Sailing Ether Tides
Ch: 4 Twinkle Twinkle
Morning came creeping in late in the little sheltered cove, low scattered clouds promised unstable weather… And a beautiful sunrise over the shallow sea. Of the mysterious jewel crab there was no sign, while remnants of the big bastard abounded everywhere.
The boat crew dragged the biggest pincer; the one Dante had so neatly shot off of the monster, over to the house. That took a bit of clever rigging and a truly prodigious effort, but a crab claw bigger than a merchant wagon was too good to pass up.
The rest of the creature had ended up just outside the magical boundary ward of their mystically conjured ‘camp’ by the water… and was crawling with local scavengers. Crabs, lobsters, gulls and other less readily identifiable sea and sky creatures were everywhere on the massive hillock of a corpse.
The Ward family magical arts kept the vermin, crawlers and nibblers away and muted the raucous cries of the squabbling scroungers as well. Their dear departed guest, the big, carapaced and hungry boi had been far more than a simple illusion ward could manage to repel.
The little troop of sailors watched the sunrise together on the porch of Wilford’s sturdy stone home. Safely on the other side of the house from whatever Falco and his ‘guests’ were still up to in the baths.
There was a lot of squealing and chittering going on that the sailors couldn't understand and the three kids refused to translate. They did blush and fidget awkwardly whenever they were asked what one bit or another of dolphin speech meant.
The sailors only played their game with the kiddos when Esperanza wasn’t within earshot, she would gleefully translate even the most… startlingly salty passages of seagoing mammal pillow talk, if asked.
Amy and the boys came back from their morning workout and sparring session on the beach, reconciled to showering in the house, since the hotspring baths were still ‘occupied’. They strolled in Wilf’s front door, sweaty and tired, right into a situation.
“...octopus man and a whole pod of sexually adventurous wright whales…” Esperanza was patiently explaining… something to Nicolai and the boys. They all had expressions on their faces that spoke of dread and shock, bordering on trauma.
Amy reversed right out of the house and took a walk up the beach with Rio and Wilf, while her auntie explained the birds, bees, starfish and cephalopods, in excruciating and carnal detail to her crew. “I guess she got tired of their game…” Amy sighed happily. “That was embarrassing! Whenever they’d mention it, I couldn’t help but listen for a while.”
“Yeah, our uncles suck.” Wilf agreed good naturedly as they stripped and leapt into the steam feeding into their little cove, for a wash in the deep pool of cold water.
Amy and Wilf both had actual, active storage gifts; non dimensional pockets they could stuff objects into, to retrieve them later. Wilf’s even held stuff in near perfect stasis; so, even weeks after they’d last been back to Wheatford, the stack of towels he set on a fallen log in the sunshine were warm, dry and smelt of the laundry from their childhood home.
Amy had a few bars of fine milled soap from the alchemist in Port Ellis tucked away and each of them had a change of clothes… that helped salvage the morning.
They splashed and goofed for a while, giving their aunts familiar, Falco the aquatic libertine and his bevy of blue and gray damsels plenty of time to vacate the hotspring bath.
Like the three cottages, the garden and pier; their hotspring baths followed the trio on their journeys. The whole arrangement would simply vanish when they departed and reappear in a new place, when summoned through secret family arts and rituals…
They weren’t exactly secret, the spells and ritual required very specific knowledge, skills, gifts and Contracts with spiritual beings from beyond… As well as a huge quantity of raw magical energy that most humans could never channel and survive.
Amy dove deep, all the way to the bottom, enjoying the dappled sunlight on the sparkling sand… very sparkly sand. She slowly and calmly swam to the surface and called to her brothers. “Guys… the jewelcrab is right below us, buried in the sand, pretending I didn’t see it.”
“Riiight…” Rio muttered unhappily as he swam for shore. Rather than making a speedy exit from the lair of the unknown crab creature, Wilf was bobbing in the middle of the pool, contemplating a large knot of driftwood.
“Wilf… Crab creature… let’s get geared up…” He urged gently. “We have driftwood at home.”
“S’not driftwood. It’s a wooden idol…?” He mumbled as he swam for shore, towing a good sized chunk of wet timber that really did look like a person seated in the lotus position.
A hunk of driftwood that looked an awfully lot like a wooden person, in a meditative trance, smiling beatifically… with garlands of orchids and tropical moss crowning him in radiant natural glory… With bright gray green eyes that almost seemed to blink in the sunshine.
‘We’d hoped to get one of you alone for a chat… three will do nicely, young druidlings.’ He said cheerily, in their minds.
‘My crustacean friend is shy around humanoids… she terrifies most mortals on sight. I am Ignis, the spirit of this shabby little former paradise. Down in the depths, hidden rather poorly in the sand, is my darling… we’ll call her Gemma, since her actual name is a high frequency sound that would leave you all temporarily deaf.’
“We’re just here taking a bath, we’ll get out of your way.” Rio answered carefully. “Visitors, fae and outsiders should speak to the captain, not her crew, sir.”
“No, it’s you I wish to speak to… though there is another of you, still in your dwelling.” He murmured in an audible voice of rustling leaves, wind and waves. “In ancient times, long ago… there was a race of men…” He whispered.
“Before our long imprisonment and isolation within this aura of hateful misery and despair. I hear a long forgotten word on the wind, when a drifting breeze or the tides carry a fragment of the outside to our shores…” He sighed to the children gathered on his sandy shore. “Isekai…? Do you know this word?”
“Our parents say we shouldn’t talk to strange outsiders and fae…” Wilf grumbled at the being he’d towed to shore. Everytime they looked away, the wooden man was in a subtly different pose, or had changed the expression on his face in some amusing way.
“Since this is my island, in ways both material and spiritual, you would be my guests…” Ignis whispered cheerily. “I gave you my name and my lady fair’s as well… That suggests that you are the strangers, not us. To be clear, I am what you mortals call a fae, the essence and spirit of this place. Gemma is the outsider, we’ve been… you mortals used to call it ‘married’, for a few centuries.”
“A fae and an outsider?” Amy asked, now that she was dressed and fully entranced by the jolly little man and his tale. “There’s got to be a story there!” She pulled a camp chair out of her storage gift and settled in on the beach with her towel around her hair to listen.
“Amy…” Wilf grumbled. “We should really defer to the captain…”
“Is your captain the other one? The other Isekai, I feel?” He asked with a little more intensity. His wooden figure had leaned forward eagerly, when they glanced back. “I would speak with them as well, in that case.”
“We’ll let her know you wish to meet.” Rio answered diplomatically, while gripping Amy by her ear, Wilf collected the other lobe in a two knuckle grip and they hauled her back down the beach to the house.
“Thank mistress Gemma for her assistance last night!” She shouted, as they gently dragged her away. “I’m Amy, that’s Wilf and Rio kidnapping me right now… see you soon!” She sang to the wooden man sitting on the sand and watching the show with a bemused smile.
‘I’d heard they were an odd race…’ He muttered silently to his mate in the depths.
#
“He said ‘Isekai’? You’re sure?” Uncle Ward’s ghost murmured from a comfy chair by the fire.
“Yeah… it’s what they call the protagonists in all those weird stories Papa has stored in his brain.” Amy replied helpfully. “I never heard it or saw it anywhere else.”
“Remember, that’s my brain too honey. It’s what they called people like us, in stories where we came from. Folks transported to another world and transformed in the process.” He murmured tiredly. “They probably want some feat of daring do or a fetchquest performed…”
“I’m in!” Amy chirped happily. “I really like their vibe!”
“No! No vibes, no crazy misadventures!” Wilf complained. “I wanna get my Adventurer’s badge, getting in more trouble is not in my plan.”
“Seconded.” Rio mumbled. “I’m ready for them to stop treating us like kids, that means we gotta stop getting in trouble…”
“Hey! Traitors!” She scowled at her brothers, but there was nothing behind it but frustration.
Ward butted in before his brother’s kids could get distracted. “I can’t really take physical form here until that ritual gets broken, but I need to talk to this guy. Ask if he can come by after the moon comes up; I think I can manifest… something then.”
“What if we break the ritual? We were there for the last one…” Amy offered.
“No.” Every adult in the room, Wilf and Rio all said at once.
“Dante, stay with the kids. Nicolai, come with this one, we go to meet our presumed hosts.” She grumbled unhappily. “Trade is this poor captain’s calling, not monsters and otherworldly beings.”
#
“I was just waiting around, like we do… contemplating erosion and waiting to see what comes next. It’s a volcano thing… we don’t say ‘extinct’ we say, patiently waiting for more magma.” The smiling and cheerful wooden man was still seated on the sandy shore beside that deep freshwater pool, relaxing in the early evening moonlight as he spun his tale.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Then I felt an itch in one of my empty magma chambers… Suddenly, boom!” He clapped his hands together with a woody clatter for emphasis. “I’m forcibly manifested inside my own island, in some filthy cultists’ obscene demon ritual! They’re trying to pull some tentacled ballbag in from the outside to do… Gods and spirits, who knows what!” He paused to clear his throat of a tiny hermit crab, patting the little fellow and sending him on his way.
“Well, I’m not about to be used as the power source for an unclean, dimension hopping eldritch sack of guts’ foray into this world…” He smirked wickedly and gave a little sniff of distaste. “I may have dropped a few tons of the roof on the human cultists’ undead, worm riddled master, sealing the humans inside forever.”
He gave a mischievous smile. “The sentient demonic bowel worms animating their master escaped through fissures in my stone… into my coconut crab infested island… surrounded by the salty sea.” He said with deep satisfaction. “Watching them perish slowly, over a few weeks, was a fine treat that I enjoyed deeply. Their ritual circle however…”
“It kept going, drawing something in?” Dante asked softly, far out of his depth as a simple water worker. His Contract with the spirit of Water gave him some insight into magical structures and rituals, but not much.
“Yes, but not what they expected at all. Their shoddy, ill cast and interrupted ritual called forth Gemma, instead. Their malformed spell dragged her from her home in the jeweled seas of the deep ether, far beyond mortal ken. She would be what many call a ‘demon’.” He said very carefully.
“She is not some ravening horror, simply a person snatched from her home… like you, isekai.” He nodded to captain Ranza and the three kids, seated nearby on a fallen palm.
Ward smiled at the deep, moonlit pool and nodded. “This is not unfamiliar territory, strange as that might seem. I myself am a person drawn here from another world… an isekai, as you say.”
“You smell more of the pantheon, the gods of mortals… and dryads… you really smell like dryads, a whole forest of them… what are you?” The glib entity asked, sitting forward on the sand eagerly.
“Let’s not get off on a tangent, friend… I’m the local god of Death and Vengeance… and the dryad of the golden fig. Leave it at that for now, let’s talk about your problem…” Ward answered evasively and looked to his friends, casting about for help.
“We’ve seen these ritual circles before…” Amy said, stepping in confidently.
“Amy Ward, you were a babe of four when your parents and their friends dealt with that!” Esperanza butted in. “This one promised you would not confront occult forces without proper supervision! Poor auntie Ranza is no wizard nor witch!”
Wilford’s attempt to make a case for confounding evil died stillborn on his lips, when she cut him off at the knees with a wagged finger. “This one has seen you tumbling, arse naked and giggling on the lawn a few times since that day, Wilford Ward! Do not ‘but auntie, it’s evil…’ your captain, young sailor!”
All three kids turned on their uncle Ward, who hid behind captain Ranza and smiled benignly. “I’m not even really here physically…”
Ignis tittered and sighed happily; fully able to manifest under the second moon’s warm, mysterious light.
“I see you too require this delicious illumination to fully embody yourself, cousin Ward.”
The tall lean and muscular man smiled, increasing the general level of illumination in the little fresh water pool by the sandy shore. “You’ve been isolated for a while, lord Ignis, things have been happening in the outside world… We’ve got friends who specialize in these kinds of occult problems.”
“On that note, I should introduce my wife, Gemma. Come on out sweetie!” He called to the waterside.
“Really?” Gemma cooed happily as moonrise allowed her to attempt a human form of her own. A beautiful, gleaming, jewel sprinkled, brown skinned girl of around four years old came splashing out of the pool, completely naked and smiling proudly.
“You said being a humanoid was hard!” She scoffed adorably, droplets of water glimmering on her bare skin among the multitude of tiny crystalline stars scattered over her body. “Hardly a problem… More… Like…” She paused, looked up at Ward and Esperanza towering so high above her and frowned.
“Do Over! I call do over, Iggy, stop giggling!” She stamped her foot angrily at the smiling wooden man, sending a shower of glittering sparks into the air around her. She raised a ferocious finger at the group of amused people and slowly backed into the pool for her ‘do over’.
“I’m going to give you such a pinch!” She scolded her grinning husband as she slipped beneath the placid water again.
A moment later the same child emerged, in the form of a beautiful mature, dark haired, dark eyed woman, draped in a gown of shimmering crystal beads.
“Childish…” She muttered fondly at the giggling wooden man seated on a fallen palm beside her. “As Iggy said, I was dragged here and forcibly manifested into a physical form by some idiots who are long since dust… Yet I remain here. Now I’ve decided that this is home, since my Iggy cannot leave and join me in the deeps.”
“We came to ask if you would please just leave, we’re happy as things are…” The wooden man said softly. “Especially now that Stormcrab is gone, he’s been a nuisance for a while.”
“We would… but there are probably at least six human souls, trapped in endless torment under your island. That’s where the aura of forbiddance comes from.” Ward murmured softly. “We don’t have a problem with…” He waved his hands to indicate the general situation.
“Those people have been stuck down there as the power source for this thing long enough. We’ll have an expert assess the problem and find a solution.”
“An expert? Some sorcerer or mad wizard? That’s what started this whole mess…” Iggy grumbled, smoldering slightly as he became upset.
“Now Iggy… calm down. If those poor things can be released, I can’t refuse. They are an abomination, no matter how convenient.” Gemma murmured. “They are also conveniently indestructible, so far as I can tell. I’ll find a way to stay with you, no matter what else happens… I’m sure their expert is very good.”
“We’re sending for Becky, high priestess of Marduk, god of man’s knowledge. You couldn’t ask for better,” Ward replied confidently.
#
“I really miss having a dreamworld we could all visit together…” Ward sighed for the thousandth time; his oft repeated complaint stemming from the death of his mad, mortal brother several years prior.
That poor Fool’s soul had been wedged into a gap in reality, lingering there between existing and non existence for centuries uncounted as the world spun below him… Until finally he was spat out, onto an unremarkable woodland meadow, naked and confused.
The resulting trauma had formed a strange, halfreal world of shared dreams that other mortals could enter. There, they could interact freely with the spiritual entities haunting the poor doomed creature.
Now the Fool’s moon, or the Madman’s moon; depending on where on the globe it was shining at the moment… was the domain of Ward, immortal demigod of Death, Vengeance and the dryad of the golden fig. Sadly, normal mortals could no longer dream themselves there, as the death of its creator severed its ties to the mortal realm.
The moon remained, nearly real, sailing above the world, as a playground for the immortals and a memorial to the Fool. The moon was a vast forest of his dryads, from all around… they joined the forest from all over the multiverse, bringing new and exciting definitions of ‘everywhere’. Ward stopped contemplating the verdant hills of his moon and focused up.
“I passed the message to Willow. She says Becky is sailing this way, she’ll supervise the ritual with her team. We’ll meet them in Centrepoint Harbor in three days.”
“And Gemma? She’s really sweet… and she helped crack that huge claw open. It was delicious, wasn’t it?” Amy wheedled at her uncle.
“I’m not your dad, I can’t be distracted or bribed with monster meat…” Ward complained. “No matter how sweet, succulent and briny it may be. Do I still have butter on my chin?”
#
Centrepoint was a full day’s sail north, Esperanza’s Bounty was the fastest light cargo vessel on the shallow sea, but she was still a cargo ship.
With the Shallow Sea still troubled by the storm and squalls threatening just across the coastal range in the open sea, Ranza wanted to make the run before the weather could close in again. Sailing out before dawn, with cheerful waves for the two mismatched beings on the shore, standing in the fading moonlight.
The long, three masted sloop cut through the waves, running into the wind, with all her sails down. Esperanza stood at the helm, while the three youngest members of her crew meditated, with bronze ear cuffs on their lobes, powering the musical, magical, mad engine in her depths with their personal Mana.
“Feel free to get in more trouble, kids… I’ll take you on a punishment cruise whenever you wish!” Auntie Ranza cackled, as her mighty ship surged forward into the surf and wind. These last six months have been lovely… I can’t manage more than an hour or two at this speed!” She shouted into the wind at the exhausted kids on the mid deck.
“Neither can we…!” Amy shouted back.
“What’s that? ‘Faster please’...? Certainly! Anything for my beloved children!” She called with a grin, as the ship moaned softly and began draining their Mana even more aggressively. By the time Centre Port’s harbor entrance came into sight, they were ready to eat and turn in early, aboard ship.
The ship moored to a buoy as the sun fell and Dante took Bounty’s skiff in, to negotiate with the harbormaster.
“No fair…” Amy yawned in protest. “You wore us out so we’d be too tired to go into town!”
“We will see the sights of the city tomorrow, my darlings. It is a safe enough place… But any port town is best seen by daylight and in the company of trusted kin.”
Their complaints and griping were mere formalities, they were wiped out and going nowhere in any case. They had the forward ‘cabin’ to themselves; a triangular room at the bow, designed to serve as a cargo hold and occasional crew quarters. It came equipped with two narrow but comfy foldaway bunks beside the hatchway and set of cushions stowed in a locker, that assembled quickly to form a large V shaped berth for Wilf’s massive frame.
They piled into their bunks, drew the curtains and let the ship rock them toward sleep...
Wilf woke when Rio climbed into his bunk and settled in with a sigh. A moment later Amy slid in on the other side, bracketing their big younger brother between them.
“G’nite.” They whispered in three part harmony, as they had almost as long as they could remember.
Centre Port was big, bustling and loud. Gulls screamed, children laughed and ran on the shore, while smithies and shipwrights banged and clattered away. Chaos ruled in the crowded port town’s dockside slums, along with hawkers and merchants, food vendors and any number of voices raised in commerce.
Three young people ferried the captain and first officer over to the commercial pier from their deepwater mooring, before sailing to the docklands boat landing, where small craft not unlike theirs skittered across the water. Most were poled, rowed or towed by aquatic familiars, though a few moved without obvious propulsion, like Missadventure. Her varnished red oak and elegant, understated, treble clef figurehead stood out among the brightly painted canoes, skiffs and kayaks, as did her elegant stripbuilt construction and sleek lines.
Wilf and Rio slipped onto the dock and tied her up, while Amy fielded questions from curious locals. Her unusual construction led to questions about propulsion, so the boys had to start busking, once they were off the municipal pier.
Down on the corner, out in the street,
Willy ‘an the Poor Boys are playin!
Bring a nickel, tap yer feet!
Wilf’s guitar and Rio’s bongos drew every eye and ear for a few blocks, when they set it off. Their musical distraction got the boat aficionados to look away long enough for Amy to stash the boat in her unique storage gift.
Honeycomb Hideout: Animus, Will, Mind and Resilience.
A non dimensional rift in space has been tethered to your soul/shade/ghost. Inanimate material may be stored safely in this space, subject to mass, size and occult limitations. Retrieval and storage of physical matter is only possible under direct moonlight or when unobserved by sentients. Complete Contract suite to ameliorate these restrictions.
Fitting the boat in her gift was challenging, even with all the work they’d put in to make it easier to stash. Of course, Wilf did most of the actual work… which was what brought them into town, he needed lumber and supplies.
Amy pocketed the small boat and put her hood up, as she slipped into the distracted bustle. She rejoined her brothers as the song ended, they dismissed the crowd by passing the hat; that worked like magic in the rough and tumble dock ward. Once the request for donations to the players went out, even the curious boat enthusiasts departed rapidly.
“I’ll see what we can find in town… don’t get your hopes up.” Wilf sighed to his disconsolate brother. “We can work on making a new drum set when we get home.”
“Stupid crab… it’s like he went in to trash my kit! And the banjo… that was yours!” Rio grumbled.
“He ate every scrap of magical hide and skin, cause he was just a mindless appetite in a shell…” Wilf mumbled softly. “Monsters are their hunger, the malice they seem to exhibit is just that, ravening hunger… speaking of, what’s that smell?”
An enticing breeze wafted something vaguely familiar under their noses, setting the trio to sniffing, one after another.
“We have four hours ashore… let’s make them count. First, we find that smell and eat… whatever it is ‘til we can barely move.” Amy Ordered crisply. “Move out team, Rio, take point… let’s track it down.” They moved in a loose formation, slipping through the crowd in near silence, communicating in soft whispers over their personal comms devices, as they attempted to triangulate the aroma.
“Down that alley… it’s close… There!”
Three young people in common seafarer’s clothes descended on a lonely cart, down a shabby alley selling fried groundworm nuggets, groundworm skewers and chopped wormhash, just like Mom’s.
Only the poorest of the poor would eat ‘trashworm’ and even then unwillingly… except for orphans everywhere, to them it always tasted like home.
“We need six orders… and where can we get some rice to go with that?” Rio asked desperately. “Do we have sauces?” He asked Wilf, the man with the food supplies in his innate storage gift.
“All good, sweet soy, bibbly que, sweet and sour, hot mustard, sweet chili, the lot.” He answered confidently. “I even have a bottle or three of experimental wildfire spicy plum sauce. It’s a little volatile though.”
The old man running the cart nodded to them knowingly. “Brothers, sister, welcome to my stall.” He said warmly. “My sister sells rice, vegetable curry and steamed lentils around the corner. I set up around here cause… groundworm, you know.” They shared a secret smile, the ‘Citizens’ eschewed monster meat generally, considering it low class and fit only for orphans and Adventurers. Only a few adventurous normies knew the rich flavors of deathshead locust, Snappingsnail innards… or the unctuous, meaty goodness of ‘trashworm’.
“Thanks, brother… Where’s the guild hall in town?” Amy asked happily, as a huge cloud of greasy steam raised from the cart.
“North side of town, Ye kids are new… new members of the family?” He asked gently, eyeing their clothes and personal effects. “Guildmaster’s fair but tough. I retired from the life ‘afore you were born, kids. Be brave, I know it looks hopeless now...”
She flashed her Adventure badge with a grin. “We’re Team Ragamuffin, chartered Adventurers, old timer. Thanks for the tip though!” She chirped happily as she held out their three big wooden bowls to receive their order.
“Youth today, ye act like there arn’t enough monsters to go around… Good on ye… as long as ye come home safe.” He punctuated his sage advice with ladles and baskets of gleaming junk food; to which Wilf and Rio both sighed and nodded at their sister in agreement.
“She’s the troublesome one, eh?” He asked the two lads, who nodded soberly.
“Pure trouble.” Rio agreed softly.
“Hey!” She grumbled sourly, while the geezer loaded their bowls with steaming, fried, grilled, stewed and hashed worm meat.
#