An Unsolvable Puzzle

Camellia sat dejectedly against the slope of the training grounds where she and Damos had chatted yesterday, her prior hopes all but extinguished. She scowled at the sand beneath her.

What a joke. An impossible task. Some goddess. I thought she was supposed to be wonderful and kind? Instead, she just ruins everything. She shuffled her feet around, aimlessly playing with the sand beneath her sandals. Why the hell am I even here? No matter what stupid reality I’m in, it’s just disappointment after disappointment.

Hmm. Well, I wouldn’t say that, Camellia. You haven’t even tried to come up with any solutions yet! Obbie, do you have anything?

Agh, right. You can’t help her, either.

I suppose all we can do is watch, for now. Don’t give up, Camellia.

I should just give up.

Well, now.

Stupid goddess.

Don’t be rude to Tethys, Camellia. I’m sure she has her reasons.

This world sucks.

It’s quite nice here! Perhaps you could find an existence that doesn’t use magic or combat? What about becoming a fish chef or something?

Maybe I should just die again.

Most definitely not, Camellia! Try to see the silver lining. It’s not over for certain. You haven’t even tried yet.

Her mind was a swamp, to be honest. It may be best to give her a little space for now.

Damos, Lynn, and Phoebe had been similarly disheartened. But, after they offered their condolences as they walked back to the training grounds, they moved on. They still had to practice, after all.

Camellia watched Lynn and Phoebe coach Damos in attack strategies, pointing out his mistakes as he practiced swinging against a training dummy.

Wish I could join.

You don’t have to have an aspect to participate in the trials, Camellia. Lynn said so herself, remember?

Camellia buried her face in her knees. Tears would have flowed down her face if she were on land, but here, they joined the salty ocean water the second they left her eyes. She would forever be trapped beneath the waves.

~~~~~~

Camellia became despondent. For nearly the next week, she barely left the guest room in Damos’ house, climbing out of bed only to retrieve the food Damos worriedly brought to her. She spent most of her time sleeping. Every day, she would wake up, feel the pain all over again, and collapse back under the sheets. Here and there, she would resentfully stare out the window at the streets below, watching the people walk by.

It was practically the same as her life before. Except here, she had no computer or phone to distract her, to numb the sting of rejection, the pain of failure she felt in her bones. Over and over, she told herself that she simply wasn’t enough. It made me sad.

Damos was especially worried. Every day, before he left for the training grounds, he would check in on her and bring her something simple to eat. Camellia quietly accepted it, giving little in the way of response. Upon his return in the late afternoon, he would bring dinner, as well as Lynn and Phoebe. They ate together at a table behind the seashell curtain in the shop, though their nightly meals were far less jovial than the first one at the restaurant.

After a few days of this routine, Phoebe came up to her room one morning.

“Come in,” Camellia sullenly replied to the knock, staring out the window as she sat on the bed.

Phoebe slowly opened the door. “Hey.”

Camellia remained facing the window. “Oh, hi, Phoebe. What brings you to this sad hole today?” Expecting some sarcastic quip in response, Camellia closed her eyes and prepared for the worst.

Nothing came. A few moments passed, silent.

A sudden touch on the shoulder snapped Camellia out of it. She felt a weight join her on the soft bed.

“Hey, so, um,” Phoebe began, “I know it’s been hard.”

“Yeah. It has.” Glum and uninterested, Camellia continued gazing outside.

“I don’t know if it’ll help, but… I wanted to tell you a bit about myself.”

“What about?”

In the corner of Camellia’s eye, she saw Phoebe sigh and lean back on her hands. “When I was a kid, I really, really wanted to be big and strong. Like those big muscly guys you see win the Trials of Ascension. Being a giant warrior with, like, a huge club was the only dream I ever really cared about,” she softly chuckled.

Turning her head to look at Phoebe, Camellia finally broke her staring contest with the window.

“My dad constantly told me off for wanting to be a contender. Over and over again, he said it wasn’t worth it. Told me it was… impossible. With how small I was and all.” She put on a mocking, gruff, masculine voice, “‘Not to mention how carefree and unserious you are!...’ What a jerk.”

That caught Camellia’s attention. She finally shuffled around, turning to find Phoebe staring at the wall. Camellia joined her on the side of the bed.

“That last part always got to me, too. He was an awful guy, for sure. Always harping ‘bout how I’d never have a tender moment in my entire life, either. Couldn’t stand my personality.”

“But, you’re doing fine right now,” Camellia replied.

“And you wouldn’t believe the effort it’s taken. Probably ten times more than Dam—” She stopped herself. “Nah. He’s great.”

Phoebe took a moment, puzzling out how to continue. “Anyway, being a contender. Big ‘n strong. Didn’t end up happening.”

Camellia remained silent, listening carefully.

Phoebe rested her chin on her hands. “But that ‘impossibility’ didn’t stop me. If I was too small to fight, then I decided I’d make myself big enough to pay attention to. Be so good at fighting that it didn’t matter what my physical size was.” Her arm glowed a faint purple, and the outline of a tentacle took shape around it. “My aspect sure helped a lot with that. But I had to get there first.”

“What do you mean?” Camellia asked.

“Well, I had to learn how to fight before I could fight with an aspect, right?”

Camellia scrunched her face in response.

“Point is,” Phoebe held up her hand, hesitant, before gently resting it on top of Camellia’s. “Sometimes the stuff that seems truly impossible? Ya just need to take a different look at it.” She paused for a second to allow the words to sink in. “It might not turn out how you expect, but there’s always a way forward.”

Phoebe finally stood up, dismissing her magic aspect, the absence of her weight on the bed a stark return to the loneliness from before.

“I’m not some huge, hulkin’, muscly badass lady. But you know what?” She looked at Camellia. “I’m happy enough with how I turned out. Even if I’m not living the life I always dreamed of.”

Silence fell over the room.

“Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be satisfied with anything less than… two wishes up Dryside! Yeah! I’m not done yet!” Phoebe flexed her arms, posing overdramatically like a bodybuilder.

Camellia couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s good. I like hearing that.” Phoebe smiled. “I gotta get back to training,” she said, strolling to the door. “But,” she looked back at Camellia with a wink. “I’d be happy to show you the ropes of combat, if ya want. Just holler, and I’m there. We all gotta start somewhere.”