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To Fly the Soaring Tides
133 - The Harvest Aproaches

133 - The Harvest Aproaches

With beings on an entirely different plane of existence from oneself, encounters generally went one of two ways. As the sleepy dragon taught Cira, utter annihilation on sight was one reaction to expect, or even becoming prey. It was safest to assume you must escape or die, to generalize it.

It was difficult to say exactly how strong the undine was, but she could tell at a glance even with her meager eyeballs that this was a spirit which would have given Fount Cira some trouble. Good thing I didn’t run into one there, but it is strange.

Old islands allowed plenty of time for one to grow from a sprite. This was liable to happen on any island with a spring. Undines were practically invincible given enough water, and fighting one on Fount Salt would have been like trying to kill a specific drop of water inside a bucket. Her control may have even been inhibited, and it very well could have ruined the plan. That said, Cira had a few theories about their absence there tumbling around.

Presently, Cira was a victim of the other way an encounter with a greater being may go. Reduced to a mere subject of curiosity. This was especially wounding to a sorcerer of moderate caliber striving to become a sorcerer of intermediate caliber.

“Remain still, little one.” The undine’s graceful voice meandered into Cira’s mind, “This will only take a moment.”

Cira pouted for only a moment before a shimmering tentacle fell from far above, pulsing with mana like waves beneath the sun. The crew gained some distance and cowered but couldn’t go too far before reaching the walls of rushing water that still encircled them. The tomb was lit up like Fount Salt’s spring chamber on the final day, and the approaching appendage could probably cut the island in half if it wanted. Could it break Breeze Haven’s barrier, I wonder?

The pressure weighed down on her, getting heavier as it got closer. Twisting and turning, the burning cerulean mana seemed to focus at the tentacle’s point. It hovered before Cira for a moment before gingerly reaching forward and touching her forehead. Cira felt a strangely familiar surge of mana coursing through her body from the sea slug’s appendage, straight down to the soul and back.

“What…” She clutched her chest and stumbled back a step, “What is this?”

This is the same feeling as before. Like I’ve become connected with the spring again… What did this spirit just do to me?

“I said remain still.” The undine’s voice sounded slightly more stern this time as the tentacle followed her, planting itself back on her forehead. Mana flowed in like a raging current come to sweep her away, yet Cira couldn’t feel it collecting in any way.

“What the hell… are you doing?” Cira managed through clenched teeth. The crew was expressing concern, but she didn’t notice them at all.

“Annnnnnd, done!” The undine seemed excited judging by her tone as Cira stumbled back gasping for air, she wiped her forehead off with a sleeve. “I told you. Just a little gift, so make sure to come back here. I have many more questions to ask.”

Cira steadied her breath wore a displeased frown as she crossed her arms and started walking back toward their destination—toward the furling wall of water.

“Gift, my ass,” the undine laughed in the face of her confused disgruntlement, “You can count on me returning. Once my soul is restored, I intend to study you in kind. Now, if you would.”

Cira looked straight upward to look the undine in roughly the face area. Somehow, she still tried to act smug, gesturing toward the suspended river with her eyes.

“No need to be so hasty,” Despite the undine’s cheeky tone, the river prison receded, as if the current were reversing in time. Once the streams reconverged, the waters pulled away with the undine at its crest. “If I may give you one more piece of advice: Tread lightly in your path forward. These tombs have long been claimed by darkness, and not everything is in its right place.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean? “Uh, thanks… See you later, Miss Undine.”

Cira passed as the river and undine slowly returned to where they belong.

“I do not have a name, girl, but it is not Miss Undine.” Sassed the spirit.

“Undina then.” It’s perfect. “Wait no, that too close to Nina. I thought it was clever, but now it’s not original at all. Let me try again—”

“What—impossible,” Undina’s voice sounded somewhat alarmed, “How did you do that?”

The glowing stream flowed itself back into the actual river and the undine gradually wriggled toward the depths.

“Do what…?” Cira was a little confused. “Does that mean you like it?”

From Cira’s perspective, it now seemed she really did come up with the perfect name, but her methods were secret. Undina didn’t seem to feel like pressing the issue though.

“Honestly, child…” Kuja shook her head, “and you don’t even realize.”

“Nice one.” Mac’s far less pleasant voice resounded in Cira’s mind now. “Way to show her. That name’s way worse than mine.”

“I think it’s cute,” Cira quipped, “but I guess it stuck, huh?”

“Hey, Cira…” Jimbo trotted up behind and whispered, “What the fuck?”

“No need to keep your voice down.” Cira flipped off the sound barrier, reactivating the moisture collector right after. It just felt right. “We are now free to continue. Kuja, how far until we reach the Cairn?”

“Perhaps… another couple hours.” She paused for a moment, concern washing over her face, “A-are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Shores butted in, “What did that thing do to you?”

“Is your face alright?” Ike added.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I don’t really know… But I feel great.” Cira could not lie. She hadn’t realized how bogged down she felt until a few moments ago. She had long attributed it to exhaustion and injury, but she felt lighter on her feet now, and full of energy. Her head, clearer than it had been in weeks. There was no aura within her, but the mana around her felt close enough to grasp.

“I believe your father called it a spirit’s blessing,” Mac supplied, “Rejoice. You’ve been blessed by an undine.”

The rest of the crew was startled when he spoke, so clearly, they heard it too this time.

“I don’t know what that means, though.” Just because she knew what it was called, did not mean she understood anything. “It sounds neat, but aren’t blessings holy things?”

“No, those would be best described as something like permanent enhancement magic. You can think of it like a holy curse. Though there are holy blessings too, Nephilim are quite rare. I digress,” the spider digressed, “The goliaths should avoid you, thinking you’re the undine’s spawn or part of her body or something… As far as side-effects you care about, you now possess the innate ability to manipulate water.”

“What?!” Cira could not believe her ears or the fact that he didn’t lead with that. Surely, this can’t be. “No way!”

“I am incapable of lying.” His argument was strong.

“Can it be?!” With an outstretched hand, Cira used her mind to scrape away at the inside of the barrier. Almost like dust in the wind, she could feel the thin water mana brushing against her fingertips—well, that’s how it felt. Biting her lips anxiously, she steadied her breath and focused on the water.

At first, Cira tried to conjure it as she would normally, by manifesting her will through mana. She immediately felt a strain on her mind. There was no mana to pull from to produce sorcery, even if she intended to use the mana right in front of her face. Something just didn’t feel right about it. Still, she tried a few more methods, but nothing worked.

Dammit, why can’t I do it? I know he didn’t lie. And I know I can… I can feel it.

She had paused, bringing the crew to a temporary halt, and started taking deep breaths. I’ve done it before. Just like on Fount Salt. This water is just like a new set of limbs.

“Hah! I did it!”

In front of her outstretched hand there was a gleaming cerulean ball of water, roughly the size of a grape.

“Hey, Undina’s not half bad,” Jimbo belched, pulling out his flask.

“Give me that!” Cira swiped it from his hands and took a drink. “You’ve had enough. How is this not empty already?”

She took another swig and the liquor’s level hadn’t fallen at all. She barely had to tip it halfway to get any out.

“Hold on…” Upon closer inspection, there was a gem embedded in the bottom. “Is this enchanted? How much does this thing hold?!”

“Gallons.” Tawny sighed with exasperation, taking the flask for herself. “This is no time to be drinking. Are you somehow incapable of understanding the situation we’re in? Those goliaths were bad enough but calling that thing a monster doesn’t even do it justice.”

“Hey.” Cira turned around and squinted her eyes, “Undina turned out to be a very nice lady. And the goliaths are no longer a threat.”

“Was she even a lady?” Jimbo posed a reasonable question, “isn’t she some kind of sea slug?”

Cedric seemed a little tired from the encounter, but picked this moment to jump into the conversation, “You know, I read somewhere that they’re both.”

After a short back and forth of hmms, huhs, and pirates nodding to each other in revelation of a fun fact, Kuja cleared her throat, “I believe such spirits are neither. They do not reproduce, necessarily.”

“Uh, Tawny has a point though.” The voice of reason found itself in Captain Shores, “I’ve heard of Undine before, but I never imagined it was a sea slug. We wouldn’t stand a chance against it in a thousand years. She’s supposed to be the goddess of the raging seas.”

“Hey, I’ve heard that one.” Jimbo said, “She takes the form of a beautiful and curvaceous woman large enough to swallow any ship whole.”

“That about describes her,” Cira thought the legends nailed it, “To clear up Shores’ confusion though, Undina is but one specimen of a species, putting it in simple terms. Though I’ve seen an island who worshipped a spirit once. Perhaps something like that is where the story came from.”

Her crew went white imagining undines running around somewhere out there like rabbits, and Cira didn’t see the need to clear up the misunderstanding. A cautious pirate was better than an arrogant one who thought he met a god.

Walking through the tomb, Cira noticed the remains of a few mausoleums scattered about, but there were no longer standing structures left. Any basic grave markers were long gone, and it seemed the brick lining the ground had been mostly ground to dust at this point.

While the tomb stretched further than even Nymphus Stratum, it was broken up into different levels that must also have been the final resting place of many old souls. Remnants of a wrought fence lined the upper graveyards, but even the cliffsides had started to crumble away.

Arriving at the river, darkness encroached on them again. The Undine had swum up the river and now disappeared somewhere into the island, so they could no longer see most of the tomb anymore.

“Don’t ruin it for me.” Jimbo lamented his fantastically bodacious god. “Damn. Guess the bridge is out.”

“Hmmm…” Cira inspected two broken pillars and the ropes which dangled loosely from them, twirling a ball of water on her finger for practice. “Rictor, can you…? No, never mind. This river is far too wide.”

“I can do it.” Rictor ran up to her, “Give me a chance!”

“You can’t just run a sheet of metal all the way across. It will bend. Do you even know the first thing about bridge building?” Admittedly, Cira only did because it related to her recent studies of practical geomancy, but she was aware of the principles involved beforehand. “You need a lot more metal than I guarantee you’re imagining.”

He looked a little downcast, and Cira took a mental note to share a book or two with him later. There was a brief moment of frustration, but suddenly Rictor gasped and lit up like a Lamplight, “No! I can still do it!”

Cira threw her hands up in defeat, “Don’t let me stop you, but don’t pass out or you’re off the team for the next trip.” If he thought he could, by all means.

His staff aloft, mana coalesced to form a small rock. Rictor proceeded to shoot it off to the other side, deep into the veil of shadows before repeating the process. Now that the undine had left, they couldn’t see the other side, so Cira didn’t get what he was doing until the third stone was followed by a dull knock.

“Oh? Think you’re clever?” She teased.

“Just watch.” He failed to hide a smug grin at what he interpreted as praise. To be fair, Cira was slightly impressed. This went on for a few minutes until they heard another dull knock. “Aha!”

“I don’t follow,” Eros had a hand to his chin, “What are you—”

“I said watch!” The staff blazed to life with sandy radiance and a ball of mana appeared in the middle of the left bridge post. It shot out and twisted into the shape of a rope before disappearing into the dark. Given the materials, it would be more of a cable, but it seemed sturdy enough. About as thick as Cira’s forearm. “I used titanium because it is both lightweight and strong.”

“Ahem,” Oliver cleared his throat, “A fine metal. One of my favorites, really—”

“Will you guys cut that shit out? Seriously…” Cira agreed it was a good choice, but the paladin was being a little more blatant than she cared for. “And what, are we supposed to tight rope walk across?” It was just north of fifty feet across, and they would be going blind. “I don’t know if I can make it with this wooden leg.”

“Just wait!” Rictor was sweating nervously, then hastily waved his staff around again before another cable wrapped around the other post and disappeared across the river.

“Hmm…” I see now. Cira watched in silence as he finished that rope and moved to the next.

“And one more down the middle.” The third stretched out from the ground between the two posts. “See? Just hold onto the sides and we can walk across.”

“Not bad, but it’s still going to be difficult.” Damn this leg… All the more reason to press on. “Well done. We better get going then.”

“Th-thank you…?” Cira’s mixed messages seemed to throw him off, but it would get them across.

The only obstacle between them and the soul forge now was this river. Beyond it laid a straight shot, unimpeded thanks to the undine’s assistance. Along the way she would pick up her spare soul like a ripe Moonberry plum off the branch.