Heretical Fishing

Book 3: Chapter 39: Affinity

I was waiting for a fish to bite when two pulses of chi came from many newly awakened cultivators. Maria and I shared a grin. We dashed along the rockwall, over the sand, and through the open front door, our rods discarded.

George and Geraldine sat on the floor of my living room with their backs to the wall. They were staring at each other, their eyes filled with admiration, awe, and a healthy dose of affection.

I cleared my throat, getting their attention.

“We...” George said, licking his lips. “We did it.”

I nodded. “Felt it all the way from the rockwall, mate. Congratulations.”

Geraldine’s gaze had already drifted back down to her hands. She moved her fingers slowly, feeling the strength contained within. “This is... wow.”

“Ah-huh.” Maria gave her a knowing smile. “It’s like that.”

While they continued studying their new bodies, I sent my senses toward them. The last time I’d tasted their chi, they had a hint of something inhuman. Now, that dark aspect was even more prevalent. The longer I felt it, the more drawn in I became. I tried to understand, tried to comprehend, but it was as if staring into a pitch-black ravine on the ocean floor. There was no insight to be gained. At least not yet.

“What does your chi feel like to you, George?”

I laughed, running my fingers through my hair. “My bad. That might have been too hard of a question. I thought that maybe your techniques might have given you a higher sensitivity to chi, especially your own.”

“What made you think that?” Geraldine asked, her eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Because George said he could feel the Church of Carcinization’s Chi. Could you feel it too?”

She nodded slowly. “I could, yeah. It was kind of similar to Sergeant Snip—er, Rocky’s.” She shook her head. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Yeah, sorry again about Rocky. He’s gonna be on a tighter leash when he returns. So, you could both sense their anomalous chi, but not your own. That’s definitely something, I just don’t know what yet.”

“What does ours feel like?” George asked.

“Like an endless pit I can’t see the bottom of.” I jiggled my eyebrows at their shocked expressions. “Right? Pretty wild. It also seems like it’s ocean-adjacent, for lack of a better term. I don’t see it as a hole in the earth—I see it as a hole in the ocean floor.” I shrugged. “But that could just be my love of the ocean peeking through.”

They shared a look, staring at each other for a long moment.

“No,” George eventually said. “I admit to feeling an affinity with the sea...”

Geraldine laughed, covering her mouth with a hand. “Agreed, though it feels weird to admit that out loud. I suppose it’s rather aligned with the rest of the congregation.”

I beamed at them. “It certainly is. It would be weirder if your cultivation didn’t have something to do with the ocean, to be honest. And speaking of...” I arched a brow at Maria, who grinned back, knowing exactly where I was going. I turned back toward Tropica’s newest cultivators. “How do you two feel about a little fishing?”

Again, they locked eyes, having an entire conversation in the space of a single breath.

George stood first, then helped Geraldine to her feet.

“We would be honored, Fischer,” she said, giving me a wide grin.

Though I could feel their anticipation as Maria and I led them down to the rockwall, I think we were more excited than they were. Now that the denizens of New Tropica had all tried their hand at my heretical pastime, I was closer than ever to my dream of having an entire village of anglers. For some reason though, George and Geraldine following me down to the waterfront felt monumental. Like a key deliverable in a years-long project, if I were to use terms from my old life.

They were the nobles of Tropica, the lord and lady of the village I had stumbled across and decided to call home. That they were not only willing but actively keen on giving fishing a crack was no small deal, and I hoped it would be the stone that started a landslide of Tropica’s original denizens coming down to my shores and wetting a line.

There were plenty of rods already set up, and it took no time at all to run George and Geraldine through the basic knots. Despite their recent awakening, their fingers already showed the deftness of a cultivator’s enhanced body and awareness. I offered to put the fish on their hooks, but both declined, displaying a willingness to get their hands a little dirty in the pursuit of leisure.

With Maria on one side and my trainee anglers on the other, we demonstrated how to cast out the lines. I watched as both their baited hooks sailed out into the bay, arcing high and landing with dual splashes.

“Perfect!” Maria said. “That might be the best first casts we’ve seen! Certainly better than Dad’s.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roger replied from behind us, not falling for her trap.

“I think you tried your best, dear,” Sharon said, patting his shoulder and earning a flat glare for her condescension. She cackled, once more reminding me where Maria got her sense of humor.

We all slipped into comfortable silence while waiting for a bite. As time dragged on, waves of tension rolled out from George. The pulses grew stronger; something was bothering him. Something that would build until he finally addressed it.

Rather than enquire, I muted my senses, feeling like I was doing the cultivation equivalent of eavesdropping. He would voice it when he was ready.

Sure enough, before any fish bit down on our lines, he spoke. “I feel a little… conflicted, Fischer.”

“Yeah?” I took a deep breath, marveling at the sea spray as it cooled my nostrils. “About what, mate?”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, seemingly considering his words. “Never mind, actually. It’s foolish.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

I spun slowly, still smiling at the world’s sensations and the joy they brought me. “Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s foolish. You’re welcome to keep it to yourself, but I reckon it’s a good idea to let it out if it’s bothering you. It won’t make me think any less of you.”

He chewed his cheek, and after a nod from Geraldine, he sighed. “I wonder if I’m undeserving of this.”

“By this, do you mean fishing? Because even that dickheaded Osnan in our prison deserves a little fishing. I’d happily let him do so if I trusted he wouldn’t try to punch a hole through someone.”

The face George made brought me so, so much happiness.

He blinked at me, processing the words. “... come again?”

“I said I’d happily let him fish if I trusted he—ow!” I rubbed the arm Maria had struck with a swift slap. “Watch your strength, missy!”

“Stop teasing,” she replied, threatening to smack me again. She leaned past me, peering at George and Geraldine. “Tom Osnan Jr. and his wife are in a building that’s magically protected against cultivators and serves as our prison. They tried to hurt us, then tried to organize a coup to escape. It didn’t work.”

Geraldine gaped at Maria, then her eyes darted to me. “They are cultivators? Since when?”

“Since always, I guess. They were hidden because of their ridiculous amount of rings. I confronted them after I checked up on you guys and your wedding rings. Unlike you two, they attacked.”

“What happened?” George blurted, worry stealing some of his color.

“What happened?” I laughed. “Corporal Claws hit them with the old left-right-goodnight. They didn’t stand a chance.”

He gulped. “I stopped his hand from striking you when Marcus came to Tropica... and Tom was a cultivator then?”

“Certainly was, mate. Had his rings on though, so he was like a regular person.”

“That’s… terrifying. He could have slapped my head clean off my body.”

“He certainly could have tried, mate. I wouldn’t have let him, though.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?” Geraldine asked. “That seems like pretty important information.”

“There’s heaps I haven’t told you guys yet—it just seemed better to space it out.”

“Like Lieutenant Colonel Lemony Thicket,” Maria said. “The sapient tree spirit. She’s the one that caused that giant tree—which we’re pretty sure also houses an adolescent tree spirit—to grow from the old church.”

“What?” George asked.

“The... old church?” Geraldine added.

“Yeah!” I grinned. “The one hidden in Barry’s shed.”

She frowned. “It fits in the shed?”

“Nah, that’s just the entrance. And you haven’t even seen New Tropica yet—it's wild.”

“Okay, stop.” George was rubbing his temples with one hand, the other holding the rod. “You were right. Please space out the information.”

I shot him a wink. “Told ya. Now that I’ve sufficiently distracted you, let's get back to the topic at hand.”

“Er, which one?” Maria asked.

“George’s feeling of inadequacy and or undeservedness.”

“Oh. Right. What about it?”

“It’s bullshit. Thoughts?”

“Yup.” She nodded sagely. “Definitely bullshit.”

I smiled at George and Geraldine. “Well, there you have it! Any other concerns?”

A smile played on Geraldine’s lips, and she gave me a coy look. “When you say it’s bullshit, I assume you’re saying he should feel deserving of...” She gestured around us. “This?”

“Uh-huh,” Maria and I both replied. “Jinx!” we said at the same time, then stared at each other, both breaking into a grin.

“But I did so much,” George said, shaking his head. “The impact I had. I feel like I need to be punished for—”

“From what you’ve told us, you already paid quite the price,” I interrupted. “From my perspective, you fracked around, found out, then learned from your mistakes and grew as a person. That’s more than can be said for the Osnan’s, who are likely planning their next escape and or murder attempt as we speak.”

He sat with that for a long moment, chewing over the words. “That’s it? All of my sins are just forgiven?”

I shrugged. “What more is there to say? You’re welcome to list them if you think it will help. I’m all for talking out your feelings, but I reckon it isn’t necessary.”

“Not necessary,” Maria agreed. “You’ll just be beating yourself up for no reason. If you want to atone for everything, just do better from now on. Easy peasy, right?”

He opened his mouth to reply, likely a retort, but Geraldine lay a hand on his arm. “How about this, dear—I still feel guilty as well, but I can forgive you.” She dipped her chin, leaning slightly closer to him and staring into his eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course I can. I don’t blame you in the least.”

“Good.” She rubbed his back. “We’ll start there and work on forgiving ourselves. In the meantime, we do everything we can to help out.”

“Now that’s a plan!” I beamed at them. “And I know exactly what your first act of atonement can be!”

“Oh?” He leaned forward, staring at me past Geraldine. “What’s that?”

I pointed at the tip of his rod. “Catch the fish nibbling at your bait.”

“The what?”

His hand wasn’t resting on his line, so he hadn’t felt the tiny bumps jostling the tip of his rod.

He shifted into full focus immediately, setting both hands in place and preparing to strike. The fish kept nibbling.

Maria leaned in close and whispered, “Must be something other than a blue fish, right?”

“Definitely. They aren’t so courteous as to have a little taste first—they just smash the bait.”

The small bites suddenly stopped, but before George had a chance to get disappointed, his line tore through the water.

“Now there’s a blue fish!” I yelled, laughing. Their fight was unmistakable to me by now. “I’m guessing it either scared off or ate the fish that was testing your eel.”

“What do I do?” George yelled, reeling in awkwardly.

“Relax, mate! You’ve got this!”

He slowed his breathing, his movements going more fluid as he actively calmed himself.

I nodded. “Keep tension and reel it in. Try not to overthink the fight. The fish doesn’t look too big, and I have full faith in your ability to—woah!”

I set my hook, letting line go as a fish tore out to sea. “Double hook-up!”

Just like George’s, mine appeared to be a smaller model. I easily brought it back to shore, but not before George. After my reminder to relax, he’d handedly won his fight.

Maria leaped down to the water line. “These things have crazy-sharp teeth, so be careful where you grab them!” She grasped its body behind the gills and lifted it from the water before passing it to George.

He spun to face Geraldine, letting her get a good look at it. The look on their faces, the mix of sheer wonder and child-like glee, made me blunder. I didn’t keep the tension on my line, and with rapidfire shakes of its head, my fish spat the hook.

“Oh...” I said, realizing my line had gone slack.

“Amateur,” Maria sighed, playfully rolling her eyes at me.

“Oh, shush.” I turned my attention to George. “So mate, ready for your first taste of fish?”

Though I didn’t think it would be possible, his eyes flew even wider. “Is it okay to keep? I thought everyone was trying to only keep the bigger ones?”

“It’s more than okay to keep, mate. Your call though.”

George looked down at it for a long moment, then shook his head, smiling. “If we let it go, it’ll grow bigger, correct?”

I grinned. “Certainly will, mate.”

He crept down to the water and lowered the fish. Before it even touched the surface, it kicked, freeing itself from George’s grasp. He grunted as he fell back and sat on a boulder. The fish disappeared from sight in a flash, returning to the depths.

Laughing, George accepted Geraldine’s offered hand and let her pull him to his feet.

“So,” I said. “Ready to try again?”

“Absolutely!” he grabbed his rod and ran up the rocks, heading for more bait.