Chapter Text
He’d heard tell of the fish that danced through flames in the waterfall, a species unknown to him all his life until now. A remarkable specimen like this more than merited disrupting his conventional routine to investigate, and attempt to catch. As he’d trudged up this morning, the vision of casting his line back and throwing it into the falls themselves, for the faint chance of catching a new piece of his Oneness filled his whole being with a glow, creating flutters in his chest that his rational side knew couldn’t be a heartbeat.
When he at last cast his line back, a brief moment of confusion filled this perfect moment, the perception of a twinkling sound far behind him. Perhaps that caused the large backwards swing, losing control of his strength in a rare moment of broken meditation. As he stood back from the waterfall, within the caves and on the ledge that behind him led to the Phoenix statue, his line arced towards the mysterious artifact, snagging halfway on the dazed and confused human, and in a flick of his powerful wrist, launching them into the air.
Einar felt the breeze push the brim of his straw hat down, and craned his head enough to blink at the human, flying over his head, screaming at the top of their lungs as they catapulted towards the waterfall ahead.
“Hm. This seems an unideal predicament.” He mused to himself, as the still-hooked human flew forwards, his eyes widening as he realised where they headed. He ran forwards, in as much as his body allowed for fast movement, but realised all too late that as he moved forward with the rod, his new friend no doubt risked a greater fall. Grasping the middle of the rod so tight it splintered, Einar caught the line between his large metal fingers the second it grew tort. That sensation, of course not a heart, yet given to act like one, thumped in his chest like Sifuu pounding at her anvil in the late hours, slow but heavy, foreboding thumps.
“Are you still conscious?” He called over towards the ledge.
“What…?” A muffled cry came back. To his relief the sound came from barely across the ledge. Of course, his limited knowledge of these new humans held their hearing to be the same as their predecessors, so the roar of the waterfall no doubt drowned him out. He remembered in the past being told such an observation counted as a concepts called irony and metaphor, but had never managed to make sense of either. His thoughts drifted back to the human, memory kicking in that humans did not find the act of dangling, nor submersion in freezing waters pleasurable.
With slow care, Einar winched in his catch, one hand over the other to turn his whole body into a makeshift rod. Soon, the top of a sodden head appeared within view, followed by the jacket his line so expertly hooked. They appeared androgynous, perhaps five feet if that, and sodden through as the human managed to scramble onto the rocks, coughing, and then looking up in his direction. For a bare moment they appeared to lurch, as if to dive back into the waterfall once more.
“You are wet. I will assist you.”
“W-what the, what the hell is going on??”
“You became ensnared in my fishing hook, and catapulted at considerable speed into a waterfall. Have you sustained injury?”
“H-hey!” The human pulled back as he reached to inspect. Einar considered this. Yes, human anatomy was at the best of times a vague side interest, and the human would benefit from a proper medical examination. He pondered their anatomy, a rounded face, rounded shape in general, not unlike Hekla, if more fleshy. They gazed up at him with round wet eyes, not unlike a seal. Einar had never caught a seal before, but the old pictures he’d seen on his bookshelf always filled him with wonder at the prospect.
“P-pleas, please don’t hurt me…”
Einar felt that beating in his chest, only much slower, heavy like the leaden sensation whenever he suffered extreme fatigue from over exertion, only localised within his chest cavity.
“I mean you no harm. I have some items of clothing that may be of assistance in my cave.”
“Y-your cave?” The human stared at him, an expression Einar felt would be hard to decipher if he could discern human emotion with ease. He tried to search his fish expressions, and saw a Guppy, one of many Gils, held in his hand, as the fish appeared to realise he meant no harm, and began to cease its death-flails. This lessened the extreme power drain in Einar’s chest.
“Follow me.” Einar said, and as he began to walk, the human followed in tow. At first, Einar thought he’d managed to make a positive impression after all, that the human chose to trust him. The noises of disquiet and struggles, coupled with how they travelled along on their back, squirming, did not appear to match the walking patterns of the humans he’d known in the past. He soon realised the culprit, the hook still in the human’s jacket. When he reached down to help the human, they fought at first, then allowed him to remove the offending hook.
Einar gazed down at the rod. The last gift he’d ever received in that bygone era. He remembered the tears in the gifter’s eyes, as they placed it into his hands, and told him never to lose sight of his Oneness. That chest malfunction began again, and though the rod appeared beyond repair, he could not seem to make his hand release the splintered remains and line. So instead he chose to carry them, as he guided the sopping wet human back to his cave across town.
“I believe it is customary for us to exchange identification information. My name is Einar. Do you have a name?”
“A…Abi…”
“A bee? Hm." He pondered this new information, picturing as he'd watch Auni running in the fields behind him as he stood on the docks. "My Oneness for fishing has never branched into bugs collection. But that is of no consequence.”
The human opened their mouth flap, then after a few moments, closed it once more. The conversation appeared to have ended, so they walked in silence, Einar, and his new friend, Bee.”