Cheryl and the Abyss

The sky is as clear as any fisher could ask for and so, many vessels have departed in hopes of a big catch. The sea is fraught with all sorts of magickal nets and enchanted harpoons. Off the co-
“HEY! Watch it!” Cheryl shouts after nearly being capsized by a large fishing vessel. Its ethereal water propellers don’t stop for a second as it speeds off, leaving Cheryl with a sigh full of brine in its wake. “Pricks.”
Ah yes, Cheryl. The mundane elf. So remarkably un-magickal she sits on her dingy skiff; it’s likely the vessel didn’t even notice her. In truth, it’s not that she was without magick. Everyone on the planet of Zidiri has some level of magick. In fact, elves are especially renowned for their contributions to magickal development, but Cheryl comes from a long line of notoriously bad magicians. Really bad. She’s given up learning magick, especially after the shelf incident with her girlfriend, Melissa.
Cheryl ties her bright marigold hair up before continuing her voyage. Eventually, Cheryl settles at a nice quiet location and takes stock of her equipment once more: a few simple worn-out rods and her only-slightly rusty spear. She begins to prepare the rods, but she pauses looking at her one good rod. She’s forgotten to respool it, and she doesn't have enough line for it. Cheryl’s much too far out to go back and buy a new line, not that she could really afford it. She chokes the hopeless bait rod, gripping it tight above her head, and contemplates throwing it overboard, but resigns herself and continues to set up the other two: a bait and a lure rod.
After many hours, all she had managed to catch were a couple bass. Just another failed trip. There’s a myth that keeps Cheryl awake at night. They say fish prefer magickal bait over mundane worms. All Cheryl can do is stare at the squigglers in her hands, already anticipating them in her nightmare tonight and the disappointment that’s sure to be on Melissa’s face when she returns from guard duty. She’s about ready to sail back when she sees a mass of seaweed zooming across the surface of the waters. Cheryl squints and sees two other heaps trailing close behind it. The first clump snaps to its left, bolting towards Cheryl and her boat. Hurriedly, she grabs her oars and tries to move out of the way, but a loud thump sets her on her back. From the corner of her eye, she sees a slender stick in the air.
“MY ROD!” she exclaims as the pole is knocked overboard and the thing of seaweed plops onboard. “M-monster!”
The ‘monster’ commands, “ONWARDS!” Seeing the other two close in, Cheryl doesn’t question it and starts rowing. “What are you doing? Go faster!”
“I’m trying here!” Cheryl says between breaths.
The monster groans and casts a spell as the gleaming yellow tattoos on her arm lights up. The skiff accelerates in the direction of the port with speed that causes the boards of the boat to pry under the pressure.
“H-hey! Slow down, you– you're a triton!” Cheryl realizes, perplexed by mossy green hair and the pale blue lily scales covered in ragged drapes.
“Yes yes, this is not going to hold to the coast!” the triton says.
“Then stop this thing!” Cheryl says as she tries to push the triton over.
“Stop it!”
“Do you even, ugh, realize how important this boat is to me?”
“This pile of driftwood?”
“MY pile of driftwood!”
“Well–”
“EYES FORWARD!” Cheryl shouts, and a rock that just barely breaks the sea surface tears into the hull. More of Cheryl’s gear begins flying into the coral blue. In another flash of yellow light, the boat is lifted into the air. For a moment, the two give each other a look. The triton’s golden reptile-like eyes peer into Cheryl’s limed ash stare.
“My ship…” Cheryl sighs, picking up what’s left of her equipment. A broken rod in her hands and the lineless pole at her feet. “Shit. This is it. It’s over. That’s all that’s left?” Cheryl flops onto the sparse broken up sole of the skiff.
The triton fidgets awkwardly and reaches out saying, “Hey…”
“Fuck off. Drop the boat, who cares.”
Finally realizing the full extent of the damage, the triton holds firm. “Listen, I shall take us to the port and surely I will be able to work something out, miss…” Cheryl remains silent with her head now buried in her arms. “Okay… My name is Abby. Abigail Abyss and I am–”
CRACKS echo over the waves causing them both to scream as chips of wood get sent flying from tridents breaking what’s left of the stern off.
“No!” Abigail yells, seeing that the two tritons from earlier have caught up with them. She casts another spell and calls forth a torrent to ferry the skeletal remains of the skiff’s bow. They speed forward, dodging more incoming attacks. After several knots, Cheryl and Abigail manage to finally shake off the pursuers. Relieved, Abigail pilots the ship silently to the dock.
•
“Alright, Abigail, I’ll fucking bite. Who the hell are you?” Cheryl says as she circles the beached wreck on the port. It’s gotten late and many other ships have begun to dock.
“As I was trying to say earlier, I am Abby, Abigail Abyss.”
“You’ve said that already. I mean why were you being chased?”
Abigail squints and continues, “I am an heiress to the king, Clementia Abyss; I am granddaughter to the valiant and virtuous Cuento Abyss who, throu–”
“Alright Princess, get on with it. I don’t need your life story. And what’re you gonna to do about my boat?”
“How ill-mannered! Worry not Miss, ah. Pardon?”
“Cheryl,” she states, eyes scrolling the sky.
“WORRY NOT, Cheryl! You will be compensated,” she says, placing both hands on her hips then holding the pose, as if waiting for a cue.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
“Aie, about that. I may not have any coin on me right now BUT! Before you overreact, you are in luck. From today onwards, my grand adventure begins! Now, I am not doing this for the riches, but naturally they shall start rolling in.”
To this, Cheryl chokes the remains of an oar and simply runs up swinging.
“Ah! Ahah, a test of skill? Quite the masterful dodge, no?”
“Ugh, how am I gonna explain this to Melissa,” Cheryl grumbles. She drops the oar and raises her voice, “Listen kid, this isn’t make-believe. You can go off and be a pretend hero, I don’t care! We adults have real problems to deal with, namely living.”
“W-wh– I-I just want to help people like my grandpa!”
“Look around, what have you done to help!” Cheryl stomps, arms wide. People around begin circling when Abigail starts to sniffle. The dock soon becomes a wave of murmurs.
“Shhhh, hey, hey,” Cheryl coos. “Kid, I’m sorry I lost my cool.” Her attempts at comfort do nothing and Abigail begins to burst. “Crap. Abby, can I call you Abby? Come on, just. Follow me.” She grabs Abby’s hand and scurries off in-between a gap in the crowd.
•
The silence is broken up with the occasional meep of sniveling upon entering a sparse forest not far off from the port. Cheryl rests her shoulder on a big tree, leaning and taking a deep sigh. Abby is sat not to far off, picking at the poppy flowers that sprawl the grassy floor.
“So uh, Abby. Sorry I interrupted, who were those two out at sea?”
Wiping her nose, Abby responds, “I was running from home, from my papa.”
“Off to do good, like your grandad?”
“Yeah. Exactly like him. I want to bring pride back to my people. Everything, everyone’s so passive. My grandpa, Tata Cuento. He had his feet on the ground, getting his hands dirty. He was on the frontlines. You know about the Nuevida ceasefire, right?”
“Between the harpies and tritons? Of course.”
“That was thanks to Tata Cuento,” Abby says with a watery smile. She wipes her face and asks, “What about you?”
“Huh, me?”
“What were you doing? I– I’m sorry about your boat.”
Cheryl nods once, eyes closed, then bounces off the tree. “Ah, fuck it. Wasn’t doing me good anyway. I was out there fishing.”
“On that thing, alone?!” she says mouth wide. “Wait, in Pulcampo waters? You know that is illegal, correct?”
“Ah. Did I go out that far? So that’s why it was so quiet, go figure.” Cheryl lets out a dry grunt, bordering a chuckle.
Abby shakes her head, saying, “You are crazy. And your gear, they were all mundane.”
“We don’t really jive, me and magic. I’ve tried, really, but well.” Cheryl crouches over the ground, drawing circles in the grass. “Suppose I’ve been pretty passive myself.”
Abby raises both her arms forward with her palms up, examining her golden markings. Her vision goes dark, she steadies her breath, and she approaches Cheryl whose eyes are still fixed on the ground. Silently, she grabs Cheryl’s right hand with her left.
“Hey, what’re you–”
Abby, with her other hand, places a finger over Cheryl’s lips. “I’m doing something good, for a change,” she says with a chuckle.
Pain pumps through Abby’s left arm as she feels herself losing something. Something that she will never get back, a memory of Tata Cuento. In a flash of blinding light, Cheryl loses consciousness.
•
“CEASE! Unhand me! Do you two even realize who I am?”
Cheryl awakes to the unmistakably shrill voice calling out. “H-huh? Abby. Abby! HEY!” She sees the two tritons from earlier taking her away on a tide of water. “Let her go!” she screams and then gasps. On her outstretched arm, she notices golden tattoos on it, they’re Abby’s yet they look as if they were always there, almost carved into her.
“Cheryl– Ack, stop! Cast something, anything!” Abby pleads.
“I can’t! I-I– Without a catalyst? No, I…” She grimaces as Abby’s frame shrinks and shrinks. Anything. Her eyelids clench shut and an acute pain is felt in her left arm. The tattoos light up and in a flash, a burst of flame engulfs the surrounding trees. The inferno roars uncontrollably. Ashes quickly blot the sun. Cheryl starts heaving sporadically. Her vision falters, but in the distance, she can barely make out splashes of water coming from the other two tritons. Abby’s silhouette grows bigger.
“Cheryl!”
“Abby? Are you–” She coughs. “Your arm–” she attempts to say. “The tritons.”
“Shhh, come on! Now’s not the time, let’s go before they put those fires out.”
The two make it to town and slow down, feeling safer in a crowd. Cheryl begins leading Abby to her place for the night.
“Shit, Melissa is NOT gonna believe the day I just had,” Cheryl says as she grabs her arm. “So this is how you were casting magick without a catalyst.”
“Yes! It does greatly reduce the cost of spells and amplifies the output.”
“Mmnhh, well suppose it’s half as effective now? Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Consider it payment for the boat,” Abby winks. “Now we are square, as they say.”
“And what, you’re to set off tomorrow morning on your adventures?” she asks Abby who nods in response. Cheryl stands in place for a moment then raises her runic arm high. She makes a gesture of grabbing the moon. “Nuh uh, I’m not letting you go alone.”
“Huh?”
“I’m coming with! Someone’s gonna teach you about how act on the surface you little freak,” Cheryl says roughing up Abby’s hair.
“C-cease! Agh, you know you are free to do with the arm what you wish right?”
“I know,” she says with a grin.
“What about Melissa?”
“I wouldn’t worry. She’s a lot fuzzier than me, I don’t deserve her.”
Abby smiles back and her eyes light up. “A party! Is this a party? What do we call ourselves?”
“Dunno, but my name better be in it.”
“Why do you-”
“Ah! There you are. Miss White, yes? A letter for you,” a city guard interrupts.
“Oh, thanks,” Cheryl says. She opens the letter immediately and her expression drops. Ashes fly into the cold night air as the envelope is gently set ablaze, a spark of adventure to come for the unlikely duo.