BOOK 5: POSEIDON'S SALTY WHAT?

Heretical Fishing

I poured out a single, condensed pillar of chi. It shone into the bowl and melted the sand in an instant, blistering enough to blacken and harden the molten glass. I couldn’t let it. I drew back some of my power, stabilizing the temperature.

“Next, we separate the strands.”

I flooded more will from my soul, ordering it to be so. When it found the liquid glass, it faltered, finding issue with the impossible number of distinct fibres I was imagining.

“Remember how I mentioned inspiration?” I asked Maria. “That was my reason for making Snips’s eyepatch here.”

She nodded.

“I wasn’t talking about inspiration for her garment.” I allowed myself a smile. “I wanted inspiration for this.”

Just like I’d done with the bamboo’s grain, I forced my chi to split into as many tendrils as I possible. The tunnels below complained. I ignored them. Each tendril of essence latched onto the glass, and I sharpened my will, knowing it would need to make up for my diminished power. My intent became not a suggestion but a command. A god-king’s decree.

It still wasn’t enough.

A sudden urge struck me, but I pushed it away. Now wasn’t the time for experimentation. Putting so much effort into my will made my brain foggy. My thoughts oozed like molasses. It took longer than I’d like to admit for me to realize my mistake. What was I doing? Not the time for experimentation? Of course it was. I listened to the impulse.

I raised both hands before me, one palm up, one palm down, facing each other. My fingers formed a grasping cage that I then stretched apart. It was like trying to pull apart solid metal, but the molten compound obeyed. Hundreds of thousands of hair-thin glass filaments followed my movement, separating from one another, shining brilliantly as a strand of chi attached to each.

So little power. So much control. I was close to my limit.

I could have asked for Maria’s help. Unlike me, she could stop feeding the tunnels without consequences. She was primed and waiting, her essence sitting at the edge of our connection, ready for me to grab and bend to my will. So too did the mark on my soul beckon, urging me to use it. I thanked Maria’s offer, and shoved away the mark’s, not giving it an inch lest it take a mile and ‘help’ of its own accord.

I focused back on the task. One partition held the countless strands in place. I withdrew my will from the other, no longer needing the bowl I’d used to melt the materials. With a deep breath, I refilled this partition with intent, and almost bloody fainted. Maria grabbed my arms and helped steady me, letting go when she sensed I was okay.

Though I was now physically stable, doubt shook my confidence. Almost failing had made me realize just how much I needed to succeed. We had plenty of fishing rods, but none of them were mine. With my strength as it was now, some of the sport and challenge had been missing every time I went for a fish. It didn’t have to be a battle every time, but I wanted the possibility. No, I needed the possibility. I was ravenous for it.

Which only fueled my doubt. I second-guessed whether sap was the right ingredient. A spool of monofilament fishing line might have been better. It certainly seemed closer to epoxy or whatever plastic compound was used to bind fibreglass on Earth. The molasses seeping through my brain stopped me from reaching a decision.

Suddenly, a sweet voice came to caress me.

Your instincts have gotten you this far, Maria said in my mind. They’re the one thing that, time and time again, haven’t let you down.Other than me, of course, she added with a waggle of her brows.

She was right. And beautiful. And all mine. But now wasn’t the time for the last two.

I sent her my love and returned to the task at hand, applying will to the intent in my second partition. Maria grabbed the tree sap and lobbed it underhand. I caught and spread the malleable substance over the molten glass fibres. A surprising portion of my intent went toward stopping it from overheating and bursting alight.

It was in that position, hands stretched before me and all the pieces in place, that I reached my limit. Every ounce of chi I possessed was locked, frozen by the task of keeping everything stable. I could shape the rod. It was ready to come together. But all my available essence was in use, leaving none available for the last step of any creation; picturing what purpose it needed to fill.

The sap started hardening. If it solidified, I would fail.

Again Maria offered her power. Again my god-king mark implored. And again I turned them both away.

But Maria called out once more, a hint of realization coloring her thoughts. She wanted me to… use the mark?

I shook my head. She was only trying to help, but she was correct when she’d said to trust my instincts. My entire being screamed that I had to do this alone. I couldn’t articulate it, but so what? Listening to my hunches had gotten me this far. Why stop now?

I pushed at the limits of my core, but the partitions couldn’t handle it. Each of them amplified my will, letting me focus on two tasks at once. They could do more than that, but not with the trickle of essence I currently wielded. I needed more power.

The sap grew harder still.

I snarled at my lack of agency, my soul feeling the vast torrents of chi pouring down into the tunnels, my body unable to harness it. Over and over I tried, asking, begging the network to relent just a little, to give back a tiny bit of what I was feeding it. Silence was the only answer that came.

Maria nudged me. Her chi was still there, ready to be harnessed, but that wasn’t why she nudged my side. She wanted me to use the mark. It made sense to listen to her. She was my wife. She bore a mark on her soul mirroring my own, and I trusted her implicitly.

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So why, then, did my instincts continue screaming to do this alone?

My perception of time slipped away. I measured its passage through the hardening tree sap, whose consistency slowly shifted, getting less pliable. It was a race against the clock, and I was losing.

The sap started changing color, a crust forming on its surface. My brain felt similar. How much longer could I do this? At least it wouldn’t be long until I failed.

If I haven’t already…

I latched onto each thought that came, desperately trying to follow them. Maria no longer called out, not wanting to interrupt. The god-king mark, though, wouldn’t shut the frack up. It kept screaming for me to use it, getting more insistent—and distracting—as time dragged on.

As I considered ways to ignore it, the sap lost its lustre, turning matte and lifeless. Just like that, it had finished curing. I had failed.

Yet the mark was still screaming, not giving me a moment’s peace. My blood boiled with frustration, skin itching, lungs burning, throat constricting. I might have succeeded if it hadn’t pestered me the entire time.

I bit my cheek to center myself. There was no point blaming things outside of my control. This was my fault; I had agreed to the limitations. Would I go back in time and make a fishing rod before I started powering the tunnels? Absolutely not. As annoying as it was to feel out of control, for every second the expanded underground network remained empty, my friends were in potential danger.

Besides, I could try again. Even if it took weeks to comb through this experience and devise a new plan, l’d get there eventually. I let go of my will, but before it could leave the molten glass and now-black sap, the mark called out again, bellowing so loudly that it vibrated against my core.

Frustration threatened to boil over again. I rolled my eyes and brought its instructions to the edge of my awareness, hoping it would stop throwing a tantrum if I acknowledged it. I blinked, my brow furrowing as the mark seared a suggestion into my mind.

It hadn’t been offering power at all. It’d been trying to give me direction. In my desire to do this myself, I’d incorrectly assumed it was trying to take over.

It can’t be that simple, can it? I wondered, considering the suggestion. I guess it can’t hurt to try…

Instead of wielding my excess will like a mallet, I grabbed hold of a sliver, formed it into a thin-bladed chisel, and smacked it against the conceptual borders between my two partitions.

Pop!

The god-king mark rushed in to create a third partition, empty and unused, ready and waiting. All it had taken was a whisper of my intent…

You have got to be fracking kidding me.

It really was that simple. I felt like an absolute moron for not listening sooner. I pressed again into the space between borders, and there was a second pop, the mark rushing in to create a fourth container. My eyes flew wide.

How many can I make…?

Could I handle dozens? Hundreds? I reformed the imaginary chisel, pressed its edge between my three containers, and smacked—

I reeled, vision going white, head pounding. I groaned.

Four. I can handle four.

Gray matter still thumping, I gathered my will beside one of the empty vessels, and paused to gather my thoughts. I wouldn’t have a spare millisecond once I started. Despite the pain, my mouth curled up into a smile. I would need a hand, but this wasn’t over yet.

I slammed my will into the partition. In tandem, two souls answered my call, their full might bearing down on the blackened sap. Maria and Slimes made not a sound as their pink essence surrounded the ruined substance. They weren’t assisting in the creation, but reverting the sticky compound to what it once was. It would take every ounce of their concentration, and I didn’t doubt them for a second.

Resplendent heat poured from my newly harnessed partition. The mass of cracked sap surrounding my still-molten fibres of glass shimmered, moisture flowing in from the air, its malleability returning.

I apologized to my future self for what I was about to do, then split half of my will from that last vessel and into the only other empty one. Before I could register how much worse I’d just made my headache, I used that fourth container to picture what I desired, demanding the System make it so.

Maria cackled, partially at me for not listening to her and the mark earlier, but mostly with me, elated that my ambitious plan was going to work.

And work it did. Countless glass threads condensed, combining with the sap surrounding them. They formed a glowing pole that tapered at the end, a lustre beaming from them that shone not from me, but the System. The reel flickered, wavered, and flashed across the bench to join the condensing fibres. At least I think it did. I couldn’t really see, what with my vision pulsing each time my head thumped. I closed my eyes, letting my partitions handle the rest.

Euphoria flooded my body. It was complete.

I squinted out, my splitting headache temporarily banished by endorphins.

Fibreglass Rod of the Composite Fisher

[Authorization error: protected asset in lower realm]

I cleared the messages to find the world spinning. A strong pair of arms grabbed hold of me, and the surrounding room grew blessedly still.

“Fair maiden,” my savior purred. “Are you well?”

“No.” I clutched my head. The rhythmic pounding had already returned. “I feel like I just kicked myself in the skull.”

“You kinda did. That would have gone a lot smoother if you trusted me or the god-king mark earlier.”

I grunted. “To make matters worse, my oldest nemesis taunted me, giving me an error message instead of telling me what my sweet new rod does. And worst of all…” I paused to take a breath. “... My wife is currently carrying me like I’m her bride, in front of dozens of my followers.”

Maria nodded. “That is a rather troubling series of events, especially the last one. How emasculating.”

“Does that mean you’ll set me down?”

“And leave you on your own, bereft of senses and dressed so brazenly? I daresay that could lead to scandal.” She raised her chin and stared into the middle distance. “Nay, fair maiden! You are now under my protection. If your honor were to be impugned, so too would mine!”

I turned to my neck, braving the pain to look at Brad and Greg. “Help.”

They didn’t so much as blink. Judging by the looks on their faces, they hadn’t since the rod finished transforming. The entire room was the same, eyes cycling between vacant when inspecting the description, and wide like saucers when gazing upon the physical item.

“They’re not even listening, Maria. You may as well set me down.”

Her hero’s facade vanished, and her beautiful smile was almost enough to make me forget about the two-dozen monkeys that had snuck into my noggin and started smacking my cerebellum like bongos. “You can’t joke your way out of this one, my love. I know how hard you just pushed yourself.” She scooped up the rod and deposited it in my lap. “Sorry, everyone, but our god-king needs to recover. Good day.”

This finally snapped the woodworking brothers from their stupor. “Wait!” they both called, stepping forward and bumping into the many benches separating us.

I cast a petulant gaze over Maria’s shoulder, my arms looped around her neck as she carried me off. “Oh, now you wanna talk?” I held onto Maria with one hand, using the other to give them a decidedly rude gesture. “Frack y’all. I’m already feeling better, but I’ll be keeping this to myself until after I’ve caught a few fish with its magnificent—”

The room, and the faces of my friends, vanished. My core flared with heat, but I barely registered it. More words had appeared. It wasn’t the contents of the message itself that stunned me, but the golden, almost brocade border around them.

Then I actually read the sentences, and the border didn’t seem that important after all.

“What in Poseidon’s salty conch does that mean?”