Heretical Fishing
Author: Haylock
Book 5: Chapter 16: Illumination
Above, the sky had darkened. Shadows spread all around me, growing larger as the sun’s light retreated behind the western mountains. I smiled and took a deep breath, absorbing the scents of fish, tallow, and sweet victory.
“Go on,” Maria said. “Just say it. Get your gloating over with.”
“Told you so,” I stated—very ungloatingly. “You never should have doubted Teddy.”
She gave me a slight pout below an even slighter frown. “I didn’t doubt him. I was worried, and who wouldn’t have been? Teddy was halfway through a breakthrough, you are struggling to control your chi…” She trailed off, rolling her eyes at the look I gave her. “
are struggling to control our chi, and if you severed your connection to the tunnel—which you nearly did, by the way—the whole thing might have been irreparably damaged. That’s not even mentioning Rodger with a D, who was using a normal spear to attack a
The bloke is certifiably insane. He was one bad decision away from getting fileted.”
“Ahhh, I get it now.” I nodded to myself. “You didn’t doubt Teddy or me. You doubted Rodger with a D.”
Maria raised her hands. “Wait. Pause the conversation. He told us people called him Rod, right? I know that’s a confusing name in Tropica, but are we really gonna keep calling him ‘Rodger with a D’?”
“Hmmm. We can’t call him just Rodger because it sounds too much like Roger
a D. It’ll undo whatever calming technique your dad is learning on that island with Ellis. And
Way too confusing. It’ll drive us all mad, him included. Pass the rod, Rod. Poor bloke will think people are always calling his name.”
“So we just call him Rodger with a D?”
“For now. We’ll ask him about it when the time is right. Deal?”
Okay. He and his son
snuck up on us back when we were making our way to Gormona during the early stages of Operation: Sticky Fingers, so maybe she had a point. I wasn’t gonna tell her that, though.
“I can hear your thoughts, Fischer.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking abou—Oh, look! Teddy’s waking up!”
She whapped me on the upper arm, but I barely felt it. I was too busy watching the scene unfolding to the northwest. Back within the clearing, Teddy blinked, his eyes slowly focusing. Through our connection, Maria and I both sensed how powerful he’d become. Not that we needed to feel it to understand—our lovable bear was the size of at least five outdoor dunnies. He seemed to have unlocked some kind of aura power, too. It was similar to Deklan and Dom’s ability to shield, but I got the hint that it was offensive rather than defensive.
The cultivator—Rodger with a D—stared at him in disbelief. He’d witnessed Teddy’s breakthrough and knew he was no longer a threat. “You… You know Theresa?”
Teddy sat up, his rear legs splaying outward, his body shrinking back to its previous size, though the tips of his red spikes remained. He nodded.
The young man, Toby, looked like he’d aged years rather than the months it had been. He blinked in absolute shock. “Little Bear? You’re
”
“Teddy,” growled Teddy—quite politely, in my estimation—and gestured to himself with one paw. By the looks on their faces, they had no clue what he was trying to say.
“I…” Rodger with a D said. “We…” He wobbled, adrenaline making way for fatigue now that he and his children were safe. Teddy caught him before his unconscious form could hit the forest floor.
***
Rod woke from one dream to arrive in another.
The former had been a chaotic blend of time, only scant seconds passing before fading once more. Each glimpse showed his daughter cradled in the arms of a giant bear, surrounded by a faint-pink cloud. There were weird crustaceans as well, one colossal, the other the size of a cat. Their forms were nightmarish, yet he got a sense of calm compassion from their compound eyes.
It was a surprisingly pleasant string of visions, but they didn’t hold a candle to the sound he heard on repeat. Theresa’s laugh. Even in his favorite memories, it wasn’t so rich, so full of life. It drifted over him, her breathless giggles seeming to cover him in a fur blanket that was velvety, warm, and…
?
His blanket licked his chin, and Rod opened his eyes, frowning at the realism of the sensation. It licked him again and disappeared, cold air rushing in to fill its former position, goosebumps rising from atop his exposed sternum.
He couldn’t see a thing. The sun streamed in through a giant window, and though it overwhelmed his enhanced vision, it only took a moment to absorb the rest of his surroundings. He was in a building constructed of shockingly opulent materials. Beneath him, a collection of blankets sprawled, forming a makeshift bed atop a wooden floor.
Theresa’s wonderful laugh was gone now. The dream had fled, leaving only emptiness in its place, a vacuous void that threatened to swallow him whole. Yesterday flashed in his mind, but addled as he was, he couldn’t discern the truth from imagination. The bear can’t have been real, could it? His head spun. He had to find Theresa and Toby. Nothing else mattered. The facts would unravel the more he—
A shape froze in the doorway, a shadow, and it looked so much like her. But it couldn’t be. She hadn’t stood for months. A lump formed in his throat, his still-waking mind lacking the mental fortitude to control his emotions.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Dad…” came the voice, so sweet, so angelic that he
to be dreaming.
Theresa’s shape swept forward and left the blinding sun behind, revealing her face.
Formerly gaunt cheeks were covered in a layer of plump skin. Her sunken under eyes, darkened with fatigue for so long, had filled-out, her youthful features returned. Her entire visage was filled with life, highlighted by an anticipatory smile so beautiful he didn’t care if it was a dream.
Theresa hopped in place, her feet unable to stand still. “Come on! You have to see this!”
He just blinked at her. His mind had gone numb. He dared to hope this was real.
“Dad!” she yelled with the endearing annoyance only children could invoke. “
”
She reached out a hand, and when he grabbed it, his heart broke. It was tiny, just as small as he remembered. Below the skin, however, fat and muscle covered her bones, her body having filled out alongside her face.
“Daaaad,” she groaned, still annoyed, still endearing. “You’re seriously going to miss it!”
She tried to pull him to his feet, but even with her strength returned, she was only a young girl. He pushed off the blankets with one hand and stood, telling himself this was still a dream, lovely as it might be.
She dragged him outside. He barely felt his steps or the pain of the sun’s assault—all he could focus on was the tiny hand in his own, her grip squeezing two of his fingers with ferocious intent. As overwhelming as the brightness was, it was nothing compared to the sensation in his core. There were cultivators nearby.
He braced his core, made to rush past her and become a physical barrier, only to freeze in place.
The two creatures waving at him couldn’t be any more different.
The first was the bear—the same one he’d seen yesterday. Its deadly hackles and glowing spines had vanished, replaced by coarse hair that blew in the breeze. His raised paw was larger than a man’s head.
The second creature didn’t look violent in the least. Silken fur covered a lithe form, and as she smiled at him, a forelimb drifted up shyly, covering a mouth set below eyes that wouldn’t meet his gaze. Her other forepaw rose, waved in greeting, and sprouted claws like miniature scythes.
Rod balked at those gleaming blades, but it only got worse from there.
She dropped her limb to reveal needle-sharp teeth. Electricity danced over her body as if she were a living storm. The lightning crackled and shifted around her, vanishing only to reemerge again.
The memories that weren’t his identified it: this creature was an otter, a semi-aquatic mammal that lived in—
The fiend cut his thoughts off by becoming an opaque blue, reaching one paw into a built-in pocket, and removing another, smaller mammal. She launched it at the bear. This new arrival, his core incredibly powerful and somehow linked to the otter, curled into a ball. Electricity shot from him. He moved faster than Rod could track. And he hit the bear right in the chest.
The collision could be called nothing other than a detonation.
Blue and red light clashed, the former from forked lightning, the latter from the bear’s many spikes. And then, as fast as it began, it just… ended. They drew their respective powers in, the bear smacking the smaller animal—which Rod’s mind was referring to as a raccoon—on top of the head when it tried to steal some red light.
The man, presented with what could only be three different spirit beasts, found himself struck dumb. He could separate neither truth from fiction nor dream from reality. The likeliest scenario was that he’d gone mad even sooner than expected. None of this could be true. Should he attack? But what if his daughter was standing over his prone, nightmare-locked body? If so, she could be right in the line of fi—
A sound ripped his thoughts apart, shredding them like grain before the powers of the mighty spirit beasts only meters away.
Theresa’s laugh.
It flowed over and through him, a magical salve to heal any ailment of the mind or body. Her tiny fingers, stronger than they’d ever been, slipped from his grip. Her legs buckled and she fell to the sand, but when she gasped for air, it wasn’t in the breathless manner that always broke him—it was in joy, her laughter so potent it sounded painful. Tears formed in her eyes as she stared between the creatures and him, wordlessly checking if he’d seen it.
A man strode out to join them on the sand. Unlike other cultivators, Rod couldn’t feel a single hint of his power.
“Morning, mate,” Fischer said. He’d not seen the strange man in months, but he still wore the same curiously amused expression as the last time they’d met.
“How…”
Fischer beamed, both figuratively and literally. His index finger shone with white light. “This should explain everything. Had to fight tooth and nail with that damned tunnel, but I’m pretty sure I’ve—”
He cut off when a woman popped out from behind Fischer and whapped him on the back of the head. “What do you think you’re doing with the power in your finger, mister? Did you not think to at least run it by your wife? I could have helped, you know. Oh. And hi, Rodger. Sorry about the reception. My darling husband might be trying to do something foolish.”
“There’s no ‘might’ about it. This is unabashedly foolish. Worth it if it works, though.”
Rod blinked at them, too overwhelmed to say anything. This was starting to feel less and less like a dream. He looked down at Theresa, who was gazing up at him with adoring eyes, her hands absentmindedly playing with the sand beneath her.
Maria sighed. “Okay. I think you’re right.”
“I can illuminate him?”
“May as well. You’ve already done the foolish bit by gathering the power.”
Fischer bowed at the waist. “As my god-queen demands!”
“God-Queen…?” Rod asked, his mind spinning. Illuminate? That was ominous. “What—”
Fischer touched him.
As light rushed in, flooding his body and spirit both, Roger had to admit how apt the word ‘illuminate’ was. He saw it all. What Fischer had been doing here. The friends he’d made, spirit beasts included. The formation of a church. The assault on Gormona, the freeing of slaves, the defense of Tropica. All the trials and tribulations that had gotten in his way. Gods. Actual divine gods, but he cast the memory aside. There was a healer. Maria.
She could fix—
She already had. Last night was no dream.
Rod’s eyes found Theresa again. She peered back with a wide smile, eyes still swimming with mirth. He didn’t feel himself drop to his knees. He reached out, his hands hesitating just before making contact, scared she would disappear. “You…” He swallowed. “How do you…?”
She cocked her head, a patch of chaotic curls flopping to the side with the help of a slight breeze.
Fischer cleared his throat. “I think your father wants to know how you feel.”
“How I feel…?” Her face scrunched in thought. “Hungry. Do you have any more passiona pastries, uncle Fischer?”
The existence of passiona pastries would have normally left him reeling, but with his daughter before him, hale and healthy enough that hunger was her biggest concern, he found he didn’t much care.
He wrapped Theresa in a hug, squeezing her as tight as he dared. Someone else came running. Toby crashed into them, tried to wrap them both in an embrace, but Rod was swifter, his arm scooping the teen in.
For the first time in years, he believed everything was going to be okay. He wasn’t going mad. Theresa was healthy. Both his children were safe. He held onto them, the morning sun seeming to bless them as his vision swam, tears of joy and despair and countless other emotions blinding him.
“Go on,” Maria said. “Just say it. Get your gloating over with.”
“Told you so,” I stated—very ungloatingly. “You never should have doubted Teddy.”
She gave me a slight pout below an even slighter frown. “I didn’t doubt him. I was worried, and who wouldn’t have been? Teddy was halfway through a breakthrough, you are struggling to control your chi…” She trailed off, rolling her eyes at the look I gave her. “
are struggling to control our chi, and if you severed your connection to the tunnel—which you nearly did, by the way—the whole thing might have been irreparably damaged. That’s not even mentioning Rodger with a D, who was using a normal spear to attack a
The bloke is certifiably insane. He was one bad decision away from getting fileted.”
“Ahhh, I get it now.” I nodded to myself. “You didn’t doubt Teddy or me. You doubted Rodger with a D.”
Maria raised her hands. “Wait. Pause the conversation. He told us people called him Rod, right? I know that’s a confusing name in Tropica, but are we really gonna keep calling him ‘Rodger with a D’?”
“Hmmm. We can’t call him just Rodger because it sounds too much like Roger
a D. It’ll undo whatever calming technique your dad is learning on that island with Ellis. And
Way too confusing. It’ll drive us all mad, him included. Pass the rod, Rod. Poor bloke will think people are always calling his name.”
“So we just call him Rodger with a D?”
“For now. We’ll ask him about it when the time is right. Deal?”
Okay. He and his son
snuck up on us back when we were making our way to Gormona during the early stages of Operation: Sticky Fingers, so maybe she had a point. I wasn’t gonna tell her that, though.
“I can hear your thoughts, Fischer.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking abou—Oh, look! Teddy’s waking up!”
She whapped me on the upper arm, but I barely felt it. I was too busy watching the scene unfolding to the northwest. Back within the clearing, Teddy blinked, his eyes slowly focusing. Through our connection, Maria and I both sensed how powerful he’d become. Not that we needed to feel it to understand—our lovable bear was the size of at least five outdoor dunnies. He seemed to have unlocked some kind of aura power, too. It was similar to Deklan and Dom’s ability to shield, but I got the hint that it was offensive rather than defensive.
The cultivator—Rodger with a D—stared at him in disbelief. He’d witnessed Teddy’s breakthrough and knew he was no longer a threat. “You… You know Theresa?”
Teddy sat up, his rear legs splaying outward, his body shrinking back to its previous size, though the tips of his red spikes remained. He nodded.
The young man, Toby, looked like he’d aged years rather than the months it had been. He blinked in absolute shock. “Little Bear? You’re
”
“Teddy,” growled Teddy—quite politely, in my estimation—and gestured to himself with one paw. By the looks on their faces, they had no clue what he was trying to say.
“I…” Rodger with a D said. “We…” He wobbled, adrenaline making way for fatigue now that he and his children were safe. Teddy caught him before his unconscious form could hit the forest floor.
***
Rod woke from one dream to arrive in another.
The former had been a chaotic blend of time, only scant seconds passing before fading once more. Each glimpse showed his daughter cradled in the arms of a giant bear, surrounded by a faint-pink cloud. There were weird crustaceans as well, one colossal, the other the size of a cat. Their forms were nightmarish, yet he got a sense of calm compassion from their compound eyes.
It was a surprisingly pleasant string of visions, but they didn’t hold a candle to the sound he heard on repeat. Theresa’s laugh. Even in his favorite memories, it wasn’t so rich, so full of life. It drifted over him, her breathless giggles seeming to cover him in a fur blanket that was velvety, warm, and…
?
His blanket licked his chin, and Rod opened his eyes, frowning at the realism of the sensation. It licked him again and disappeared, cold air rushing in to fill its former position, goosebumps rising from atop his exposed sternum.
He couldn’t see a thing. The sun streamed in through a giant window, and though it overwhelmed his enhanced vision, it only took a moment to absorb the rest of his surroundings. He was in a building constructed of shockingly opulent materials. Beneath him, a collection of blankets sprawled, forming a makeshift bed atop a wooden floor.
Theresa’s wonderful laugh was gone now. The dream had fled, leaving only emptiness in its place, a vacuous void that threatened to swallow him whole. Yesterday flashed in his mind, but addled as he was, he couldn’t discern the truth from imagination. The bear can’t have been real, could it? His head spun. He had to find Theresa and Toby. Nothing else mattered. The facts would unravel the more he—
A shape froze in the doorway, a shadow, and it looked so much like her. But it couldn’t be. She hadn’t stood for months. A lump formed in his throat, his still-waking mind lacking the mental fortitude to control his emotions.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Dad…” came the voice, so sweet, so angelic that he
to be dreaming.
Theresa’s shape swept forward and left the blinding sun behind, revealing her face.
Formerly gaunt cheeks were covered in a layer of plump skin. Her sunken under eyes, darkened with fatigue for so long, had filled-out, her youthful features returned. Her entire visage was filled with life, highlighted by an anticipatory smile so beautiful he didn’t care if it was a dream.
Theresa hopped in place, her feet unable to stand still. “Come on! You have to see this!”
He just blinked at her. His mind had gone numb. He dared to hope this was real.
“Dad!” she yelled with the endearing annoyance only children could invoke. “
”
She reached out a hand, and when he grabbed it, his heart broke. It was tiny, just as small as he remembered. Below the skin, however, fat and muscle covered her bones, her body having filled out alongside her face.
“Daaaad,” she groaned, still annoyed, still endearing. “You’re seriously going to miss it!”
She tried to pull him to his feet, but even with her strength returned, she was only a young girl. He pushed off the blankets with one hand and stood, telling himself this was still a dream, lovely as it might be.
She dragged him outside. He barely felt his steps or the pain of the sun’s assault—all he could focus on was the tiny hand in his own, her grip squeezing two of his fingers with ferocious intent. As overwhelming as the brightness was, it was nothing compared to the sensation in his core. There were cultivators nearby.
He braced his core, made to rush past her and become a physical barrier, only to freeze in place.
The two creatures waving at him couldn’t be any more different.
The first was the bear—the same one he’d seen yesterday. Its deadly hackles and glowing spines had vanished, replaced by coarse hair that blew in the breeze. His raised paw was larger than a man’s head.
The second creature didn’t look violent in the least. Silken fur covered a lithe form, and as she smiled at him, a forelimb drifted up shyly, covering a mouth set below eyes that wouldn’t meet his gaze. Her other forepaw rose, waved in greeting, and sprouted claws like miniature scythes.
Rod balked at those gleaming blades, but it only got worse from there.
She dropped her limb to reveal needle-sharp teeth. Electricity danced over her body as if she were a living storm. The lightning crackled and shifted around her, vanishing only to reemerge again.
The memories that weren’t his identified it: this creature was an otter, a semi-aquatic mammal that lived in—
The fiend cut his thoughts off by becoming an opaque blue, reaching one paw into a built-in pocket, and removing another, smaller mammal. She launched it at the bear. This new arrival, his core incredibly powerful and somehow linked to the otter, curled into a ball. Electricity shot from him. He moved faster than Rod could track. And he hit the bear right in the chest.
The collision could be called nothing other than a detonation.
Blue and red light clashed, the former from forked lightning, the latter from the bear’s many spikes. And then, as fast as it began, it just… ended. They drew their respective powers in, the bear smacking the smaller animal—which Rod’s mind was referring to as a raccoon—on top of the head when it tried to steal some red light.
The man, presented with what could only be three different spirit beasts, found himself struck dumb. He could separate neither truth from fiction nor dream from reality. The likeliest scenario was that he’d gone mad even sooner than expected. None of this could be true. Should he attack? But what if his daughter was standing over his prone, nightmare-locked body? If so, she could be right in the line of fi—
A sound ripped his thoughts apart, shredding them like grain before the powers of the mighty spirit beasts only meters away.
Theresa’s laugh.
It flowed over and through him, a magical salve to heal any ailment of the mind or body. Her tiny fingers, stronger than they’d ever been, slipped from his grip. Her legs buckled and she fell to the sand, but when she gasped for air, it wasn’t in the breathless manner that always broke him—it was in joy, her laughter so potent it sounded painful. Tears formed in her eyes as she stared between the creatures and him, wordlessly checking if he’d seen it.
A man strode out to join them on the sand. Unlike other cultivators, Rod couldn’t feel a single hint of his power.
“Morning, mate,” Fischer said. He’d not seen the strange man in months, but he still wore the same curiously amused expression as the last time they’d met.
“How…”
Fischer beamed, both figuratively and literally. His index finger shone with white light. “This should explain everything. Had to fight tooth and nail with that damned tunnel, but I’m pretty sure I’ve—”
He cut off when a woman popped out from behind Fischer and whapped him on the back of the head. “What do you think you’re doing with the power in your finger, mister? Did you not think to at least run it by your wife? I could have helped, you know. Oh. And hi, Rodger. Sorry about the reception. My darling husband might be trying to do something foolish.”
“There’s no ‘might’ about it. This is unabashedly foolish. Worth it if it works, though.”
Rod blinked at them, too overwhelmed to say anything. This was starting to feel less and less like a dream. He looked down at Theresa, who was gazing up at him with adoring eyes, her hands absentmindedly playing with the sand beneath her.
Maria sighed. “Okay. I think you’re right.”
“I can illuminate him?”
“May as well. You’ve already done the foolish bit by gathering the power.”
Fischer bowed at the waist. “As my god-queen demands!”
“God-Queen…?” Rod asked, his mind spinning. Illuminate? That was ominous. “What—”
Fischer touched him.
As light rushed in, flooding his body and spirit both, Roger had to admit how apt the word ‘illuminate’ was. He saw it all. What Fischer had been doing here. The friends he’d made, spirit beasts included. The formation of a church. The assault on Gormona, the freeing of slaves, the defense of Tropica. All the trials and tribulations that had gotten in his way. Gods. Actual divine gods, but he cast the memory aside. There was a healer. Maria.
She could fix—
She already had. Last night was no dream.
Rod’s eyes found Theresa again. She peered back with a wide smile, eyes still swimming with mirth. He didn’t feel himself drop to his knees. He reached out, his hands hesitating just before making contact, scared she would disappear. “You…” He swallowed. “How do you…?”
She cocked her head, a patch of chaotic curls flopping to the side with the help of a slight breeze.
Fischer cleared his throat. “I think your father wants to know how you feel.”
“How I feel…?” Her face scrunched in thought. “Hungry. Do you have any more passiona pastries, uncle Fischer?”
The existence of passiona pastries would have normally left him reeling, but with his daughter before him, hale and healthy enough that hunger was her biggest concern, he found he didn’t much care.
He wrapped Theresa in a hug, squeezing her as tight as he dared. Someone else came running. Toby crashed into them, tried to wrap them both in an embrace, but Rod was swifter, his arm scooping the teen in.
For the first time in years, he believed everything was going to be okay. He wasn’t going mad. Theresa was healthy. Both his children were safe. He held onto them, the morning sun seeming to bless them as his vision swam, tears of joy and despair and countless other emotions blinding him.