Heretical Fishing

Chapter 66: Holiday

With a loud pop, the lobster's vision was engulfed by white.

He opened and closed his trusty pincers as a sense of unbridled confusion grew.

Taking in the surrounding landscape, he slowly shifted to glance all around him as color returned to the world.

Walls of rock were on either side, and a single opening lay ahead that let in light.

He recognised the cave—his home—from memories that felt distant, yet from only a moment ago.

A slow trickle of information chipped away at his confusion, yet brought with it more questions than he could fathom.

His vision cleared further, and from the entrance to his domain, he saw an enemy.

He scuttled back reflexively, wanting to get further into the safety his cave provided, but as the lines of the creature before him snapped into focus, a spark of recognition took hold.

I know... crab?

Memories flashed through his mind; the crab checking on him, repeatedly bringing him food, and, most pleasing of all, bringing him to this wonderful, safe place he called home.

With claws extended, the lobster inched his way toward the light, eyes locked on the creature beyond.

***

Maria and I followed the setting sun; its passage toward the western mountains heralded our journey.

A cold wind blew at our backs, a tailwind that made it seem like the world itself urged us on.

"So, have you traveled in this direction much before?" I asked.

She shook her head, eyes trailing the retreating sun.

"Not really, no. There was the time we traveled to Tropica for the first time, of course, but other than that, I've never really left..."

While I knew life as a farmer in my new world was a different experience to living on Earth, something about that statement really nailed home how distant I was from my previous existence.

Life here is a constant battle to survive for the common folk. There might not be bandits, roaming wolves, or goblin attacks as I worried about upon my arrival here, but that doesn't mean life isn't filled with challenges.

Growing enough food to survive, and keeping her family healthy without the aid of modern medicine, was challenging enough that, by her account, she’d never—in her entire life—had a holiday.

It was a sad realization.

"Well," I said, "hopefully that makes this trip all the more enjoyable."

She grunted, shifting her bag from one shoulder to another.

"Do you want me to carry that?" I asked.

"Oh, no. I'm fine—I may have over-packed a little, though..."

"Are you sure? You can hold the rod, and having a bag on each shoulder will even me out."

She shifted her weight again, the physical load warring with her desire to not be a burden.

"Please," I urged. "It'll make both our loads easier."

She frowned, her lips pressed together.

I pressed the advantage.

"Besides, I'm an absolute klutz, and I'm likely to break my favorite rod by getting it caught on something. You're much more coordinated, so it'll be safer in your hands."

She turned and squinted, but a barely concealed smile threatened to take over.

"Fine, we can swap." She grinned at me, raising an eyebrow. "But only because I won't be able to fish if you break the rod."

I laughed and held the rod out to her; she offered her bag in exchange.

"Thank you, Fischer. You're sweet."

I bowed at the waist.

"Anything for my lady. I'd not be able to face your lord father if any damage came to your person."

"Hestia's maternal urges—don't even joke about that. I wouldn't want my lord father to remove that handsome head of yours."

I straightened up, the weight of both bags nothing before my improved body.

"I have a handsome head?"

I glanced at her, delighting in the blush I saw peeking through her tanned and freckled skin.

***

"There!" I said, pointing at my discovery. "I knew it was around here somewhere."

"Wow," Maria said, "you weren't wrong—it held up pretty well…"

I walked up to my shelter, the last one I'd built before heading into Tropica for the first time.

It's probably big enough for both of us to sleep under, but a little more room would be best.

"Alright, let's begin."

Maria cocked her head.

"Begin what...?"

I smirked.

"The renovations, of course!"

***

"Are these leaves okay?" Maria asked.

"They're perfect—thank you!"

I grabbed the palm-like fronds and put them next to the pile of leaves I'd removed from the frame.

"Let's split these fronds in half, like so."

I pinched the thick end of one, and with a smooth movement, split it in two. I then wedged a fingernail under one side, and gripping the long fibers, pulled a strip off to use as string.

With a smile, I held the rope of fibers up to Maria.

"I brought string to tie the frame together, but if you're ever lacking the correct materials, you can make string out of plants you find in the forest—like these."

She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"Trial and error," I lied, unsure how to explain the concept of tutorial videos.

I held up an unsplit frond.

"You try—it's not as hard as you might think."

As she tried splitting a palm lead, I picked up the sticks I'd gathered. They were longer than the ones I'd used previously—a necessity for the increased floor space this new shelter would have.

Planting two of the sticks firmly in the ground, I held the tips together, overlapping each other by a few centimeters.

I waited patiently as she split the frond, then removed a length of fibers as I'd shown her.

"Like this?" she asked.

"Exactly like that. Bring it over here and try tying the frame with it—loop it around where the sticks connect."

She did so, deft fingers easily looping the handmade string back and forth over the sticks.

"Keep going?" she asked.

"Yep, until you've used almost all of it."

She stopped when a small length of the line remained, and I grabbed her hand, guiding the end of the fibers under the last loop she'd made.

"Pull it tight," I said.

She nodded, holding the knot steady with one hand as she pulled the end, cinching it into place.

I shook the frame lightly; it held firm.

Raising an eyebrow, I grinned.

"You're sure you haven't done this before?"

She shrugged.

"I have an excellent teacher—besides, I’ve always been good with my hands."

“Maria! Phrasing!”

She cocked her head in confusion, but upon realizing what she’d said, her cheeks went beet red.

I laughed uproariously, ducking the thrown stick.

***

I woke in the middle of the night to an unexpected nudge in the side.

With bleary eyes, I blinked, taking in my surroundings.

The dying embers of our campfire gave the inside of the tent an orange glow, and it took me a long moment to remember where I was.

An icy breeze blew into the shelter, even more frigid than usual after the sun's departure.

The nudge hit my side again, and I cast about, searching for Maria. I expected to find her awake, warning me of some danger, and a spike of panic began welling up.

My thoughts vanished as the nudge came one more time, and I looked down.

Maria was asleep, curled in on herself and shivering slightly under the chilly breeze. She stirred, still not awake, her body subconsciously searching for heat.

I lifted the end of my blanket and tucked it over her, giving her another layer of warmth.

As the blanket hit, she rolled over, her back coming up against my side.

I froze, my body reacting to her touch.

Her head tilted back, coming to rest on my shoulder, and I put my head back on my pillow, breathing shallow breaths so as not to wake her.

She shuffled back again, her body craving the heat mine was exuding.

After a few breaths that felt like a lifetime, I tilted my chin toward her, softly resting it atop the back of her head.

My heart raced as the floral scent of her hair consumed my world. I wouldn't get much rest that night—or so I thought; before I knew it, I'd drifted back to sleep, thoughts of her running rampant through my mind.

***

When I opened my eyes, the rising sun peeked over the trees, bathing my surroundings in its welcome light.

I stretched my arms up, unleashing a yawn.

"Did you sleep well, princess?" Maria asked, voice laden with mirth.

I left my head, glaring out at her.

"Princess?"

"You certainly sleep like one—well, except for the snoring."

"Snoring?

I sat bolt upright.

"I snore?"

She cackled, leaning back from where she stoked the fire.

"No—well, kind of. You make soft noises, but I wouldn't exactly call it snoring." She shook her head with an exaggerated shrug. "Your reaction to learning you snore doesn't help the princess attitude, though..."

I stepped from the tent, squinting against the sun's light as I stretched as high as I could.

"Can you give me five minutes to wake up before you start teasing me? I don't even know where I am right now."

She pouted.

"Absolutely not! Your wits are too sharp when you're awake, so an early morning ambush is just good warfare."

"Good warfare? What have I gotten myself into...?"

She giggled, the sound lilting and soft.

"Being the daughter of a career-soldier turned grumpy-farmer has its benefits."

I walked over to my pack and collected my bundle of treasure.

"What's that," she asked?

I smiled.

"Brekkie."

She gave me a flat stare.

"Can I assume that means breakfast?"

I sat down beside her, untying the cloth bundle.

"You can."

I spread the cloth wide, revealing a pile of golden croissants, and a bottle of brown liquid.

Maria made a surprised noise.

"Is that what I think it is?"

I nodded, giving her a knowing smile.

"What's a good brekkie without some of Tropica's finest coffee?"

***

I bit into a warmed bun, my eyes going wide.

"Wow—it's sweet."

The soft bun, combined with a pleasant amount of sugar, reminded me of the sweet buns I'd tried in Japan a lifetime ago.

Maria quirked an eyebrow at me.

"You know we're sugarcane farmers, right? What did you expect?"

"Touche..." I said around a mouthful of the pillowy dough. "Don't tell Sue, but your buns might be even better than hers."

Maria smirked at me.

“Who needs to watch their phrasing now?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but my brain betrayed me, and I closed it again, lost for what to say.

Maria laughed at me, shaking her head.

"Wow, you really are defenseless first thing in the morning—I’ll have to keep that in mind. I can't take the credit for the pastries—Mum made them."

“Well, pass her my compliment,” I said, forging past her comment, and my lack thereof. “These things are delicious.”

We had a croissant and bun each, and I took a bite of my croissant, relishing in the contrast its flaky and buttery texture gave.

Seeing the enjoyment on my face, Maria followed suit, and she let out an appreciative mmm as she chewed.

Wisps of steam started rising from the saucepan atop the fire, so I reached over, stirring it with the wooden spoon. I kept it moving, wanting to keep the liquid inside from burning. I didn't know if it could burn, to be honest, but I didn't intend to find out.

When the steam was billowing up from the surface in a steady stream, I removed it from the fire. I carefully poured it into our cups, then passed one to Maria.

"Coffee's ready."

"Thank you," she said, putting her plate down and accepting it with both hands.

"Careful—it'll be scorching."

She held the cup to her nose, breathing deep of the rising vapor.

"It smells strong..."

I took a whiff of my own cup.

"Yeah, it will taste a lot stronger without any milk. I had Sharon water it down—this is what you'd call a long black where I come from."

"You never did tell me where you're from, Fischer. You have the funniest names for things."

I took a sip of my coffee, savoring its bold flavor. My go-to drink was a flat white, but there were periods in my previous life where long blacks were the drink of choice. I breathed out a content sigh, the heat of the coffee making me blow a cloud of vapor.

Maria followed suit, and her face scrunched as she tasted it. She swallowed and took a quick bite of her croissant.

"That's not as nice as the coffee with milk..."

I smiled at her.

"Yeah, black coffee is more of an acquired taste. Still, better than no coffee at all, in my opinion."

She took another small sip, once more chasing it with a bit of pastry. She chewed it slowly before swallowing.

"They're quite nice together..."

I nodded.

"Some people like dunking their croissants in coffee."

She raised an eyebrow, looking between her food and drink.

She dunked a corner of the exposed croissant and bit into it; her face immediately transformed into disgust. She chewed and swallowed as fast as she could.

"Yeah, that's not for me."

I fought down a smirk.

"It's usually done with milky coffee, to be honest..."

She picked up a stick and threw it at me.

"You could have told me that before I tried that horrid combination!"

Her outrage removed the stopper on my mirth, and I let out a loud laugh.

"Sorry—it wasn't intentional."

She shook her head, hair swaying around her face.

"So, you avoided the question of where you're from pretty smoothly, but I'm still curious. I think you might owe me the information after that cruel and intentional prank..."

She wiggled her eyebrows, but I knew her words held a hint of truth; she wanted to know.

How much can I tell her without putting either of us at risk...?

"What do you know about places other than the kingdom you live in?"

"Not too much, to be honest. I know there's another kingdom called Theogonia that dad fought against when he was still in the army. Other than that, I know other places exist, but they're far, far away."

I nodded, slowly coming to a decision.

"I come from a place called Earth..."

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