Citizen 965 Edmar

Edmar Bridlewood, an exemplary rex from ordinary origins. Like many, his parents had come from the Dome to settle the Posian Isles. They did not rise in the ranks nor did they forfeit themselves to humble beginnings in the outskirts of the Posian towns. Something that they did keep, and that many did, is the coming of age ceremony to mark a rexal’s maturity into adulthood. Much like within the Dome, some choose to celebrate it, some choose to reflect the time that has passed, while others choose to let the moment to mark their 30 years pass them by.

This is what happened to Edmar. He had fallen into seafaring pretty easily as a way to become independent from his family. Time seemed to pass like water in cupped hands when out at sea, with the seasons noted with a wind of gradual change. It was not until he had accepted to do an errand for a fishmonger that he realized… He had never marked his coming of age with the classic challenge of swimming between the isles. As an adolescent he always thought that some day, some rex would contest him about swimming across, or to goad an intimidating walrus. He had daydreamed about showing them up, proving to them how great of a swimmer he can be, how brave he was. Present day, the thought seemed silly. Countless rex swim across demonstrating to their peers their skill, and strength. He wouldn’t have been special.

The fishmonger’s sailboat had drifted to the neighbouring island, 

“I don’t have the coin nor the swimming aptitude to recover my ship myself lad,” He had said. “Please won’t you fetch my boat? You’re a strong strapping armoured seafarer aren’t you? You’ve got that youthful energy still in you.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed by the old rex tugging at his arm, he had looked at his mates and excused himself from his duties in order to help this old fisher rex. Now he stood at the edge of the beach, hesitating to engulf himself in what may be the trial of his life. The cold water lapped at his paws, making his scales stand on end with shivers. It was a terrible time of year to do this. A seagull cawed, the water rushed to and fro, his heart beat almost wanted to follow the rhythm of the ocean, but his anxiety prevented him. He couldn’t keep standing there.

It was time.

Water Rushing. Cold embracing. Pressure building. The current immediately attacked him, pushing Edmar away from course. Threatening to send him into the open ocean. He paddled with his arms and legs, straining to keep straight. Perhaps swimming deeper to avoid the violent folds would be wise, he thought. But even down below the current was strong. His only choice was going to be to fight through. Although it was easier to navigate deeper in the strait, he could feel his muscles become tired in a near instant. Looking up, to the rocky incline of the beach in front… He had a long way to go. He was already in this far, he had to finish. His apertures soon began to scream with the pain as he kept going. It’s as if the salt of the sea was singeing at his flesh. The undertows menacing to pull him asunder directly into a rock.

‘Please, please, please dear Ancients. Let me survive. Let me live. I have to, I have to,’ He pleaded. 

Never once having prayed to Ancients before in his life. He believed in the sentience of the fog more than the existence of the Ancients. His heart felt like it could come right out of his chest at any moment. He had no idea how long it had been, but he knew it hadn’t been enough for him to be out of breath and yet he was. All this for an old man. All this to prove he was a grown up. All this to prove that he was the bravest and the strongest and the most charitable in all his crew.

He went up for air, choking and hacking like a new born pup. The sea dragging him into the crags of unseen rock. Despite his scales, he could feel them digging into his side as the ocean shoved him in as if in vengeance. A revenge for the sea to revel in, delighted to see another foolish rex who dare challenge her. His claws becoming blunt against the stone, he held onto those rocks with his dear life. The waves seemed so calm crashing against him, bashing him with unexpected force.

‘Please…’ He cried to himself. Not uttering a word because he knew no one would hear. Looking up, the clouded sky offered no solace. Up ahead, the humble sailboat’s hull faced the channel as it lay fallen over.

‘I am so close.’

Breathing in a second-wind, he delved back into the current. Going left and right, up and down. He preserved amidst the temptation of defeat, and the sweet embrace of a watery grave. To call upon patience and determination he began to count:

‘One, two, buckle my shoe;

Three, four, knock at the door;

Five, six, pick up sticks;

Seven, eight, lay them straight;

Nine, ten, a big fat hen;

Eleven, twelve, dig and delve;

Thirteen, fourteen, maids a-courting;

Fifteen, sixteen, maids in the kitchen;

Seventeen, eighteen, maids in waiting;

Nineteen, twenty, my plate's empty.’

It was silly, but it worked. He had arrived. Dragging his way up the beach as if escaping a bloody battle, he let himself lay on the cold rocky beach that felt oddly warm on his body. He took in deep breaths. A seagull cawed, the water flowed to and fro, and his heart seemed to match that beat.

“Good god, at least I can sail this boat back to town,” He said aloud, happy to hear that he was in fact alive. 

Only worried for a moment that perhaps what had dragged itself up on the beach was not his body but rather his poltergeist. But no, he was alive. Setting the sailboat right side up, he took his time returning. For he was so so so tired.

‘I guess I’m a full grown rex now… Not that I wasn’t before.’ He thought to himself. As he sailed, he passed a small herd of walruses.

‘Thank the Ancients I didn’t encounter any sea life out there.’ 

An alternate reality flashed before his eyes where a shark gnawed at his tail while a walrus skewered his neck. He trembled. It wasn’t any time soon that he was going to challenge the blessed sea again. Though… Perhaps next time he passes a temple to the Ancients he should leave an offering for his good fortune…

Returning to port, the old rex embraced him tightly.

“Oh why THANK YOU LAD,” he bellowed. “Oh you’re such a good chap you are!” He shook Edmar’s hand furiously.

 “Well I’ll be off now,” The fishmonger scurried onto his sailboat and set himself off to sea quicker than Edmar had arrived.

He figured that the fisher rex would have no coin, but damn not even a fish for his troubles? Whatever, he was going to reward himself at the tavern with a whiskey to warm himself up. As he paced along the cobblestone road he chuckled at the fact that nobody knew about his achievement. He supposed that the praise from the fisher rex had to be enough. He felt satisfied with himself too. Music from the tavern hummed through the wooden door. He stood a few yards away. Letting himself intake the warm light coming through the windows. He hesitated to enter in, perhaps too tired to engulf himself in the rowdiness of the tavern. The smell of steaming hot food sent shivers through his scales. A rexal laughed, the firelight flickered to and fro, his heart felt too slow to keep the pace of the song within. He couldn’t keep standing there.

It was time.

By Ezzybel