The Jewel of Orlegon

Chapter 8: The silver winds

When Alteria decided to leave the cabin and make her way towards the campfire set up on the beach not far away, the stars were already shining brightly in the summer sky. The silhouette of the young Enartian was outlined against the flickering flames as they danced in front of him. Confidently, he faced the beach, his back turned to the edge of the forest. Alteria attempted to approach as discreetly as possible.

"Isn't it imprudent to expose your back to potential attacks?" she remarked with an amused tone.

"It would be if I hadn't noticed you since you crossed the threshold," Nanthamo retorted in the same manner, leaning against a rock he had likely moved there.

"Am I that noisy?" Alteria asked, slightly stung.

"Your mind is," the Enartian responded, pointing at his temple. "Even if I didn't intend to scan the surroundings, your panicked thoughts would still reach me."

"Did my panicked mind warn you about this?"

Alteria sat beside the young man and placed a small wooden tray near the fire. On it rested a plate containing a few honey-roasted root vegetables, cereal mash, and a piece of fried fish. Next to it was a glass with the last drops of fruit alcohol from the evening. Nanthamo abruptly straightened up, attempting to appear less casual.

"Uh, well..." he stammered, "that's very kind of you, but it wasn't necessary. I was about to catch a fish."

"In the middle of the night?"

"It's the best time! The darkness makes them come closer to the shore with the light of the fire."

"Perhaps," the young woman replied, "but it's still more challenging to spot them at night."

"Maybe with eyes, but... there's one!"

Swiftly, Nanthamo stood up and headed towards the ocean, extending his hand. A thin stream of water rose from the sea and gradually crystallized into a slender javelin suspended in the air. Another motion of his hand and the javelin pierced the waves with a soft splashing sound. After a moment of silence, a larger wave than the others came crashing to Nanthamo's feet. He bent down to pick something from the sand before returning to the fire and placing his catch there. Under Alteria's astonished gaze, a large silvery fish was convulsing in its last throes, its flank pierced by the melting ice javelin, influenced by the heat of the flames.

Clearly pleased with his demonstration, the fisherman sat back down in front of his visitor, sporting a broad smile.

"You see," he declared, "effective even at night!"

"Can you see in the dark?" the young woman exclaimed excitedly.

"No."

"But you just speared a fish in the middle of the night!"

"Yes."

"And you did that without seeing it?"

"Yes."

"How did you do it?" Alteria pressed, beginning to tire of the new companion's playful attitude.

"I sensed its presence," he finally explained, "but not with my primary senses."

Alteria paused in her questioning and took a moment to reflect. Nanthamo had mentioned detecting her due to the "panic in her mind." However, the conclusion she was drawing seemed impossible.

"You... heard the fish's thoughts?" she tentatively asked.

"I'm not sure we can call it thoughts," he replied, letting out a laugh. "But if you want, you can put it that way."

"Can you read the thoughts of animals?" Alteria repeated, astonished.

"No, I don't read their thoughts," Nanthamo clarified with a smile. "I sense their spirits and vaguely their intentions. Fish, in particular, don't have a mind intelligent enough to have anything to read. They simply act on instinct."