Wisdom of Fishes

Swoosh...swoosh...swoosh.

The waves are smooching the skiff's bottom for the sixty-second time. The ocean is still vast, and the land is nowhere to be found. This trip has been paddling nothing but misery to the back of their boat. The three wanderers followed the ocean's will to the west, searching for an answer from the clouds. But so far, it is still far.

"Aagh! *Cough* *Cough* *Cough*!"

The cleric wakes up with a heavy cough of salt water as the librarian wills it. Sleeping with a dry mouth is foolish, but abandoning one's duty is more unwise. He brushes off his tongue with fresh water—one that remains in the wanderers' ration—before he looks down on the librarian's kindness.

"Is that seawater? What if I got a salt infection?" He brushes his face with a dry cloth. The ocean water felt off and distasteful on his skin. A water that didn't relieve anything.

"There's no such thing as salt infection. But you can get an infection from seawater's germ...or maybe cold because of the water's temperature...or dehydration...or even—" Eve chatters with a basket full of fish.

"Okay! Okay! I get it..." He pauses, looking around in dissatisfaction.

"Why are we stopping?"

Without his church, his faith falls rapidly like rain. He was once a well-known man in the town, but now he was a stranger and a pilgrim alongside the two wanderers. All that he had built vanished into a speck of dust, and he was moving on the wheel of destiny into the unknown with that very sun in him.

Luckily, the sunlight was shining above their shivering skin. The cleric bathed himself in the sun, gathering the remains of life and warmth that the town had lost once from him. Though it cannot save him from what he has lost.

"Alas, the sun is here! Feel its warmth and tell me if we should snuff it, too." Cyrus brags. However, he was but a dry fish in its presence.

"Ouch! Ouch! Hot! Hot! Hot!" Cyrus yelled, "Why is it so hot?"

"Afternoon's light."

"Well, maybe the sun gave too much blessing to me." He jumps into the fresh ocean water, bathing himself to cold.

The past is watching for the librarian and the cleric, with only a test of scorching ray in a thousand miles of ocean. Their minds still cling to reason and wisdom, but they clash as they always have. The cleric's loss soon takes the worst out of him, as he has nothing but complaints.

"Still clinging into that land, Cyrus? Perhaps you could ask the sun to break the snow for you?"

"Haha, funny. Maybe when I could gather some people to annoy first. Like you!"

"Heh, glad you're on the team, friend." Eve patted his head. That's enough talking for Cyrus.

"I'll go look for our other friend, then."

The Tin Man is a skilled captain whose ship can survive several turns in rough seas. His knowledge of the machines is fascinating—carrying the scraps to make a plank of wood float easily, and steering a machine he was unfamiliar with. Although the librarian finds it more suspicious that he is a statue among everything horrible, without a face to look back and a determination that latched onto her path of truth simultaneously.

"So, where are we going? Are we supposed to be here...?" Cyrus glances at the nothingness.

"Yep! We're heading to the right place. Though, I wonder if this thing can last for miles. Without a bigger boat, you wouldn't expect this scrap to hold you all night, right?" Charger continuously navigates the skiff to the front. Such a brave man, if only he were as motivated as the two.

"Don't we have enough oil? Or can you do your magic on this boat?" Eve teases.

The damage the skiff had sustained was too severe. The wanderers couldn't repair it in time when they retrieved the skiff, so it is understandable that this piece of wood would've broken in the middle of the sea. Without any choice, the three wanderers had to put the skiff to rest to clean off the Tophats' fiddle on the gears.

The Tin Man had to resort to manual care. Down the skiff lies an engine that should've died many years ago. Yet here, the Tin Man makes it work for ages with only a scrap. Such a thing deviates from the fate it was given, which further makes the Tin Man questionable.

The darkness under this boat was beyond his will. The cold and the dampened void of the world were a haunting gaze for him and his kind. The Tin Man always needed his lantern whenever he encountered such darkness, regardless of the size.

"Eve, hand me my lantern! I need to see if these people are messing with the gears." Charger opens a hatch below the skiff, revealing engines and compartments that move it.

"Why? The engine is just at the bottom of our feet." She replies while lying beside Cyrus, basking in the sun together.

"Well, I don't want to see in the dark! Also, you know that's my lantern..."

"Alright, but be quick! The oil in this thing is scarce. We will need them when we arrive on another town." She handed it with hesitation.

For the time being, the librarian had only a moment of serenity in the middle of the sea, with the cleric still pressed and doubtful about his new perception for the new world. The librarian has never been more content, with more to wait on the other side of her journey.

"What do you think will be out there? You think there's chance we will learn the origin of our kind?"

Cooperating on this skiff is difficult when everyone shares a different perspective. The cleric seeks false hope and leverage, while the librarian seeks to sharpen her eyes and taps ink into her paper. His goal for this world is somewhere the librarian couldn't read, for he has only the same passion again and again.

"I will not tell you. You're about to tear my world again." Cyrus mumbled.

"Aw, come on! When did I ever do that? I literally just stand still and do nothing." Eve begs.

Faith is fruitless without a record, and those who cannot record their words into a will are destined to have their temple shattered by time. For the cleric to build such a temple, he would've had to believe bigger. The truth could suggest otherwise for his quest.

"You've brought me to this." He replies.

"So you want to be left out there, friend? Maybe you can use some help..."

Their conflict had never brewed this hot before. It was where the truth stood that the librarian prevailed, breaking down all the flaws in the cleric's decision. The librarian is irrefutable, but still deniable by the cleric and the Tin Man.

"You know, this is probably a good time for me to share my first doubt."

"Has every Frayfolian always been this desperate for truth?" Cyrus replies, smirking and grunting.

Truth has been a component of a librarian's life. Sometimes it was not about guarding the secret and wisdom written in the papers that excites the purpose but the love of having them all in a shelf of your head. That's how the librarian was motivated.

"We do. It was every Frayfolian's reason. What's true is always true. How I was born there is how I survive. We don't need faith, we know it's true. Frayfoil knows that it shows." Eve grabs a paper, preparing to write about her journey.

"Faith don't last long there, my friend. Faith only halted what others trying to seek. You can't expect trust from someone who cannot prove anything but themselves."

Long ago, it would've been a dark age for the librarian. A corrupt and truth blanketed by facade and greed, leaving those unfortunate with their eyes open to suffer in Frayfoil like her. Then one day, the librarian decided to leave the town and ascended to discover the sealed eyes in Great Stone, where the cleric stood tall when they first met, hoping that life would be better than opening their eyes.

"I thought lies would've been better in this world. But it really didn't gave people much understanding. Sometimes not hearing your followers asking annoys me. How can you make a faith doubtless if you cannot expect one to ask?"

"Because having a trust is not about making a truth, Eve. It's about knowing that you didn't lose anything from it. People believe that if the fire had been shining bright, it would've been warm. And they're right! The fire always stays warm. But it's not the fire from the woods, it's in their heart that keeps them alive." Cyrus recites.

As days go by in Great Stone, the comforting lies soon turn bitter for the librarian. Those lavishing on the top of the mountain became shiftless and ignorant, often misapplying the librarian's wisdom with their exaggerated thoughts. Sometimes, it is bright, but sometimes it is dark—neither close to wisdom nor truth.

"That's how you think, priest? I'm not surprised you get here with me..."

"Maybe gathering you here would've been a great idea of showing you my works. Soon enough, you can join me."

"No chance! But I'll still visit if you need to." Cyrus resurfaces in the skiff.

"If I want to cool myself with something cold and dead, I could dunk myself in your library over and over again. Brr...but the water is cold."

Soon enough, the librarian can only trust herself as the wielder of truth. The small library contains everything she needed to keep the Great Stone filled with wisdom and facts. But for her to turn the town into such acceptance, it wasn't easy. And even now, she hasn't yet given them enough truth.

"I wish I could've gave them truth, Cyrus. I wish I could've been the one doing it instead. But I'm no prophet..." Eve mumbled.

——————————————————————————————————————————

[A few hours later]

Crack! "Alright, I'm done!"

The Tin Man reappears troubled, but his task is done. His mind is as free as the soaring winds on top of their heads, returning to the seat as he set the skiff on again. The engine tinkers below the librarian and the cleric's body, moving them into the current opposing the winds.

Somewhere, the days have passed for them. But here, the days just started. These three adults are on their own, following the destiny of the wind that has befallen them. They were destined for greatness, waiting on another hill or even a cloud.

The ocean is vast, and still, there's nothing but a wave under their skiff. Fishes jumps in and out of the surface, as if they were greeting the librarian and his friends on their journey to enlightenment. But all these fish only made them yearn for one.

"We need to catch a fish, everyone! I'm hungry!" The Tin Man stops the boat.

"Me, too! Do you have a fishing rod here, Charger? Or maybe I should make one." Cyrus's fingers are latched onto his amulet and a stick.

"No, that's too long. I don't want to wait for the fishes to eat my bait when I'm ready to eat a horse now." Eve replies.

They wanted the fish, but they did not have the tools needed. The three wanderers are debating how to get the school of fish into their skiff. However, it seems everyone is on their own, leaving the librarian alone as she comes up with her idea.

"I know I was right to make this. I just know the truth..." She mumbled.

Her fingers crafted the finest net ever, ready to be thrown into the ocean where the fish are said to resurface. Made from a few woven threads from her coat, she spared enough to make a perfect fishing tool. She'll catch more than a fish, as the wisdom says, but the two wanderers are still in doubt of her choice.

"Catch with patience, Eve. These fishes needs our trust."

"No, we only need to get them right where they are blinded."

"You two act like two Quasarian pebbles arguing over a grass! I'd rather jump and catch on my own. Don't move the skiff while I'm out!"

The three wanderers started their fishing journey altogether. The cleric threw his hook as far as he could, with a bait he made from used oil cans and pieces of minced meat which he carried from remnants of Frayfoil.

But he didn't realize that his bait was only as big as the librarian's finger, especially when he mixed the oil with water to lose the taste. He showed the fish so much gleam in the minced meat, but the size of that bait was not enough to satisfy all of them. The fish grew bored with the teasing, as they began to leave the hook empty.

"Aww, why's no one taking my bait?" He complained.

The tin man jumped into the sea, diving deep enough to find a line of fish diving beneath their boat. His small hands might be able to lift two or four fish at a time, but his thin body could not withstand the rough sea salt.

His body began to rust, adorning a colour that was not pleasing to the eye. Instead of rusting brown like iron, he rusted green with the smell of sewage. Fish would not dive near him. The tin man's will became poisonous to those who acknowledge their mere presence in the sea of the unknown.

"Aah! Aah! Buttleboo!! Why am I...augh!" Charger jumps out of the ocean.

"Eugh! Charger, you smell like a sewage! Yuck! Get off of here!" Cyrus yelled.

"I didn't know this sea contains salt! My people's skin are not accustomed to salt! Let alone we rust!" He explained.

"Good to know you're one step of acknowledgement," Eve smirked.

"Now, watch this."

The librarian throws her net into the ocean, waiting for the fish without a bait. The thin, spreading thread is too hard for the fish to see, and when they tried reaching the surface for the sunlight above, they were instead bound by an invisible string.

"Gotcha! I know it!" Eve mumbled.

Such poor creatures cannot expect the leash placed upon them, trying to swim low and away, only to be given a cold fate and restriction from that leash. The librarian didn't do anything, but she knew that where the fish desires to surface is where the greatest deception is. The net is inevitable, and so is their demise.

"W-woah, hey! Hey, what the..." Eve struggles.

Some fish are stronger than others. While the weaker become an easy feast, the strongest become the ones to break their demise. As the fish began to swim through the hole in the net, the librarian quickly took it to the surface, collecting the only treasure she had before she lost it all. In the end, she earned more than the two wanderers thanks to her fishing wisdom.

"Ugh..." Eve glances at her catch. Three fish are on the net when she has ten in her catch.

"Well, at least you catch something, friend. Believe in the works!" Charger motivates.

However, the librarian's yield is ineffective. Those thin threads still gave the fish an escape, showcasing how little effort she puts into keeping them on leash. Worse, she just sacrificed a part of her sleeve for a few fish. The truth is still weak.

"Hey, sleeveless buddies!" Cyrus taps her shoulders.

"What do you say, eh?"