Bloom

Camellia dragged Damos to the beach. Lynn and Theio had gone back inside the house. Lynn had offered to help make some lunch, and Camellia silently thanked her for the opportunity to talk with Damos alone.

“Let’s sit down and watch the water, Damos.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

The two lowered themselves onto the hot sand. The rush of the waves soothed them both, leaving them sitting, not talking, admiring the endless expanse of ocean before them. A few minutes passed in that manner.

“So…” Damos began, “I guess The Bed is somewhere out there, huh?”

Camellia didn’t reply. She was busy overthinking how she would apologize. After a minute of overheating her brain, she opened her mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

They looked at one another in surprise, having apologized in perfect unison.

“I shouldn’t have said you have it so easy. I don’t think we could’ve passed the trials without you,” Damos admitted.

Camellia thought back to when Lynn had come to Damos’ defense. She had been right: Camellia was overly harsh.

And… I suppose I had also misjudged him, Obbie. It was unfair of me, as well. I would apologize to him if I could.

However, Camellia could do what I cannot. “You aren’t a slacker. Or a failure to your parents. I’m sorry I cut at you like that,” Camellia said, staring down at the sand.

“Well, it’s a little true. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much,” Damos chuckled softly. “It has been comparatively easy for me, life-wise. But there was just so much pressure from Mom and Dad. An unbearable amount. That fight with them was just the fin of the fish; it goes way deeper.”

Shifting her legs, Camellia gave him her full attention.

“It was like there wasn’t a single thing I ever did that was good enough for them. They always demanded more. And more. And would get on me like that when I fell short.” He scowled at the ocean. “And would make comments to my friends, too, about how they’d have to carry me up to the surface if I ever wanted a chance.” His tone grew soft. “That’s why it sucked so bad to fail the solos.”

Camellia put a hand on his shoulder. “You were the only reason we made it past the second trial. That stuff with the leviathan was incredible, really.”

“Hah, if only they could see that,” Damos laughed.

Mind churning, gears turning, Camellia mulled Damos’ story over. “Well, since we’re telling each other our histories… Can I tell you why I reacted so strongly? When you said I had no clue what it was like to come up short.”

“Yeah,” Damos turned his head to Camellia.

Just as she had revealed to Lynn, Camellia laid bare her biggest secret: that she hailed from a different world, a different life, which was the source of the vast marine knowledge she drew upon in battle.

The more she talked, the further Damos’ jaw dropped. “So you were a whole different person?”

“Yep. Different name and everything,” Camellia explained, “and I’ve got no memories from this life here. Well, aside from the ones we’ve made together after you saved me.”

“And that’s why you asked Tethys for answers?”

“Mhm,” Camellia hummed in response.

Damos’ next words pierced Camellia directly through the heart.

“Wow, your parents must miss you a lot, then.”

My parents. Mom. Mom dying. They…

After the recent events with Phoebe, the reminder of her mothers death — which she had continually pushed aside — was a kick in the back.

Camellia's vision doubled, her chest tightened. Stomach bubbling, nausea washed over her.

She could barely speak. “Hey, Damos, why don’t you head inside and see what the deal with the food is? I need to do some thinking,” she squeaked.

“Huh? Oh, okay. I’m getting hungry, anyway,” he said, hopping up off the ground. “Thanks for apologizing. And for telling me about yourself. Sorry for bringing the mood even further down with how my parents think I’m a disappointment,” he joked.

“Of course,” Camellia murmured, her world spinning.

Damos strolled back inside, leaving Camellia alone on the beach.

A disappointment. A failure. Her own parents thought Camellia was the same, hadn’t they?

…Hadn’t they?

That was why she ran away, after all. The whole reason she hadn’t been there for her mother’s passing in the first place.

Hearing the Damos spell his own troubles out so plainly shot an arrow of doubt right through the window of her soul, fracturing it. Camellia’s parents had never spoken to her like Damos’ did, even after she fell far short with the first Institute application.

The sound of the ocean faded, her ears ringing. She remained sitting in the sand, dizzy.

Were her parents ever actually disappointed?

She put her hands to her face. The memory of sitting on the street in the dim godflame light, listening to furious shouting from inside floated to the surface of her mind. Damos hadn’t met their high expectations, and he was ripped apart for it. Camellia’s father never once screamed himself hoarse in anger at her like Damos’ father did; her mother never made passive-aggressive remarks about her lack of worth like Damos’ mother did.

But if it were the case that her parents never stopped being proud of her, then…

Camellia caught her breath, the realization slamming into her stomach.

She ran away for nothing.

Camellia couldn’t bear the thought. Her hands trembled, her core shaking with anguish.

Her mother died before they ever got another chance to speak again, simply because Camellia couldn’t bear the pain of falling short of her own expectations.

It was my fault. They never hated me. And I ran away for nothing. I left mom to die for nothing. Just like how I failed to say anything about those goddamn crocodiles. I left Phoebe to die, too.

She broke down sobbing, choking out quiet, muffled cries of despair.

Camellia, it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known — about the accident or what hurt Phoebe. Please, wipe away your tears.

But she did no such thing. For a few minutes, her solitary sobs rang out over the sea, announcing to the whole world that she was broken.

I should just die. It doesn’t matter what world I’m in, I’ll just mess it all up again and again.

Face buried in her arms, she was so distracted that she didn’t hear the door open, nor the footsteps go from stone to sand as they approached. Suddenly, a softness enveloped Camellia from behind. Two arms wrapped around her torso. She looked back.

Lynn, on her knees in the sand, buried her face in Camellia’s shoulder, squeezing her tight in a hug.

“I’m sorry, Camellia. I’m sorry,” she whispered.

For a few moments, that was all that mattered. That softness, the warmth of Lynn’s body pressed against hers. Camellia’s spiral stopped, and she leaned back into her friend, the one who understood her the most in this world.