by J P Nelson
The vessel was a solid three-mast caravel of eighty feet, The Randy Jim, upon which Albri had sailed many times. Hers was a solid crew led by a wizened commander, Captain Vincent James. Aside from a healthy tempest midway of their voyage, no great incident came their way. Sailing was good and trade was better, as four ports were called upon en route to the trio’s destination.
No mention of gills was made, but Albri and Teaberry kept close watch of the youth’s manner and any other physical manifestations which may appear.
Albri confided with his friend, “I wish now I had asked Logan to give him a thorough inspection, one of medical nature. But I was concerned what his experiences may have …”
“No, no. I think you did the right thing. Besides, nothing may have shown itself at that time. You said you saw nothing unusual, and you have been close to him for what is now months.”
“Yes, to be wise, however, I was not …”
“Albri …” Teaberry passed a mischievous grin, “… that same quality which makes you a pain in the ass is your greatest asset, your obsession for small details and perfection. You would have noticed.”
The two watched Jann Raul as he stayed clear of the way, but studied closely the manner a crewman was securing a line with practiced flipping of the rope. With good nature, the crewman explained his process to he who had become a favorite aboard ship.
Teaberry put a candy in his mouth, a candy flavored with that from which he claimed his name; teaberry, also referred to as wintergreen by those on the east coast. Rolling the confection in his mouth, he added, “Have you noticed the gills since?”
“Not but once. In the moment he was relishing the morning air when leaning upon the rail.”
“I don’t think he realized it, I think it was a combined result of his excitement at sight of the sea, perhaps, with the onset of puberty. I think he is older than he looks.”
Mulling the thought as a mathematician would deliberate a complex word problem, Albri asked, “You think in terms of elvin-kind, or Nakoai?”
Teaberry chuckled, “No, you are thinking too much as a scientist.” He tilted his head in consideration, “Of course you may be onto something. No, I was thinking more like a late bloomer. As if he is just small for his age. Instead of nine or ten I would guess eleven or twelve.”
Albri jiggled his eyebrows and chuckled in return, “Very well, it could be. But … I think like a scientist because …”
“… you are a scientist. Maybe you should let me raise him.”
“And peddle his wares from woman to woman across the world?”
“What is wrong with that? I don’t peddle, my wares are in constant demand.” Teaberry passed his friend a sly glance and reached the tip of his tongue to touch the end of his nose.
“Ar-g-g-gh … you disgust me.” Albri looked down and just shook his head.”
The rogue clicked his candy against his teeth and accused, “Jealousy, that’s what it is …”
“Careful my friend, your accent is slipping.”
Shifting back to a more serious tone, Teaberry added fuel for thought, “The other I knew, he was an adult,” flexing his fingers, he continued, “and he had extended webbing between fingers, and his toes were elongated with webbing there also.” He snapped his teeth at his friend, “And he had sharp teeth.”
There was no question where Teaberry knew this person from. A listener would likely have been intently curious, but the two had seen much and been places most could not comprehend; the thought of where was not even an issue.
After more thinking, Albri slapped his friend on the shoulder and determined, “Let us observe and see if we can make home without incident. Then we shall explore this further.”
Though Albri was comfortable in the mundane skills of a crewman, it was Teaberry who was the experienced sailor, and it was he who undertook teaching Jann Raul the fundamentals of work aboard ship. The young man proved to be a quick study and excelled in his schooling. By the time The Randy, Jim pulled up to Essontown of Robinto Island, Jann Raul had taken a firm grasp on the skills which would lead to a class of able-bodied seaman.
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Dover was a teenage boy with a love of fishing and piloted his own thirty-three-foot craft, the Sangora. Expert in navigating the rocky northeast shoreline of Robinto, he managed to earn his way through fishing and had even built his own dock. He was doing some maintenance to his boat when he glimpsed the Randy Jim sailing around Claver’s Horn.
She was close enough so he could just barely recognize the scientist, Albri, leaning to the rail, but the wind was blowing in such manner any attempt to yell would be futile. Setting down the tools he was carrying, Dover excitedly ran for the Telsa Learning Academy.
Although the island was of fairly good size with many resources, the shoreline made it hazardous for vessels of any significant draft to sail too close. There were but two locations where a deep-water ship could safely make port, and even those required a watchful eye and a highly skilled helmsman.
Robinto was also well off of any regular trade routes. There was exchange with the local islands, but rarely did a far ranging merchant ship come within even telescope distance of their coast. The medicinal herbs of Robinto, gaining fame as the most potent of their kind, could be obtained on Sherrils Island, a bit more than a full day’s sail to the north, easy access and on most trade routes. When the Jim made port one might have thought the whole town was there to see.
It was not the town Albri wanted to see, however, it was his bride … his bride and two precious daughters.
Oblivious to all other things, their eyes met, Albri and J’Hene. She was there, in the front, and when they came together all present heralded their reunion. The words they spoke were meant for no other to hear as they cherished the moment.
The girls were there too, as would be expected. Ka’thi was nine years old, now. Her eyes sparkling and moist as she seized her father with a grip of iron. And Teppine, five years old and somewhat shy before the man she only vaguely remembered, but heard stories of him every day. Slowly, this man kneeled down and held his hands open to her saying, “I am returned to you, to leave you never a’more.”
She came to him and he embraced her gently and leaned his forehead to hers. Warmth filled her soul and she remembered feeling safe, the soft words of his songs, and being held in the rocking chair when she had bad dreams. Teppine encircled her hands around his neck and said, “I love you papa.”
Albri lifted her up and held his family, and knew happiness no gold or gem could ever replace. Then he bent down and whispered into his beloved wife’s ear, “I need to talk with you about something.”
She lifted her face up to his and through tears of gladness replied, “You have no need … I had a dream …”
For a moment Albri was caught off guard, then he smiled with knowing, “That bastard, he finally figured how to do it … Logan ...”
J’Hene glanced to where Jann Raul awkwardly stood beside Teaberry, then she extended her hand and said, “Come, join us … we have been waiting for you.”
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Teaberry remained for a time, long enough for he, Albri, Jann Raul and sometimes J’Hene to further explore the telescope and structure high up on what was called Wessox Mountain. There was much to find including technology long forgotten, books made of material never seen by modern people and a network of tunnels leading deep into the mountain. The tunnels alone would take months, maybe years to explore. And there was writing such as they could not begin to comprehend; an interesting puzzle, as between the three adults, they thought they had seen every form of writing in the world’s history.
Teaberry also helped in trying to determine Jann Raul’s mystery.
The youth had no knowledge of the gills and became apprehensive when asked about them. Since the first time Teaberry and Albri had noticed them, they had not become manifest again; not until he submerged himself underwater and apprehensively trie
d to breathe, that is.
Jann Raul had no knowledge of ever being under water, and the first few times he tried to breathe as such were painful. His father and close friend were there, however, so he was encouraged. With practice, he learned he could breathe comfortably in salt and fresh water alike.
He did not understand exactly how it worked, but when underwater he could amplify his strength. Not increase his strength, but amplify it, and there was a difference. Albri determined he somehow manipulated the water about his body, not altogether unlike the telekinetic effects manifested by the Pyntahku mind warriors.
An expert swimmer, Teaberry taught Jann Raul everything he knew about swimming, deep diving and more. Again, by amplifying his swimming motion Jann Raul was able to swim at amazingly fast speeds. He could not simply propel himself forward as if flying, however.
Seeing and hearing underwater was also an ease. With much experimentation, Albri determined his son could go beyond hearing, he could locate both moving and stationary objects in much the same manner of dolphins and whales.
What Jann Raul could not do was speak with or communicate with underwater life. Nor was he able to manifest webbed fingers and toes. Albri said to Teaberry, “I guess that rules out blood lineage to the aquatic elves.”
After a long pause and with thoughtful look Teaberry replied, “No, not aquatic elf … but how about something else? Were there not other species? Why couldn’t there have been, or maybe still are, humans who developed amphibious abilities?”
The friends brooded on the subject without speaking. Then Albri broached as an idea, “What if he was shunted across? Or-r-r … he was part of a group or family who were shunted across. Just because we have not found it, that old manuscript said there is a portal in the bottom of the Alburin, and the sea was artificially made to hide it.”
“It’s a good point, but there was never any evidence to indicate such to be true.” The rogue touched the underside of his chin, “I know, we know, someone who probably would know …”
Albri took a look of startled disgust, “No. Definitely not. He is not to be trusted.”
“But he would know, most likely, if anyone would, it---”
“No, Teaberry, no.”
The smile was not malicious, but mischievous if even gently so, “You aren’t sounding very scientific.”
Albri stood, “It is the warrior speaking. I will have no more dealings with that murderous wet-back elf.”
“En-n-nm-m-m-eh … murderous I can see,” Teaberry stood as well, “but wet-back is kind’a cold.” Albri passed an irritated glance and his friend put his hands up in mock surrender, “Okay, okay … he does live under the water.”
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Jann Raul indulged in his studies at the Telsa Learning Academy and found a love of lore, history and maps. He also took very seriously his role as a big brother for Ka’thi and Teppine. This was made clear the day an unruly town’s bully decided to shove Ka’thi into a mud hole, not once, but twice.
It had been two years since Jann Raul had come to Robinto. During this time he had been obsessive in the study of Tai’Jhi, he had even taken to practicing under water.
No one saw him arrive on the scene, he was so quiet. But as the bully made as if to push her a third time Jann Raul caught the brawny teenager, spun him around and delivered a two-handed press which deposited said bully into the mud.
From either side came two more ruffians who gave assault. The first was met with an effortless Ward-Off technique which was followed by a clothesline move against the throat, the aggressor’s feet flying up in the air as he landed with a jarring thud upon the ground.
The second ran into a solid Palm-Press, which Jann Raul had developed into an efficient weapon and his favored technique, clearly knocking the breath out of the lad and lifting him well off of his feet.
Climbing from the mud, the original thug tried to throw a wide, lumbering roundhouse punch … but was met with a thrusting kick into his groin, followed by a spinning-crescent kick to the face, knocking him once more into the mud.
As calmly as if all were at a box-supper social, Jann Raul declared, “She … is my sister. You would do well not to touch her again.” He then took Ka’thi by the hand and escorted her home.
It wasn’t long after that Albri and household received an unsuspected visitor. A man dressed in the garb of a wilderness traveler, bow and arrows slung upon the back, cloak in place and hood upon the head knocked upon their door an hour past sun-fall.
Albri took the door and after an instant crossed his face with a smile and welcome, “Logan, come in my friend, come in.” Then, as an afterthought, he added in curiosity, “How did you get here?”
Jann Raul did not hear the answer to this question, or the tragic news brought by the dear and trusted friend. Nor did he hear why Logan would come without his High Priestly garb. But it made a difference in the home for a while to come.
Not long to stay, Logan did tarry enough to refresh himself and pass sun-fall of the second evening. While in the home, Albri requested of him a favor. Logan placed his hands upon the relaxed face of Jann Raul and with manifestation of his power, searched into the youth’s memories as well as a reading of his physiology.
There was a faint memory of deeply recessed nature; a memory of a brutal storm, the spray of salt water, violent yet muffled shattering of wood, and then the feel of sand with fresh water waving upon him. Then there was the touch of unfamiliar hands lifting him up and life in what must have been a farm somewhere.
That was it, no more other than such as he had already mentioned, including a miserable child-home followed by escape, hiding out in a merchant’s wagon for days, then his time on the streets of the Bazaar.
As to physiology, Logan found a strange mixture of human variations unlike any he knew of. The lad was a mystery, indeed.
In a manner of resolve, Logan told Albri, “I believe him to have been born about 5112 ED, by our reckoning, which would make him thirteen to fourteen years of age.” Glancing at Jann Raul, then to Albri and J’Hene with facial expression punctuating his words he added, “I do not know of a human variation like him on our world. But, I am sure he is healthy and he has a feel for his surroundings. He may not be a manifestor, but he will know weather, wind and flow of the sea.”
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Coming to know weather, wind and flow of the sea was not all for Jann Raul … he also learned to sense the movement of anything within a ten-foot diameter of his person, under water this increased by an average of sevenfold, depending on the current this could range more or less.
Albri also noticed his son could anticipate movements of sparring partners, not by much, but by enough to give him a working edge. When asked if he could explain why, the response was an honest, “I do not know, pop, I truly do not.”
After thinking long and hard on the matter, the answer was expanded upon, “I feel it strongest when I practice the Tai’Jhi. It is like seeing all around myself, but I am not really seeing as if with my eyes … I just know what is there. When I spar with my opponents, I can sort of feel what they are going to do as they move. It is not as strong as when I am in the water, but the more I practice the more I feel the sensation of the air move around me.”
Albri smiled, “Then practice, my son, practice.”
And practice he did. Every day included time with Tai’Jhi, swimming and learning all he could about sailing, the ocean and all things beneath the water’s surface.
Jann Raul’s water breathing ability was kept quiet and much swimming was done in the freshwater lake close to Wessox Mountain. But there was no secrecy to his gift for sailing and growing savvy with regard to the sea. Small craft sailing was a popular thing, as much of the native livelihood was ocean related.
There was an annual two-man race around the island with much prestige going to the winning team. Dover had offered friendship to Jann Raul upon his arrival in Essontown and the two became close mate
s, spending much time on Dover’s boat. For five years the two entered the race as a team.
The Sangora had been built by Dover and his own father with this race in mind. The two were to sail it together, but the elder took sickness before the time could come. She was a single-mast cutter with a four sided gaff mainsail, and a long bowsprit which could support two overlapping tri-sails. Her length of deck, usually called LOD, was thirty-three feet with a wheel instead of a simple tiller, and a nice cabin comfortably built to berth three for inter-isle travel.
The first race saw the pair overcome challenge after challenge, until finally they came abreast of the lead boat in the last mile of the race. Townsfolk were all along the pier in anticipation of the Madiel Brothers becoming first team ever to win a third consecutive victory.
In the one hundred seventy-six years this race had been held, only two other teams had won two races back-to-back. The last was more than eighty years before, the first over fifty years before that.
When it became clear the Sangora was pressing the Madiel’s Evertide, the sounds of the spectators could be heard all across the bay. When the Sangora crossed the finish, not even a foot ahead of the Evertide, the explosion of yells and cheers was immense.
For the next year the brothers, Mocklin and Mardon, bantered often with now twenty-year-old Dover and his constant chum, Jann Raul, in challenge of the next race. The brothers were both expert fishermen in their mid-twenties and harvesters of the Plankot Eel.
Plankot Eels were mean, nasty creatures growing up to eleven feet in length and known for their poisonous bite. It has been said if they can get their fangs past the victim’s hide, one bite could paralyze a humpback whale.
The brothers had recipes for an antitoxin used by physicians all around for a variety of poisonous bites. There were many other uses for a Plankot Eel carcass, as well, so their business was good.