Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 70: Hatchling

In the fading afternoon light, Cinnamon woke from a wonderful nap atop the headland rocks. She stretched her body out, lounging in the cushions comprising the nest she lay in. The female pelican hatchling she was curled around let out a soft peep, complaining at being woken. Cinnamon peered out at her charge, taking in the down covering the pelican’s entire body. It was almost the same color as her own cinnamon fur, and was, frustratingly, even softer. The bird had grown an incredible amount over the last week or so since her hatching, and was now half as big as Cinnamon.

Has it really been a week already? Cinnamon wondered.

The days had blurred into one, her latent maternal instincts kicking in and letting her focus on nothing but the life dependent on her. Those same instincts were the reason she had kept the hatchling isolated—though she knew not why, she was certain that keeping her charge unsocialized for the first few weeks of life was integral to development.

As much as Cinnamon loved doing pranks on others and being a general nuisance, she was forced to admit that nurturing the baby bird currently falling back asleep was even more rewarding. Knowing it was time for another feeding soon, Cinnamon nudged the pelican’s head. The hatchling peeped in protest, but Cinnamon persisted, nudging her again.

With perfect timing, Bill came soaring up over the side of the rock. The hatchling, who looked at Cinnamon with what she thought was certainly annoyance, perked up immediately. She opened her bill, facing her wide-open maw toward Warrant Officer Williams. He landed beside her, stretched his crop, then started dropping baitfish in. She ate each one whole as fast as they came, somehow fitting them into her tiny, down-covered body. Cinnamon had been amazed the first time she saw how much food such a small bird could eat, but quickly grew used to it.

When the steady stream of baitfish from Bill came to an end, the hatchling settled down, lowering herself into a rather cute little loaf. Bill reached back, ruffled through the feathers of his back, and withdrew a stalk of sugarcane. He held it out to Cinnamon, and she happily accepted, letting out a thankful squeak as she munched on the delicious treat.

Bill nodded once, then turned and took flight, heading back out to sea.

***

A full moon rose high above us, shining its light across the landscape. The campfire’s flames licked at the logs within it, orange tingeing our surroundings with each flicker. Each night for the past two weeks since Maria and I had discussed moving in, we’d practiced my cooking—Well, I’d been practicing, but she was ever by my side. Tonight was no different. No one had spoken since the meal began; the only sounds to be heard were the churning ocean and my animal pals’ enthusiastic crunching as they bit down into golden crumbs. Snips, Claws, Pistachio, and Rocky were all partaking, each as intent as the next.

“Cheers!” I tapped mine to hers, and we bit down at the same time.

I had worried that the taste of the chi-enhanced fish would lose its luster once I got used to it. Each meal since, this one included, proved just how wrong I was. The flavor exploded across my taste buds, the fish’s juices mixing with the crumbs and tallow it was fried in. As I chewed the mouthful, I breathed in through my nose. The sweet air was a perfect companion to the savory bombardment assaulting my senses. I ate each bite slowly, lingering in the moment as long as possible.

A loud honk drew my attention, and I whirled toward it.

“Bill! I was wondering where you were—there’s fish to...” I trailed off, seeing the two creatures on his back.

Cinnamon’s ears were alert as she sat up, wiggling her little body in excitement. Sitting down before her, an unrecognizable bird peered out at the world with curiosity. The last time I’d seen the bird, she looked like a plucked lorikeet. Now, she was... well, she looked like a small pelican. Soft down the same color as Cinnamon’s fur covered most of her body, interspersed with small brown feathers that grew from her head, chest, and around her wings. Most impressive was her size. She stood up and hopped from Bill’s back under Cinnamon’s guidance—she was already bigger than the bunny.

“I knew baby birds grew quickly, but damn...” Maria said, a look of shock on her face that mirrored my own thoughts.

Bill puffed his chest out in pride, but it was nothing compared to Cinnamon. She looked downright smug, her eyes twinkling and head held high.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” I asked. “I thought we were banned from seeing your child—you’ve chased me away every time I came to check up on things.”

Bill actually blushed, a pink tone rising to his yellow pouch. With a reassuring paw resting over the hatchling’s back, Cinnamon pointed another toward us. I followed the gesture; she was pointing directly at the small pile of deep-fried fish.

My eyes widened. “For her...?”

Cinnamon nodded, her eyes laced with anticipation. Cocking my head to the side, I extended my awareness toward the adolescent pelican. Two weeks spent moving chi around while cooking had given me an unforeseen level of control over the essence flooding the world, and I channeled every ounce of experience I’d gained. Cinnamon and Bill’s cores—and the power held within—drew me in, but I brushed past them, honing in on the curious bird. There was no core present—no nexus of power holding chi. I furrowed my forehead, digging deeper, sharpening my attention, focusing... there. Within her body, only marginally stronger than the chi flowing all around us, power circulated. Given time, she would ascend if they kept nurturing and feeding her, but Cinnamon thought that now was the time to force the issue.

“You’re positive, Cinnamon?”

She nodded again, letting out a peep filled with certainty.

“You too, Bill?”

He nodded, just as sure.

Without another word, I plucked some chi-enhanced fish from the pile, broke a bit off, and flicked it toward them. Bill caught it from the air and slowly lowered it down to his adopted daughter. Sensing a meal, she opened wide, letting out a half-honk, half-peep as she awaited the morsel. Bill dropped it, and she ate it whole. I held my breath, watching the hatchling. My heart pounded in my ears, the only sound I registered as the seconds stretched on. She opened her bill again to beg for more food, and just as I thought it may have not worked, she froze. Her head darted back, going still as her eyes glazed over.

And then I felt it.

The chi held within the food had already spread throughout most of her body. All of it flowed toward her abdomen, even now filling the core I could feel coming into existence. When that nexus of power was almost filled to bursting, it solidified. A pulse came from her, flooding over the landscape and making an immutable sense of euphoria swell within me.

My skin tingled in the aftermath, and just as I started to wonder about the effect of awakening an adolescent, a blinding light shone from across the fire. As was becoming a frequent occurrence for me, time slowed to a crawl. The chi within the pelican vibrated as it bloomed, spreading to encompass every last feather on her tiny frame.

It didn’t stop there.

Her form shifted as ligaments extended and bones grew. With each adjustment, she became more… real. Her plumage sprouted in earnest, and it was as if each feather that finished growing was a piece of a puzzle slipping into place. When the change was finished, I was left with a feeling of contentment, like the world was more whole.

I held up a hand, squinting against the dazzling gleam as time returned to normal. Even before the light disappeared, I knew what I’d find.

With the blinding flash withdrawing, the fire’s orange glow and the full moon above us once more lit our surroundings. A now fully grown pelican sat between Bill and Cinnamon, looking cartoonishly perplexed. Her feathers were a dark brown, yet had a sheen that reflected the moon’s light. Her body was a slightly different shape to Bill’s; she was smaller, her features more feminine.

The newly awakened bird looked at Bill, Cinnamon, the rest of the gang, and then me.

“Honk…?”

I couldn’t help laughing at the sheer bewilderment on her face. “I’m as confused as you are.”

Her eyes went vacant as she stared off into the distance with a look of supreme discomfort, as if the knowledge of ten-thousand scholars flowed into her. It was reminiscent of those videos back on Earth of someone putting sliced cheese on a cat, making them malfunction. She leaned back, and if not for Cinnamon’s guiding paw, would have fallen over. All of my animal pals were gravitating toward her, slowly advancing.

“Claws,” I said, making the otter’s head dart my way and cock to the side. “Sorry, but would you mind going to get Ellis? He’ll complain for a week if we don’t at least invite him to whatever is happening.”

Her eyes sparkled at the task, and after a serious chirp, she tore off across the sand with lightning flowing from her legs.

“Is she getting faster?” Maria asked.

She was gone in the blink of an eye, only dust remaining to tell of her passing.

“I think so...” I replied, smiling at the overenthusiastic otter.

***

Everything. The pelican was learning... everything. It poured into her with unerring incessence, each detail finding a place to settle within her awareness. It was enlightening, marvelous, and objectively uncomfortable. She was only vaguely aware of her body tilting backwards, her brain too occupied to worry about trivial details like spatial positioning.

… spatial positioning?

The words, unfortunately, made sense. A disorienting flash of images and ideas raced through her mind’s eye simultaneously, firmly slamming into place the knowledge of both concepts.

Something caught her. No, not something—someone. A… bunny. The word made a slew of relevant information jump out at her. Adolescent rabbit. Mammal. Herbivore. Burrower. Low intelligence. The bunny had caught her; not a regular rabbit, then. Awakened. Again, a deluge of information jumped out. Awakened. Spirit animal. Enhanced cognition. On the path of ascension. It was what she was—what she had become.

Why was the bunny helping her, though? Spirit animals were... self serving. More knowledge slid forward. Memories of the past weeks. The bunny had been there from the beginning. Warming her. Caring for her. The bunny, a creature of an entirely different species, had acted as her mother. Even now, the mammal held her body with tenderness and support.

It made her feel... nice. With what little attention she could spare, she leaned her head down, resting it atop the small bunny’s head.