Deacon, a missionary for the eponymous Holy River Covenant, has had limited success in showing people the way of Tlalocoatl. In this tale, we'll follow him as he tries to understand his God, as well as what it means to have his faith tested
art by: Groove11211
Chapter I
Charlottesburg, the exquisite town of summer's pleasures, was particularly vibrant today. Not a cloud was in the air as people enjoyed the waves with a laugh and a smile. For Deacon, those laughs and smiles happened at his expense.
"Yeah right," exclaimed an incredulous dolphin. "Just praise a bit of water and some Magic happens…Good one, dumbass!"
The bikini-clad dolphin and her lady friend dolphin had a good laugh as they left Deacon alone. Responses like that are not uncommon when preaching of a God previously lost to time. When saying that 'A River God that promotes fertility and fellowship also wants you to give up on vices like smoking and booze', even the straight-edged priest himself could understand how Herculean a task that is. Even with the revelation, Deacon felt it much harder to smile away the frustration today. His whole life was being taught from the the teachings of The Holy River, and in the two years of being a true priest he can count the number of people he's convinced on one hand. The reality of it all put the snake down on a bench to mull over his lack of success.
"The Temple is about a thousand people," Deacon spoke to himself wistfully. "Father was able to pull in so many people to The Holy River…Can I do what he did?" The answer did not come. Deacon's Father, known to others only as 'The Bishop', is the aptly named leader of the Holy River Covenant. He too was a sea serpent, but his size, strength, and intimidating presence usually gave him the moniker of 'sea monster' instead. Deacon looked up to his father for his leadership and compassion, but now that he's doing things on his own he began to wonder how he was able to give so much to an uncaring world. As much as he'd wish to ask, Deacon also knew that his Father valued his privacy. The amount of visible scars he's seen over the years was enough to give Bishop his proper space.
A sigh of exasperation escapes the aquatic snake. His eyes follow the people of Charlottesburg who walk by him without passing him a glance. They convened, they laughed, they seduced…life went on for them even without the word of the Holy River. Their blissful existence made Deacon wonder if they even needed its blessing. The thought of such lingered for a second before Deacon decided it was time to leave; better to walk away than to spiral into darker thoughts. As luck would have it, the day would prove to other plans for Deacon.
"Hey there. You okay?"
The pious snake paused as he heard that pillowy soft voice. He turned around and saw the owner of a voice: a feline fellow with a feminine gait. Judging by the red vest over his midriff baring shirt, and the apron over his above-knee shorts, Deacon had to guess that this attractive tabby cat was a worker at one of the boardwalk shops.
"Uh, yes, I'm fine," Deacon answered, adjusting his glasses. "May I help you?"
"Name's Connor! I saw you talkin' all day, and you seemed kinda down. I talked it over with my boss and he said I could bring ya over for a snack!"
Deacon 's eyes widened at the sudden act of kindness.
"You'd do that…?"
"Yeah, man! You get to have a pick-me-up, we get a new customer (please!), and I get to see a cutie up close!"
Connor's wide, sharp-toothed grin disarmed the incredulous young priest. Something about an adorable little guy being honest about his hustle was something you had to respect. The added consideration of being handsome enough to solicit was the final nail into his decision.
"Hehe... Well, you've twisted my arm, Connor! I'll take you up on that." Smiling warmly, the snake stood up, looking down at the cat who appeared to be VERY appreciative of being small at this moment. The sound of purring followed Connor as he excitedly sprinted to one of the shops - a diner called Sharon's. The tabby boy waves a hand toward Deacon to beckon him over.
Deacon, as he took hold of a clay gourd that held Holy River water, made easy strides toward the diner, his tail swaying with every step. The prospect of a more sexual relation just for being a customer was slightly odd, but the reptilian priest had figured this was another quirk of Charlottesburg. This coastal city is well known for its beaches, condos, and local foods, but it's less advertised boons was its stance on prostitution. To say it is legal is an understatement - only a moment of inspection could show you how sex could be sold in almost any business present in this city. Mayor Sha'Nice Goldtail boasts that this city is all about free love, but as Deacon had just witnessed, she is quite happy about the easy tourist attractions. Still, seeing as how all it took was a cute little cat boy to follow the scent of burgers, pizza, and seafood, Deacon could not deny its effectiveness.
A bell rang gently as Deacon stepped inside. The interior of Sharon's diner. Interestingly, there were only a few people inside, with Connor nowhere to be seen. Looking at the counter, he found a heftier, larger cat walking about with a plate of eggs. She did not seem to be expecting him, which was odd considering how excited Connor was.
"...Uh, Hello!" Deacon stated awkwardly to the glaring feline woman. "I was told you were going to offer me refreshments..?"
"I've got something for ya."
That voice did not come from the Maine Coon. Just as he turned to face that deep, baritone growl…
THWACK
Everything went black.
~ ~ ~
The throbbing of his cheek and the pain in his knees roused Deacon back into consciousness. Gone was the scent of delicious breakfast next to the cooking of fish. Gone were the sounds of merry beach goers walking on the boardwalk and playing in the sand. Now, the taste of blood, and the salty air of the sea was on his tongue. He was on his knees, and a little jerk of his shoulders made it painfully clear that his hands and tail were tied to a ship's steering wheel. Wait…a Ship's steering wheel?
"Morning, Crescent Tail."
That deep, baritone growl woke Deacon from his haze fully. Hissing in shock, he looked up to the person who said that. Said person was a Great White Shark, who was leering at Deacon with a judgmental gaze as he entered through the doorway. This man was large, with powerful arms crossed over his large frame. The top-heavy fish's footsteps thumped as he got closer to the snarling Deacon.
"W-what did you do to me?!" Hissed the angry snake. The Shark only chuckled as he squatted down to look Deacon in the eyes.
"What's it look like, Crescent Tail?" His taunt was followed by a smile, making Deacon wince as he saw that congregation of teeth. "Gettin' ahead of myself, though. My name's Rook, captain of the S.S. Luanne…" The shark got closer, growling louder as the tip of his snout was pressing on Deacon's turned cheek. "... and descendant of Captain Rowland."
When Deacon was given space once more, he tried to shake himself out of his bonds. Rook only watched with a smirk as Deacon winded himself out. Breathing heavily, Deacon's eyes shot back up at Rook with a nasty glare; Rook couldn't help but laugh at this sight.
"Hahaha! First glasses, now this? Guess Sickle Tail got soft over the years. Then again, maybe that's just a 'you' problem."
"Sickle, Crescent, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"
Rook's smile faded instantly. "Don't bullshit me. You really think I wouldn't connect the dots?!"
"What dots?! You punched and kidnapped me!!"
The Shark tensed, glaring at Deacon as if he was going to punch the shouting snake once more. Deciding against it, for now, the Shark took a seat in front of his Captive. He rose up a single finger on his webbed, scarred hand.
"Let's make this easy for ya. My Grandaddy was Captain Rowland, who sailed across the sea delivering all kinds of things. Then comes Sickle Tail…" He emphasizes by lifting his left hand, and raising his index finger like his right hand had it raised. "...And he tears up the ship and gets Grandaddy killed." Deacon's utter bafflement did not stop Rook from raising his middle finger and continuing. "My daddy went bonkers tryin' to find ol' Sickle Tail, even when he retired and was raisin' me." His ring finger on his left raised, and so did the middle finger on his right. "And now we're here: I'm a captain lookin' for Sickle Tail, and you seem to be the closest thing to him I've ever seen."
Deacon's teeth were gritted. His athletic body tensed, straining against the ropes as his efforts to escape were renewed as he leaned his body forward at Rook, who didn't even care to budge. The pain in his shoulders ebbed constantly, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins was forcing him forward.
"My Father is not the Monster you seek," hissed the seething snake. "Let me go, NOW."
Rook sighed. "...Bless your mom. Hopin' she wasn't roughed up too bad by that Sickle Tail. Heard he wasn't the nicest lover, nor was he a loyal one." He stood up, rolling his neck slowly.
"No wonder she went lookin' for God after that."
Suddenly, the air Deacon breathed felt short. The constant teachings of his Mother and Father teaching him the importance of being a good person were lost in the storm of rage coursing through the Snake. He lunged forward, hissing loudly as his jaws snapped at the Shark. Rook backed up, laughing at the snake. “I’LL SEND YOU TO GOD MYSELF!!” shouted Deacon, who’s been reduced to growling and screaming obscenities at the shark. The look of validation didn’t register to Deacon, he was far too occupied with the thought of finally freeing himself and strangling the life out of Rook’s eyes. Unfortunately, Deacon’s struggles amounted to nothing more than a swift knee to the stomach from Captain Rook. The impact stopped Deacon in his tracks as it aired out his lungs and sent him right back to the ground.
“Guess ya can’t take too much of the sea monster out of a guy, huh?” Deacon’s wheezing sadly couldn’t block out the sound of Rook’s taunts. Deacon growls as his cheeks are grabbed by rough-skinned fingers, forcing him to look at Rook’s toothy smirk. “Alright, Crescent Tail,” snarked the sharky avenger. “As far as I can tell, you yerself ain’t terrible. Your ‘Father’, however…? That I’m gonna see for myself.” He released Deacon’s face, and the captive missionary hung his head heavily. His eyes widened as he felt a hand grasp his titular tail fin. ``...and we’re gonna figure that out with this right ‘ere. Snip this part off, lay the blood in the water, and see if he takes the bait. Once Sickle Tail’s out of the picture, you’re good to go. Don’t worry, you can use th’ stump you’ll have as a story for the ladies~!” Laughter echoed in the office as Rook found his own joke hilarious.
The sounds of Rook’s footsteps took that mocking laughter with him, with the last thing Deacon heard was orders being barked at what was no doubt the shark’s crew. The door was closed, leaving Deacon alone in the dark Captain’s quarters. Without the target of his ire, the grim reality of the situation joined the throbbing pain in his stomach. His friends were off working, and by the time they realized his absence, all potential witnesses would have washed away like sand in the beach's waves. His family would raze Charlottesburg to find him, and when they do, he’d be mutilated, and they’d be attacked by this grudge-bering sea dog. The vision of Rook’s bloodied corpse flashed in Deacon’s eyes, but so did the possibility of His Father, mother, and other loved ones hurt and maimed as well by this violent assailant. With his hands tied, and body too tired to fight the reins on his arms, all he could do was fight off the intrusive thoughts swimming in his mind.
A sudden realization came to his mind. Deacon, pushing the haze of dread and fury away, had one last thing he could do. He closed his eyes to the world around him, and in the darkness of his mind, Deacon called out with his spirit to his Savior.
“Great Lord Tlalocoatl. I pray to you, asking for safety. I pray for the safety of myself, as I swear that I shall escape this prison. Should I fail, I pray for the safety of my family. Let no harm come to them for my carelessness.”
And slowly, his eyes opened, back into the world around him that sought to punish his Father through him.
“...And let it be so.”