Classy, Controlled Chaos - The STEAM Team Adventures

🐦‍🔥 Reincarnation [6/10] 🐦‍🔥

Blackthorne's POV:

After enough chatting with River via his "cool dreams", I had successfully managed to convince him to revive me.

Well, not a true revival, but to take on a temporary form until I could reanimate my fallen corpse.

I trained him to play these special "games" with me, which were basically spells to test the extent of the Darkness which he possessed.

The magic he bestowed was ridiculously powerful; I was surprised such a tiny mortal vessel such as he was able to withstand such supernatural forces.

Little River was nice enough to find me a decent host to take over, which was a juvenile puffin.

Very small, but was capable of flying for days without stopping.

I could swim, too, which was a nice bonus.

On this particular night, I was perched on a wooden pole by his family's dock, watching him cast out his cast nets for bait.

He was learning how to fish so he could support his family financially, selling his catch on the boardwalk along with his signature candy apples.

I must admit, those apples were delicious, even for a puffin.

"I got a bunch of fishies!" River squealed excitedly, quickly hauling up his first net. "Look, Thorne! Look at them!"

I let out a squawk of approval, watching as the shiners in the nets flopped around, worthy to be bait used for fishing rods.

"Nice job!" I chirped, my usually charismatic voice raspy and bird-like. "Proud of you, River."

To keep myself low on the radar, I asked him to refer to me as Thorne from here on out.

He thought it would be short for thornberry, like the wild, blueberry-like fruits that grew in the thick spruce forests of Northwynd.

Nowadays he either calls me Thorne or Berry, but as long as no one bats an eye at it, I'll be good.

"Are these baby bass?" River asked me, curiously staring at the helpless fish flopping around on the wooden planks.

"No, they're not bass." I replied, tapping my talons against the pole I was perched on. "Bass are freshwater fish. Also, empty them in the bucket before they suffocate. Fishies can't breathe on land, like how we can't breathe in the water."

His innocent eyes widened at my last statement, grabbing an empty bucket from beside him and dumping the fish inside. "Oh no! Here, I'm super sorry, fishies!"

I lifted a feathery wing to my face, shaking my head. "They need water, little one. Here, let me help you."

Flapping over and skidding onto the dock, I seized the metal handle of the bucket in my beak, dunking it into the saltwater before tossing it back to the young merchant.

"Thank you, Thorne!" River smiled, emptying out the rest of his cast net and throwing it back into the water. "I'm kinda bad at fishing, but you make me feel like I'm super duper good at it!"

If only a puffin like me could smile back.

"Soon, you'll be the greatest fisherman alive," I chuckled, watching him dip his tiny legs into the saltwater. "Speaking of fishermen, how's your dad? I'm assuming he'll be home soon?"

The young merchant shook his head. "He's fine, but he was on a fishing trip to Baywharf before we took it under siege. Mum says he'll be back soon."

I blinked at him, tilting my feathery head to the side. "Would you like me to go search for him? I can fly south and check."

"Nah, it's okay, Thorne." He giggled, kicking his feet in the waves. "The fishies think I'm food, look!"

I waddled over to him, peering over the side of the dock.

Not to my surprise, a small school of sardines were crowded around River's feet, nipping at his toes.

It was oddly comforting to see the small child so happy.

"You sure those aren't piranhas?" I joked, flapping out my wings to cool myself off.

"Piranhas are freshwater fish, I think." The young merchant mumbled, staring into the depths of the ocean below us. "They can't survive in saltwater."

I nodded. "You're kinda right, but I think they can live in a mix of both. Y'know what that's called?"

"Brackish water." A dangerously low, husky voice answered from behind me.

I whirled around, opening my beak to intimidate the target and spreading my wings wide, shielding River with my stubby tail.

Then I realized it was a bobcat.

A talking bobcat.

"Who are you?" I growled back, my words coming out as a series of wary squawks.

"Why, your mentor." The lynx meowed, dismissively grooming her paw with her rough tongue. "Do I sound more masculine than you'd expect?"

I finally recognized Permafrost's sarcastic tone. "My goodness! You gave me quite the scare, there!"

River was cowering behind one of his cast nets, holding it above his tiny head while on the verge of tears. "Thorne, why is that big cat scaring me?"

Permafrost glanced from me to the child, her narrowed eyes dilating. "You. I've seen you before."

"I'm scared!" The young merchant wailed, squeezing his eyes shut and backing toward the edge of the dock. "Please don't hurt me!"

I realized that his foot was just about to slip off of the edge of the wooden plank he was standing on.

My mentor seemed to notice the danger as well, lowering herself into a hunting crouch.

"She won't hurt you!" I squawked at him, turning around to face him. "She's a good kitty, right?"

"Uhh, meow?" Permafrost chimed in, cocking her feline head to the side.

That did NOT help.

River let out a squeak of distress, jumping back from the last plank on the dock.

He splashed into the saltwater below, drenching my feathers and soaking my mentor as well.

Time slowed down as the bobcat bounded past me, leaping into the ocean.

"He can't swim!" She cried, thrashing in the water. "Neither can I!"

A sense of dread dropped into my chest as I saw Permafrost dive beneath the surface, clawing her way through the waves toward the young merchant.

If I didn't find a way to help them, they could both drown.