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Shattered Reef
Chapter 2
The Patron Beast
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As always, Embra awoke the moment light began filtering in through the water and the mostly-covered hole in the roof. She yawned, feeling the typical lethargy that came with awakenings, and stretched out her body as best she could in the alcove where she made her bed. The movement, however, resulted in her dislodging something long and warm at her side. Something that shouldn't be there. Embra froze immediately, whipping her head around to look, and then stared at the partially curled serpentine thing for several moments, remembering what had happened during the night. As young creatures typically did, the hatchling seemed to be sleeping quite soundly, despite her disturbing it. She could certainly see it far better than she could when it first hatched, in near complete darkness, but the morning light made inspecting it far easier.
To get a better view, Embra peeled herself from her damp covers and reached up through the hole in her ceiling, brushing away the seaweed she'd gathered there to hide it. More light immediately filled the den, and Embra blinked several times to become accustomed to it before turning back to the strange creature that had hatched in her makeshift home.
She'd been correct, as far as colouring went. Its underside was a startlingly vivid shade of orange, tinted a little in the hue of the coral she'd seen in some merchants' jewellery. The rest of its body, including the majority of its legs, was blue—a shade somewhere between that of the sky and the ocean on its brighter days. The line where the two colours met, however, was anything but even. It was, rather, quite jagged, with some flecks of the orange underneath spotting the blue just above their division. On its face, as well, the orange seemed to have rebelled and formed a large marking around each of its eyes, which contained a few rough splodges of blue.
It was quite small, really, but considering it had only just hatched (and most things hatching from eggs were far smaller than this) she was sure it was probably going to get quite big. Its massive eyes, far too big for its head, supported that theory. In all, the creature was probably between one and two metres in length, the largest portion of which being its tail, followed by the intersection between its back and front legs, followed by its neck. The thing was disproportionately long, and really looked a good deal like an exceptionally thick serpent with limbs attached. Well, it would, if not for the additional features.
Between its eyes, beginning on the middle of the forehead, a peculiar series of spines ascended, coated in the same rubbery blue skin as the body and connected by thin membranes of bright orange. The shortest two were no more than two centimetres in length, but the longest one was a good eight, at least. They rose like a crest along its neck, and descended into the skin a short distance from its shoulders. A little way into its back, however, they rose again and persisted to nearly the end of its tail. After some inspection. Embra decided they looked a fair bit like fins, and wondered again if her creature was meant for the sea. Similar spines, although there were only six on each side, extended from the sides of its head to form an odd sort of ruff with their orange membranes. The bottom two of those spines, she noticed, were orange rather than blue, being situated within the scope of the orange underside.
Lastly, from what she could tell (the thing was apparently using its own tail as a pillow, making it a little difficult to see), the entire tail seemed to be built as some variety of paddle. While it bore a gratuitous line of the vertical fin-like spines at the very top of the tail, it had another set on either side that were, contrarily, horizontal, and the membranes were considerably thicker. They lengthened towards the middle of the tail and shortened towards its end, at which they abruptly lengthened to massive proportions and formed a large paddle there at the tip, in the vague shape of a rounded kite. Rather than being sharp and thin at the tip like the others, these spines were thick and rounded, the orange membranes between them a good half-centimetre thick, as opposed to the very thin membranes along the spine and around the head.
Done with her thorough inspection of the creature, Embra sat back and pondered what to do with it. It seemed to like her, the perplexing bite excluded, but if it continued to eat at the rate it had done last night she was certain that she'd not be able to keep it. Feeding it would be too difficult—she could barely fill her own stomach, let alone that of some ravenous thing that she'd hatched.
She wondered what it could be, that its egg had survived being encased in stone for probably upwards of a hundred years. Most eggs, like bird eggs, needed to be sat on or the things inside died. Plus they were easy to break. Her egg matched neither of those characteristics.
Embra sighed, and looked at the hatchling. She didn't want to leave to go foraging while it was there, because she was worried it might leave the cavern while she was gone and get lost or eaten or something. She supposed she could use her emergency money to just buy food, and then return, rather than go to the trouble of stealing it. She did, however, have enough food left over to feed herself for the rest of the day, but certainly not the creature. It had eaten all the fish she caught already. Absently, she reached over and began picking out bits of shining eggshell that she'd missed. She would probably be able to sell it, since it was so pretty. People might want it for jewellery. She stowed it into her valuables alcove, and then decided to avoid the process of waiting for the serpent-thing to wake by waking it herself. She did this by nudging it several times in the side.
The creature's eyes opened sleepily, revealing large irises of a startling ice-blue. It blinked at her slowly, releasing a soft questioning noise. When she didn't answer, it unfurled itself and stretched out, much like she'd done earlier, displaying its surprising length and bright colours. It looked too long for its legs, and its head was disproportionately large. She assumed it would grow out of that, but for now it made it move with a distinct lack of grace. The thing was rather clumsy, if the way it stumbled as it went to approach her was any indication.
Embra knelt down as it came closer, still a little on edge but mostly willing to trust it wouldn't hurt her. If it had wanted, it could have hurt her while she was asleep, but it hadn't. She supposed it was just a baby, anyway.
The creature looked up at her inquisitively, blinking a little as its eyes adjusted to the light. Its pupils thinned, and she noticed for the first time that they were slit-shaped, like a cat's. It crooned, dropping its head on her knees. After a moment of hesitation, Embra reached out to run her fingers over its warm skin, unable to suppress a smile when it immediately leaned into the contact and began chirping happily.
It really makes the strangest sounds, Embra thought to herself, a little fondly, then sighed at the indication of her apparent attachment to the creature. Feeling a little hungry, she leaned over, stretching to relieve an alcove of its meagre food, and swallowed it down quickly. While her stomach felt fuller, the sense of hunger, oddly, did not go away. Instead...
Embra frowned down at the hatchling creature, wondering if it was hungry and she wasn't just imagining things. The way it looked up at her pitifully and released a rather pathetic wail as it snapped its mouth open and shut soundly answered that question, and Embra inwardly groaned. How was she going to feed it? She could, for now, buy something, but would it wander if she left?
Well, there was no way around it. She removed the creature's head from her knee, retrieved a handful of coins, and began to crawl over to where the cave's most accessible entrance was, and scowled when it plodded after her on awkward legs. "Stay here," She ordered it, not really expecting it to understand, and shoved it gently away from her to emphasise her point. It chirped questioningly and, again, tried to follow. "Stay." She insisted again, rising briefly to pick it up (it was fairly heavy, but most of the difficulty carrying it came from its being so long) and plant it in her bed. This time it seemed to get the idea, and only made a series of clicking sounds at her as she left.
She hoped it would stay put, but just in case, she'd hurry.
The fishermen wouldn't be coming back in for a while yet, so Embra exhausted her coins on the cheapest food she could find, that would keep her going for a while. There wasn't nearly enough to buy for the creature too, she knew. Shortly after stowing it in a very thin alley to pick up later, she began the risky manoeuvre of sneaking into the back of the butcher's shop. This was, initially, accomplished by her using the tip of her knife to carefully pick the lock. She wasn't especially practised in such things, so it took her a while, but eventually she was able to slip through the door and quietly close it most of the way behind her, taking shelter behind the immense carcass of a pig, strung up by a gleaming hook from the ceiling. She'd never attempted anything like this before, as the intimidation factor of all the knives and blood had always been a little too intense for her, but now...
Heart beating like a war-drum in her chest, Embra listened for the voice of the butcher, conducting business in the front. They placed their orders, and upon hearing them, the butcher ambled into the back room where Embra hid, where took hold of several bloody cuts of beef and returned to his customers.
The moment he closed the door to the back room, Embra bolted from her cover. On one wall, a wooden pole nailed into the wall bore several hooks from which dead game birds hung. She liberated one of those fat, feathery masses, then took under her arm a long dried sausage. The last thing she claimed was two large steaks before she rushed to the back door, opened it, and closed it quiet as possible behind her. The butcher would be returning to the back room any second now, she knew, so Embra squashed herself into a side alley in the mere space of seconds. It was several minutes and a good amount of distance before Embra could bring herself to relax. Somewhat sensibly, she'd always avoided stealing from the butcher, because the threatening way he fingered knives as she passed had always scared her. Not long before, though, she'd survived an encounter with his stall where she even got away with one of his knives, and that had served to dull her terror at least a little.
Her hands were bloody from the meat, she noticed, and Embra eyed the alleys around her. A girl carrying large quantities of meat would be immediately labelled a thief, she knew, so she had to find something to carry it in.
It took several minutes of searching, but eventually she found a small, hole-ridden sack sewn of rough, ropey material discarded in one alley. The holes weren't big enough for anything to fall out of, so it suited her needs. She piled the meat into it, hoping the blood didn't soak through before she got back home, and then navigated her way to the street where she'd hidden her earlier purchases. However, she had not anticipated what she saw there.
Some stray dog was snapping at the food she'd bought earlier. It hadn't touched the bread, but several of the dried meats were already gone. Embra debated fight or flight for several seconds, before raising her knife and making a decision. It was by no means a small dog, but it was not large either, and much like her it was thin and bedraggled from street living. She flew at it, making aggressive noises as best as her human voice box could, and dealt it a small slash on its flank as a warning. It backed away, yelping in alarm, and stood still for a moment. Knowing it was probably deciding whether or not to attack, she rushed at it again, cutting it over the shoulder and giving it a kick to the chest.
The dog made its decision, and fled, whining.
Embra sighed with relief, and piled the remaining food into the same sack as the meat. She then hauled it over her shoulder and squeezed through the streets towards the sea. She felt a glimmer of pity for the dog, and was relieved she hadn't had to kill it. In a way, it was a lot like her, just trying to survive.
...But she was responsible for more than herself, now.
She received a good few suspicious glares for the sack over her shoulder, but Embra escaped to the beach's misty rocks without incident. As always, she approached the hole in her roof and cleared away the concealing seaweed, peering inside anxiously. She sighed with relief when she caught a glimpse of the brightly-coloured serpent-thing staring up at her in surprise. It was still there.
The bag was too thick to fit down the hole, she found, so Embra irritably removed the duck that she'd pilfered and stuffed it in, head first. Without the fat bird adding to its bulk, she fit the rest of the bag in without much difficulty. Embra hid the hole and wheeled around, plunging into the water.
Upon entering the cave, she found her creature sniffing curiously at the food in the middle of the cave. Its attention quickly shifted to her, though, and it greeted her happily with a variety of its strangest sounds and a pleased head-butt to her outstretched hand. Unbidden, a smile came to her face. It really was too soon for her to get attached to the creature, but it was happening anyway. After a moment of consideration, Embra decided to sacrifice the duck to her creature, if it would eat it. She had no idea how to gut a bird, so it was the simplest choice to make. First, though, she wanted its feathers. They'd probably make good bedding.
Embra lightly pushed the highly curious creature's nose away from the bird, and gathered it as well as the rest of the haul into the top of the cavern. She set the sack next to her, which the creature began sniffing interestedly at the smell of blood, and put the duck in her lap. Soon after, she was (somewhat viciously) pulling large handfuls of feathers away from it, in some cases savaging the skin beneath and leaving it a bloody mess. Her work was by no means neat, but it ended with her having a sizeable addition to her comfort and the creature having a lot less work to do.
Triumphantly, Embra presented her creature with the savaged bird. "Eat." She instructed, vowing to cause it bodily harm if it decided that meat was not to its liking.
She was not to be disappointed, though, because after a few seconds of contemplation, the hatchling released a delighted croon and snatched the bird from her hand. Embra watched, fascinated, as it hauled the dead fowl over to a corner of the cave, curling its long body around it and tearing large mouthfuls of flesh, and fat. It might be a baby, but it was certainly a meat-eater, and its teeth were sharp. She knew that first-hand.
Her creature, apparently, was ravenous, if the way it was eating was any indication. Within moments she heard the crunch of bones and winced, sparing a worry that the bone shards might get caught in its throat, but it seemed to be managing perfectly well. It was eating through the ribcage and had, just that second, begun gulping down a medley of duck-sized internal organs. The paddle-thing at the end of the creature's tail, through the entire meal, was flicking here and there with intent, reminding Embra oddly of the twitching tailtip of a cat.
The meal was finished so quickly that, in just over five minutes, there was nothing but a few feathers, a chewed duck head, and two webbed legs to show for what had once been there. That, and a puddle of blood, which the hatchling was eagerly lapping up.
"...I don't even know what you are." Embra murmured as she watched her creature. At the sound of her voice, it turned its head and blinked large eyes at her, licking its gory chops. Something itched at her mind, a question shaped like a tendril that nudged into her thoughts. Instinctively, Embra rose a hand to her temple, wondering at the strange feeling, and stared at her creature. It came again; something that felt like a question, something that was a blurred, simple form of what? projected into her thoughts. Tentatively, she nudged at the question with her own thoughts. It felt distinctly strange, doing such things with her mind. She wasn't used to it.
Slightly disturbed, Embra looked at the almost comical sight of a duck head and two feet on the floor, and wondered if her creature was still hungry. She withdrew one of the cuts of beef she'd liberated from the butcher, and offered it to the creature. Its eyes widened as it considered the meat, then it snatched it away and settled down with one of its front feet over it, contentedly pulling bits off and snapping them down. It ate at a much slower pace, this time, which she supposed meant that it was almost full. Embra sighed at its appetite. If not even a full-grown bird could satisfy it for a single meal, she had no idea how she'd be able to feed it. Somehow, though, the idea of getting rid of it already seemed unthinkable, despite the impracticality of raising something that ate at least three times what she did in a single sitting, while still a hatchling. She certainly wouldn't be able to feed it when it got bigger.
...I need to find out what it is. With that thought in mind, Embra wiped her bloody hands on the sack and grabbed her knife, slipping it into her sleeve.
She was going to do some investigating.
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Embra stared at the library with no small amount of frustration. Naturally, a library was the best place to obtain information, but even if she could read she doubted anyone would let a child as dirty as her enter there.
She both wanted and needed to find out what the creature she'd hatched was, but there seemed no way of learning.
Irritated and discouraged, Embra wandered aimlessly around the streets for a while, eventually settling near the grand citadel to think.
Well, it looks like it's a sea creature, but it can breathe on land and doesn't dry out like a dolphin would. It's nothing normal, or its egg would have broken or died ages ago. Something magical, maybe? Like a dragon? But dragons have wings, everyone knows that... Embra mulled it over, and then, abruptly, her thoughts snapped to Jeod. With his interest in the 'stone' she'd described...and he'd asked if she thought it was hollow, like an egg would be...
Maybe Jeod knew.
But if he did, and the creature was something rare and important, would he try to steal it? Maybe kill her so she wouldn't tell anyone about it? She shivered, and resolved to go nowhere near Jeod unless she'd completely exhausted all avenues.
Sighing, Embra stood to change location. The shadow of the citadel fell far indeed, and she was starting to get cold. She admired it as she went—while the whole city had been built for defence, the artisans had long since established their works on the stone. Great gargoyles and oppressive statues wrought in stone overlooked much of the city's centre. She looked up briefly at one statue, depicting a great twisting creature with snapping teeth and eyes of stone fury, and admired its detail. That she'd never be able to do anything like that was a fact she was certain of. Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the largeness of the buildings and the statues, she made to leave, taking one last look at that fiercely detailed sculpture...
...and froze.
She whipped around and stared, trying to get a better look at it.
The statue was of something that, at first glance, looked a lot like a writhing serpent, its lower half coiled in water and its upper half rearing up. But, beyond that, there were legs on it. Legs with feet with five toes, complete with wicked talons. The head was far too long for a snake's, and the shape was all wrong. That alone wouldn't have meant much, but...
Along the length of the stone creature were spines connected by membranes, flared up like the hood of a cobra about to strike. It was shockingly familiar.
Embra gaped at the statue for several minutes, unable to believe that she may have found some answers by pure chance. There was writing at the bottom of the statue, but of course, she couldn't read it.
Overcome by shock and inspiration, Embra looked around and then ran to intercept the path of two scholars. "Excuse me, sirs!" She gasped, looking up at them pleadingly. "But could you please tell me what that is?" She pointed at the statue, trying to be as polite as possible.
The one on the left snorted, and made to walk by her. "We have no time for urchins such as yourself," He snapped at her, but stopped when his companion laid a hand upon his shoulder.
"We are not so busy that we cannot share some of our knowledge," He claimed, then turned to smile genially at Embra. He was of advanced age, his wispy hair between grey and white. He, like his companion, wore glasses, with a glint of some strange curiosity behind them. It was slightly ridiculous how well he personified what Embra had always imagined a scholar typically looked like. "That statue, child, is of a creature of myth that our oldest records called the 'Serpente of Oceanes', or a Sea-Serpent."
"...They aren't real?" Embra asked after a moment, completely intent on the scholar's words. The other one snorted derisively, though.
"Perhaps. The records we have from those times aren't quite detailed enough to be certain." He smiled. "What we do know is that many, many centuries ago, the first settlers here were highly superstitious and did believe in these Serpents. At any rate, they were afraid enough of them that, for a time, they worshipped the beasts to try to appease them. Such times are long past, but they have left their mark." The scholar glanced fondly at the statue. "Even today, the Sea-Serpent is considered the patron beast of Teirm. Some people in this city even believe that the Serpents will protect their ships in the sea, if they honour them."
Embra took a moment to absorb the information. "So there aren't any actually in the seas?" She persisted. "What could they do? And how big did they get?" Both, she felt, were highly relevant questions.
"This is keeping us too long." The other muttered irritably. His friend jovially ignored him.
"No one in memory has seen a Serpent, so we mostly believe that they are mere legends." He replied cheerfully. "I'm not sure what their abilities were, other than outstanding physical strength, but the old texts seem to associate them with rough waters and stormy seas. As for their size...well, it is said that a fully-grown Serpent was more than capable of crushing a massive ship to pieces in the same way that a snake constricts a mouse it catches." His smile faltered a little. "Unfortunately, my companion is right. We really must be on our way. If you have further questions, perhaps you could find me here in...another week, I believe. I shall be here around noon, at that time." He nodded to her. "Good day, child." And, with that, they were gone; the unpleasant scholar on the left mumbling darkly as they went.
Embra stared after them for a while, head swimming, and eventually turned into the street that would take her home.
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Her creature had settled down on the bed when she returned, and looked up excitedly when she arrived, greeting her with rapid clicks and whirs in its throat. She sat down beside it and obligingly scratched around its head, smiling at the blissful crooning that the attention elicited. She observed its long proportions, the fins, the tail clearly designed for thrusting water. "Sea-Serpent, then?" She murmured, and it clicked questioningly, at the same time that another of the strange question-tendrils pushed into her mind. She hesitated, and followed it to its source, becoming a little alarmed when she felt her thoughts somehow leave the confines of her mind. Her own probe clung briefly to the one it had followed, then moved along it like a bridge to arrive somewhere completely foreign. Certainly a mind, but it was incredibly fast and chaotic, colours and images and sounds passing almost too quickly to read. Prevalent, though, was an image of herself, seen from in front of her.
Embra stared at what was apparently a mythical creature, suddenly certain that she'd somehow contacted its mind.
She was distracted from her shock by the Serpent posing another of its questioning tendrils. It certainly was a curious thing. She thought for a moment, and then projected an image of the statue she'd seen. It squeaked in surprise, eyes wide, and as she held the image she could feel the creature prodding it with vigour, obviously spotting the resemblance. Worried that it might think it was real, she projected the sensation of cold, lifeless stone at it, layering it over the image of the statue, to make sure it understood. She received something that felt like disappointment, and knew that she'd been understood.
How intelligent was the creature, anyway?
She retreated back to her own mind, and remembered the scholar's words about the size of Sea-Serpents. She pictured one of the big cargo ships she saw in the harbour sometimes, the really massive ones, and then she imagined a version of her creature big enough to coil around it and crush it to pieces. That image and the sight of the rather small and weak creature before her were a little hard to reconcile. There would be no way for her to keep a creature so large, at any rate.
She supposed she could live as a hermit on Sharktooth island. Embra snorted at the image, and shook it away. As if.
She looked at her creature, considering it. She didn't know why she was already so fond of it, or why getting rid of it seemed such an incomprehensible idea. She supposed she could release it into the sea when it got too big, but even that idea was unpalatable. The Serpent, if its reaction to that thought was any indication, apparently agreed with her.
Where had it come from, anyway? A supposed mythical creature, that had existed thousands of years ago...perhaps they were made extinct, like the dragons, and this one's egg had been the only one to survive, encased in the waste of the sea until she pulled it out. Even then, why had it hatched now, and not before it gained its rocky layering? There were too many questions.
The biggest concern, for the moment, was food. If it didn't start hunting for itself soon, there was no way she'd be able to keep it. No way at all.
Embra sighed, and a familiar series of clicks replied to the sound. Suddenly, looking at the Serpent, she realised there was another mystery to the creature, one that simply hadn't occurred to her before then. She didn't know what sex it was. Well, that was a question whose answer she could probably find. Embra leaned forwards and picked the Serpent up by its lengthy middle, evoking a squeak of surprise from it, and peered between its back legs. She put it down a second later.
The Serpent was male, then.
Feeling mollified by the proof that she at least knew something about the Serpent, Embra stood and went to leave the cave again. The fishermen should be back by now, and she needed to check if they'd left anything in their nets.
The affair had to, of course, be conducted with stealth. Even if what she found had been left behind, the men wouldn't take well to her stealing it.
She slipped into one of the smaller boats when no one was looking, and poked around the little net. She found nothing inside, but underneath, to her delight, there was a perfectly intact harpoon left unattended. She immediately pulled it out and bolted down the beach before anyone could see her. A harpoon that actually worked would make her fishing exploits much easier. It was more than a little big for her, but she'd manage somehow.
The hubbub of ship hands attending to the boats meant that it was unlikely she'd be able to return to the harbour, so she stowed her harpoon with the broken one she used as a spear, and concentrated on trying to figure out her Sea-Serpent.
The thing always seemed pleased to see her, which was heartening, but being only a day old she had no idea of how he would progress. How fast would he grow? Would he leave when he was old enough? Would he start to hunt for itself soon? She had no way of knowing. He was a supposedly mythical creature, and as such she supposed information on them would be scarce.
Shortly afterwards, she went to sleep for the second time not alone. When she awoke the next morning, however, her Serpent seemed to be discovering the pool of water at the end of the cave. He never strayed out into the sea, but it became a frequent thing to see him in the water. It was, she supposed, one of the only things she could have anticipated.
Oo0oO
"You really need to control your appetite," Embra told the keening creature crossly, four days later. The Serpent had visibly grown since his hatching, having developed at least two metres in length, and a little in height. If he continued at the rate he had been growing at, he would be double his initial size in three days time, making his incredible appetite easy to understand. Every day the thing ate more, and she was so busy foraging for him that she was barely able to keep herself fed. The butcher had caught onto her tricks after two repetitions of her earlier stunt and it was only barely that she escaped without injury. A few fish had been freed from the fishers' nets, but they were quick to chase her away. The new harpoon was a challenge to use, but the sheer speed it fired at added a few more fish to the supply.
However, with the Serpent's voracious appetite, she'd been required to devote more and more time to finding food for him and less finding it for herself. The dried sausages she'd stolen were lasting well, but she had spent all her money and her recent activity was making all the shopkeepers wary of her presence.
The day before, she'd stolen a small crate of fish from the fishmonger's stall while he was distracted, but getting away with it in her arms was one of the hardest escapes she'd ever made. Her Serpent had certainly enjoyed the fish, though.
Now, however, she had nothing to feed him. And he was hungry.
"I don't have anything." She mumbled irritably, while trying to ignore the plaintive cries he was giving her while butting his head into her side. Eventually, she sighed. "I suppose I'll be going fishing again." It was late, later than she was usually out, and it would be hard to see the fish in the water soon. If only the Serpent could catch his own fish...
...There was an idea. She could bring the Serpent with her and try to teach him. He hadn't been outside before, but the coming darkness and the fog combined meant that there was no danger of being seen.
Mind made up, Embra grabbed both the harpoon and the spear, and prodded her Serpent. "Come with me," She told him, and felt the weight of his thoughts press into her mind. What? Came one of the only four words he seemed to know (the other three were 'hungry', 'no', and 'yes'). She'd been surprised the first time he had thought words at her instead of feelings or images, a mere day before, but had more or less learned to expect the unexpected when it came to her Serpent. From then on she'd tried to talk to it more, to perhaps expand its vocabulary, but she wasn't accustomed to talking much. It was strange.
"Follow me," She said again, impressing the image of her ducking through the water out of the cave into his mind. "We're going out."
He took a moment to digest that concept, and immediately a concept of excitement so vivid it made her dizzy overflowed from his thoughts. A flurry of elated clicks and whirs followed, so rapidly that it seemed a rolling stream of eccentric noise. Embra smiled a little, and ducked out of the cave, coming out of the water on the other side and shaking her head free of the water. A moment later, the Serpent emerged as well, cutting through the water like a knife, and he raised his head to stare at Embra excitedly.
She climbed out of the shallows, grabbing her hair in both hands and twisting it to wrench more water out, and proceeded onto the rocks. "Come on," She commanded, stepping over the rough rock and onto the pebbled beach.
Her Sea-Serpent reluctantly slid out of the water and followed her over the black stone. Since his hatching, he seemed to have gained better control of his limbs, and no longer stumbled when he walked. As he moved, the long stretches of his body twisted like a snake in the water, making him really quite fascinating to watch. He was, if the legends were to believe, built for the water, but he seemed to manage remarkably well on solid ground.
After waiting to make sure he was keeping up, Embra climbed up onto a larger stretch of rock, connected to the cliff, which led quite far out into the water, making it as good a place to fish as she would ever find. The Serpent struggled to climb up for several moments, but then his claws (she noted that he had six of them; five on his five toes and one at his heel for grip) clamped down, their wicked black points granting him all the purchase he would ever need. A brief image of the statue's rapier teeth and claws came to mind, and Embra shivered, wondering if this small (though rapidly growing) creature would ever become so fierce.
Once the Sea-Serpent had joined her atop the rock, following it out to sea was a simple matter, though Embra went carefully to avoid slipping in the dark. Through the fog and the dark of night, only the brief glow of the shrouded moon, and the fading twilight blue on the horizon, guided her passage now. She was sure that even seeing fish, let alone catching them, would be difficult in this darkness.
In short time, she had reached the edge of the rocky outcropping, and knelt down to squint at the waters only a short distance away from her perch. It was at times like this she was grateful the rock was so rough; if it were smooth, she would have slipped into the depths and drowned long ago. If she really looked, she thought she could see the silhouettes of fish in the water, but it was too dark to really tell. She cursed softly, attracting the attention of the Serpent which had settled beside her. He made an inquisitive noise. In response, she pushed an image of the dark water, her desire to find some fish, and a feeling of irritation into his mind.
Embra felt the Serpent ponder that for a moment, and then, hesitantly, a much clearer image of the water edged into her mind. She blinked with surprise at how much more defined it was; apparently, the creature's sight was a good bit better than her own. But not, still, made for the dark. Details were easier to make out, but the fish...
She latched onto her creature's mind, eliciting a surprised squeak from him, and through a venue of pure instinct dove into the experiences of his sight. Gently, she directed him to look at the water instead of at her, and after a pause, he did so. She inspected the waves through his eyes, marvelling at the greater intensity of colours and contrast between light and dark. A moment passed, and then she saw a shape in the water. Triumphantly, she grabbed at the Serpent's thoughts and shoved them in its direction, displaying the silhouette of the fish for him. To clarify, she summoned a picture of her spearing a fish in daylight from her own mind. A flicker of understanding sounded in his mind, and he pushed her out.
Startled by the sudden ejection, Embra stared at her creature, who appeared to be concentrating intensely. A moment later, several pinpricks of dim light came into existence. She recoiled, trying to find their source, and a moment later did. Her creature's spines, between which stretched orange membranes, were giving off faint, dim spots of light from their very tips. It wasn't very bright at all, and a faded icy blue in colour, but she'd had no idea he could produce light in the first place. It was brightest, she noted, on the strange rudder of a tail he had; each of the thick, rounded spines on it bore a glowing shape like an oval within it, and then a series of similarly lit odd markings that went as far as the paddle's root. She'd never observed any such markings on his tail in the daylight, which made their sudden illumination all the more startling.
"I didn't know you could do that." Embra noted, both surprised and impressed, despite the faintness of the light projected. The lights might have been quite visible on the strange tail, but on the tips of the spines they was so very dim as to nearly be invisible. She doubted it would be of much help, but she appreciated the effort.
Her creature shrugged his shoulders, a disturbingly human motion, as if to reply that he hadn't known either. Then, without any indication as to what he was doing, he climbed down to the water's edge, turned around, and deposited his glowing tailtip into the black water. Embra noted that, for about a half-metre around his tail, she could see the water, but aside from that it was fairly useless. She would be completely unable to spot any fish with such a dim lantern to see by. The girl was in the process of telling the Serpent this when, abruptly, a dark silhouette come looking interrupted her.
Apparently attracted by the Serpent's glow, a fish of average size drifted around the light, occasionally darting forwards to nip at the skin. The Serpent flinched a little when it did this, but didn't move. Instead, he looked at Embra expectantly.
Exalting whichever god had granted her Serpent his excellent instincts, Embra grinned, the unfamiliar expression feeling odd yet natural on her face. She needed no more encouragement to tote her harpoon, lean in for better aim, and fire. A splash of water and the last flops of the speared fish followed. She quickly withdrew and pulled the slippery creature off, holding it by the tail. She inspected it, finding it to be of fair size.
Eat? The Serpent asked, presenting her eagerly with the newest addition to his vocabulary. Embra spared it a brief flicker of delight, but mostly she was too pleased about the promising new ease of her finishing to be very much occupied by her Serpent learning a new word.
And, as pleased as she was, she was hardly going to deny him. "Go ahead," She agreed, and tossed the fish to him. A moment of snapping teeth later, the entire thing had disappeared down his gullet, leaving a rather satisfied-looking creature behind. "So, why don't you put your tail back into the water, and we'll see how many fish we can catch?"
The Serpent, of course, was only too happy to comply.
It seemed that feeding him would be a little easier from now on.
Oo0oO
So, notes: it is not logical for Embra to be able to read. Hence why information must come from other sources. And yes, I'll be explaining why a scholar is actually devoting some of his time to answering some random street kid's questions.
If anyone is wondering what in God's name is up with the sounds our Serpent makes, think of a cross between a dolphin and a bird, with noises from whales, things that roar, and probably the freaky sounds that ostriches make. Mostly dolphin/bird though, with clicks and whirs and cheeps and trills. These will get louder and deeper as he grows.
Also, WARNING: while in many ways Sea-Serpents bear resemblance to their reptilian cousins, they are different. Very, very different. For one thing, they only have long-range offensive capabilities in special circumstances. They compensate for this by being ridiculously fast. They also have a lack of protective scales, another thing they compensate for, in an unusual way. Also, whereas Dragons are fantasy beasts of magic, mystery, and power, Sea-Serpents are purely hardwired for survival. They are better at killing and surviving than anything else. And, being the last of his kind, this Serpent is going to find a rather freakish way to ensure his species survives. That's your warning. You may find future concepts squicky, uncomfortable, and certainly strange.
-Darktayle