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The fishmother’s son
Chapter 3: Treasure chest

Chapter 3: Treasure chest

The humans dug for a very long time, until the tallest of them was no longer visible from inside the hole. With a command from the woman, they emerged, their comrades pulling them out with muscled arms. Directed by her once again, those that had carried in the chest slowly lowered it into the hole. They were going to leave it, Viisvang thought happily, he wouldn’t have to take them all one after all. They replaced the soil, patting it down over top, and covering the area with leavy debris until the woman was satisfied with their work before heading off in the opposite one from where Viisvang had approached, thankfully missing him. He waited for longer still, making sure they had truly left before emerging from the shrub. It was going to be a long process getting at that treasure, but the fishmother’s praise was worth it. He transformed his hands into claws and began the long process of digging up the chest.

It had taken him until nightfall to get to the chest, but it had not disappointed. Riches of all sorts abounded when he flipped open the chest, using his claws to clip the heavy lock with some difficulty. But what should he bring the fishmother? He couldn’t carry all of it at once, and he was hesitant to just leave it out in the open, what if the humans came back? It would be a long process digging and undigging it each day, but he was resolved. He selected several beautiful looking objects to bring tonight before closing it up and beginning the tedious process of reburying it.

He strung several strings of star-shaped pearls around his neck. He had seen them spherical before, but this novel shape was sure to please the fishmother. He put a tiara on his head, heavy with ornate golden chains that spilled down his back, dripping with shimmering moonstones, several rings on his fingers of various thicknesses, and a cuffed bracelet on each extremity, sliding them over his feet with a little more difficulty than those over his hands. And with a thick sharp dagger with a strange flowing script in his hand, he was ready to return home. It was all exceptionally heavy.

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He made his way into the waves once more, not even bothering to swim, he could simply walk his way back to the reef, with all the treasure he was wearing, grounding him. Several sharks sniffed around him as he walked, curious, but they didn’t bother him, too wary of the scent of the fishmother and to a lesser extent, his own godly aura. He had been experimenting with his abilities, besides his hybrid state, and he could control eddies to some extent, though the fishmother herself could make a massive one, which he had only seen her do once when she had taken issue with a ship that had crossed over her light. The sailors had made a delicious treat, and he had feasted well for days after.

He wondered if they would taste different if he ate them while wearing this body. He had found that some fish tasted different between his two forms, and had since tried as many as he could, enjoying the delicacies of the sea as much as possible. Not everyone got to experience the range of flavors as he did, and he was beginning to become something of a food aficionado. He smacked his lips, wondering what the fishmother had selected for them to eat today.

It was slow going walking in the sand with the extra weight, much slower than swimming had ever been, even when he had that bout of fin rot before he had figured out how to control his own internal microenvironment. He pushed eddies out of his feet, doing his best to hasten his journey with the use of a few well placed currents. It seemed to expedite him somewhat. He finally reached the outer borders of his reef-city with some relief, walking was so hard! He was never so glad to be a fish.

The fishmother was very appreciative of his bounty, delivering him his desired commendations. ‘My precious son is such a perfect child!’ She preened, looking at her reflection in the obsidian mirror, the gold chained tiara on her head, the delicate metal work swirling around her head like seaweed. ‘Mother! Look here!’ he called, presenting her with the dagger. ‘Lovely, just lovely,’ she said, taking it in her mouth and positioning it deftly with her tongue into the soft flesh of her gums so that it emerged from her jaw along with her other teeth.

Viisvang’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. He had brought her back treasure before, but never this much at once, and she didn’t withhold her praise. Perhaps he should slow his delivery of the treasure a bit more, bring it to her more slowly so that he could draw out her praise. Oh what a devious thought.