Heretical Fishing

Book 3: Chapter 13: Fusion

You might recall that one of the first lines of this manual is: “Do not share this work with anyone other than the Kraken bloodline or their immediate family.” But since then, I have repeatedly stressed the importance of helping others. Selflessness lies at the core of our philosophy, and yet, these instructions are to be kept secret, given only to those we deem worthy.

I am sure that you, a descendant of the great Kraken Rider, see the hypocritical nature of this expectation.

It is an unfortunate necessity. The meditations contained within the House Kraken manual are a path to knowledge—a road to power. If they were to fall into the wrong hands, great destruction could follow. So, what is a Kraken meditator to do? Where is the line between sharing enlightenment and endangering the world? If you were hoping for a black and white answer, I’m afraid I must disappoint. It is up to you to decide.

Fortunately, the guiding question is rather simple.

Which choice is better for your soul?

Excerpt from Chapter 13, House Kraken Manual

Beneath the shade of a colossal tree, the lord of Tropica village took deep, calming breaths.

George and Geraldine Kraken had both returned home, intent on resting after such a fraught twenty-four hours. Upon arriving there, however, sleep had eluded them both. They’d even tried meditating, but neither of them could focus. So they wandered the streets instead, trying to overwhelm their racing thoughts with exercise. They stared up at the giant canopy stretching above the surrounding roofs as they walked, and without realizing what they were doing, they’d arrived back at its base.

Though the sun had beamed down on them, the air was frosty, the night’s chill lingering. Exhausted and overwhelmed, George had sat and closed his eyes. The moment he did, he’d understood the magic of this place. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and within the space of a few breaths, he slipped into his meditation deeper than he thought possible. The world seemed to caress his very being as if he was supposed to be here. It was an alien yet wonderful experience.

He focused on his breathing, each inhalation seeming to reinvigorate and fill George with power. Geraldine squeezed his hand from her position on the grass beside him, also lost within herself. Villagers milled around, no doubt giving them odd looks. George cracked an eye, his curiosity getting the better of him.

In his wildest dreams, he’d never have guessed to find what he did.

The common folk were arrayed around them, but they weren’t staring. Their eyes were closed, their faces peaceful as they also sat on the grass. Most didn’t have the cross-legged posture that the House Kraken manual instructed, but some did, having either copied them or found it to be a comfortable position.

Though he couldn’t say why, the sight filled him with hope. He cast his gaze over the dozens of common folk, unable to stop himself from smiling. Movement caught his attention from one side of the trunk, and when he focused that way, he saw something that made his smile disappear.

What in Triton’s thundering conch...? he thought, gazing at the new arrivals.

Five robed individuals came scuttling into view. They had their hands held up in the approximation of crab claws, walking sideways to mimic the movement of the small crustaceans one could see milling on the rocks by the shore. Hissing sounds came from them, and when one accidentally bumped another, the assaulted individual spun on the spot, lashing out with his claw hands. They postured, hissing at each other before turning and following the other three crab walkers.

When they reached the rest of the villagers, they arranged themselves in a circle and crouched low. With his legs approaching of their own accord, George found himself standing above them. Geraldine had followed, also staring down at the confusing congregation.

George squatted down beside one of the men. “Excuse me...”

The man’s eyes shot open, glaring up at him. “What do you—O-oh... lord and lady...” His mouth moved inaudibly, clearly regretting his choice to lash out at.

“It’s okay,” George replied, keeping his voice low. “I wanted to know what you’re doing? I find your posture...”

“Unique,” Geraldine finished, also whispering.

The explanation seemed to mollify the robed man, and his posture relaxed. “We are the members of Tropica’s Cult of Carcinization. We are performing the duties of our faith.”

Carcinization...? George wondered.

At their muttered conversation, a few of the surrounding commoners glanced their way. Upon seeing the Cult of Carcinization imitating crabs, none of the common folk seemed surprised. Some smiled before closing their eyes once more. The cult must do this often…

Following an impulse, he turned back toward the man. “What is your name?”

“Joel, lord.”

“Please—just George is fine. Are you the cult’s local leader?”

“I am,” Joel replied, somehow appearing proud while folded like a deformed pretzel.

“Do you... mind if we join you?”

Joel’s eyes went wide, as did the rest of the cultists’.

“We would be honored, George.” Joel turned to Geraldine. “Will you be joining us too, er... my lady?”

“Geraldine,” she corrected, giving him a kind smile. “I would love to.”

“Is that okay...?” the female cultist asked, giving Joel a meaningful look. “It’s our secret doctrine...”

Joel waved his hand. “We’ve already shared it with Fischer. The more the merrier, I say.”

The mention of Fischer made George pause, but then the crab folk scuttled aside, making room for them in their circle.

Sweeping troubling thoughts away, George copied their posture as best he could. Remarkably, it was comfortable. The moment he closed his eyes, he felt the world blanketing him once more. But the metaphorical covering felt… different. It was hard to explain, almost like it was made from a different material—which made exactly zero sense because it wasn’t a physical object. Still, his body’s senses didn’t lie. As he slipped deeper into his meditation, he imagined energy flowing around him and pouring into his abdomen, just as House Kraken’s manual instructed.

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The moment he did, something within him vibrated. It was the same sensation that had occurred the previous night, but this time, outside events weren’t the cause. He was.

Geraldine took a shuddering gasp beside him. A spear of worry drove through George’s awareness, shattering his meditation. He reached over, grabbing her arm as his eyes flew open. “Geraldine?” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

She licked her lips, her eyes staring into the far distance before focusing on him. “I...” She leaned closer to him, replying under her breath, “I did the meditation practice from the Kraken manual...”

“Is everything okay?” Joel asked, looking a little annoyed at being interrupted.

“Everything is fine,” George replied. “We just need a moment.”

They stood and walked to the side, only stopping when they were outside of hearing range.

“I did too,” George said, his gaze meeting hers. “My core...”

“Vibrated?”

“Yeah...” He glanced back at the cult, seeing them already slipping back into a zen state. “There is something about that form they use. It reacted with our meditation...”

“They said it was part of their doctrine, right?” Her eyes searched his. “What do we do...?”

He knew the meaning behind Geraldine’s question. Neither of them had given thought to the claim that the Cult of Carcinization’s crab form was some sort of secret, but it had definitely reacted with his family’s technique. It placed George in a moral dilemma; he had been given access to the cult’s secret, and it had reacted to his own family’s secret—something he was under direct instruction not to share with anyone other than the Kraken bloodline or their immediate family.

He glanced back at the cultists, his morality torn in two directions.

“Poseidon’s backwash,” he hissed. “What do we do?”

She chewed her lip, turning to ponder the cultists. Abruptly, she let out a light giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, unable to stop himself from smiling at her beautiful laugh.

“The manual literally tells us, George.”

“... it does?”

Her returned glance was filled with meaning. “What is better for your soul?” she quoted.

“What is better for my soul...” he repeated, tasting its implications.

He didn’t have to consider long. “I love you, you know that?”

“I do, dear.” She got up on her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek. “I love you too.”

George and Geraldine returned to the circle hand in hand, and when they took up their crab-like form once more, George cleared his throat.

Joel cracked an eye, raising an annoyed brow at them.

“I have something to share,” George said, keeping his voice low. “It is something passed down by my family, and though I ask you to keep it a secret among your branch, it may help your meditation...”

If any of them had already taken steps on the path of ascension, they’d have felt a great curiosity radiating from the tree that towered above them, shielding them from the midday sun.

***

It was a beautiful day. The sun was high in the sky, my girlfriend was by my side, Corporal Claws was only being a little annoying, and two filets of fish sizzled on the barbecue before me.

My barbecue, I thought, shimmying in glee.

“Are you feeling okay?” Maria asked, smirking at me.

“Feeling great, thanks! I was just trying to shake Claws free.”

With an indignant chirp, an otter’s head appeared before me, lowered from her position atop my head.

“Just kidding,” I replied, scratching the soft fur behind her ear.

She chirped, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as I scritched just the right place.

A wonderful aroma rose from the barbecue. The scents of fish and wood smoke made my stomach growl. I stared down at the cooking filets, watching bubbles form around the tallow I’d oiled the surface with. Just as the meal was almost ready, I heard a new arrival scuttling across the front deck and heading our way.

Sergeant Snips slid into view, blowing a stream of happy bubbles that abruptly stopped when she caught sight of Claws smacking my forehead with both paws. Snips pointed an accusatory clacker her way, hissing a demand that she get down. Claws leaped to the ground in response, chirping back a downright rude insult. They stared at each other for a long moment, everyone going silent as we watched the standoff.

Claws made the first move.

Lightning erupted, wreathing her body as she shot for Snips. Ready for the ambush, Snips batted her aside, sending Claws flying into the sand. Before she stopped moving, Snips was on her, blue chi oozing from her carapace and powering her passage. Claws retreated into the river in the blink of an eye, pausing only to give Snips a rude gesture with her paw.

I smiled as Snips dove into the water after her.

“Never a dull day, huh?” Theo asked, walking into view.

“Never, mate.” I agreed. “How did it go with the cultivators?”

“Good! I got through them faster than I thought and we only had to imprison three more.”

“Five in total?” Barry asked. “Those are better numbers than we expected.”

“Agreed! Even better, it was the newer cultivators that subdued them. They took it upon themselves to help.”

“See?” I asked, winking at Barry. “You don’t need me in control! It’s all in hand!”

Theo laughed. “I told you Fischer wouldn’t go for it.”

Barry sighed. “You were right, unfortunately.”

I grinned at Theo. “Did you come to try some barbecue-cooked fish?”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested, but I actually came to tell you something.”

“Hold that thought.” I removed the now-cooked fish from the heat with a pair of tongs. “It’s ready.”

I gazed around at my friends, seeing hunger reflected in their eyes.

With practiced moves, I cut the fish into equal portions. Steam escaped as I broke the filets apart, making an irresistible scent waft over my back deck. The outside of the fish was crispy and had turned golden brown, a stark contrast to the white flesh within. I grabbed a bowl of salt, sprinkling it liberally over the meal.

“I think we should try it with just salt at first. We have plenty of time to experiment with our other seasonings...” I picked up the board and held it out to everyone. “Help yourselves.”

Maria strode to the end of the deck. “Sniiips! Claaaws!” she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth.

Before she’d made it back to me, the animal pals in question were racing across the sand. Everyone took a piece of fish, and I waited for Claws and Snips to claim theirs before grabbing one myself. I threw Borks a piece, and as it sailed through the air, we all bit down.

My teeth crunched through the skin, easily parting the thin golden-brown layer. The flavor was subtle, yet undeniably changed from being cooked on a barbecue. The umami notes were deeper than only the salt should have made it, and I closed my eyes as the tastes washed over me. I lost track of my other senses, the delicate flesh melting in my mouth.

An mmmm escaped Roger’s throat.

I stole a peek, smiling at his unveiled enjoyment of the seafood.

“Mmmm,” Maria agreed, leaning her head against my shoulder.

I ate slowly, yet all too soon, the meal was finished. It definitely had stronger chi than regular shore fish, just as the barbecue’s description said, but I was fairly sure the food hadn’t been granted boon.

“Roger,” I said. “Thank you for helping me build this beauty.” I gestured emphatically at the barbecue. “I needed this in my life.”

“I wish you’d made it sooner,” Theo added.

“Me too, mate. Me too.” I took a deep breath, willing the fish’s flavor to linger. “All right, Theo. What did you come to tell me?”

“Oh. Right. When we went to the cells with the five that tried to escape or failed my questioning, the Osnans were awake.”

“I guess one more adult job for the day won’t hurt...” I waggled my eyebrows at Barry. “See? I can take part without being the actual leader of a cult.”

“Church.”

I waved a hand. “Semantics. Let’s go have a chat with some noble pricks.”