Written by Healery, Soulguider.
The Fisher-Thoom's Tale
A pleasant summer's day; a fishing trip.
A pensive Thoom, the tiller in his grip.
His uncle and his sister at the lines
When one goes taut and points at distant spines.
"It's a Tho'Lin!" his sister cries with glee,
And rushes to retrieve it from the sea.
"Another fish," thinks Tamarin, and sighs,
A far-off look reflected in his eyes.
The winds and seas care little for one Thoom
Who'd rather be off reading in some room
Than fishing, yet again, as oft before.
A sudden gust, a mind not on its chore --
The boom comes 'round and knocks him to the waves.
The boat o'erturns. His skillful uncle saves
The family's catch; his sister grabs the mast;
But he himself, not thinking very fast,
Half-conscious, reaches for a passing line --
The one on the Tho'Lin. He chokes on brine.
Before they even recognize his plight,
The mighty fish has towed him out of sight.
Of sister, uncle, village, fish, and past,
This bookish Thoom for years has seen the last.
A gentle healer greets him as he wakes;
He seems at last recovered, though he makes
An effort to recall his past, and fails.
(Too bad he couldn't read the Puddl'by Tales.)
Four weeks ago, he learns, he washed ashore,
Disheveled, soaked, his every muscle sore.
His tattered robe hung on a half-starved frame,
His mind awash in waves of grief and shame.
The body's ills are easier to heal
Than guilty conscience put on even keel.
Still half in shock, he sets forth into town;
He walks on land now, but his sorrows drown.
The tavern-keepers grow to know him well,
As do the healers, answering his yell
When, drunk again, he trips and cannot rise,
And rats and vermine swarm him where he lies.
He cares for little else but wine and beer,
Lost in his sea of pain. Full half a year
He spends in mud and sorrow wallowing,
Until one chilly day in early spring
He chances to be sitting in the inn
That Kandrus keeps, still grieving for his kin.
"Good Thoom," that lightsome scholar says, "I think
"You feel you lost your past life in the drink.
"But now you risk your future there as well.
"I don't know why you grieve, but I can tell
"That what you're seeking won't be found in here."
Then Kandrus clears away the mugs of beer,
Smiles enigmatically, and turns away.
But as he leaves, the Thoom can hear him say,
"If I were you, I'd go see Hekus soon.
"Your spirit may find solace in the Moon."
Then Tamarin looks up, through his despair,
And comes to a decision, then and there.
He visits Hekus early the next morn
And of that visit new resolve is born.
Still hoping to recover all he's lost,
He searches on, no matter what the cost,
But now he also essays to repay
In kind all kindness shown, as best he may.