Dear Reader,

Apologies, it has been some time since our last entry. Things have been hectic around the village; the harvest celebration was less festive than normal. It is understandable, the yield from the fields were smaller than even the paltry amount we normally see. The lack of strong field hands and increased taxes have sapped the life from those of us who remain here.

The sea’s bounty has been the only means by which we have managed to sustain the village. Times are harsh and I fear for the future, already I have heard grumblings amongst some of the others, mainly the middle-aged men. I and the other elders have somehow been able to calm them, to ensure peace within the village, but for how long. That is the question that gnaws at the edges of my mind, there is only so much a person can endure.

It is not all bad news however, some of the villagers were lucky enough to find a beached whale calf. The entire village was quick to arrive and strip the large animal down to the bones, it took a few days to get everything sorted. Meat was immediately sent for salting, or smoking, with other prime slices being cooked that first night for the village to celebrate. Another bonus and stroke of luck was the arrival of a traveling merchant from the east only a week or two later.

This merchant brought word about the war in the east, the empire had managed to push further inland, with the enemy on the backfoot. Maybe it would not be long before the young ones returned from the war, with their pockets weighed down with gold and silver. In addition to the information the man provided, he also paid a good price for the whale bones. He even threw in several items he called crab traps, some newly developed fishing technique from the islands in the north.

Personally, we did not see the need for such a strange box shaped iron contraption, but the merchant offered it free of charge. A gift for as he put it “such pristine whale bones”, apparently the nobles in the empire enjoyed sculptures carved from such material. The tastes of the southern nobles, or their desires to preen themselves before others means little to those of us living on the peripheries of the empire. However, if their excesses mean additional funds and food for our village, then I wish them the best.

The crab traps were not that difficult to understand, just as the merchant showed us, we placed the bait and planted them at early in the morning and returned the next day to retrieve them. It was extraordinary how many we managed to haul in that day, almost triple our normal catch. Although they were crabs, food is food, there were even some nice sized fishes caught within.

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The floating piece of wood attached to the front would stick up vertically when the front of the trap closed, meaning that the trap was full, and the latch closed. Truly, the creators of this device must be the most famous of scholars. With this we have easily managed to stockpile additional food, and we now have a stockpile of crab shells that can be sold in bulk to merchants in the city. We should have little issue paying the new taxes, everyone was so excited and grateful, we even held another celebration to venerate the elemental spirits of the sea.

Speaking of sea, Lukka has grown quite a bit in the last few months, almost enough that she could wrap herself around my forearm. She has had little need for hunting these last few weeks, as there is plenty of whale and crab meat for her. I admit that I may be partially to blame for that. However, she does not just get the food, there is some effort on her part.

For that I purchased a group of clay pots, with a cork to seal the items within. So, every afternoon when I meet up with Lukka I place these clay pots together into the shallows and wait. Only one of the pots has any food, and I have noticed Lukka skimming and feeling each of the pots. It took little time for her to understand what they were for, and somehow, she just knew where the food was.

At first, she would come over and give my feet a slight tap, I am sure she was asking for my assistance in opening the container. Of course, I refused or at least ignored her little fit. Once she realized I would not help, Lukka went at the pot like a storm. Spreading her body over the entire container, before realizing she would not be able to consume the entire thing. After a few moments, she positioned herself on top of another pot, then whipped one of her arms onto the other and pulled.

Eventually the cork popped open, and she raced in to fill the hole, resting herself on top of the pot and reaching in one arm at a time. Sensing the meal other fish would swim by, attempting to get at the scraps, only to find themselves on the receiving end of one of Lukka’s fists. This always continued for some time, as she would fill herself completely, consuming every scrap of food.

It was a surprise when she stung my foot and dashed off with one of my pots, dragging along an item that was around half her total size. I was not expecting that, but it was a sight to see, it was hard not to chuckle just a bit.

I must profess, it has been difficult to write these last few months. My dreams have been haunting, many of which I forget immediately upon waking. Only the cold sweat and fear remaining each morning. I am not sure I even wish to discuss it here, if I even know what it is that I am writing.

The only aspect I can recall as I write this are the bodies, so many bodies. In my dream the sea is choked with them, bloated and decaying. I recall the screams of men, women, children, I do not know what these are, I have never participated in such a war. I have been a humble fisherman for as long as I can remember, yet now these visions haunt my dreams.

One image stood out from the rest, even now I can vividly remember that image. It was of a mountain, standing tall and steadfast in the center of a whirling sea. But the wall upon which it was drawn was shattered, the mountain was on fire and the seas red with blood…