Written 2023/9/3
It was against the rules to fish off the side of the ocean-borne university. How were any of the on-site restaurants and grocery stores meant to make money if the students simply caught their own food?
Roland, like most students, was fully aware of this— and also too broke to care. He even had his own quiet little fishing spot, ironically tucked away behind the biology lab. Not only was the spot awkward to reach— having been a small ledge with barely enough room to sit on— but it was also quite near his dorm, which allowed him to easily sneak his supplies to and from the ledge without being spotted.
When he fished, it was the only time of his day where he thought of nothing. Not his next class. Not his homework. Not even the drama that seemed to follow him like a vengeful spectre. Nothing. It was liberating, and breaking the rules gave him a certain kind of thrill— getting away with it proved to him that he was above mortal law.
He sat with a contended sigh as he cast his line into the sparkling ocean before him, dangling his feet over the edge and swinging them to the tune of a song he had stuck in his head.
He sung in a quiet whisper, so as not to be heard. "Jump, why don't you?"
The waves below seemed to kick up, hitting the ledge in tune with his song.
"Jump, honey, why don't you jump into my arms?"
The sun beamed down directly on him, a celestial spotlight.
"Jump, honey, jump into my-"
His singing was cut short, as a large fish jumped directly into his arms. He stared at it in shock, and it stared back with a piercing red eye as it gasped for air. The thing didn't struggle or even attempt to get back into the water, dying quietly in the stunned boy's arms with no effort on his part.
Like a gift from above.
Later, Roland gutted the fish as he prepared to cook himself dinner— and found words written inside it. Within this fish was a clear message, Roland Mhir was chosen by God.
And he had a mission.