Heretical Fishing

Chapter 62: Luck

The forge radiated a calming heat, making me feel at ease.

My eyes widened as the change started

As the hooks transformed, a familiar feeling welled up from my core.

The hooks expanded, then contracted, and they drew my vision in.

Small Barbless Circle Hook of the Fisher

Uncommon

A small hook used for catching fish. The design causes fish to hook themselves when attempting to escape. This hook provides boosts to both fishing and luck.

+2 fishing

+1 luck

The description and stats were the same for all three circle hook variants, the only change being the size listed: small, medium, and large.

Then, it gave a description for the last hook.

Small Barbless Shank Hook of the Fisher

Uncommon

A small hook used for catching fish. The design of this hook makes it easy for smaller fish to eat the hook, and the long shaft protects the line from being severed by sharp teeth. This hook provides boosts to both fishing and luck.

+2 fishing

+1 luck

“Fischer...”

I looked up, worried I’d see Theo watching me.

Instead, Fergus had a flat stare leveled at me.

“That was you again, wasn’t it?”

“I, uh, have no idea what you’re talking about?” My voice trailed off at the end of my sentence, leaving the last word hanging.

He smiled and shook his head before returning to his work at the back of the smithy.

Real smooth, Fischer. Real smooth.

I returned my attention to the hooks, and more notably, their stats.

Just as with my new rod, I could actually read the stats listed. My previous creations—Sergeant Snips’ eyepatch, and the pearl ring—had simply said something about needing ‘requisite knowledge’ to see the benefits they gave.

Is that because I’ve leveled a fishing skill enough to have the requisite knowledge...?

It leant further credence to a suspicion I’d long since held, but had no way to prove: the System messages were trying to tell me about advancements, but lacked the power to do so.

“There’s enough power to continue advancing me, but not enough to tell me about it? Who coded this damn thing...?”

“Who whated what thing?” Theo asked from behind me.

I jumped and almost sent the hooks flying.

“Frack me, mate—you scared the piss out of me.”

Theo raised an eyebrow, glancing down at my pants.

“You... wet yourself?”

“What? No.” I waved the question away. “It’s a figure of speech, my man. I’m saying you scared me enough to wet myself.”

“That’s... an odd thing to say.”

I sighed, waving my hand again.

“Forget it. It’s normal where I come from.”

I considered if I should show the hooks to Theo. I trusted him, but ‌he worked for the crown. Would it make him realize I was ascending, then lead to me being taken?

There’s no Xianxia Liam Neeson to come save me if I’m kidnapped.

Smiling at the inner monologue, I shook my head.

He already held my rod, and that didn’t cause any issues...

“Fischer? Are you alright?”

I looked up at Theo, smiling.

“Yeah, mate. I finished the first batch of hooks.”

I held my hand out, and he opened his palm. When the hooks landed, he held his hand up before his face, inspecting them with an unwavering gaze.

“They’re so smooth...”

“Just like me with the ladies...”

I waggled my eyebrows, drawing a laugh from Theo.

“You mean like before with Maria, when your face went pink as a watermelon?”

“There’s watermelon?” I yelled.

“What? Here? No.” He leveled a finger at me. “Stop changing the subject—I saw the way you two looked at each other. Is she your lady friend?”

He wiggled his eyebrows back at me, but excited as I was, I barely noticed.

They have gods-damned watermelons! I need some! It’d be hard to grow in sandy soil, but with enough watering—

“Fischer...”

“Huh?”

He shook his head at me.

“I mention Maria once, and you get dragged off into your head. You like her that much, do you?”

Heat rose to my face.

“Maria and I are just neighbors—er—friends?”

“You’re blushing!”

“Leave me alone, Theo! The forge is hot!”

***

After another hour, and a few threats to cease production if Theo didn’t stop bringing up Maria, I finished the twentieth set of hooks.

All were the same, and thankfully, none brought on another pulse of advancement that may have been hard to explain.

“I insist,” I said.

“And I refuse,” Theo answered.

“I can make more!”

“Twenty sets and a leather pouch is too many for me to take without payment.”

“You already paid me!”

“How?” he demanded.

I gave him my best jazz hands, singing my response.

“Friendship!”

“... I’m not sure I want to be friends with you anymore.”

“It’s too late—you’re stuck with me. Take the hooks before I start singing again.”

He scrunched up his face but held out a hand, and I happily placed the small leather pouch into his hand.

He peered inside, and despite his hesitancy to accept, a wide smile spread over his face.

“Thank you, Fischer.”

I beamed.

“You’re most welcome, my man. I’ll walk you out.”

I turned my head back to the workshop, yelling.

“Thanks, Fergus!”

“You’re done?” he called back.

“Yeah, mate! All done!”

The burly man walked around from the back of the workshop, removing goggles and gloves as he went.

“Sorry for my rudeness—I’ve got an urgent order to replace an axle bearing for Marcus.”

Theo snorted.

“He told me he would happily wait as long as I wanted—now I know why.”

Fergus gave a rueful grin.

“He’s tricky, that one.”

He glanced at me.

“Who’s your friend, Fischer?”

“Oh! Sorry! Fergus, this is Theo. Theo, Fergus.”

Fergus held out a meaty hand, and Theo clasped it.

“Thank you for letting us use your forge, Fergus. It’s a pleasure making your acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance?”

Fergus’ hand pumped up and down.

“Any friend of Fischer is a friend of mine!”

***

As we wandered toward the merchant caravans, a comfortable silence stretched between us.

My eyes were drawn to the western mountains, the blue skies above them heralding the beautiful day to come.

Theo let out a content noise.

“I’m loath to leave this place, Fischer. The scenery and the people are as lovely as each other.”

“You know, I offered for you to stay...”

He shook his head.

“I still have my commitments—I did have a proposition for you, though.”

“Oh? What’s that, mate?”

Theo chewed the inside of his lip as he considered how to word his offer.

“Why don’t you come back to the capital with me?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“What do you want with me in the capital?”

“I know you have a good setup here, but I thought you might want to be closer to people with an appreciation for your... activities. I’m sure the rest of the fishing club would love to meet you.”

“Sorry, Theo—I have commitments here as well.”

“If it’s work, I can get you a job in the capital. Whatever it is you do here to get by, I could find you a better-paying job. Something with low hours so you can spend as much time fishing as possible.”

I smiled at him.

“Thanks for the offer, mate, but it’s not a financial obligation. I have friends here, and as nice as it’d be to meet some fellow heretics, this is the place for me. Right back at you, too—if you ever change your mind and want to move out here, or even come for a holiday, come ask for me. I live on the southern shores, and most people can point you my way.”

Theo nodded, then produced his notepad.

“I figured you’d say that. Here.”

He tore out a page and held it out to me.

Neatly written words covered both sides—none of which I could read.

“The first is my address if you ever change your mind. The second is the fishing-club president—Josh’s—address. Last is the address of the tailor where you can get clothing like mine prepared. Her name is Sammie, and if you mention my name, she’ll be happy for your business.”

I neatly folded the page and put it in my back pocket.

“Thanks, Theo. You’re a good bloke.”

His eyebrows knitted together.

“You have such an odd vernacular, Fischer. May I assume ‘bloke’ is a good thing?”

“It is,” I said with a laugh. “Just another word for a man.”

“Cheers... bloke,” he replied, testing the words. “Did that sound right?”

“Nailed it.”

We walked between the last two fields of cane before the merchant caravans, and we both came to a stop.

“Well,” he said, “I guess this is goodbye for now.”

He held out a hand, and I looked down at it.

“You a hugger, Theo?”

He smiled, so I grabbed his hand and pulled him into one.

“Until next time, mate. We’re bros now, so don’t be a stranger.”

“Er—bros?”

I let out a loud laugh as our embrace ended.

“Short for brothers.”

“Same to you... bro. Come see me in Gormona any time.”

“I might take you up on a visit soon—I have some things I think I can only get in the capital.”

He flicked the sleeve of my shirt, a wry smile on his face.

“Like a decent set of clothing?”

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with my clothes... but I might visit Sammie the tailor while I’m there... just to peruse her wares, of course—I worry they might be a bit too lavish for a mere peasant.”

Theo winced.

“I was only joking...”

“I know. Just yanking your chain.”

He let out a prolonged sigh at the unfamiliar idiom.

“Do I even want to know?”

I held out my hand.

“See you soon, Theo.”

He clasped it.

“See you soon... mate.”

***

After providing Sharon with another dose of the sugarcane juice, Barry rushed through the forest on the west side of Fischer’s property.

His steps were clipped, late as he was.

He caught sight of the blue-tinted tree, and as he got closer, saw his accomplice was already there—he jogged toward her.

“Sorry I’m late, Snips—I had to dispense more medicine for Sharon.”

Sergeant Snips stood on eight spindly legs, shrugging as she stretched her claws out.

Barry began making his report.

“The first test was a complete success—the sugarcane juice required little processing. As we hoped, but didn’t dare expect, the produce grown from Fischer’s power was enough to awaken Sharon, and she’s making a full recovery from her sickness.”

Snips nodded as she drew words in the dirt.

‘Not needing to use Master’s cooking is good—it makes our goals much easier to accomplish. What did you mean by little processing?’

Barry nodded vigorously, unable to contain his excitement.

“I thought we might need to refine the juice into sugar, then have her eat the granulated essence, either straight, or baked into food by someone with the baking skill. Having the juice work directly saved days—if not weeks—of testing.”

Snips blew what Barry thought was a happy stream of bubbles.

‘Did she agree to the plan?’

“She did! Just as we expected. She took it even better than I’d imagined, and she offered to join us before I could ask.”

Snips nodded again, claw once more drawing.

‘Good.’

She paused, rocking her carapace back and forth in thought before her writing resumed.

‘Should we go over the plan again? We may improve it.’

“I thought the same thing! That we don’t need to process the sugarcane opens up a world of possibilities. How do you feel about making rum?”

Snips cocked her carapace, clearly not understanding the word.

Barry’s eyes gleamed.

“I’ll bet Fischer will love it.”

Sergeant Snips, having heard all she needed to be convinced, nodded her agreement.