Celestial Seas Writing Prompts

9 months, 21 days ago
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Chapter 1
Published 9 months, 21 days ago

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Chapter 1

The air outside was cool and crisp, and Dair had decided it was the perfect day for fishing. When Cecil asked for him to explain with a puzzled look, Dair stared at him with wide, accusing eyes. "You don't know what fishing is? You need to get out more. Living with birds all day isn't healthy for you." He explained to him in great detail about the grandeur of fishing, a fierce battle of wits and strength between warriors to determine the victor of the ages. Cecil wasn't exactly sure he was following. But Dair continued to talk anyway. Something about the allure and mystery of not knowing what lay beyond the depths, about the skill and patience it took to fish... even though he admitted he didn't have any of that and just dived in to catch it with his little hands anyway.

Dair had already brought the necessary equipment anyway, so Cecil didn't feel like he had much of a say anyway. Since when did he ever have a say in anything Dair wanted? He always just ended up going with it since the sassy kitbull didn't leave him much choice. Dair plopped a bucket-shaped hat on Cecil's head and a little backpack over his shoulder, and told him to find a spot that looked like it was deep enough for fish to live in it. Cecil pondered a moment, but he knew a spot like that. Just outside the temple where he stayed, in fact. It had its fair share of lakes and ponds. He led the way.

Cecil was not exactly a fisher. In fact, he had probably never even interacted with fish before. Cecil had made a sort of pledge to the gods he worshipped in their temple, and within that promise he was not to absorb the magic of any living creature. Fish included. So he was wary, to say the least... He was not exactly sure how this was done, either. Was he to use his wind magic, to draw the fish out of the water with a heavy gust? Or was he to throw some kind of bait into the magical pond that was just outside the temple? Did magical fish need magical bait? He was not sure. Dair was the one who coerced him into doing this in the first place ("I won't cover you in goo for a week. Take it or leave it.") so he found himself just kind of going with it.

Dair had handed him a shoddily crafted fishing rod. Or well. Something he called the Spellcasterâ„¢ and told him to just go ham. He had handed him a few lures to attach to the end and try his luck. Trying not to prick himself with their pointed tips (or touch the weird squiggling creature on the other end) Cecil managed to successfully prepare his rod and, with an awkward toss, cast it into the glowing waters.

Nothing happened at first. He turned back to look at Dair, who was giving him a four-handed thumbs up. Suddenly, he felt a tug on the other end of the line. Pulling it as much as he could with his little body, it was a tough battle. However, the fish was stronger than he was, and pretty soon Cecil found himself being pulled in the opposite direction, a large splash forcing him to close his eyes shut. He let go of the rod, and kicked his little legs up to the surface. He was grouchy, to say the least, but Dair seemed to be having the time of his life.