Haylock
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89 - The Church
🕑 Added 2023-08-16 08:37:58 +0000 UTCRuby sat behind the counter of her shop, struggling to keep her eyes open as she repaired the stitching in a shirt.
Two nights ago, she and Steven had spoken with Brad and Greg early into the morning, and following their conversation, she'd lay awake until the sun peeked through her drawn curtains.
Last night had been a repeat of the previous one, and two nights of no sleep was catching up with her.
Steven had got some sleep, at least, but the old grouch was non-functional on six hours' sleep, let alone two.
"Good morning, Ruby."
She lazily glanced up, drawn from her introspection.
"Hey, Sharon." She covered her mouth as she yawned. "What can I do for you?"
"I need to speak to you and Steven for a bit. Do you think you could follow me?"
Ruby, even in her sleep-deprived state, cocked her head in confusion.
"What about?"
"... it's about Fischer."
A spike of adrenaline shattered Ruby's fatigue, and she stood up straight.
"What about him?"
"I think it needs to be spoken of in private... would you come with me? There are others waiting for us."
"Steven!" Ruby called.
"Yes?" his lethargic voice responded from the other room.
"Get out here, you big grump. We have places to be."
***
As Ruby stepped into the woodworking shed, some of Ruby's building anxiety fled.
Was it Brad and Greg that organized this...?
After she and Steven entered, the door close behind them.
She spun just in time to see Barry engage the deadbolt, stopping anyone else from entering.
"What's going on?" she asked, looking around the room.
She caught sight of Brad and Greg, and when she saw the confused looks on their faces, her anxiety bloomed once more.
“Thank you for coming,” Barry said. “Sharon and I wanted to talk to you four."
"You said you wanted to speak about Fischer," Brad said. He cleared his throat. "What about, may I ask?"
Barry nodded.
"I'll cut straight to the point. We know you suspect Fischer of being a cultivator."
Everyone present at the meeting last night glanced at each other, and Ruby saw her shock mirrored on their faces.
"And how do you know that, Barry?" Greg asked. The woodworker's gaze didn't hold fear; it held fury. "Have you been spying on us?"
"Yes. Well, I haven't personally, and it was the entire village being watched, not just you, but I guess that's beside the point."
Barry took a deep breath and gave them a kind smile.
"You're half correct. Fischer is a cultivator, but not just a cultivator."
Greg firmed his jaw.
"Explain."
"I will, but first, I need you to promise you won't scream."
Greg slipped a chisel from his belt and held it to his side.
"And why would we scream, Barry?"
Barry held up both hands, showing empty palms in a placating gesture.
"Only because it's shocking, Greg. You won't be hurt."
Greg snorted.
“What could startle us enough to scream? We're grown men and women, Barry. You just told us Fischer was a cultivator, and we all held our composure, did we not?”
Barry raised an eyebrow, but nodded in acceptance.
"Fair enough. Look up, then."
They did—someone screamed.
***
At the rather feminine scream that tore from Brad, Barry struggled not to laugh.
He had to admit it was understandable; Greg was directly beneath Pistachio, only half a meter from the leviathan crustacean's head.
Pistachio sat on the loft above, and he raised one giant claw in greeting.
As planned, Claws and Snips dropped from the rafters. The former landing in Barry's arms, the latter landing in Sharon's.
"This," Barry said, "is Corporal Claws. That's Sergeant Snips, and the awakened lobster waving at you is Private Pistachio."
Corporal Claws chirped, nodding her greeting. Barry scratched her head, and she leaned into it, purring with joy.
Sergeant Snips blew a steam of happy bubbles, waving one claw at the four strangers.
All of them leaned back, and Ruby sat back on a stool.
A long silence stretched as they stared around the room, horror clear on their faces.
Ruby spoke first.
"What... what’s going on, Barry?"
He smiled at her.
"Fischer is a cultivator, and these are creatures he has caused to ascend. They are all friendly, reliable, and serve him directly."
A silence washed over the crowd, and seeing they were too shocked to speak, Barry continued.
"I said Fischer isn't just a cultivator, right? Do any of you know what a traveler is?"
Steven gulped.
"A traveler... like from the stories...?"
Barry grinned.
"You've heard of them? Good, that makes it easier to explain. For anyone that doesn't know, a traveler is someone from another world."
Brad blinked rapidly, leaning back against a bench.
"You're saying Fischer is from another world...?"
"That's impossible," Greg said. "You really expect us to believe such madness?"
Barry nodded.
"I get it—you're understandably confused, but let me explain. Travelers were said to be a relatively common occurrence before the gods fled, but given they left so long ago, the world has forgotten about them. I only knew of their existence because of bedtime stories my mother told me, and until I met Fischer, I assumed it was just that—a tale for adolescents. Now, though... I believe it to be true. Fischer is a traveler."
Greg started shaking his head, but then his eyes shot to the creatures, and it stilled.
"That would explain his odd manner of speaking..." Steven said, his eyebrows knitted. "But, if it's true, how did he get here? If they haven't existed since the gods departed... why has he shown up now?"
Barry shrugged.
"No clue. Travelers are said to be chosen for their ability to change the world around them. I have no idea what changing the world around them means, but I feel like the three creatures before you are a prime example."
On cue, they hissed, chirped, bubbled, and waved, once more announcing the irrefutable proof of their existence.
"Not only that," Barry said. "But he's impacted humans, too. You all heard of Sharon's miraculous recovery, right?"
They nodded, all their eyes wide.
"I thought that was because of the medicine you made...?" Ruby asked.
"That's half true; I made medicine using sugarcane Fischer grew. It caused Sharon to awaken and become a cultivator, which healed her illness."
Greg dropped the chisel from his hand, its metal clatter the only sound in the building.
Barry understood their shock, and he gave them a kind smile.
"Would you mind showing them, Sharon?"
Nodding, she picked up a thick piece of lumber and, with a casual movement, snapped it over her knee.
Steven's legs gave out, and he sat on the floor, staring up at the two pieces of wood.
"Why are you telling us this...?"
"That's simple! Corporal Claws here has been watching Tropica, keeping an eye out on the citizens. She overheard your conversations the last couple of nights, and she came and told me."
Greg clenched his jaw, and his nostrils flared.
"What are you going to do to us?" he asked, his voice shaking.
Barry's head rocked back, and after a moment, he let out a laugh.
"You've gotten the wrong idea. That's my fault, sorry. I should have led with this."
He looked at them all, feeling trust for each and every one.
"We want you to join the Church of Fischer."
***
The sun was just rising over the ocean as we approached.
The scene, combined with Maria's presence and the events of the morning, left my chest light, my awareness unburdened.
I took a deep breath, and as the cool air passed my nose, an immense sense of gratitude washed over me.
"It's beautiful..." Maria said.
I glanced at her. She'd closed her eyes and was basking in the sun's warmth.
"It really is," I said.
I crouched down, snipping the small tackle from the rod's line and tying on the larger hook and sinker I used for beach fishing.
After slipping on a chunk of eel, I held out the rod to her.
"Would you do the honors?"
She opened her eyes, her gaze half-lidded after her moment of mindfulness, and she grinned at me.
"I’d love to."
She took it, flicked the reel open and held the line firm to the rod, then turned to me.
"How far do I cast it?"
"As far as you like. Cast as hard as you can—the rod won't break."
She grinned and held the rod over a shoulder, gathering strength. All at once, she flung it forward. The rod flexed with the movement, and as it extended forward, the tip flicked out.
The hook and sinker flew high, arcing over the ocean and landing past the rolling waves with a soft plop.
"Nice cast," I said, raising an eyebrow.
She smiled at me.
"You would have said that regardless."
"You're right," I said with a laugh. "I would have, but that really was a good cast. Reel the line in so it's tight, and wait for the fish to come."
She did so, and we both sat down. I luxuriated in the sand beneath me, the sound of waves softly crashing, and the small gusts of air that whipped past me, tickling my skin.
"I have something to confess, Fischer..."
I didn't open my eyes, enjoying the sun's rays too much.
"What is it?"
"... promise you won't get mad?"
I did open my eyes this time, and I shot a look at her. She was apprehensive, her eyes averted.
"I promise I won't get mad."
She paused for a long moment, then spoke in a hushed tone.
"I told my mom about you being a cultivator. I'm sorry, I was just so excited when I got home, and you can trust her with your secret. We tell each other everything, it's—"
"Oh, that's all?" I interrupted, laughing. "No worries."
Her head darted toward me, her eyebrows raised.
"You're really not angry...?"
"Yeah, that's all good. I told you because I trust you, and you told her because you can trust her, right? I don't know Sharon that well, but I think I've gauged her enough to know she wouldn't go sharing that information—especially if it came from you."
She stared at me for a long moment.
"You are so weird."
Her tone held no accusation or insult, so I laughed again.
"Yeah, I see that as a feature, though. Who wants to be normal? You're pretty weird yourself."
She giggled, covering her mouth with a hand.
"I guess I am, considering I'm happily fishing next to a cultivator right now."
I went to say something else, but the rod jerked in the corner of my eye.
Maria's body tensed; she'd felt the bite. She got to her feet, moving the rod so the line didn't jerk.
The tip bounced again as the fish had another taste.
I didn't instruct her; I trusted her with striking when the time was right.
Maria's eyes focused on the rod, and she held the shaft with a firm grip.
It jerked one more time, and then the fish struck.
Maria pulled the rod up immediately to set the hook, and the battle began.
She made an excited noise, and my soul sang in response, feeling second-hand excitement for what she was experiencing.
"O-oh!" she said. "It's big!"
The rod was bent almost in half, and as the fish tried to swim away, the rod swayed and pulled with shakes of its head.
It tried to swim away, but she kept it in place, winding to bring it closer to the shore.
It swam to the left, to the right, then back to the left, but with each passing second, Maria brought it closer and closer.
I squinted at the fight, suspecting it might be a new species—I'd not seen a fish move the way it had.
As it got close to the shore, it took one last desperate run, but Maria brought it up short. I saw a flash of silver in a wave, and my eyes went wide—it was big!
With Maria's efforts, and the sturdiness of the rod, she dragged it up onto the beach with one last pull.
I dashed down to grab it, and after confirming its mouth held no teeth, I held it up for her to see.
As I did so, my eyes were drawn into the new species of fish.
Mature Sea Bass
Rare
With a mild and sweet flavor, this fish is a prized salt-water fish of the Kallis realm. It is said to bring luck to anyone who catches and eats this rare creature.
"W-woah! It's huge!" Maria said. "Should we eat it?"
"We absolutely should! This should be enough for everyone that wants a taste of fish tonight."
With a single movement, I dispatched the fish, taking a moment to thank it.
I looked up at Maria.
"Do you want to cook it? I have spices I think would pair perfectly with it..."
Her eyes sparkled, and she nodded fervently, then her eyebrows narrowed on my torso.
"Fischer..."
"Yes, Maria?"
"... what is that squirming around your belly?"
"Oh, this?" I pointed to my shirt, where something was shifting to get comfortable.
At my words, the bunny climbed up and poked her head from my shirt. Her ears stood at attention as she peered at Maria, her intelligent eyes glistening.
Maria's mouth dropped open.
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance.
"You remember Cinnamon, right?"
Comments
Haylock Jobson
I rechecked the timeline, and I accidentally lost a night between Claws' reconnaissance and this meeting. It's an easy fix, but thank you for pointing it out!
Azareck
I thought Claws eavesdropped on that convo while Fischer was still gone, or is this a new one?
Beeees!
Damn, Fischer got her good. Also cinnamon is so cute, really hoping for some art of the whole gang at some point
