Friend Foes and Fish-People

Fish and Dogs Don't Mix Well

 Gillion wished he had written his eulogy when he could.

He wished that he had taken his time to grab a pen and a piece of paper and write down what the people should do upon his death. Instead, he had been brash. No- Scratch that, he had been stupid. He had been stupid enough to skip dinner, training, and his thirty spare minutes of free time for an adventure on land.

Sure he had expected it to be strange, if a little dangerous, but danger was nothing. He had faced a lot of things in his life, if a grown man wouldn't scare him, no one would. After all, he was the chosen one. Gillion Tidestrider, Champion of the sea, Hero of the Deep, the god's beloved. Not to mention his first venture to the surface would be for something grand, a mission by the Elders to finally reclaim the earth above as their own. He would most definitely have an army of lesser soldiers behind him, but he wouldn't need them. He was the Ancient's priority, the one who had all their focus. Surely they would smite down anything that would hurt their beloved champion. He had the entire scene planned out in his head.

The Ancients would see him from above. They would see his pale blue skin that shimmered under the sun with dewy remnants from the ocean. They would see the clementine orange stripes running from below his sunken eyes to the lower side of his back that slowly tampered out into a dull blue tail the hung limp in the earth. And maybe if they really were looking they'd notice the small bits of minty coral poking their way out of his head. And sure, the way his scars wound around his face like briars wasn't the most attractive, but they added character. Without them. Gillion was just another citizen, but with them he was himself, he was special.

But amongst all the dew and colors, they would see their champion. They would protect him, they would give him some sort of magnificent escape. The entire thing would be a truly grand display of his power.

It turns out that he was very, very wrong.

Currently, he was being chased by a very rabid dog, and no miraculous bolt of lightning from the sky had manifested yet.

Frantically he turned unfamiliar corners, searching for any way to save his dignity. Yet, no matter where he turned, the same crumbling houses seemed to loom over him. The same clotheslines are completely barren of any remnants of cloth. The same yelling people screaming profanities he could not understand.

Each twist brought him closer to exhaustion. Each breath seemed to clog his throat further and further, making each frantic puff harder to reach.

The Elders had told him to stay away from human settlements. They had said very clearly that he should be afraid if he ever saw any humans, and yet when he had seen the strange and lively town just above the shore he couldn't restrain himself.

The tan buildings that reached the sky called to him. The marketplace beckoned him with the soft songs of chatter. And above all, the sun beamed at him with a glowing smile.

Gillion could care less about the sun right now. But his sulking would have to wait, for behind him he heard rabid snarling, and honestly, he wasn't in the mood to be mauled.

Gillion took a sharp left turn, veering his entire body weight into the wall. His shirt toe against their unforgiving cracks and misplaced stones, and a sharp sting radiated from his shoulder. Blue blood trailed down his damp flesh, a strike of neon colors on a dull cityscape.

Still reeling from the turn, Gillion crashed head on into a crate of apples, a flood of cherry red filled the street in a beautiful, if unwanted, display.

He tripped and fell, picking himself up again, only to fall once more, this time tearing a large gash on his knee. Picking himself up with a stifled gasp, Gillion let his body fall back into the rhythm of running, only to trip again, and again as blue stains slowly accumulated on the city streets.