Chapter Six: The Sea Mothers’ Blessing
Written by Ethan
“Faullen...Faullen wake up. Your father is almost ready to go.”
Faullen Danvers slowly opened his eyes to see his mother hovering above him. She was holding a thick leather fisherman's coat and hat in her outstretched hands.
“Oh no, I overslept! And I haven't packed yet!” He leapt from his bed and began quickly pulling on the rest of his clothes. His arms flailed as he rushed around the room, looking for the items he needed for the long trip ahead.
“Are you looking for these?” his mother said with a smile, motioning towards a lovingly-packed knapsack and a pair of boots sitting on the small table in the corner of his room.
“Oh, I guess I should have done that last night...like you suggested,” he said, face red with embarrassment.
“Mother knows best, but she also knows that little boys need to learn these things on their own. Now hurry, you don't want to make your father wait any longer.”
He nodded and grabbed his things, pausing in the doorway for a moment and then returning to give his mother a hug.
“Thanks mom. I love you,” he said, then ran downstairs.
“Love you too...and don't forget your breakfast!” she yelled after him.
Fresh coffee, porridge, and pipe smoke enveloped Faullen’s senses as he bounded down the stairs, skipping every other step until he landed firmly on the squeaky floorboards of the first floor. That noisy plank had been a feature of the house for as long as he could remember, one that made quietly sneaking up the stairs after missing curfew a difficult mission.
“Well look who decided to emerge! Welcome to the morning my boy, welcome!” Sven Danvers rose from his chair and walked over to the boy with arms spread wide. Faullen stopped short and stuck out a hand. His father smiled and returned the action, wrapping the boy’s digits in a tight embrace and shaking firmly.
“Hugging your business partner isn't very professional is it? Sorry, old habits die hard it seems. Are you ready to go?”
Faullen nodded as he crammed three spoonfuls of porridge and some toast into his mouth before washing it down with a brimming mug of milk. His father laughed one of his boisterous belly laughs and put his hand on the boy's shoulder.
“Good, good, don't want to get stuck in the harbor when the merchant ships come back. Put on your coat and grab the parcel in the cold storage if you don't mind, I'm going to go say goodbye to your mother. I'll meet you out back.”
Choking down a couple more spoonfuls of porridge, Faullen pulled on the heavy, waterproof jacket. It was one or two sizes too big, a hand-me-down from his father's former deckhand Josiah who had bestowed it to Faullen as a parting gift when he had joined the Capital navy a few months prior. His father was proud to see Josiah go on to bigger ventures, but fishing was hard work, and at Sven’s age he struggled to take on the load of two. Faullen had always dreamed of joining his father on the boat, and despite his parents’ initial objections, had decided to take a break from secondary schooling in order to help. This would be his first day on the job, his first time leaving the quaint and quiet shores of Delvorn.
Faullen pulled open the heavy door that led below ground to the large cold storage closet where his family kept perishables. Sitting amongst the root vegetables and dried fish at the back of the room was a rectangular box wrapped in brown paper, tied securely with twine. He picked it up and carefully tucked it under his arm, then made his way back towards the stairs. It felt warm nestled against his body, like freshly baked bread, and suddenly he noticed a rich fragrance wafting through the cellar that wasn't apparent before. The air was usually so cold and stale down here, but now it seemed almost comforting, pleasant. Faullen looked down at the package. He'd seen his father with packages that looked similar to this one before, but had never thought twice about them. Now his curiosity was piqued.
Despite the early hour, the streets were bustling with activity. The central village of Delvorn revolved around its port, which meant everyone’s schedules aligned with the commerce of the sea. Shops, schools, and even pubs opened up earlier than inland villages on larger islands in order to meet these needs, and transplants such as Faullen’s mother often struggled to get used to the change.
Though the Danvers family lived only a short walk from the harbor, it always took his father at least twenty minutes to reach his destination. These trips were invariably filled with greetings and banter, with Sven stopping every few meters to hobnob with practically everyone who passed. This morning was no different.
“Ahhh Sven, who's this strapping new crew mate?” a white-haired man with a long, braided beard called out from a beaten-up old trawler.
“My boy has decided to join the family business!” his father said, beaming from ear to ear.
“Aye, that's good! Starting him early. I see you've already trained him in the art of superstition!” The man laughed, pointing at the parcel Faullen was holding.
“Superstition you say? More like respect. Maybe I should teach you a thing or two about respect, yah old fart, like respecting your vessel. Then perhaps you wouldn't be patching up that rusty tub of yours every time the sky pisses on yah.”
The man practically keeled over, chortling with such intensity that Faullen thought the grizzled fisherman might pass out. His father had an incredible talent for making folks howl like this. Everywhere he went, Sven Danvers filled the air with jokes and silly songs, and depending on how many pints he’d had, the occasional dirty limerick.
“Dad,” Faullen said as they walked down the dock to their mooring spot. “What did that man mean? What’s superstitious?”
“Pay ole’ Hawkins no mind,” his father chuckled. “Old soggy drunks like him make good mates, but lousy council. He’s just got a narrow view of things, is all. We aren’t superstitious, Faullen. We’re mindful. Come on now, we need to head off before dawn breaks. Don’t want to lose our spot.”
The elder Danvers held out a weathered, scarred hand to his young son and pulled him onboard the boat. Faullen had been on the small fishing trawler many times before, but had never gone out past the Bay of Delvorn. One of his clearest memories was the day he and his mother came aboard for a picnic on the water to celebrate her birthday. The weather had been unseasonably warm and the water still as glass, yet his father had kept his eyes unwaveringly trained on the horizon.
“The sea comes alive out there,” his father had said, the seriousness of the statement etched in his furrowed brow. Faullen didn’t press the issue, resisting his own inquisitive nature, and his father said nothing more on the subject. The concision and finality of the remark was ominous enough that Faullen didn’t particularly want or need to know more anyway.
His father had that same look now. As soon as he started the engine and pulled out of the harbor, his demeanor changed. His face was stoic, eyes focused on something far off into the distance that Faullen could not see. He gripped the boat’s steering wheel tightly, the back of his hands a nest of veins.
Above the sound of crashing waves and whipping wind against the wooden vessel, Sven Danvers’ silence was deafening. No jokes, no songs, just unblinking eyes and a rigid stance that resembled a man who feared that at any moment he’d be pulled from the deck and plunged into the icy depths.
They traveled for hours, long past the point that most of the other fishermen had stopped to release their nets and traps. Even the merchant ships, built for the harshness of world travel, didn’t stay on the path that his father was taking, opting to cut east and around in order to reach their destination. There was something out here these boats were steering clear of; something his father was heading directly into.
His father cut the engines and took a deep breath. They had stopped seemingly in the middle of nowhere, with no landmarks in sight.
“We’re here. Grab the parcel for me, please.”
Sven stood on the edge of the boat, peering over the side into the water below. Faullen cautiously walked over to him, still confused and now even a little frightened by his father’s strange behavior.
“Come boy, do not be afraid,” he said, sensing his son’s apprehension.
As Faullen sidled up beside his father and looked down into the water, he began to understand that their destination was not random. The area was more shallow than he expected, only around ten meters deep. He could almost see down to the bottom, the sea floor littered with large, smooth rocks and wavering strands of kelp. He squinted, trying to understand exactly what his father was looking at, until his eyes adjusted and he began to see with clarity that among the bed of stone and seaweed were the remains of countless ships. Some of the wrecks were ancient, barely distinguishable from the organic world around them, while others looked as if they might have sunk this very season.
“We do not own the sea,” his father said softly, staring into the watery graveyard. “It is important that you understand this Faullen, and that you never forget.” He cleared his throat and gazed off towards Delvorn, then back down beneath the surface.
He motioned towards the water with his hand. “These folks forgot that, or perhaps they were never told, as I was by my father and he by his. But the sea is indifferent to ignorance and pride. If it desires something, it will take it. Now then, please hand me the parcel.”
Faullen handed the package to his father, hands trembling. Sven took the package and gave the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder before releasing the twine and unwrapping the brown paper.
Inside was a small, opaque box containing a plant unlike any Faullen had seen on Delvorn. It was curled up within itself, like the bloom of a tree preparing to blossom. What appeared to be its petals had a texture more like fish scales than flowers, sparkling with luminous shades of blue, yellow, and orange as it was struck by sunlight.
As Sven opened the box completely, Faullen was overtaken by the sweetest and most fragrant scent he’d ever experienced. His mind was instantly flooded with cherished memories. Some of them were ever-present comforts, but others seemed to reemerge from oblivion, once-forgotten but now radiating in his memory. Like sugar dissolving into tea, Faullen was overtaken by the moment, body weightless as he gorged himself on warm nostalgia.
His grandmother was baking cookies on a chilly winter night, then suddenly he was running through the summer sun with his best friend Saul, a puppy nipping at their heels. Next, he was whisked away to a nondescript yet picturesque morning, his body curled up in his mother’s warm lap as his father stared on lovingly.
The images came and went sharply, as if being pulled from his brain and then deposited in an unknown receptacle. As it happened, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was losing these recollections. This prospect was distressing, but at the same time there was a sense of satisfaction that came with it, like giving a toy you’ve stopped playing with to a friend who will appreciate it with new excitement.
The weight of a firm hand on his shoulder and the box being lightly placed into his hands paused his mental journey. He regained his composure, the veil of the fragrance lifting just enough to see his father motioning for him to step up to the edge of the boat.
“Throw it over the side, son.”
Faullen paused, bewildered at the idea of throwing such a beautiful and powerful object into the sea. He hesitated, pulling the box in closer.
“Faullen, please. Trust me.” This time, his father’s tone was tinged with worry, on the cusp of fear. It was enough to pull Faullen from his enraptured state and heed his father’s command; nothing was worth seeing that look on his father’s face.
He moved to the edge of the boat, tipped the box, and dropped the flower over the side. Despite its weight, it floated softly down to the water, petals opening up the instant it touched the surface. As it bloomed, the flower released even more of the wonderful scent, and though this time it didn’t induce any visions, the sense of euphoria remained.
The flower floated for a moment before the bloom began to close back in on itself, curling down along its stem, color gently fading until it resembled a small, dark piece of fruit. A dull glow began to form around its edges as it sunk down into the shallow water.
Sudden movement caught Faullen’s eye, something large and fast moving on the seafloor, just deep enough that he couldn’t discern its shape. It hovered around the falling bloom, then stopped. The bloom began to change direction, drawn in towards the creature until it disappeared altogether. Fearful, Faullen began to step away from the edge, but his father stopped him with a firm hand across his back.
“You can never truly know the sea, but you can let the sea know you,” his father said, gently guiding him back towards the edge of the boat.
Trust in his father blunted his fear, so he carefully glanced over the edge. The large object had begun to surface now, revealing a slender, human-like body covered in light green scales that shimmered as it drew into the light. Its eyes were massive - almost the size of the large fog lights on the top of his father’s boat - with a narrow face that tapered down into a thin mouth Faullen could have sworn was smiling. It stopped and stared up at the boy as if it was memorizing his every feature, then began to move its mouth, small bubbles of air rising to the surface. Only a moment later, as quickly as it had arrived, it disappeared again beneath the surface.
“You did good boy,” said Sven, wiping a tear from his cheek. “The Sea Mothers have given you their blessing. If you honor them, they’ll honor you. Take what you need, not what you want; the sea is not here to make you a wealthy man. Heed my words and you’ll never have to worry about the sea’s fury. You are now known by its keepers.”
***
A loud banging on the door pulled Danvers from his slumber. He groaned as he rolled to his side, old bones creaking as he brought himself up to a sitting position. The light of a new day was poking through the holes in the roof of the rundown old harbor house. He reached over to his nightstand and picked up a small flask, brought it to his mouth, and took an uncomfortably long swig.
Someone knocked again, louder and more aggressive this time.
“I’m coming, I’m coming…” he muttered as he shuffled towards the door.
Danvers had barely pulled the door open when four armed men clad in thick armor and wearing helmets pushed past and took positions around the house, scanning the area for what he could only assume were valuables. He wasn’t even startled that they would try to rob him this brazenly. Theft had become much more common since the Shift had cut the islands off from one another, rekindling animalistic tendencies that hadn't been seen in Delvorn since primitive times.
“If you’re here to rob me, I’m afraid you're a few years too late, though help yourself to my collection if you must,” said Danvers, pointing to a corner of the room lined with various bottles of alcohol.
The men stood silently in statuesque formation, eyes locked on the old fisherman. From their armor and insignias, he could tell they were capital soldiers of some kind, though he wasn’t exactly sure what outfit they belonged to. The black chevron on their uniforms looked familiar, perhaps from a picture Morwell had shared ages ago.
“At ease soldiers,” called a voice from outside the house. “This is a diplomatic mission. Don’t get too excited.”
Moments later a fifth man hobbled into the room with the aid of a cane. He was perfectly groomed, uniform pressed, with an array of medals on his chest polished beyond a reasonable point. This man was a high-ranking official of some sort, though his physical condition made it clear he didn’t achieve his position through bureaucratic means alone. Though he was of average height, he was built solid like a farmer with hard, focused eyes and a square, stubble-free jaw. Age had begun to make its mark on the man. Outside of an obvious limp, the right side of his face was damaged and sagged, thinning hair revealing a row of scarred holes just above either temple.
“Faullen Danvers?”
Danvers nodded.
“Excellent, then our intel was correct. Sorry for barging in here. Desperate times, and all of that.”
“No problem, though if I’m being honest I was kind of hoping you were here to rob and murder me.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you. No murder on the schedule today...though it’s still early. Mind if we sit and chat?”
Danvers nodded, pulling a stool up to the ragged old table that sat unsteadily on four legs of differing lengths. He’d meant to fix it, but as most of his meals of late had been consumed in bed or out on the docks, it hadn’t been a priority.
“My name is Jonas Caldwell, Commander of the Capital Islands Isorropia units.”
“Iso...my good friend was an Iso.”
Caldwell paused. “You’re referring to Francois Morwell? Yes, I’m aware you were closely acquainted with him, you and your granddaughter. He was one of our best.”
“Yes,” Danvers said solemnly. “He really was. I wish I knew what happened to him.”
“As do we. He’d be a great asset during these unfortunate times. But that’s not why we’re here. We need your help with another, more delicate mission.”
Danvers laughed. “Unless that mission is to finish off barrels of beer that are about to spoil, then I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Caldwell’s expression changed, his face tight and serious.
“Unfortunately, there is literally no one else that can assist with this particular task...and it's not an easy request. But we are out of options.”
Danvers folded his arms. “Go on.”
“After the Shift, the Capital Islands assembled teams of Magi and Techniks to help determine its cause, and hopefully find a way to stop it. What’s happening with the columns is a slow, gradual process, so we felt that we had a reasonable amount of time to find a resolution, especially given what we knew about the orbs and their keeper’s ability to shield certain areas from the Shift’s effects. Unfortunately, we’ve hit a major obstacle in the plan and timescales are getting tighter.”
“Laureena...” Danvers said softly, “Laureena is that obstacle, isn’t she?”
“She is.”
Danvers hadn’t spoken about his granddaughter for years, at least not out loud, but his thoughts were dominated by her. Why hadn't he checked the cargo before setting off that day? Why hadn’t he turned around to take her back? Why had the Sea Mothers saved his life and not hers that fateful day? Perhaps things would be different if they would have. Or perhaps Danvers would have been the one rampaging around the world if their fates were reversed.
Caldwell continued: “As I’m sure you’re aware, your granddaughter has developed incredible, destructive powers. Powers we don’t quite understand. Since her reappearance, she's been targeting powerful entities, entities that we’ve discovered are the only means of holding back the Shift. Most are calling them Touched. Every time one of the Touched are destroyed, the Shift accelerates. The outer ring is completely absorbed now, and if we don’t act quickly it is believed that we only have a year or so before the whole planet is consumed.”
“This isn’t her...she wouldn’t willingly do this,” Danvers whispered through clenched teeth. The thought of his Laureena being the catalyst for the apocalypse made him sick to his stomach, made him want to lash out at this man for just suggesting it, though he knew it was likely true.
“The Magi working with us claim there is some historical context to her behavior,” said Caldwell. “Possessions by powerful creatures aren’t unheard of. However, with the latest rounds of magic and technology prohibition, we’re struggling to find answers. Hell, we’re struggling to do much outside of waiting for our eventual demise.” Caldwell’s face twisted with frustration as he spoke.
“I don’t understand,” said Danvers. “Why don’t you just lift the restrictions and find the answers you need?”
Caldwell took a deep breath, cracking his knuckles as he spoke.
“The council ordered technology and texts outside the designated limits to be destroyed, and anyone accused of not adhering to the prohibition exiled to the Outer Rings. They were so determined to honor the charter, and everyone just blindly followed their orders, even after the Shift happened. It wasn’t until they ordered the exile of our own soldiers, those enhanced with tech long before the charter had limited it, that we began thinking for ourselves a bit more. Nothing like a coup during the end of the world to restore your faith in humanity.”
The extent of the Central Islands’ magic and technology restrictions were always something the people of Delvorn had celebrated. In the smaller islands that sat outside the Capital Islands’ main archipelago, the possibility of Magi or Technik invaders overwhelming island settlements was a constant source of tension. But one aspect that had always confused Danvers was how the government’s ban also hamstrung their own military. Morwell had grumbled about this often, claiming that his questioning of these policies had more to do with his retirement than the wear and tear of an aging soldier.
“Despite these challenges,” said Caldwell, “we haven’t given up hope. I’ve sent teams to all of the major islands to extract their orbs and the Touched connected with them. The plan is to fall back to the Capital Islands and hunker down until our people can figure something out.”
“But won’t that leave the islands unprotected? Won’t their seas disappear?”
Caldwell nodded. “Yes, but they’re getting overwhelmed regardless, especially if Laureena gets to them first. We hope that by bringing them all together in one place, we can protect them easier, and maybe even unlock the power of the orbs for our own benefit.”
“But what about the people? It sounds like you’re sacrificing them to protect the mainland.”
“We have more than enough space for refugees, especially given the population lost over the last few years. As you may have noticed, we’ve already begun airlifting people out of Delvorn in anticipation of the orb being transferred.”
“Ok, and what would you have me do?”
“As I stated, she’s targeting the Touched, and because we’re trying to protect them, it’s likely she’ll begin to target us next. Now, she can’t be everywhere at once, so we’ve been successful in focusing on islands furthest away from her reported location. Delvorn is a great distance from where witnesses last saw her, so we presumed it was our next best target, especially given the size of the island and presumed power of the orb and Touched located here. But we’ve run into two major issues.
“First, we can’t find the orb or the Touched of Delvorn. We’ve combed the area and sent divers around the perimeter, but we’ve come up with nothing. When barriers are intact, it’s never an easy task to unearth orbs of power and their magical keepers, but we’re constantly hitting dead ends here.”
“And the second?”
“Your granddaughter is no more than a day away from here, maybe less. We have no idea how; the journey would have taken even our fastest ships a few days. Our timetable has shifted considerably.”
The idea of seeing his granddaughter again both excited and terrified Danvers. He was desperate to see Laureena’s face, to hold her, but was terrified of what she had supposedly become. His old heart couldn’t take the thought of his only living relative being a vessel for death and destruction.
Caldwell softened his tone. “The hope is that if she sees someone she knows, she could still be reasoned with. It’s a long shot, I know, but the fact she hasn't killed innocents outside of the Touched means there is still a piece of her in there.”
“So you think the real Laureena is still there? That she can be saved?” Danvers felt a tinge of hope for the first time in ages.
“Perhaps. And if so, you’re the only connection to her life before the Shift, and our only chance to get through to her. We want you to come with us, in case she intercepts us on our way back to the Capital. If things go according to plan and we make it back in one piece, we can talk about further plans.”
Danvers hesitated. He’d heard about the power of the orbs - knew he was living inside the protection of one - but while Caldwell was offering safety to the people of Delvorn, they hadn’t considered all of the area’s inhabitants. He remembered his father’s words those many years ago: If you honor them, they’ll honor you.
“Ok, I’ll do it. But I need to take care of something first.”
***
Danvers sat on the edge of the pier where his father’s boat had once rested, his feet dangling just above the water. He gazed quietly out over the sea, the reflection of the moon casting a soft, pale light across the still water. There weren’t waves anymore, not for a sea trapped inside a bubble, and the moon never looked quite right reflecting off of what was now essentially a giant pond. Regardless, these waters would always be Danvers’ home. They had been his life, and he knew that this would be the last time he would see them. The last chance for him to repay the Sea Mothers for what they did for him the night the storm struck and the Shift changed the world forever.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his last bottle of rum. He started to take a sip, then stopped.
“Sorry,” he called into the night. “Not very thoughtful to give someone a used gift.”
Danvers dropped the bottle into the water, watching it sink into the depths and disappear.
“I know it's not a Ylvers Bloom, but I’m sure you’re aware those don’t exist anymore. I sure wish they did, especially now. The memories of my girls fade a little more every day.” He wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Not sure you hear me, or even understand what I’m saying, but I wanted to be the one to tell you that Delvorn will soon be lost. They’re looking to take the orbs and the Touched here, and when they do the barrier is going to drop and the sea is going to disappear like it has all over the world. I don’t know if you can leave and go somewhere else, but in case you can’t: I’m sorry. Sorry that I can’t return the favor, that I can’t save you. Sorry that I cursed you for saving me instead of Laureena.”
Moonlight rippled on the placid water. The air was quiet and still. Danvers sighed.
“That’s ok. I understand. I’d be pretty sore with me too.”
As he turned to walk back down the dock, Danvers heard a faint sound like bubbles rising to the surface. He turned and faced the sea again, and as the sound grew louder he watched as an immense shape emerged from the surface of the water and climbed onto the dock.
He trembled as the object slowly rose to its feet, towering above him. He hadn’t felt so small since the last time he had stood next to Morwell. Danvers instantly recognized the Sea Mother as the figure from his past, though the long decades had changed her body, much as it had changed his own. The once-pale green skin had flaked away in large patches, revealing brilliant crimson scales beneath. Her slender face had filled out, aged, now looking more like that of an Aquine than what he had seen in the ship graveyard with his father so many years before.
In her right hand, the Sea Mother held a thick bag made of a slimy, organic material, like a burlap sack made of seaweed. It dripped a green, viscous substance onto the dock. Inside the bag, the outline of an orb glowed through the material. The light it emitted was dull, almost grey - the same shade of grey as the sand that covered Delvorn’s beaches.
Behind the creature, the sea began to howl, and for the first time in years, the tide in Delvorn receded. The action was so quick and violent that boats were ripped from their moorings and drug away into the watery abyss. Within moments, the long supports of the dock were revealed, barnacles and mollusks exposed to the air.
The Sea Mother approached Danvers, her bulbous eyes locked on his. She reached out her hand and laid it softly on his shoulder, a small grin stretching across her face.
“You’re mistaken friend,” she said without moving her lips, transferring the words directly into his mind. “I still plan on saving Laureena...and this world.”
Fate Index:
1. Antagonist gains great power
2. Character loses a limb and has it replaced with an unexpected alternative
3. Protagonist has/develops some incurable urge they must sate daily
4. Protagonist has great power but loses it
5. Protagonist’s identity is thrown into question
6. Flashback episode
7. Protagonist learns unsettling information
8. Protagonist joins or befriends powerful creature
9. Protagonist leaves home for the first time
10. Something consequential turns out to be an illusion
11. Shift in power
12. Betrayal
13. Protagonist finds powerful item or treasure
14. Magic finger traps, but for the brain or heart
15. Semi-permanent transformation
16. Goonie squad
17. Protagonist takes up cause of beleaguered
18. Super intelligent magical infant
19. Protagonist becomes famous
20. Ancient deity decides to walk the mortal realms
Outcomes used:
9. Protagonist leaves home for the first time
11. Shift in power
Added outcomes:
A great artifact of the past is found, calling to a new owner
(thanks to @HazelWinston14 on Twitter)
Shrek and Donkey cameo
(thanks to @funkybasslines on Twitter)
