Chapter 2: A Seed in Frozen Soil
Bass'ken Lake
Baking and fishing had more in common than most people would believe. Both needed an exceedingly high amount of care and patience, and if you mucked it up, you'd have a trial of a time trying to get back the funds you lost from buying all the items necessary to start the process. 'Twas a good thing, indeed, that her father had been on a friendly basis with Logan, and from what Patrick learned from the Fishing Guru, he did pass on to his daughter.
However, to Aislinn it seemed that she had fished so often for her meal or profit at Bass'ken Lake these past years that all the sneaky fish had learned from
her, having gone deep-down into the dark fishy depths and left her nothing but pittances to filter out. For the past few weeks her buckets had been mostly trash, which Logan would give her a few gold coins for out of the kindness of his heart, and meager guppies, which went into her evening stew. She always felt bad about it though; the poor little buggers never got much of a chance to live, but 'twas them or her, as after the first year on her own she didn't want to impose further upon Logan's generosity.
Feet dangled over the pier yet not breaking the icy water's surface, and with a free hand she wrapped her shabby, peasant cloak more tightly around her to fend off the early March chill. She gave her Basic rod a few swishes in the water, in hopes of stirring up a Blue Bass or two before sighing in resignation.
Smart little buggers. She grudgingly thought. She'd have to make these few guppies do for today. Gods willing, the wild lettuce patch at the old oak near Durem Reclamation Facility would have grown back by now... or maybe the tomato, carrot, and bean seeds that she had worked so hard to buy had finally sprouted along her shack of her house, west of the lake, where she planted them...
About to accept the paltry offering Bass'ken had to give her, and reel her line back in, there came the sudden, blessed tug of something nibbling at her bait in the mysterious fathoms below. Aislinn stilled, her grip tightening slightly, but wished not to pull yet for fear of scaring off her quarry.
Nibble, nibble, nibble... ...nibble, nibble, gnaw, nibble
Please... Gods, please take the bait...Gnaw, nibble...
SNAP.
'Twas good indeed that she'd gotten a grip, or else she would have lost her pole along with her dinner as the line shot off like a rocket to the left. This sly morsel would not be caught effortlessly, for as she tugged hard to prevent the line from breaking, the fish whipped suddenly to the right. Gritting her teeth in determination, she pulled back to the left, but less this time, hoping to steer the fish toward her middle range. Slowly, though it took all her skills, her worthy foe began to tire, thrashing in place rather than whipping side to side, and beaming ear to ear with renewed faith in her abilities she reeled her prize in.
The high noon light glittered and danced on the pattern of bluish silver scales in the shallow water, and pulling the line up, her breath caught to see that the feeble flapping fish 'twas truly a Blue Striper. She had never caught one before and the flesh on creature would easily provide the protein she needed. Feeling tremendously blessed, she cut the hook from the dying Striper, and placed him reverently in her bucket. Already she could taste Striper and Carrot stew on her lips, and thinking wistfully of how well that stew would go with her dear Da's fresh bread, she gathered up her bucket and pole.
Which was a rather pointless action, due to the profusion of gold coins lying right in front of her.
Blinking as if to shake herself from a dream, once she saw that the coins, glowing with a faint pink light, did
not vanish, she weakly dropped her rod and pail, and kneeled down next to coins, her fingers skimming feverishly over them in counting.
Holy sunbeams of Apollus... there... there must be at least a thousand of them!This thought caused her to freeze, and she drew her hand away carefully. Of course, it all made sense. Her heart had been in yearning, her thoughts invoking Their presence, and it was noon, Apollus's peak time of power. Shifting slightly, she clasped her hands together, and prayed in gratitude for the grace and luck They bestowed on her.
---
Some distance away, although invisible to mortal sight, Apollus, Lord of the Sun, had his sky-hued eyes half-closed. The Gods could not make gold shower from the sky or make gifts randomly appear everyday to Gaians, for as belief in them waned, such showy efforts to gain the Gaian's belief taxed on their metaphysical powers. But for this girl it was worth the effort, as her fierce prayers, which hummed like a nightingale's song in the back of his mind, fed and strengthened him like the Striper would strengthen her this eve. An elegant smirk touched the corners of his mouth, as he opened his eyes and stretched, feeling better than he had in weeks.
A bemused voice, full of dark mystery, hailed him from behind. "Ah, so it was
you who did that. Any particular reason why?"
He turned, his head tilted, to view his sister, Lunaris, Lady of Moon's Light, in all her black-robed glory. "Well, don't you feel better?" He inquired with mild interest. "Resurges of faith are always the best kind, I think."
Lunaris shrugged, combing her long mane of black hair, streaked with silver, over one shoulder. She was not used to coming down to Gaia during the day, but indeed, she felt stronger than she had in a long time. "If you toy enough with their emotions they will despair and their faith in us disappears." Her sharp grey eyes caught his. "This is how we are losing influence, my brother. The Mods are ever gaining power."
Apollus snorted, and frowning Lunaris continued to needle until her arrogant brother said something on the matter. "There is the First Church of the Mods now... and everyday, they receive more prayers to fix this... or to smite this villain with banning... or to help them find where they belong... "
"You think I don't know that?" He retorted, eyes flashing as he shook his head with disgust. "Mods! Bah, they're nothing but a bunch of upstart children, wretched mortals who reached too high, and were still given power and exulted."
When Gaia was young, all the Creators had needed was the Gods, to dispense luck and misfortune upon the people of the land. But many years had past, and Gaia had grown... the most worthy mortals were picked to be a human face in contrast to the immortal Gods... but slowly, belief in the Gods faltered while the Mods prospered. And belief always equaled power.
"It has been this way for a while now, my brother." She shrugged serenely. "Our glory days are gone."
"No," Apollus insisted. "Not yet." He grinned and nodded to the brown-haired girl who had finished her prayer and was gathering up the blessed boon. "That is Analise's daughter."
Intrigued, Lunaris walked to her brother's side, getting a better look at the waif. "Are you sure?"
"Who else can restore us but the only child of our most devout?" He whispered. "Let us make her our new voice to the people. Grant her powers, gifts, and she will bring them back to us. Things will be as they were, I swear it." He faced his sister, a soft halo of light radiating from him, fed from the residual force of Aislinn's belief. "Will you talk to the others, my sister?"
"...She seems too old to be a clerical prophet." Lunaris mused, as Apollus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his tan tunic. The girl was in her teens; Lunaris would have preferred a child, for children were easier to deal with. But this was their last chance. She sighed, and tugged on one of her brother's russet locks. "Very well... I suppose she'll just have to be a late bloomer."
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Portraits of Characters 
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