Episode 16 - Lake of the Mists

“Don’t judge a fish by its ability to fight in the arena,” Spymaster Edward snorted. He sat in a boat on the Lake of Mists. Sheila Greywand had tasked Timshard to discover what was riling up the creatures, and then, as the younger brother, Timmy had delegated the task to him.  As if one would come up and tell him. “It’s likely just some big, stupid fish out here causing trouble.”

The sun began to set. The Spymaster looked to his fishing pole and line. He hadn’t had a bite all day, but he had a lot of time to ponder solutions to his problems. “Well, if I fished only to catch something, my fishing days would have ended long ago.”

Putting his oars in the water, he saw a light in the depths. It rose. Gradually realizing the creature was massive, Edward froze. He knew the protection of Sheila Greywand surrounded the boat, but he didn’t want to put her abilities to the test.

Edward followed the creature’s glowing orb as it circled the boat a few times. Waves from underneath pushed the boat as the creature surfaced to the side of his craft. Larger than his boat, it was dark grey, similar to the water’s color. It had a massive head with a crescent-shaped mouth filled with translucent, razor-sharp teeth. However, its most distinctive feature was a modified dorsal fin that extended from its head, ending in a round sack that glowed brightly.

Edward recognized the fish as a lurker lure but knew these were rarely seen as they inhabited the lake's depths. However, this one was acting strangely. The two stared at each other.

“Hello?” Edward asked.

The lurker lure’s gills opened and closed. It seemed to be breathing. “Hello,” it echoed back, sounding like someone gargling phlegm.

“A dumb fish that can speak?” Edward said, astounded at the thought.

The lurker lure breathed a few more times before it said in a gurgling voice, “Just because you can speak doesn’t make you intelligent.”

“Hurtful.” Narrowing his eyes at the fish, Edward asked, “Are you the creature stirring up the inhabitants in the Lake of Mists?”

Ignoring his question, the lurker lure asked, “I sensed powerful magic and followed it. It surrounds your boat. Where is its source?”

“You mean the Greywand?”

“Where is the source?” the lurker lure gargled. “I need its power.”

“You won’t get it.  It’s well protected. Besides, it's on land, and you’re a fish, so…”

“The fish always sees the bait, never the hook,” the creature gurgled. It moved closer to the boat.

“Don’t kill me. I’m not even supposed to be here,” Edward pleaded.

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to inhabit you,” the lurker lure warbled in an inhuman-sounding voice.

Edward's eyes went wide as something happened inside the lurker lure. Another creature emerged from its body.

A piercing scream echoed on the Lake of Mists and was suddenly silenced.

***

"Being a Lord Protector is a lot like fishing."

“You got that right. If another sawfish jumps out of the water, I'll cleave that one in two. I mean also," My‑re stammered, then checked the reach of her axe next to her. Her self-appointed mentor, Corg, snorted in amusement as he adjusted his line on the fishing pole. They sat on a large outcropping of rocks, smoothed by the backsides of fishermen over the ages, a little way out in the Lake of Mists. Corg had asked her to go night fishing with him. The sun had set about an hour ago. It wasn't safe nowadays to go fishing alone at night with something stirring up the creatures in the lake. She assumed he just wanted a safety buddy. However, she realized this would be a lesson trip, not the actual fishing kind.

"You don't always need to carry that axe with you," Corg said, pointing with his chin.

"You weren't complaining a bit ago when that sawfish leaped out of the water at us. You can thank me the next time you use all your fingers to wipe your arse."

Corg cut her off. "That's not the point."

"What's the point then?" My‑re snapped.

Corg shook his head. "I don't understand where this anger is coming from."

"Not anger, frustration."

"Now, we are getting somewhere."

"I'm getting nowhere," My‑re said, setting her pole down.

"What do you mean?" Corg asked.

"Being a Lord Protector is not what I expected. All I do is work at the Broken Sword tavern. I'm just the help," My‑re sighed.

"So, you thought it'd all be some endless and grand adventure of winning Blood Games tournaments, battling undead, closing Chaos Gates, and rescuing a fair damsel in distress from some tall black tower that was actually a monster?" Corg winked.

My‑re smirked in acknowledgment.

"No, on any given day, a Lord Protector's duties entail rigorous training on the Isle of the Eye," Corg explained.

"Again, I'm doing all that and honing my skills in the arena. Still, all I do is serve," My‑re replied.

"To be a Lord Protector is to serve," Corg retorted.

Silence settled between the two.

"I miss my adopted family," My‑re said after some time had passed.

“In the Rirorni Empire?" Corg questioned.

"They don’t know I’m alive and survived the Blood Games."

"I can send an envoy," Corg proposed.

"I need to see them, but I’m banished and would be executed if I was caught. Still, if I went with a caravan and stayed away from their capital of Rithakhar, I should be fine," My‑re replied.

"Leave the Isle of the Eye in the middle of your training?" Corg asked.

More silence followed.

Corg said, "Give your training another two years."

"Two years?"

"Yes."

"How about I leave now?" My‑re responded.

"One year. A fair compromise. That'll also give you time to save for your trip," Corg nodded in his answer.

My‑re thought she could do anything for another year, including working for General Pol at the bar. Besides, Corg was right. She'd have a reason and a goal to save her coin to purchase supplies for the trip back to Sanaras. She'd also train up a bit, which could be helpful when traveling on the various trade routes.

"One year, Corg."

"You won't regret it."

"Don't make me."

They both then heard a splash. The lake's mist obscured the source. Corg pressed his finger to his lips.

My‑re reached and wrapped her hands around the shaft of her axe. A dim light peeked its way through the fog. "It's a boat," My‑re said, relaxing her grip.

"It could be a lurker lure," Corg replied. "They are enormous fish with a light on the end of an appendage used to attract prey. They are large enough to swallow a person whole but don't usually travel this close to shore. Be warned."

The light grew brighter and headed in their direction. "Maybe we should leave?" My‑re asked.

"It's coming. It'll sense our movements. Be ready. I'm glad you brought your axe," Corg whispered and nodded.

A small craft came into view with a lone figure. As it drew closer, My‑re saw an orc with a heavy bone structure, a longer and heavier jaw, and pronounced canines. He had dark skin, black hair, and eyes, and he looked wet.

"Spymaster Edward, it's a little dangerous to be boating on the lake. An errand from Lady Greywand?" Corg asked.

“If you want to catch a fish, you must be prepared to get wet,” Edward snorted at his damp attire. "Yes, all work Sheila assigns to Timshard is given to me. Thus, my work is never done. I wasn't expecting two Lord Protectors out this late."

"Fishing." Corg shrugged his shoulders.

My‑re said, "Spymaster, something's been stirring up the creatures of late. Earlier, a sawfish jumped-"

Edward interrupted her and pulled at his drenched clothing. "Yes, I am well aware of what is occurring in the Lake of Mists. Thank you for the obvious." He then continued to row to shore. He turned back and said loud enough for them to hear, “There’s a fine line between fishing and standing on the shore like a pair of idiots.”

My‑re and Corg looked at each other, and she said under her breath, "Rude."