The Cold Shoulder

The next week passed similarly to the one prior, although this time, with renewed vigor and heart. Camellia tackled her training with gusto. Every day, she was first to arrive at the grounds and the last to leave. The mornings were especially brutal, with the aches and soreness from the day before, but her excitement for this entirely new piece of this world to uncover overpowered the pain.

One morning, she tried contacting Tethys at the turquoise temple from before, finding a gap between other people’s appointments. When she recited the prayer of calling, though, no goddess appeared. Instead, Camellia felt a warm feeling wash over her, like Tethys herself was whispering in her ear to let her know that she had done right.

Well, it seems Camellia won’t need that seagull feather, after all. Probably for the best, too — we wouldn’t want her strangling a poor gull, now, would we?

With the knowledge that she had passed the goddess’ trial, she eagerly poured her all into refining her skills. During the day, she practiced every strike with utmost precision, fueled by the awe, wonder, and inspiration of the otherworldly magic she now wielded. At night in bed, she concocted techniques she could employ that made use of her wings.

Her creativity served her well. Camellia sought to use the spectral appendages in any way possible. After some thought, she came up with a few specific moves: she could fly up and swoop down with her dagger, as an eagle slashing with its talons; she could extend her wings to their full span, acting as barrier to her allies; she could curl her wings around herself, forming a protective cocoon; and she could swipe forward with one in a longer-range attack to disorient or disarm an opponent. These four moves in particular took up the bulk of her training time, as she honed the ideas into practical tactics for battle.

One problem plagued Camellia’s mind through the interim. Though she poured her all into thoughtfully mastering her new power, something was severely off. Her wings, so liberating above the surface, felt sluggish, as if they were waterlogged. Despite their magical nature, something about being underwater hampered her movement, making them harder to maintain.

However, insurmountable this challenge was not. Over and over, she told herself, No use in crying about it. There’s always a way forward.

The following days, Camellia exerted herself to maximum capacity to accommodate for the feeling, getting used to the weight and speed underwater. If this was how they worked, she decided, then she would make the most of it.

Phoebe, in particular, excitedly helped Camellia with her strategies, eager to teach her all about the best ways to make use of an aspect like hers. Damos joined her, hungry to learn more about mastering his own power to reach a level playing field with Phoebe.

On the other hand, Lynn became distant. Not outwardly cold, mind you, but reticent to the point that Camellia began to worry. The absence of her usual softness caused Camellia to evaluate exactly everything she had done since arriving in this world.

Camellia, dear, I think she’s simply suspicious of your, ah, otherworldly origin. You can’t hide it forever.

This difference manifested most clearly in group training. On the many days that the group spent out in the kelp fields or the sandy plains combating the legions sent by opposing minor deities, the cohesion between Lynn and Camellia faltered.

One such occasion stood out in particular.

In the kelp forest beyond the walls of the city, the four ventured in search of enemies to practice against. It had been around an hour of no activity whatsoever when Damos flopped down on the sand next to a small rocky hill. As soon as he hit the ground, a giant grey maw erupted out of one of the holes in the rocks, latching onto his wrist.

“What the hell?” Damos screamed. He yanked his arm away and jumped to his feet, a huge writhing mass slithering out of the hole still attached to his wrist. Thankfully, his bracer protected his arm from too much harm.

The other three immediately sprang to attention. As they did, however, five more snakelike creatures, massive chains of speckled flesh reaching up to three meters long, shot out toward them from small caves in the rock.

“Eels! Moray eels!” Camellia shouted, summoning her wings and spreading them wide to protect her friends from the unexpected assault. The huge eels swam upwards over her wings, perturbed by the block.

Phoebe struggled to grasp the things with her tentacles, their incessant squirming a match for her own wriggly power. “They’ve got some magic that’s making them more slippery and slimy than the ones we’ve seen before. I can’t get a hold of ‘em,” Phoebe complained as their attackers disappeared into the surrounding kelp.

Lynn jumped forward, summoning her massive boxing-glove claws and aiming a punch at the eel still firmly attached to Damos. She swung her fist forward with blinding speed, aiming to strike the thing down in one hit. Only, her punch swung through nothing, the eel’s evasively slimy body simply getting pushed out of the way as it writhed around. Damos flailed his arm about, still screaming.

Keeping an eye on the dark forest of green surrounding the group, Camellia called back to Phoebe, “Got anything else you can use?”

“I can ink ‘em, will that work?”

Camellia remembered an argument someone had had with a professor in one of her classes, where a student adamantly claimed that octopus ink had the chemical properties to disorient some species of fish. It hadn’t been clear if it were true or not, but it was worth a shot.

“If you can, it might be worth trying. It could help disorient it. But be careful, we don’t want to set ourselves up for another ambush,” Camellia told her, eyes still trained on the swaying seaweed into which the eels had disappeared.

“Heh, ‘careful’ is my middle name,” Phoebe cackled, closing her fist and aiming it like a cannon at Damos’ eel. A moment later, a jet of deathly black ink shot out of thin air before her fist, a sharp plume aimed directly at Damos’ hand. The eel, however, remained firmly attached to Damos’ arm, whereas Damos began coughing, face clouded in swirling ink.

“That’s not your middle name, you idiot! Try ‘careless’ instead,” Damos cried through aggressive coughs.

Phoebe shrugged. “Whoops. Still working on that one. Sorry, dude.”

“Focus, everyone!” Lynn called out. Her face betrayed her confident voice, her eyes darting furiously and her teeth gritted in frustration. She wound up another punch, sending it through the fading cloud of Phoebe-paint. It, too, whiffed.

Seeing this, Camellia called out to Lynn. “Use your claws. The sharp edge will be more effective against their slithering bodies.”

Lynn completely ignored her, as if Camellia hadn’t said anything at all.

Camellia turned around. “Lynn? Did you hear me? Your claw, it’ll work better against these guys.”

Again, Lynn gave no response, instead using her arms to wave away the last vestiges of the ink.

“Lynn, what’s going on? Did someth— Oof!” As Camellia diverted her attention to Lynn in concern, one of the missing eels burst forth from the forest and slammed into her chest with all its might. It knocked her several feet back into the sand with its blow, her wings vanishing into golden mist as she lost focus.

“Camellia!” Phoebe cried, reaching out with her tentacles to protect her. Camellia thought she saw Lynn briefly look over in concern, but her vision blurred.

The ink now gone, Damos looked back, “Oh, you bastards! You’ve done it now. Sharp stuff, Camellia?”

“Yeah,” Camellia coughed out, winded from the blow. “Your sword can work. Don’t forget to slash.”

Wordlessly, with his free hand, Damos brought out his weapon and nodded gravely to Camellia before furiously swiping at the monster on his wrist. A few cuts later, and it released its grip.

Phoebe lifted Camellia to her feet. Summoning her wings again, she leapt up into the air for an attack.

Or, she would have, had her wings not flickered like a lightbulb and disappeared once more, leaving nothing but golden mist behind. Her legs faltered, and after a small jump, she collapsed onto the ground. “Oh, God…dess,” she groaned.

With urgency that Camellia hadn’t heard from her before, Phoebe loudly warned, “Guys, Cammy’s not gonna be able to fight. We gotta get out of here, quick.” She lifted Camellia with her tentacles and wrapped her safely as she scanned for a path out.

“Gotcha. Lynn, let’s go,” Damos responded, hopping over a rock. Lynn silently followed. Camellia couldn’t see it, but rather than worry, Lynn’s face twisted in uncertainty.

And so, without defeating the magic eels that had ambushed them, the four swiftly departed the kelp forest back home.

Once Camellia was able to walk on her own two feet once more, she felt a gnawing pain in her abdomen, one separate from the nasty bruise left behind by the eel. Lynn had totally ignored her, flippantly and blatantly disregarded Camellia’s aquatic advice. I’m the strategist, aren’t I? Phoebe and Damos had somewhat casually crowned her as such, after a few combats wherein she directed them on how to make more effective use of their powers depending on the enemy. What’s wrong with Lynn?

Back at the training grounds, Camellia slowly lowered herself to the ground, taking a seat to rest and watch. After making sure she was okay, Phoebe challenged Lynn and Damos to some sparring matches. As they walked off, Camellia couldn’t shake the anxiety running rampant within her. She called out, “Lynn!”

Lynn turned back, staring daggers at Camellia. She did not speak. Phoebe and Damos continued onwards, leaving her behind.

“W- Why did you… Not listen to me?” Camellia winced as she spoke, tenderly holding her stomach.

Lynn pressed her mouth into a thin line. “Why should I? You don’t have any memories, after all. What would you know about combat? You can’t even maintain your aspect if you get hurt.”

Camellia sat stunned at Lynn’s words, shocked by a tone she had never heard from her before. “But Phoebe and Damos listened, and it helped!”

“That’s their choice to make.”

Camellia’s voice was now a strained plea. “Why don’t you trust me?”

Lynn remained silent. She shook her head, turned around, and followed Phoebe and Damos into the center of the training grounds.

What did I do wrong?

Thus was one moment in which the group’s cohesion fell short. A week passed, tensions still high, with an awkward atmosphere remaining between the two. But, with the trials to prepare for — a more immediate threat — Camellia shelved the issue. Finally, one morning, Damos excitedly announced to Camellia that the big day was upon them. By the same time tomorrow, the Trials of Ascension would begin.