Heretical Fishing: A Cozy Guide to Annoying the Cults, Outsmarting the Fish, and Alienating Oneself

B3 | 64 - Dark Clouds



Beneath a sky of pale blue and surrounded by verdant forest, a wave of nausea washed over me. I stumbled, the sensation so strong that it felt like a physical blow. I let go of the cart, and as I took another step forward, Maria caught me. Though she supported my weight, her face told me that whatever had come was affecting her too.

I shook my head and tried to stand upright. Something was wrong. It was as if gravity had increased, but it wasn’t impacting my entire body—just my lower half.

“What—”

I cut off as my chi was yanked from my core, channeling down into the ground. Maria let out a sharp gasp, and I felt some of her essence pass through me. Our intertwined power shot deeper and deeper. Heading for... the vast network of ropes that had connected my friends and me when we were skybound. Without my permission, my core had opened up and given freely. Maria had been touching me when it started, and I’d subconsciously requisitioned her power too.

“Fischer!” Maria half-yelled, her voice panicked. “What was that? What’s happening?”

“The...” I swallowed. “Our bond.”

Her eyes widened a little, and despite my vague answer, she understood. Her gaze flicked down and I felt her awareness extend, tracing my chi as it poured down into the thing we’d created together.

Instinctively, I knew that I could cut it off. If I truly wanted, I could rally my will and slam the flood-gates closed. Doing so would leave me free to move, to go and confront whoever or whatever had arrived so close to home. So why did that feel like it was the incorrect move? Anxiety bubbled up, starting as a burbling stream and quickly becoming a swollen river.

My desire to go stamp out the threat warred with the bonds to those I held dearest. The network below us, the container that was both empty yet filled with potential, demanded that I let my chi flow into it. But my conscious mind couldn’t fathom why.

I swore, gritting my teeth. “I need to power it. Frack me. I don’t know why, but I need to. I might have to stay here...”

Seeing my distress, Borks dashed to me and nuzzled my leg. Only to let out a yelp and leap back, his tail between his legs.

“Nobody touch me,” I said. “I’ll steal your chi. I didn’t mean to do that, Borks. I’m sorry. I—”

“Can you get in the pocket dimension?” Deklan cut in. “Borks’s, I mean.”

“No. That would stop my power from exiting. And don’t ask me how I know that. I’ve got no clue.”

“The cart!” Maria yelled. “Can you get on the cart?”

Suspecting it just might work, I spun, willing my body to move. I was barely upright, and when I tried to lift myself, I lacked the strength. I shook my head. “I can’t—”

“On three!” Deklan said. “Lift him on three! Everyone ready?”

My eyes darted around, too overwhelmed to protest. They all nodded at Deklan’s words and got into position.

“One. Two—”

Jumping the gun, Teddy lifted me with his mighty paws, lobbing me into the air. His reactive roar tore through the forest as I stole some of his core’s power, so loud that it shook the surrounding trees. As I blinked up at the sky, my senses were only half focused on the small birds fleeing; they were mostly centered around the absolute torrent of chi being yoinked from my abdomen

“Hold on tight!” Maria said, grabbing one of the handles as Dom grabbed the other. “We’re going back to Tropica. Teddy—make us a path! We can replant the trees!”

I tried to shoot him an apologetic look, but Teddy was already barreling forward. Borks and Deklan joined him. Before their combined might, the forest might as well have been made of straw. Maria and Dom took off, and I felt a pang of regret for the chunks of splintered wood flying to land around us. I swept it aside. Now wasn’t the time.

We had to get back to Tropica. We had to get back to our friends.

***

Within the Church of Fischer’s headquarters in New Tropica, Barry shook his head, smiling at the debate being waged before him.

“Let it go, Ellis,” Theo said. “They’ll be back today or tomorrow.”

“But the information is fresh now! Might I not go look at the site that Fischer said was corrupted? Why can’t I just give it a glance—”

“Because you can’t be trusted!” Danny replied, looking just as amused as Barry felt. “The moment you get there and see it for yourself, you’ll find an excuse to go track Fischer down!”

“But what if the corruption spreads? It would be only prudent to go see if Fischer’s plan to fix it worked, would it not?”

“One of the Buzzy Bros already reported that it’s clear, Ellis,” Barry stated, doing his best to hide his smile. “There is absolutely nothing to worry about.”

As if the world wished to call Barry a liar, a wave of power rolled over them, seeming to force the air from the room.

They all shot to their feet, staring to the east where the horrific chi was coming from. Barry waited for it to disappear, the seconds that passed feeling like an eternity. When it only grew stronger, he clenched his jaw, his momentary panic immediately swept away by duty.

“Evacuate Tropica,” he ordered, marching for the door.

A man radiating chi sprinted into the room, his eyes as sharp as the essence he was releasing. “Something has come,” Roger barked, his body stiff.

“We know.” Barry led him outside. “We can all feel it. Can you rally the defenders at defense position three?”

“Aye,” was all Roger said, knowing by heart what that simple sentence meant. He pulled a horn from his belt and let out three quick blasts of noise. Before the first had finished echoing off the surrounding buildings, people were emerging and moving for the meeting point.

Any other time, Barry would have stood and watched them go, soaking in how cohesive a force New Tropica had become. He still took pride in it, but he never stopped moving for even a moment. “Reservists!” He yelled through cupped hands, loud enough to be heard by every cultivator for at least a dozen kilometers. “Evacuate the citizens of Tropica!”

The facade of the citizens’ sleepy coastal life might be about to come to an abrupt end. Barry wasn’t happy about the emotional turmoil they could potentially experience, but if it meant they were kept safe, it was a small price to pay.

Barry shook his head. That was a problem for later. For now, he had tasks to do and people to evacuate.

***

Just over a half hour later, odd vibrations thumped the ground as Barry sped toward defense position three—the clear ground just west of Tropica.

He’d participated in the evacuation, which had gone surprisingly smoothly. With George and Geraldine’s help, they’d managed to convince everyone that the evacuation was on order of the crown. That nebulous reason hadn’t been enough for some of the nobility, but when George had added the detail that there might be cultivators on the loose—which was more accurate than the townsfolk knew—they had been all too happy with retreating to the north. Thankfully, the congregation hadn’t needed to reveal their status as cultivators. Not yet, anyway.

It had been an oddly frustrating experience for him, but he didn’t take the time to consider why. Shaking his head, he sped up, the surrounding crops racing past in a blur. When he stepped from between two rows of sugarcane, he skidded to a stop, a low whistle escaping his lips.

It had been less than an hour, yet the area between Tropica and the western mountains had been transformed. It resembled the training grounds that Roger had constructed by packing the earth. Even now, cultivators moved further west in groups of ten, stomping the ground and flattening the battlefield, which was causing the vibrations Barry felt earlier. Every member of the congregation, each human present, wore their church robes, the black fabric with royal-blue embroidery of a fishing rod making them look like the cohesive force they were.

Ahead of them, Pistachio and Snips sliced through trees like a pair of bloodthirsty lumberjacks with a vendetta against all plantlife. Pelly and Bill swooped down and picked up the felled trees, carrying them to either side of the packed field.

Beneath their chosen place of battle, Barry could feel Lemon and the other tree spirit doing… something. He didn’t have the time to go and ask them, but he had complete faith in them and their intentions.

Barry couldn’t spot Claws or Cinnamon, and for a moment, he worried they’d defied orders and gone to find Fischer. He whirled, scanning the area for them. A shrill chirp cut through the din of the preparations, demanding his attention. When he looked toward the source, he found a patch of gray and black on one of the surrounding mountain peaks. Standing atop a stack of gathered boulders, Claws and Cinnamon waved, their mischievous grins unmissable even from here.

Theo snorted from beside him. “They did ask permission first, for what it’s worth. I said it was a good idea.”

Barry grinned, not needing to fake his excitement. “I haven’t seen Claws’s electric boulders yet...”

Queen Bee and Bumblebro came darting through the air, both making a low drone with their wings. Barry held out his hand, giving them a spot to land. Queen Bee let out a questioning tone, her body laced with anxiety.

Barry nodded. “I agree, and I was about to say the same thing. Have the Buzzy Boys retreat. We don’t need them to scout to know that the enemy approaches.” The sickly scent of their chi had grown stronger since he’d first felt it, the enemy forces slowly coming closer to Tropica.

Queen Bee and Bumblebro nodded their thanks, then darted away. Barry expected them to go toward the west, but they flew for Bill and Pelly instead. Barry raised an eyebrow, but with a single gesture from Queen Bee, both Pelly and Bill shot skyward. With their necks extended, twin honks came from them, so loud that Barry wanted to cover his ears.

The sight eased some of his worry. It reminded him that although he was the de facto leader here, the other members of the congregation were more than capable of organizing themselves. Clearing the trees was Snips and Pistachio’s idea. Claws and Cinnamon had taken it upon themselves to gather ammunition and a place to fire it from. Lemon and the other tree spirit were doing something underground. And the bees and pelicans had been in communication, having prepared a way to recall the Buzzy Boys if the order was given.

The capabilities of everyone present were a soothing balm, yet it didn’t quash all of his anxiety. He surveyed the field again, his lips forming a line. Was this really the best place to defend? It made sense from a tactical point of view; this was the only road that led into Tropica and was the path of least resistance. But would the enemy recognize that and choose a different approach?

Judging by how slowly the enemy was moving, the defensive force had time to reposition. He faced the south, toward New Tropica, then north, where the mountains weren’t so prevalent. They’d discussed this time and time again. They’d decided if an enemy force came, this was the best place to hold the defense. Was there something they hadn’t considered, though? More information that would lead to a different decision being reached? His thoughts started to spiral, building into a storm.

“Barry.” Roger said, appearing before him in an instant and causing a wall of air to crash into him.

Barry shook his head, returning to the present. “Sorry, I was just wondering if—”

“Yeah, I know. Stop it.”

“... What?”

“If you’ll excuse my bluntness, you need to stop questioning yourself.”

All Barry could do was blink.

“I could feel your unease from across the field,” Roger continued, his tone matter-of-fact and not at all accusatory. “Now, only some of us have had the breakthrough that lets us sense emotions clearly, but a few of those that came from Gormona are rather... perceptive. I saw more than one head darting your way just now.”

The words struck Barry like a gut punch, and a spear of guilt lodged itself firmly in his abdomen. “Sorry.”

Roger shook his head. “It’s fine. This is your first battle, if that’s even what we’ll call this when all is said and done. A little doubt is only natural. That’s usually the commander’s role. Here, though, with an army of superhuman thought-detectors on your side? It might be best to push those doubts away. By all means, consider every angle, but don’t let yourself slip into despair.”

Barry blinked again. Abruptly, he barked a laugh. “Having superhuman thought detectors as friends really muddies the waters, huh?”

A wry smile crossed Roger’s lips. “Aye. That it does. If anyone has to have cultivators, though, I’m glad they’re on our side.” Roger’s eyes went distant for a moment, and as he chewed his upper lip, Barry got an intense feeling of melancholy, strong enough for even him to feel. Roger sucked air through his teeth. “Well, look at me not following my own advice.”

“You’re fine,” Theo said. “I wasn’t there, but I’ve heard tell of the war you were in.”

Roger ran a hair through his hair. “Better to get lost in thought now than when the enemy arrives, I suppose. I’d best go line up the troops.” He turned and strode away, the air around him even sharper than the sword sheathed at his waist.

Barry took a slow breath, doing one of the exercises from Earth that Fischer had shown him. A minute later, his pulse had slowed. As the outside world returned to the forefront of his awareness, Barry heard Roger’s barked orders. He had separated the congregation into two distinct groups: defenders and reservists. The former was larger by far, broken up into seven squads of eight-to-twelve based on complimentary powers. They lined up as Roger instructed, moving to the places he pointed with his sword.

Barry’s eyes were drawn to the weapon. It had been created by Roger and the smiths and looked like a normal sword. Well, it would have looked like a normal sword if it didn’t have streaks of pitch-black metal running through it. It caught the afternoon sunlight, the silver metal reflecting it and the black metal drinking it in. He’d have to inspect it once this was all over.

Footsteps approached Barry, and he already knew who it was before turning. “Everything ready?” he asked.

“Just so,” Keith replied.

Beside him, Trent’s jaw was tense, his eyes watching the distant horizon. “Yes.”

“Do you have any more insight?” Barry asked, searching Trent’s face. “Do you still believe it’s him?”

“I didn’t learn anything new, and I couldn’t tell you how I know... but I’m almost certain.”

Suddenly, a flash of orange lit the back of the western mountains. Like a meteor flying toward the heavens, an orb of blazing fire came into view, soaring upward and flaring. When it reached the clouds, it exploded, the blast brighter than the setting sun. Though it had the color of normal fire, that sickening chi flew from it, the wave potent enough to make more than a few of the congregation clutch their stomachs. Barry held firm, watching the flames as they burned out, leaving black streaks in their wake.

Trent’s upper lip twitched as he looked at the now-dull sky. “Nevermind. I’m one-hundred percent certain.” He spat to the side, a dark cloud passing over his face. “It’s my father. He has come.”


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