Through the Breach

The sun shone through the glassy surface of the ocean onto the sandy plains where, only a day before, the four young hopefuls had encountered a pack of magically enhanced barracudas. Only this time, the group faced not the threat of predators, but the danger of their own wild imagination.

Camellia had suggested going closer to the shoreline, but Damos told her it was impossible: a giant cliff face, much like the one by the Crags, separated the island’s shore from the plateau The Bed stood on. So, they found a nice, clear spot in the plains outside the city, with a view of the shore cliffs. The closer they were to land, the better, Camellia figured. Phoebe was the one stuck carrying all of the materials, thanks to her handy, or perhaps tentacle-y, power.

“You know, Damos,” Camellia began, walking alongside him en route to their destination. “About your weapon.”

Damos whipped his head to the side. “Huh? What about it?”

“Well, it’s a swordfish, right? And yet you’re always thrusting with it.”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with that?” Damos asked, puzzled. “I have to thrust to send out my projections.”

Camellia nodded. “Sure, but you still jab when using it as a sword, don’t you?”

“Yeah…?”

“So, well— How do I explain this? Swordfish typically hunt by slashing with their bills — that’s the nose part — not by skewering stuff with them.” Camellia pursed her lips and stared at the ground as they walked. “I don’t mean to be rude, I promise, but I noticed you had trouble yesterday with those barracuda. Swordfish are quick, too, so you should be able to match something like them, just not with poking. I think you may just have the wrong idea about how to use your actual weapon.”

When she heard no reply from Damos, she held out her hands in front of her and winced. “Not that you’re doing anything wrong. I’m sorry—”

“That’s amazing.”

“Huh?” Camellia looked up.

Damos’ mouth was agape, eyes filled with dazzled wonder. “That’s such a good idea! I never thought of that. It always just felt right to do, since it was so… pokey.” He summoned his sword. “But slashing at enemies instead, that makes a lot of sense. How did you think of that?”

Camellia laughed nervously. “Oh, just an idea I had. I’m still not sure how.”

“Whatever you were doing before you lost your memories must have been amazing,” Damos muttered.

Lynn looked over her shoulder behind her, back to Camellia. “Yes… Amazing, indeed.”

Soon thereafter, they arrived, and Phoebe set down the materials for their scheme. She had made off with two old sponge mattresses from her father’s, and Damos had managed to wrangle a huge flat scrap of old metal from his mother’s smithing work. Lynn, still unsure and concerned about the safety of the whole thing, also brought two old doors. Phoebe collapsed on the ground, panting.

“Didn’t need those doors, too, Lynn,” she gasped.

“Better safe than sorry. We can use them as a buffer in between the sponge and that hunk of metal,” Lynn explained.

Sprawled out on the ground like a starfish, Phoebe complained, “It was a long way to carry alla’ that, though.”

Damos squatted next to her, looking down at her. “We want Cam to be safe, right?” Phoebe took the hand he offered, and Damos pulled her up off the ground.

Together, the four of them set about constructing the contraption for the plan. With the massive hunk of metal on the ground, Phoebe lifted the two doors and gently set them down on top of it. Then, she took one of the sponge mattresses and laid it on top of the doors, making a sort of cake-looking structure of the materials they had brought. Damos and Lynn took a coil of rope and tied the whole thing together as securely as they could.

As Camellia watched, her nerves mounted. This was a rather insane plan, she realized. Out of habit, she pushed the thought aside. No use worrying now. I’ve just gotta do it.

To be honest with you, Obbie, I am not so pleased with this idea. It has a high chance of killing Camellia should a single thing go south. Unfortunately, both you and I are powerless here, so there’s naught we can do but watch.

With the platform ready, they stood back and admired their handiwork.

“Just to go over this one last time,” Lynn nervously announced, “Phoebe, you’ll hold the platform up above us with your tentacles.”

“Yup!”

“Damos, you’ll guide the platform and keep it straight and oriented with swordfish projections.”

“I’ll make it straighter than an eel that’s been all stretched out and isn’t all wavy anymore!”

“Not a very helpful analogy, but thank you.” Lynn took a shaky breath. “I, beneath the platform, will launch it in the air with my fist.” She turned to Camellia with a grave expression. “And you, Camellia, will ride atop it, getting blasted up to the surface.”

Camellia nodded and tried to crack a joke. “I might have the easiest job of all.” Unfortunately, Lynn did not laugh.

“On the way down, Phoebe,” Lynn turned back to her, “You’ll hold up the other sponge with your tentacles, ready to catch her wherever she appears.”

Phoebe saluted. “It’ll be the most comfortable bed she’s ever been on.”

“Alright. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but let’s do it.” It was time to put the ridiculous plan into action.

All in accordance with the steps Lynn outlined, the four of them set up to launch Camellia to the surface. She skittered on top of the bed on top of the doors on top of the metal, and Phoebe raised it in the air with her tentacles. Damos took a moment to carefully align his weapon before methodically placing a single jab every few inches around the edge of the Camellia-pad. Lynn brought out her aspect and began to nervously charge up a punch.

I really don’t want to watch this. I’m not sure I could handle watching Camellia die again, especially not when she’s so hopeful about this plan. What if it goes wrong? I won’t be able to do anything.

But… You deserve to see what happens. So I will continue to show you.

Camellia’s heart pounded in her chest. She could’ve sworn the thumping was audible to her friends.

“On the count of three, okay, Camellia?” Lynn shouted up.

“Okay!”

There was a pause. “Phoebe. Could you do it, please? Just tell me when.”

“Sure. Alright, Cammy. THREE!”

What would she find up above the water?

“TWO!”

Could she even be sure she’d be able to breathe up there?

“ONE!”

A dreadful thought occurred to Camellia, arriving far too late, the instant before launch. Wait, won’t the commotion scare away the gulls? This just puts me above the surface. How am I supposed to grab—

“GO!”

The force flattened Camellia against the sponge mattress, the noise of Lynn’s blast rumbling across the sand around them and reverberating through her chest.

In an instant, the platform rocketed up, soaring directly up to the surface of the water guided by a fleet of spectral swordfish. It was like a rollercoaster, the immediate launch from nothing into pure, unbridled force. The shimmering surface of the sea bore down on her, a ceiling collapsing to crush her flat.

And then… the sun.

For the first time in this new world, she felt the sun shine directly on her skin. The air above the sea, cool and crisp, filled her lungs. The bright blue sky, cloudless and vibrant, opened before her, an endless sea of possibility. How could something be so blue, so striking and inviting?

Camellia immediately melted, every muscle in her body relaxing, at home. The haphazard mattress platform rose higher and higher into the sky, and she felt more alive than she had ever been. She noticed birds directly above her, just beginning to scatter from the seaborne eruption.

Time slowed to a crawl. One bird, larger than the rest, remained circling above her. As the platform inched higher, the giant bird above her became outlined in a yellowish glow. Huh?

The seconds passed by like hours, and Camellia soaked up every molecule of the air.

Hold on, was that bird not going to fly away?

Lynn’s powerful accelerating force waned, and Camellia felt the energy fade as the platform reached the apex of its arc. The bird was terrifyingly close.

Only… The bed beneath her. It… wasn’t falling. What on earth?

The bird fluttered closer. It circled her in a wide arc and came to rest on the edge of the bed.

What.

It was a Steller’s sea eagle. Or a Pacific sea eagle, if you prefer. A truly massive bird, and this one was larger than nature should allow.

Training a beady eye on Camellia, it stared directly into her core, as if drilling right down to her soul.

Then, it opened its beak.

“Welcome, Camellia Renoir, to the world above the surface.”