Heretical Fishing

Book 3: Chapter 11: Apprentices

The cloud of power flew into Roger’s core, expanding its bounds.

When the foreign essence joined with his, it took on the same blade-like aspect. I knew what would come next, so I dashed forward, letting my own chi spew from my abdomen. A pure bubble of white wrapped around Roger and me just in time. Uncountable arcs of power shot out from him, slamming into my shield and doing their best to tear it apart.

I raised another layer of chi between Roger and me, my eyes going wide as I felt the strength of each blow.

If I hadn’t been here, the smithy would likely have been ripped apart. No matter how reinforced the building was, the myriad waves of essence shooting from Roger’s core were too numerous. Too sharp. Each projection’s blade was sharper than a scalpel and stronger than forged steel. More still flew from him, striking the barriers I’d raised and threatening to shred them. I clenched my jaw and focused my will on keeping them contained, but some slipped through beneath his feet, hitting the stone bricks there and cutting deep into them.

Finally, his reserves died out, and the hail of blades came to an end. Roger slumped, his body going limp and dropping to the floor.

I released my shields and appeared at his side in an instant, catching him before his head struck the ground. I sat him upright, holding his back so he couldn’t fall over. He came to abruptly, and he blinked as he looked around, stopping only when his gaze landed on the bricks below. His swords of chi had sliced into the stone, leaving a flower-like pattern in the area beneath him.

“Was... was that me?”

“Yup,” I replied. “I did my best to shield the workshop, but I couldn’t get the barrier close enough to—” My head darted toward the doorway as I felt nature chi approaching.

Corporal Claws skidded to a stop, lightning still wreathing her body as she peered into the workshop. I gave her a thumbs up and a small shooing gesture. She grinned, waved, and dashed from sight.

“You had a breakthrough, mate. You’ll feel chi better now, and you might be able to extend your abilities along objects. It could only be System-made items, though...? I’m not really sure. I’ve only managed to do it with my fishing rod.”

“Breakthrough...” Roger repeated, tasting the words. “You mean that time you lost control like a moron and almost blew up Theo, Barry, and the hellhound?”

“Hey! First, his name is Borks. You know that. Second, you almost did the same! If not for me being here, you would have...” I narrowed my eyes at the—was that a spark of amusement in his eye? “You’re fracking with me, aren’t you?”

Before he could reply, another source of chi approached. Ellis appeared in the doorway with Sergeant Snips’s claw hooked around his leg, trying to stop him from entering.

“I just need to speak to them for a moment. I will not take up much of their—”

A mass of fur slammed into him. Claws rode Borks’s bulldog form into battle, giving me a wide grin as they took out Ellis’s legs. Before he could fall to the ground, Cinnamon appeared. She was as fast as a bullet, and she struck Ellis’s airborne body with a vicious flying kick. He flew from sight, and half a second later, I heard the sound of him striking something in the far distance.

Claws gave me a thumbs up, scooped Cinnamon out of the air, and smacked Borks on his rotund rump. Her noble steed took off, his paws scrambling for purchase on the stone street for a moment before they disappeared from view. I shook my head, grateful for their intervention and not at all surprised by their methods.

When I turned back to Roger, he was staring at his hands, somehow blissfully unaware of Ellis’s ejection.

“Well, mate,” I said. “It looks like you might get your wish.”

“My wish?” he asked, slowly looking up at me.

“To protect everyone. Other than me, you’re now the strongest cultivator we know.”

“How much stronger...?”

“Your core is still a little weaker than mine, but the next person after you isn’t even close.”

He pursed his lips, getting lost in his thoughts. “You were right about my increased awareness. I can feel the chi everywhere. It’s—” His head shot around to stare at the furnace. “I... I can feel the aspect of the essence there. It’s fire. It wants to consume...”

“Yep. And I can feel your blade aspect. Or maybe it’s a sword aspect? I don’t really know, to be honest. One thing’s for sure: it’s sharp as frack.”

His hand drifted down to his abdomen, and as he tested his core, he smiled faintly. It was the closest thing to joy I’d ever seen cross his face, other than when he was looking at Maria or Sharon. I knew exactly what he was feeling; I’d felt much the same after my breakthrough. Even now, I could recall how ‘right’ the world seemed afterward. Like I was closer to who I was meant to be.

“So...” I cleared my throat. “You’ve had a long day. Should we pause the whole barbecue thing? We can pick up where we left off tomorrow or something if you want to go explore your power.”

“No,” he replied, getting to his feet. “We see it through.”

I shrugged. “Works for me, mate. I’ve wanted a bloody barbecue plate forever.”

We went back to the mold, finding it mostly undisturbed despite Roger having unleashed an anime-finishing-move within the confines of the smithy. Roger used the wooden block to flatten the graphite carbon again while I went around the edges with a chisel, using its small surface to create a uniform indent for the lip.

Though I was focused on the plate, part of my awareness felt the surrounding chi. Roger was doing the same, using trickles of his newfound power to taste the outside word. Just as I was making the finishing touches with the chisel, there was a fluctuation in the essence behind me. I turned, pouting as I stared at the furnace. The fire there had dulled, and when I strode over, I found the ingots within melted into a red-hot slag.

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“The smithy turned the heat down by itself...?” I asked aloud.

“It does that,” Roger grumbled from beside me. “Are you ready to pour?”

I nodded, and with a large prong each, we removed it from the coals.

“Go slowly,” Roger said as we arrived at the bench.

I nodded again, matching him as he tilted the crucible to let molten metal stream into the mold.

“I have to admit that I didn’t just bring you here to tell you about my past, Fischer.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. What else did you wanna say?”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed my... annoyance with you.”

“Annoyance?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’d have described it as loathing. Or perhaps the hatred of 1000 Rockys.”

Roger gave me a flat look.

I laughed. “Yeah, mate. I’ve noticed. Why is that? Other than the whole turning the two people you love into what you hate the most thing.

“It was about that at first, and you being a heretical fool most of the time didn’t help.”

“Agreed. Why do I annoy you now, though?”

Roger stared at the mold as we filled it with molten metal. He scrunched his face, letting some of the emotions I was used to seeing show. “It’s because you refuse to take control.”

“Take control? Of the church?”

He nodded. “You have a responsibility to everyone. All of those that have become cultivators. Especially my daughter.” His face further contorted in displeasure, but rather than unleash the verbal tirade no-doubt begging to be flung my way, he took a deep breath and sighed. “You say you love her, yet you’re not doing everything in your power to protect her.”

My skin prickled. And it had nothing to do with the heat radiating from the crucible beside me. “I don’t think that’s really fair, mate. First, I would do anything to protect Maria. But how much do you expect me to take responsibility for? I had no choice in being sent here, and even if I wasn’t in Tropica, cultivators would be popping up. Just look at Sturgill. He—”

“But you are here,” Roger interrupted, turning to look at me. His eyes held an echo of the flames they did earlier when he spoke of the cultivator that had taken his friends’ lives. “You have the power and obligation to lead, yet you’d rather sit around and fish, of all things. It pisses me off. When are you going to step up?”

“Step up...? What do you think I’ve been doing?” I let some of my indignation into my voice. “Of course Ifeel responsible, which is exactly why I went to the capital for Operation whatever-the-frack, then went personally to deal with the Osnan prick in Tropica. I might not want the responsibility of leadership or the burden of knowledge, but it’s not like I’m sitting on my hands and letting everyone take on deadly trials.”

“You’re just proving my point, Fischer.” Roger peered into the crucible as we upended it, letting the last of the molten iron pour out into the mold. “You’re already helping out sometimes, so why not just be a man and do what you’re supposed to?”

“First off, that’s sexist. Second, because I don’t bloody want to. I’ve lived that life, Roger. All it brings is misery!” I sighed as we set down the crucible, its contents having been emptied. “I want to spend my time with the woman I love, my friends, and do as much fishing as humanly possible. Why is that so bad?”

Roger shook his head. “I think you’ll find your friends more and more unreachable, Fischer. Do you really think all our problems are gone now that you freed the cultivators from Gormona? If you truly believe that, you’re more of a fool than you look. It doesn’t matter how many people you beat down or defeat—another will come crawling from the woodwork. There is always a bigger bully waiting their turn.”

“Yeah, well, that might all be true, but we need to set it aside for now.” I closed my eyes for a moment, willing my growing frustration to disappear.

“Why?” Roger demanded. “You got somewhere better to be?”

“What? No. We need to pour our will into the barbecue.“ I pointed down at the cooling metal. “We haven’t got long to shape it.”

“Oh...” Roger’s pout looked almost sheepish, and I tried to sear it into my memory. “Fine,” he said, staring back down at the mold. “Let’s do it.”

As I focused on the still-molten iron, my awareness instinctively felt Roger’s chi. It still had the same qualities—like it could lash out and cut at any moment—but it was now in control. As he directed it down towards the barbecue plate to be, I sent all my attention with it, banishing the concept of him being a threat from my mind.

Roger’s challenge left me on edge, but with each passing second, I sank more and more into the present. Essence flowed all around us, the world’s reserves swiftly returning after so much of the surrounding strands had rushed into Roger. They wound by, languidly traveling to and fro.

As my chi caressed the metal, I pictured what I wanted to create. A slab of cast iron, large enough to cook meals for all of my pals. I wanted it to be a source of sustenance, community, and friendship. Following my lead, Roger’s will joined mine. I felt the mental equivalent of a mocking laugh come from him when he understood the intentions I was guiding the creation with, but he quickly swept his derision aside and reinforced my plans with his intent.

Power pulsed from both of our cores, traveling down into the cooling mold. The stone bricks of the smithy seemed to vibrate, responding to our efforts. The world’s essence answered too, oozing in from all sides, almost inquisitively.

Then, it raced toward the metal.

As it had done to Roger, chi slammed into the barbecue plate. I increased the amount coming from my core, letting as much out as the universe demanded. Roger did the same, and after only a few seconds, it began taking shape.

Usually, when the transformation of System-made objects began, the item would blur, becoming impossible to focus on. This time, I saw each adjustment in exacting detail. The barbecue plate… wobbled, for lack of a better word. It moved like a liquid, rippling and never quite sitting still. The edges slowly expanded, making the thick frame splinter and warp.

Graphite carbon poured out onto the workbench as the barbecue plate took shape, becoming defined once more. White light exploded from it, bathing me in warmth, and suddenly, even brighter beams shone from Roger, making my core hum.

I exhaled, looking up at our creation as Roger caught the bag of coins that appeared in the air beside him.

I’d thought the original mold he created was big; the thing sitting on the bench before us made it pale by comparison. The plate had almost quadrupled in size, and if it had gotten any larger, it wouldn’t have fit out the smithy’s door. It was thicker too, having somehow used our chi to add extra metal. More importantly, it was no longer just a plate—it had grown legs. A hollow body sat beneath its cooking surface, perfect for burning wood within. And a chrome button had sprouted on the front, which I suspected was some sort of fire starter.

I couldn’t contain my excitement; I had a whole-ass barbecue.

My eyes were drawn into it.

Cast Iron Barbecue of the Ascendant Apprentices

Rare

Created by kindred blacksmith apprentices, this barbecue is a representation of their bond. Food cooked upon its surface receives a boost to chi content and may be granted a random boon.

Requirement: 25 cooking.

A random boon…? I wondered, shaking my head to dismiss the words.

“Damn, Roger,” I said, smirking and raising an eyebrow his way. “Looks like we’re kindred spirits…”

“Shut up, Fischer,” he growled, but I didn’t miss the hidden smile as he stared down at our creation.