The Final Ascent

The heat. That was the killer part of the hike: that ungodly, scorching heat emanating from the earth itself. Thankfully, the humidity of the jungle had faded, but the stains of sweat on their clothes remained, steaming from the warmth of the volcano beneath their feet.

As they climbed, however, rather than feeling more and more worn out, energy surged through Camellia. With every step up, the magic power she carried within her pulsed. As she was wondering how far this feeling would progress, Lynn cried out behind her.

“Need a break,” she panted, “And, water. Do we have water?”

Camellia cursed herself under her breath. Was she stupid? They were going on a hike up a mountain. How could she forget?

Sounding confused, Damos mentioned, “Wait, but isn’t that some over there?”

Camellia turned on her heel, whipping her head around. She was rather thirsty, herself.

A short distance away from the trail, a stream gurgled down the slope. Camellia traced its path up, realizing there was a white halo of snow encircling the very top of the mountain.

No other options.

They plodded over to the stream, and greedily took their fill of the crystal-clear liquid.

Should be fine. Running water is usually safe, right?

At altitudes like this, yes, Camellia. Especially in a world where industrialization doesn’t exist, few pollutants should be present.

Resting on the rocks next to the stream, letting their feet cool off from the heat in the cold mountain water, a shadow flashed around them.

“Uh, did you guys see that?” Damos asked.

“What just happened?” Lynn joined, pulling her feet from the stream.

Another shadow, blocking the sun for a brief moment, almost imperceptibly. Camellia looked up.

Vultures. A flock of them, maybe five in total, circled above their heads.

“Oh, no,” Camellia whispered.

Excited, Damos pointed up at the sky. “Hey, those are just like you, Camellia!”

“And not in a good way, guys,” Camellia jumped out of the stream. “We need a plan, now. They’re looking to pick our bones clean.”

“Leave it to me,” Damos proudly proclaimed, summoning his misty blue sword from thin air. He pointed it upwards and jabbed, sending projections out like a volley of arrows. They sailed upwards, towards the vultures, and…

Missed. Every one of them.

“Birds are gonna be a lot harder to hit for you, Damos,” Camellia surmised. “Give me a second, I need to think.” She closed her eyes and focused. Involuntarily, her wings took shape and folded out from behind her back.

Lynn furrowed her brow in concern. “You okay, Cam?”

“Yeah, no, it’s just… They feel different. The higher we get, especially, the lighter, more powerful they feel. Like I could lift the world itself— Aha!” An idea cut Camellia’s sentence short. “If we can’t get them from afar,” she said as she flapped her wings, “why don’t we take the fight to them?”

Shaking her head, Lynn disapproved. “No. I won’t let you go fight them alone.”

Camellia’s mouth turned up in an impish grin. “Oh, but I won’t be alone, Lynn.” She held out her hand. “How do you feel about getting to fly?”

Moments later, Lynn, carried in a tight hug around the thighs and waist by Camellia, soared into the sky for the first time in her life. “Wh- Whoa! Careful, Camellia!”

“I know what I’m doing,” Camellia assured her. “Just focus on punching those freaky vultures.”

Vultures aren’t freaky, Camellia. They’re a fantastically interesting scavenger species. Plenty of sea life lead similar lives, from what I’ve learned watching you.

Gritting her teeth, Camellia lifted Lynn higher and higher into the air with her wings. “Ready?” she asked Lynn.

“When you are,” Lynn replied, cocking a fist back.

With precision, Camellia swooped towards one of the vultures, almost too fast for it to react. As she flew by, Lynn slugged it, sending it shooting down to the ground where Damos cheered on, “Hell yeah, Lynn! Keep it up.”

Filled with confidence that her hairbrained scheme had actually borne fruit, Camellia circled around for another fly-by. She noticed Lynn’s nervous trembling in her arms lessen. The light of another charging fist lit up above Camellia. She dove down again, towards another bird, and Lynn walloped it clean in the body.

One by one, they cleared the predators from the sky, until their shadows would bother the three no longer. By the end of it, the last vulture practically sprinted away in fear, having seen the commotion slay its flockmates. Camellia had no mercy. There would be no more, she decided, for any threats to her friends.

As they landed, Damos clapped and hollered. “That was amazing, you two. I had no idea you could do that.”

Camellia blushed. Just buried my face into the small of her back for ten minutes. No big deal. “Neither did I.”

Stepping back into the cold stream to calm her nerves, Lynn took a deep breath. “All that’s left is to climb.”

And climb they did.

With their goal in view and their thirst quenched, the trio stormed up the side of the volcano. The trail was sparse by this point, with few, if any, signs of previous contenders.

Just as they reached the beginning of the snow, Camellia stopped them. “Hold on.” She leaned down, collecting a few flat stones into her arms.

“Is something the matter, Camellia?” Lynn knelt down to look at her face.

“No, it’s a good thing. Give me a second.”

Camellia toted the rocks over to a flat part of the trail. She sat down, and began methodically sorting them by size. Damos and Lynn stared at her in bewilderment. After placing them on top of one another in a small stack, she presented her work proudly. “It’s a duck!”

Damos stared at it blankly. “No, that’s a pile of rocks.”

“Okay, well it’s not actually a duck. That’s just what Mom called them. I think it’s actually called a cairn? I’m not sure. We made them on hikes though, for fun. It’s to mark where the trail is, for people who come after you.”

With a flex of his arm, Damos grinned, saying, “As if there’s gonna even be anyone after us. Hyah!” He punched the air.

Lynn and Camellia laughed, a hearty, long laugh. It felt like ages since she’d felt so carefree, Camellia realized.

With that, they continued upward. Lynn and Damos stared in wonder at the snow, reaching out to touch it before recoiling at its frigid temperature. They asked Camellia what it was.

“Snow,” she explained. “It’s what happens when water gets really really cold. Like the opposite of bubbles, basically.”

As she finished, they crested the final hill. There, before their eyes, melting the snow at the rim, was a bubbling caldera of lava.

“Do not jump into that,” Camellia warned. “It will kill you instantly.”

Damos and Lynn didn’t need to be told twice.

In the center of the caldera, Camellia noticed a small temple of pure black, the same as the landbound temple to Tethys on the shore. A tiny bridge of rock extended out to it.

Her first thought was to take no chances and simply fly them over instead, but the image of accidentally dropping them into a roiling lake of lava swatted the idea from her mind. Instead, she guided them across the bridge, one at a time, so that she could fly them up in case something happened.

The temple atop the island of rock stood, foreboding, ominous, in front of them. Constructed entirely of volcanic rock, it reminded Camellia of the blackstone streets and buildings of The Bed. She longed for that time, when things seemed so much simpler and happier. She wondered what Phoebe would think of how far they’d come.

But what’s the point if she’s not here to see us?

Camellia scowled with determination. She will. Soon.

With the heat singing the hair off their skin, there was no time to waste. They headed inside. A small altar room, the same as ever, housed a single brazier.

Camellia pulled out a vulture's feather, plucked from the birds after their midair dogfight. She looked at Damos, then at Lynn. They both nodded.

Heart pounding, Camellia stepped up to the brazier, laid the single feather down, and prayed: “O… Whoever’s listening. Please let us into the sky. Thank you.”

For a moment, nothing happened. The room was silent, and the feather remained in the brazier, unburnt.

Then, the ground began to rumble. The feather slowly smoldered, before bursting into white flames.

And the volcano erupted.