The Trials of Ascension, Day One

As part of her new routine, Camellia awoke before the sunlight breached the surface of the water. Only today, when she headed downstairs to get ready, she was greeted by Damos, furiously scribbling on something atop the counter.

“Whoa, Damos, what’s got you up so early?” she asked.

Oblivious to the fact that it was earlier than normal humans tended to be awake, Damos nearly shouted, “Today’s the start of the Trials! Are you ready?”

“I suppose I am. What’ve you got there?” Camellia pointed at the parchment in his hands.

“Oh, I forgot to register. Apparently, if you’re participating in both the solo trial and the team trial, you have to submit a registration for both. What a pain, right?” He groaned and leaned back over the counter.

Camellia remembered a paper that Lynn had the group sign last week. “Ah, that thing we filled out a few days ago wasn’t enough?”

Damos shook his head. “Nope. Not for the solo-ers. You gonna come watch?”

“Huh? I thought Phoebe said we couldn’t. Some rule about expectations and fairness amongst contenders or something. No spectating, she said.” The truth was, even if she could have gone, she had no intention of spectating, as her nerves grew shakier by the day. Wanting to be as prepared as possible, Camellia planned to go train hard today and tomorrow before the team trials.

“Oh, wait, it says that right here on the form. Whoops,” Damos laughed. A moment later, his voice became quiet. “I might be nervous with you there, anyway,” he muttered.

Camellia ignored the comment. “What will you be doing in the solos?”

He raised his head from the counter, putting the coral-and-ink pen to his mouth in thought. “I’m not totally sure, but Lynn said it would most likely be the same as the team Trials, just by yourself instead.”

“Good luck, then. You won’t have Phoebe to save you,” Camellia joked.

“I won’t need her,” Damos huffed. “I’m going to pass through it all by myself. Mom and Dad will finally see. I can do this.” He returned to his registration.

With only the sound of the light scritching of tip on parchment, the shop went nearly dead silent as Camellia considered Damos’ words. He’s going to try to make his parents proud. Her demeanor soured. I wish I could’ve done that. Mom saw me as nothing but a failure.

I had hoped she would have moved past that, Obbie, but apparently not. Camellia, you have no evidence that your late mother saw you as a failure. Nor your father, for that matter. You never even opened their letters!

Whatever. Not my problem anymore. I got training to do.

With that, Camellia wished Damos the best of luck and opened the door to the street, heading for the training grounds.

A productive day of training ensued, where Camellia and Phoebe refined a tactic that Phoebe came up with: using her tentacles, Phoebe tossed Camellia in the air, whereupon she would use the burst of height and the forward momentum to glide down with her wings in a dagger rush attack. Camellia had gotten more used to the dampened efficacy of her power, and Phoebe was more than happy to use her full strength to fling her upwards. The tentacles offered far less height than Lynn’s blast, but it was enough to work for a mid-battle strategy. They dubbed the move “Crescent Rush” at Phoebe’s request: she loved cool heroic stories, she explained, and adored the “powerful aura that ya get from named abilities.”

Camellia had been slightly confused by the fact that neither of her two other friends had gone to participate in the solo trials. Phoebe explained that she wanted to get more time to train with Camellia instead. This brought a smile to Camellia’s face. Lynn, on the other hand, did not respond to Camellia’s inquiry.

They passed the day with rigorous combat. Before the sun set, Lynn suggested that it would be best to get some rest rather than push themselves right up until the deadline. Camellia resisted, but it was actually Phoebe who agreed, encouraging her that a day to rest and prepare would do them far better than wearing themselves to the bone.

The three began the walk home. Phoebe split off early, and Lynn and Camellia were left alone. Camellia felt Lynn’s studying gaze on her, growing self-conscious. The atmosphere with her had been strange, uncomfortable, and downright awful. Camellia’s stomach churned just thinking about Lynn disliking her. Though she had wanted to talk with her, Camellia found herself unable to muster up the courage to do so with Damos and Phoebe around. She knew she needed to resolve the tension before the trials, but just hadn’t found the time.

Now, however, an opportunity arose. Standing on the corner of the cobbled street where Phoebe had bade farewell, Camellia forced herself to talk to Lynn. There was no way she could continue, let alone win the Trials of Ascension on uncertain terms like this.

Camellia cleared her throat. “So, um, Lynn. I wanted to talk a little bit. I noticed you’ve been… upset with me.”

“Mmm.” Lynn raised an eyebrow.

Steeling herself with the knowledge this had to happen, Camellia continued, “I wanted to ask what’s wrong? What did I do?”

Lynn folded her arms and leaned up against the wall. “That’s somewhat bold of you to ask, don’t you think?”

Fear bubbled up inside Camellia. Bold? What? Confused, she pleaded, “I really don’t know what you mean, Lynn. Is it because I messed up with my aspect?”

Looking around them, Lynn gestured for Camellia to follow her into a less-populated alleyway. Once she was sure they were alone, she stared Camellia down. “Camellia, I’ll be blunt. I know you’re hiding something. Something big and important. And the fact that you pretend you aren’t makes me question if I can trust you at all.”

It was like Lynn had just punched Camellia in the chest, right on the fading bruise from the eel. She felt heavy, sick.

She knows.

Lynn may not have been privy to the exact details of Camellia’s reincarnation, but it seems she is at the very least onto something. You can’t hide this forever, Camellia, especially if you continue to flash your marine biology knowledge in combat.

“So? Do you have something to say for yourself?” Lynn pressed.

Camellia’s frantic train of thought looked something like this:

Do I lie? Do I just say it’s been some memories slowly returning? But then why would I have been brushing it off? She clearly knows something. At least she doesn’t hate me, I guess. But she said I’m untrustworthy. Am I really? But what do I even say to gain that trust back? I can’t very well just tell her the truth. She wouldn’t believe me.

She took a deep breath. “Lynn, I…” What would be the simplest way to explain it? “It’s hard to explain.”

“I’m listening.” For the first time in days, Lynn’s voice felt soft and reassuring. She leaned forward, looking deep in Camellia’s eyes.

The return to Lynn’s caring kindness eased Camellia’s nerves. Comforted, she continued, “I have memories. Memories from a previous life I’ve lived. It’s strange, but that old me knew a lot about aquatic life.” She drew a shaky breath. “That’s why I know some things that it seems like someone without their memories shouldn’t.”

A blanket of silence fell over the two of them. Lynn put a hand to her mouth, deep in concentration. A few fish lazily swam through the alley. A rolling turtle cart trundled by on the stone street. It felt like eons to Camellia, waiting there in the back alley, before Lynn opened her mouth again.

“So rather than a dearth of memories, you actually have too many?” Lynn said thoughtfully.

Camellia’s voice quivered, her lip trembling. “Sort of, yes. But I still have no memories from this life, aside from the ones I’ve been so lucky to make with you and the others. And that’s the full and honest truth.”

After a brief moment of intense contemplation, Lynn stepped forward and enveloped Camellia in a tight hug, freezing Camellia in place. “It’s alright. I understand.”

She held Camellia for a few seconds, her warmth sending waves of relief through Camellia’s body.

Releasing her, Lynn stepped back, keeping her hands on Camellia’s shoulders and looking her in the eyes. “I’m sorry, too, for being so distant and cold. I was worried about… Well, about what, I don’t really know. But I value honesty and sincerity.”

“That makes sense,” Camellia squeaked.

“And… your knowledge of marine life actually is quite expansive. I should have listened.” She took her hands off Camellia’s shoulders. “I have heard of people like you before, though. People who appear suddenly from nowhere, claiming years of memories of a life before. It’s ancient folklore, but—”

“There are other people like me?” Camellia blurted out.

Lynn pursed her lips. “Well, there are no people like that around today. There are just stories from ancient history. Tales of people similar to you. But it’s impossible to say for certain.” She looked at the street outside the alley.

Camellia’s eyes darted back and forth, thoughts flying, “That’s it. That’s what I’m going to ask Tethys for my request: to give me more info about these people from these legends.”

Returning a smile, Lynn folded her arms. “A wonderful idea. But you’re so sure we’ll win?”

“Oh, I know it. If we work together, I’m sure we can make it happen,” Camellia nodded, godflame in her eyes.

Soon after their reconciliation — and goodness me, am I overjoyed that they managed to do so! — the two parted ways. With a skip in her step, Camellia bounced home, excited not only at having Lynn as a friend once more, but also at the prospect of finally getting to know a little bit more about what happened to her.

As she rounded the corner to Damos’ family shop, she froze. Shouting. Aggressive, furious shouting. It was Damos and his parents. And from the sound of it, they were about to kill each other.