Chapter 9: Fishing

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 37

Chapter 9


Next time…ask more questions.  Dragon, chains, boils.... 

Fortisa wiped tears from her cheeks and ran to the stream shimmering in the sunlight ahead.  William followed.  She slapped the cold water onto her face.  An outcropping of rocks provided a convenient place to sit and study the passing clouds. 

What am I doing?  And what am I doing here?  If I had any idea delivering that package would have involved all of this…

She removed her boots and touched her toes to the water.

 Cold!  She shivered at the shock of the temperature. 

Fortisa smiled listening to the gurgling water chase itself around the protruding rocks. 

Water soothed her.  She scooped up handfuls and let the droplets run from her palms.  The Friors often found her in younger years playing by the brook trickling through the fruit orchards. 

Catching fast turtles amused her - she, however - faster.  The Friors, usually Frior Marden would coax her to release her reluctant captives before the last ray of sunlight blinked out for the day. 

She named her favorites.  Striper, the sun turtle, with the red streaks down the neck.  And Splitter, the snapping turtle.  He broke in one chomp the stick she used to test the mud-bottom before stepping into it.  Rip, who could tear a fish off one of Fortisa’s hooks with lightning speed.

Even as an adult, Fortisa still caught turtles for sheer amusement.  However, fishing for the finned species hiding between the rocks - her contribution to living with the Friors.  Ten friors resided at the Nasterium, each with a unique function and skill vital to the survival of their class and to the farmers in Listrel. 

 Silhouettes of darting fish gripped her attention. 

Grilled fish - a welcome change from boiled gruel.  I wonder how honey would taste on them?

She stood in the water, even as her toes and feet alternatively grew numb in the frigid current.  She waited for a fish to meander towards her.  When one came within reach, she sprang to grab it.  Each time the fish successfully slipped out from between her hands.

William, however, ignored her, preferring to much on the greens surrounding the shoreline.  Her repeated attempts to snag a meal failed.  She realized the angle of the sun betrayed her presence.  No matter where she stood, she cast a shadow.  The movement of her shadow warned all the fish.

After a time, her legs felt like stumps from the numbing cold, severely restricting her agility.

You all get to live another day!  Perhaps that’s a good thing!

A pelting rain immediately drenched her and William, despite the sunshine, then ceased.  Fortisa loved sun showers.  A rainbow right now – yes, that I would love to see!

She stepped out of the brook and shook the excess water from her feet.

“We need to leave, William.”

As she secured her meager belongings, she held up the leather wrapped parcel.

Submitted: August 15, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Elise Pannon. All rights reserved.

Check out Elise Pannon's Book

Tough Loving My Heroin Addict A Lesson From the Parable of the Prodigal Son

What does a parent do, when every attempt to save the life of one's child, when that child, adult child, is an active heroin addict? The answer came from the Parable of the Prodigal Son.


  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Facebook Comments

Other Content by Elise Pannon

Book / Fantasy

Short Story / Religion and Spirituality