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--DRAMATIS PERSONAE—
Red Tide, an [undecided] of [unknown] renown, The Reef, paroled for bad behavior
The Symbologist, attendant of the gods, keeper of the symbols, a worm
Turtle Jaw, Quill of The Reef, putting together a squad
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4 New Summer, 61 AW
Armistice Island, Central Sea
296 days until the next Granting.
Without understanding how she came to be there, Red Tide found herself submerged in sea water. The depths were dark and peaceful, the temperature as warm as the southern currents. Red Tide's entire being uncoiled, the kinks of a year's imprisonment smoothed out in the weightless plunge. She sensed something vast moving beneath her, a shadowy behemoth with a sea song that made her bones vibrate and her gills stretch taut.
Ge'oca. Gods of the sea. They honored her.
And then, the waters receded and so did Red Tide's fierce grin. Grimacing as she was forced to walk instead of swim, she waded onto a white sand beach. Looking down at her ankles, she noticed that her manacles were gone. She couldn’t remember Turtle Jaw taking them off. She only recalled the touch of his quill and some slithering voice inside her head.
“Did he drug me?” Red Tide asked aloud. She smirked. “A rascal, after all.”
“Your Quill’s intentions are pure,” a raspy voice answered. “Although I sense that disappoints you.”
Up ahead, a tattered creature waited for her, seated behind an ornate desk that had been plunked down right at the edge of the surf.
“Greetings, Red Tide of the Reef,” the thing said in a voice that sounded like shuffling papers. “I am the symbologist.”
Red Tide eyed the little beast. The thing reminded her of a sea slug that had somehow burrowed its way into a pile of natty brown fabric. There were stubby legs that dangled off its chair and stubby arms that terminated in ten-fingered hands and then maybe more limbs writhing like a millipede beneath its shabby cloak. The symbologist kept its hood up, but Red Tide got the sense that its face was flat and featureless. Of course, Red Tide immediately assessed the creature for weak points and soft spots. They weren’t hard to find. The symbologist looked to be all underbelly. Easy enough to squash, although Red Tide didn’t think there would be a need for that.
“The fuck are you supposed to be?” Red Tide asked.
“As I said, I am the symbologist,” the creature answered through a pulsing patch of peach-colored flesh where a mouth might conceivably fit.
Red Tide made a face. “That don't answer my question.”
“Ah. I am a creation of the gods. I exist solely to provide guidance on the use of your Ink.”
“Cruel,” Red Tide said. “Cruel of them to make you look like that.”
“I believe the goal was to achieve a nonthreatening appearance that would also be sufficiently alienating to prevent any attempts at fraternization,” the symbologist replied. “Now, shall we begin?”
“Begin what?”
“Your marking.”
Red Tide squinted. Instead of answering, she did a slow turn to take in her surroundings. The scenery beyond the symbologist and its desk seemed oddly blurry. The beach trailed off into a horizon that might have been trees or mighty have been hills, like one of those abstract paintings.
“What island is this?” Red Tide asked. “How far are we from the Grotto?”
“Your body hasn't left the Grotto. I am communicating with you telepathically.”
“Nah.” Red Tide shook her head. “I swam here.”
“That was an intervention from your gods.” Red Tide heard something strange enter the creature's dry tone - fear, perhaps, or awe. “They favor you and wished to reward you. Apparently, you have sent them many bodies.”
Red Tide puffed out her chest and turned to speak to the ocean. “More to come on that. I promise.”
“As for the island, we are on an approximation of Armistice,” the symbologist continued. “Although the island is never the same from one Granting to the next. You shall glean no advantage from your present surroundings.”
“So this is where it happens?” Red Tide crouched to drag her fingers through the sand. She expected to maybe unearth some bones, but there weren’t even shells or stones. Too pure to be the real thing. “Pretty enough place to die, I guess.”
“Indeed. Shall we begin?” The symbologist asked again. “If you do not wish to choose your Ink, I am capable of doing it for you.”
“You got somewhere else to be, slug? My small talk not holding your attention?” Red Tide plunked backward into the sand and crisscrossed her legs, like she remembered from her two years of schooling. “Fine. How does this work?”
When Red Tide looked up, she found a wall had appeared behind the symbologist. Overlapping stone plates the size of shields rose up from the sand. Each stone was perfectly round and smooth, clean, the color of pearl. As the symbologist began to speak, dark Ink spread across the stones. Unfamiliar runes formed, slashes and twists and whorls, yet somehow Red Tide could understand them.
“First, you must choose your class,” the symbologist explained. “This will form the centerpiece of your Ink and will provide abilities that complement your existing skills. I have chosen three options that suit you.”
Red Tide cocked her head. “What do you know about my skills, slug?”
“If you are displeased with my choices, we can discuss further options,” the symbologist replied.
“Well, let me read them, at least, before you go crying through your skin.”
Three runes had become more prominent on the plates behind the symbologist. They meant nothing to Red Tide – slashes and squiggles that made even less sense than what the land-walkers used for language – and yet she could interpret their meaning exactly. There was much contained in their swipes and spirals.
[Skulker] – You are adept at hiding and striking from advantageous positions. You excel at close-fighting with bladed weapons. Your agility and speed are above average.
[Hunter] – You are capable of tracking your prey through supernatural means. You are highly observant and aware of your surroundings. You are a versatile fighter capable of adapting to an array of weapons.
[Enchantress] – You are an adept manipulator of human emotions. You are highly observant and capable of picking up signals that others might not. You inflict harm in unique and subtle ways.
Red Tide clinked her fingernails against her teeth. “All three,” she said. “I will take all three, slug.”
“You may only choose one,” the symbologist replied. “Although, if there are elements of an unchosen class that interest you, they can likely be achieved through further Ink.”
“Rules, rules, rules,” Red Tide said, waving her hand. “Your game is too complicated.”
When the symbologist made no reply, she examined the runes once again. Although she still hadn’t quite come to terms with her new role as a champion, Red Tide at least understood that when she next visited the material world version of this island she would be hunted for sport by land-walkers who saw her as barely more than an animal. The objective of the Reef’s party wasn’t to secure a wish; the Queen of the Coralline Throne was too cowardly for that. They were criminals sent off to die. Red Tide’s goal would simply be to survive.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Since that was the case, Red Tide didn’t picture herself doing much hunting of her own. [Hunter] was out.
[Skulker] seemed like the practical choice, but the meaning within the symbol irritated Red Tide. Hiding and sneaking and dodging about, like a minnow flitting through the teeth of a shark. [Enchantress], meanwhile, felt like the right choice but not necessarily the smart one. What was she going to do? Talk some merchant duelist out of flaying her?
Red Tide sighed. “What do most people pick, slug?”
“No two champions are the same,” the symbologist replied.
“What were the last four champions that represented the Reef? Can you tell me that?”
“A healer, a spear master, and two skulkers.”
Red Tide snorted. “Guess they didn’t skulk hard enough.” She paused. “Does the island see a lot of enchantresses, slug?”
“There is only one other, at present,” the symbologist replied.
“Huh.” Now, there was an advantage. Give the merchants something that they hadn’t dealt with before. “Fine. I’ll take that one.”
“Enchantress,” the symbologist confirmed. “We move on.”
The other runes faded away while the one for Enchantress shifted to a more central position on the wall. As Red Tide watched, dozens of new runes spread out in rings from the Enchantress symbol. The symbols in the three rings closest to the central Enchantress marking were all in vivid black Ink, while the symbols on the further rings were faded. [Sleep], [Hypnotic Object], [Poisonous], [Cutting Words], [Command], [Fear], [Charm Beast], -- Red Tide scanned the tiles hungrily, reading power in every slash and swirl.
“Based on your existing prowess, the gods have deemed you to be of the third renown,” the symbologist said. “Thus, you may choose three additional pieces of Ink.”
Red Tide noticed two smaller constellations of symbols that had appeared at angles to the array of Enchantress choices. The central symbol of the first read [Mortal] while the other was the same dolphin symbol that every [Oca’em] wore on their throat. She jerked her chin in that direction.
“What are those ones?”
“The first are abilities available to every champion,” the symbologist explained. “The others are abilities unique to the oca’em.”
The options surrounding the [Mortal] symbol seemed simple enough. Choices like [Strength+], [Speed+], and [Endurance+] that would augment her body’s natural abilities, and then more esoteric concepts like [Focus+], [Will+], and [Insight+] that Red Tide couldn’t imagine finding use for in a fight to the death. There seemed to be no end of possible ways to improve the mortal body. If Red Tide had wanted to be taller, she was sure the symbologist had a tile for that.
The [Oca’em] options interested her more. These were the ways of her people; the magic of the sea sages, many of whom had been killed over the years and their knowledge lost as the Reef shriveled to its current size. [Water Knife], [Control Liquid], [Coral Tender] – her eyes flicked across each of these, but settled eventually on one faded symbol in particular.
[Summon Leviathan] – You summon a leviathan to your aid.
“The leviathans are all dead,” Red Tide said.
“Through the Ink, many things are possible,” the symbologist answered.
Red Tide’s eyes widened as she imagined riding one of the great hulks of the sea, clinging to the spikes across her pet leviathan’s back as it gobbled her enemies down whole. She shivered with delight.
“I choose that one,” she said.
“Unfortunately, no,” the symbologist replied. “That ability is above your present renown, as are all the faded symbols you see.”
“Why even put them up there?” Red Tide snapped.
“To allow you to plan your future Ink.”
Future Ink. Red Tide snorted. Maybe land-walker champions had that luxury, but Red Tide’s participation was essentially a death sentence.
“What renown do I have to get to?”
“Fifteen.”
Red Tide slapped the sand. “How am I supposed to do that, slug?”
“You may earn renown by performing well in the Granting. The gods also provide opportunities in the time between. Your Quill will know more.” The symbologist flicked its little hand toward the wall. “If beastly allies interest you, perhaps you might begin with [Summon Sharks] or [Summon Seahorse]? These skills are available to you.”
“You dangle leviathans in front of me and then try to give me a seahorse?” Red Tide’s gaze shifted away from the wall of symbols, to the fuzzy details of the island beyond. “What good is all this ocean shit, anyway? The gods make us fight the land-walkers in the dirt.”
“The gods show no favoritism,” the symbologist replied. “There is always water available in each version of the island.”
Red Tide rolled her eyes, imagining the tiny pool of water she’d had for comfort in her Grotto cell. “I bet.”
She took another look at the [Oca’em] options, specifically [Coral Tender] which read, you may create and manipulate segments of coral. Before Red Tide was born, the Reef used to have dozens of Coral Tenders who saw to its growth and expansion. Now, with the merchant families demanding the Reef stay within certain boundaries and enforcing those restrictions through wishes, most of the coral tenders had disappeared or died off.
“And what would I do with that?” Red Tide asked aloud. “You says there’s water on this island, but is there coral? Useless.”
“Perhaps, a demonstration…” the symbologist said.
Red Tide made a noise of disgust as the symbologist shuffled out from behind its desk with the sound of dry elbows rubbing together. The creature dug around in the billowing sleeves of its robe, then sprinkled glittering shards of purple coral into the sand at its feet.
“What else are you hiding in there?” Red Tide asked with a raised eyebrow.
“A bit of everything,” the symbologist replied. “Now, observe.”
Each chunk of coral was small enough to fit in Red Tide’s palm but, as she watched, with a noise like cracking ice the coral blossomed. The coral coiled together into a solid shin-high wall. A moment later, a spike shot forth from the coral, stopping just short of where Red Tide’s eye would’ve been had she not rolled backward in the sand.
Laughing, Red Tide brushed her fingers against the sharpened point of coral. “I could do that?”
As Red Tide toyed with the coral, the symbologist scuttled back to its desk. “With practice. Just as others bring their weapons, you would bring coral with you to the island.”
Red Tide grinned. Of course the symbologist would nudge her in this direction. Even this beastly little bookkeeper knew of her reputation as a hunter of sailors. She was already imagining the grisly possibilities of growing coral of her own design.
“I’ll take it,” Red Tide said.
“Done. Two abilities remain unchosen.”
Her attention drifted back to the rings of [Enchantress] abilities. Now, she truly understood what the gods had to offer. They would make her a more efficient killer. She would focus on what she was already best at.
[Hypnotic Object] – You possess an object capable of bending minds to your will. The strong-willed may resist and any hypnosis will be broken should contact with the object cease.
“Do I choose the object?” Red Tide asked.
“Indeed. So long as you or your Quill are capable of acquiring it.”
“A harp,” Red Tide said. “I want it to be a harp.”
“Done,” the symbologist replied. “And your final piece?”
Red Tide stepped over the low coral wall and approached the symbologist’s desk with her hands on her hips. She took her time studying the various Ink runes and the symbologist did not press her.
“That one,” she said finally, pointing. “For when things get close.”
“Done,” the symbologist said. “Best of luck to you in the Granting, Red Tide of the Reef.”
“Thank you, slu—”
Red Tide blinked her eyes and the world was suddenly much darker and the air far damper. She was returned to her cell in the Grotto with Turtle Jaw standing over her, the tip of his quill pressed just below her collar. All the aches of a year in captivity returned to her and she winced at the cold manacles chafing her ankles. Only a few seconds had passed since she’d agreed to visit the symbologist.
“Done already?” Turtle Jaw asked.
His hand jerked into motion, not entirely under his control. The quill dragged across Red Tide’s skin, sketching out the choices she had made with the symbologist. While Turtle Jaw made the outline himself, the Ink moved across Red Tide’s skin of its own volition, filling in shapes and adding delicate inflections to the runes. A complicated nest of swirls and angles soon took shape across Red Tide’s sternum. She could feel the meaning inside herself, knew instinctively what power the Ink granted her. Turtle Jaw could read the symbols, too, and he flinched back ever so slightly as the final marking took shape.
[Poisonous] – You may secrete a deadly poison from your skin at will.
She tilted her chin down to get a look at the final result.
Red Tide
The Reef
3rd Renown
Awareness+
Enchantress
Coral Tender
Charm+
Poisonous
Hypnotic Object
Smiling, Red Tide dragged her nails across Turtle Jaw’s cheek. “Don’t worry, that poison’s not for you,” she said. “So long as you get me one beautiful fucking harp.”
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