Kurtis was used to waking up before the sun rose, as was his daily ritual. He'd take stock of all the new aches and pains in his body, scrape himself up some sort of breakfast, get dressed, and make the trek from his lampless shack over night-hidden roots and rocks on a path he himself had cut through repetition. 

He reckoned he was halfway through his usual journey when flashing lights cut through the magnolias and cedars that clogged the side of the path that blocked what could have been a clear view of the coast. It was different than torchlight. It didn't flicker in the same way, not to mention the gold-silver coloration it held.

"What in the four winds...." He thought to himself, more peeved that the flashes were destroying his night vision than anything else. He couldn't afford to turn an ankle. Right behind that was another, more familiar, thought: curiosity. "Fireflies? Treasure hunters? Bandits? By the stars I hope it's more of those half cocked treasure hunters." 

Each explanation he thought of was less fitting than the last. He knew he'd never be able to let it go, and set about convincing himself he should go see.

"Well, I suppose a detour couldn't hurt. The foreman won't begrudge me a little tardiness. After all, it's my civic duty to see whatever this is and check if it needs reporting to the sheriff."

He whistled; high and clear.

Nothing. The forest impassively stared back at him through it's nightly veil. 

He whistled again, adding a secondary trill for good measure. First he heard the drowsy twittering of a few finches he had woken up, then the forest fell quiet again.

"oh, by the stars, that mutt..."

He was about to purse his lips again when the sound of something moving in the underbrush stopped him. Quiet at first, but getting louder. Closer. 

Before he could even brace himself, a creature burst from the underbrush at a speed, and a size, that gave a racehorse a run for it's money and bolted straight towards him. It was a sinewy, furred, four-legged creature with fangs that shone bright white in the moonlight. 

With all the reverence a low-born man gives a king, the creature stopped at Kuris' side, at attention for his next command. 

"There you are boy, sorry to wake you." The large hound simply gave a small whine, but otherwise just rubbed up against his leg until it's ears perked up and it looked in the direction of the flashing lights. They had stopped, for now, only occasionally flashing much more dimly than they had been before. 

His hound didn't seem worried but looked intently after them. Kurtis tended to trusts the hound's instincts, being a godcrafted breed and all. Much smarter than a normal hound by a long shot.

"Keep your ears and nose open, okay? I'm not awake enough for something to jump out at me." The hound's ears quickly flattened then stood straight up in response, and the pair stepped off the path towards the origin of the lights.

In the time it would have taken him to travel the rest of the way to his work, Kurtis found himself breaking out of the forest that surrounded his home, and standing in chest-high sweetgrass with the sound of waves lapping at a shore in front of the man and his dog. Stepping from the grass and on to a sandy beach, his dog circled twice as it examined the area, found nothing immediately at odds, and turned back towards the source of the flashing lights.

Far down the coast, so much so that it looked like a small shack, that had smoke trailing from it's pock-marked roof. A brighter flash than the others obscured the building, then vanished just as quickly, revealing a newly created hole that had eaten most of the wall, from what he could see.

No lights followed after.

"Well isn't that something, eh boy? Maybe that'll teach 'em to fire old Kurtis! Who want's their stinking fish anyways?" He chuckled to himself, and his hound looked at him; contented that Kurtis was happy. It may have been more than a decade ago, but it still rankled to be tossed out like the fishbones that they spent all day removing.

He wanted to take in the sight of the smoking building for as long as he could, though he knew if he stood for too long he's be out of this job as well. He resolved instead to commit the whole scene to memory. The glow of the fishery standing against the night sky. The Twin moons high above. Waves and wind dancing together to create soothing music, and pulling apart the columns of smoke in the distance.

He only noticing his dog growling when he nearly turned into it's muscled side.

The hounds eyes were locked, not on the fishery and it's lights, but the calmly swishing waves. Inky black under the moon, it's surface was as impenetrable. He tried to hear it, smell it, see it, whatever it was, but only came up with the usual sights and sounds that accompany his walk.

The fishery and the joy it's burning brought him forgotten, Kurtis tried to track the hound's eyes. It looked just as calm as it had been when they stepped out of the sugargrass.

Kurtis knelt and placed a hand on the dogs back, feeling the rumble as it continued growling. Suddenly, it stopped itself, taking a few tentative steps towards the waterline and freezing.

"What is it boy?" A tense moment passed, the dog having Kurtis' full attention. He was just about to rise when the dog rushed back, towards the sweetgrass bushels. "What? What do you need?" 

Noticing Kurtis hadn't followed, his dog rushed back, seizing his trouser leg in it's teeth and pulling. He knew the hound wasn't pulling with it's full might, if it was, he wouldn't be wearing anything on his lower half anymore.

Whatever it was that his hound was sensing had spooked it, and Kurtis was smart enough to know it was a sign to leave. As he carefully stepped one-leggedly after his dog, hoping his pant leg remained intact, he took one last look at the beach and, finally, caught sight of something. A wagon sized section of the water's surface bubbled. Then it began to roil like a boiling pot. 

Apparently thinking he was moving too slowly, Kurtis's hound resolved to do the rest of the movement for him. All at once, his dog bolted towards the sweetgrass, pant leg still in his teeth, and Kurtis suddenly found himself looking at the night sky. 

A moment later, the sandy beach transitioned to dirt and the rustling of plant life. 

Kurtis sat up, realizing his hound had pulled him into the perfect hiding spot and then positioned itself between him and turbulent patch of sea. Peaking between the blades of grass, Kurtis watched.

He waited for something to rise from the water. A tentacle, or some other sea beast like the sailors that worked the canneries ships used to tell him about. Half in jest and the other half with a touch of fear in their eyes. 

Instead, the roiling stopped. Slowly petering out until the surface looked just as smooth as normal.

"Was that it-" He tried to ask, but his dog stepped a heavy paw on the hand he had pressed to the ground to maintain his balance, and let out an admonishing whine. 

Taking the hint, he looked back to where the sand met the water. It took his old eyes a moment to focus, not helped by the loss of nightvision from the flashing silver-gold from before, but now he could a handful of figures standing waist deep in the surf. 

They exited onto the sands of the beach, and another group rose behind them. Then another, and another. Each one in deep conversation with each other, with hanging heads and frustrated swipes of the hands. Kurtis could only hear faint conversing and the loudest words spoken from his hiding place. He remembered stories of sea-women who lured men to their deaths at sea with nothing but their voice, and decided he was just fine with what he could hear.

When about two dozen had left the ocean, the final handful rose up, including someone with clear authority. 

All conversation stopped, and two dozen shadows turned towards one clutching at it's stomach. That figure stepped onto shore and surveyed those around him before making a few hand gestures accompanied by a raised voice Kurtis still couldn't make out.

Smaller groupings started to peel off. Two or three at a time walking in different directions. Some through the sugargrass and towards the forest, others along the coastline, but all in the directions away from the smoldering fishery. Thankfully none passed by Kurtis's hiding spot. If they had, his heart may have exploded on the spot.

Soon, only half a dozen were left, including the one pressing a hand to it's abdomen. That one stepped away from the rest, gazing intently at the burning building down the coast. None of the remaining figures moved for what felt like an eternity. 

Kurtis was sure he would have burst from his hiding place if he didn't have his hound at his side, the pillar of strength it was. 

The smoke started to fade from the fishery. 

The faintest fingers of sunlight started to reach across the sky. 

Kurtis' legs were cramping, and he was sure he was about to fall over if he didn't shift positions soon, yet he dared not. 

Mercifully, the figure clutching it's stomach broke it's statuesque musings, pulling something from within itself and tossing it to the ground before turning and leaving with it's entourage of shadows. All of them quickly disappeared into the brush and grass, the injured one flanked by two others. 

Kurtis' couldn't move, even after they vanished completely. His hound stood stock still until the sun had completed it's way into the dawn sky, then finally relaxed. It took him longer, even as his dog snuffled at his face, but eventually he stood and examined the beach with a relieved sigh. 

"I think that's enough excitement for one day, eh boy?" He couldn't quite wrangle the nervous tinge out of his voice. "Let's just get out of here." 

He quickly stepped through the sugargrass, hoping to leave whatever that was far behind him, get good and drunk, and render himself unable to think about the event. Hopefully the foreman didn't ask him to many questions, he wasn't sure he could offer up a single strand of explanation. 

Kurtis was almost at the tree line when his hound barked and suddenly bolted from his side, back towards the beach. Massive paws sending up shredded sugargrass and tufts of dirt. 

"Wha- No! Heel boy!" He whispered, then whistled as loudly as he dared "Heel!" 

He chased after the mutt, wondering what had gotten into it's head, back onto the beach. It was by the waters edge, forelegs laying down, rear in the air like it did when playing with the squirrels in the yard. Then his exhausted mind gave him back the hounds command word. 

"Hakerse!" 

Instantly the hound stood at attention, coming back to Kurtis' side without a sound. He scratched it behind the ears and felt the muscles there relax. 

"Please don't run off like that, I don't want to be here when those shades come back... What was so important that you had to bolt, hm?" A glint caught his eye.

Standing point down in the sand was a military issue blade, like the shorter of the pair he saw on the sides of officers he'd seen at the barroom. This one was beautifully crafted, it's metal practically iridescent and it's grip made of dark wood and well oiled leather. The sand holding the blade drank a deeply of the godsblood that coated the blade itself. 

At least Kurtis thought it was godsblood. It could have been seawater on looks alone, but seawater wasn't so viscous as the fluid on the blade, nor did it so readily dry into sizable salt crystals like it was.

What else could it be but the blood of a god?

He grabbed the blade, pulling it from the sand and shaking the rest of the moisture from it, though the salt crystals remained firmly affixed to it, even when he used a rock to scrape them away, only succeeding in scraping the leather grip on accident.

Bundling it up in the handkerchief he kept in his back pocket, the man and his hound rushed away from the beach and back to the path to town.

Not noticing, or simply ignoring, the faint humming floating in from the waves.