complexity he couldn’t understand.

Joel paused, his face falling as he considered his options. He shouldn’t disturb her. What if she was out on official business, and his arrival ruined plans so intricate that he had no chance of comprehending them? He pictured that look of shame again, both her eyestalks visible and broadcasting disappointment for all to see.

In the end, his curiosity was too great, so he latched onto the hope she’d come to meet him. It would be an act of unrivalled disrespect to go around her after she came all this way, wouldn’t it? Even if it was only to administer punishment.

He scuttled forward as best he could on his stupidly awkward human feet, but as he crested a low rise, his steps faltered. Sergeant Snips wasn’t alone. She stood outside an underwater cavern, and a squad of rock crabs crowded around her, over thirty of them facing her and waiting for orders.

It wasn’t Snips that felt different; it was the inclusion of their chi making her seem changed. None of them had awakened into spirit beasts, yet one and all had essence running through them—they were on the precipice of forming cores.

He knew she had a squad of rock crabs watching the bay… but this many? Weren’t they numbered in the single digits? He rubbed his eyes, double checking that it wasn’t a side-effect of his exhaustion. As he gazed back out at the world, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Joel turned, blinking, to find a rock crab had snuck up on him. Its beady little eyestalks were filled with accusation, and it ran a claw on the patch of carapace under its mouth, miming the cutting of his throat.

Before he could react, a beautiful hiss flowed over the underwater landscape, ordering the scout to leave him be.

The aggressive crustacean immediately kowtowed. It snuck a peek at Joel, and seeing him still upright, shot him a disgusted look. He probably should have expected the whack on the head it delivered upon him a moment later, but his thoughts in his oversized-yet-inferior brain had slowed to a crawl.

Thankfully, the strike seemed to smack some sense into him, and he realized his mistake. In a rush, he pressed his forehead into the sand, seeking to apologize for his impropriety—but a mighty clacker caught him by the chin and lifted his face.

Sergeant Snips. None of the shame from earlier was present, her eyestalks holding something even worse. Sorrow.

He parted his lips to apologise, but she cut him off with a stream of air.

I know you blame yourself, her bubbles said. But you are wrong.

He blinked, not knowing what to say to that.

The fault is mine, Snips continued, bowing so low that her sturdy underside brushed the sand. I am sorry for failing you.

Joel’s brain malfunctioned. He wanted to refute her words. Wanted to take the blame. But that would be directly calling her wrong. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, his mind still restarting.

Snips blew a string of happy bubbles, shaking her carapace in amusement as she patted his shoulder with a massive clacker.

Come on, she said. Everyone is here now.

He cocked his head in question, but she just turned and scuttled back toward the cavern entrance. Sheepishly, he followed, her order overriding his shame. Another tap on his shoulder. He turned to the right, and the crab that had threatened him earlier give him an I’m watching you gesture with its perfectly shaped claw.

Thankfully, a hiss from Snips rang out before he had a chance to reply.

Thank you for coming, everyone. I believe I have failed each of you—no, do not deny it. Listen, please.

The crustaceans saluted, and Joel followed suit, some of those around him shaking their heads at his delay.

I believe I have failed each of you, Snips repeated. Today, I mean to rectify that.

How, master? the violent rock crab asked.

She stood tall, tilted her carapace in thought, then shrugged and blew a torrent of amused bubbles. I don’t know, but I think we should start by meditating. Would you please take the lead, Joel?

He blinked, and she nodded, gesturing for him to begin. He had no right to instruct those possessing the perfect form, yet her request left him no other option. Accepting his face, Joel squatted, wiggled until he found the correct position, and slipped into a state of mindfulness.

As his pulse slowed, his mind growing calm, the Church of Carcinization’s leader forgot all about his feelings of inadequacy.