Phoenix

Water

"You'll swim to those limestone cliffs."

Miki pointed to a burnt ochre mirage in the distance, shimmering beneath the sun. Jutted, craggy and hollowed out from under, they hung over the water like a sickle. Ash suspected it would be a marathon swim and was probably punishment for keeping Miki waiting.

The night had been spent emptying her well of anguish so that she was now as dry and caked as a chamois left in the sun. Exhausted, she'd overslept the rising sun and woken at 9 am, an hour late for her third day of inductions.

"Drawler," she'd sworn, jumping out of bed and stumbling to the door, groaning as her aching muscles struggled to keep up. She'd flown down the stairs and into the tavern, slamming into the person that happened to be standing on the other side of the swinging doors. She couldn't have chosen a worse person to run into.

"You're late," Miki had said, unflinching on impact, as though Ash were nothing but a fly that had accidentally fluttered against her royal blue robes. Without so much as a questioning glance at Ash's face, which was still puffy and red from crying, she'd stalked away, her body language saying, follow me.

Ash looked again at the cliff and tried to put a reference to the distance. From Outer Band to Junction Bridge maybe? Surely not as far as Outer Band to the Establishment. Miki bent to scoop up a handful of sand, letting it trickle through her fingers. "The wind and tide are against you now, where this morning it would've been with you. Take that as your first lesson in tardiness. The ocean never waits."

Ash watched a white crested wave peak and crash in a foaming, writhing mass. The ocean was ill at ease, and the feeling of impending doom reminded her of the storm. She didn't want to drown which, seeing as she didn't know how to swim, was a likely scenario. But she didn't want Miki to see her weakness.

Miki pressed on, oblivious to Ash's discomfort. "Water is the most flexible of all the forces," she said. "It's able to appear in solid, liquid and gas forms. Earth may contain it, but never for long periods of time. Plied by wind, it can become volatile and unpredictable. Fire is its counterpart and rival—being the force of opposite nature. You will learn that fire and water do not always get along." She gave Ash a hard look that said—Just like you and I—before continuing, "If you'd like to stay on this island, you'll need to be able to swim. More than that, you'll need to learn the trials of water in its most expansive form we know—the ocean. Today's lesson will teach you about the unrelenting nature of this force, its many faces, its unpredictability. You will learn that stamina of the mind is more important than that of the body." Another hard look. "Mind over matter."

The wind gusted, the sand stung Ash's legs and shell grit somehow found it's way between her teeth. Despite her discomfort, her body steeled. If there was anything the orphanage had taught her, it was mind over matter.

Miki turned, meeting Ash's eyes with her bright blue ones. "Any questions?"

It was Ash's turn to answer in action. Without a word, she waded into the water, stopping only when she was neck deep in the sucking surf. Her panic rose, as did her heartbeat, but she forced her face into a grim facade. She was an orphan. She'd fought off bullies with her bare hands, mixed concrete for paths she'd never walk on, kneaded vat upon vat of dough for bread she'd never eat. Swimming to a cliff was just another task to complete—a drudgery to get through.

Pushing off the sandy bottom, she pumped her arms as she'd seen Eli do the night before on his board. But with each stroke, she felt herself slowly sinking under. Her mouth filled with brine and she spluttered and spat it out, all the while trying to regain her footing. But the waves thrust her this way and that so her feet swept the sand like a bewitched broom in a blizzard.

Miki stood on the shore, hands on hips. "You can't swim?"

Ash bit back a sarcastic remark. She thought it should be obvious she couldn't swim. She was an orphan, not a toff. She'd never even seen the ocean until a couple of days ago.

"Sprout, forget it. I'll set another task."

"I'm not a sop!" she yelled once she'd regained her footing. She was sick of people asking her if she was okay. If Miki wanted her to swim to the damn cliffs, then she'd do it.

Miki gave an exasperated sound, halfway between a groan and a laugh.

Ash ignored her and flipping onto her back, tried floating, only to be dunked by an incoming wave almost immediately. She spluttered and choked again and this time, the brine went up her nose, and out her eyes—the pain like getting punched between the eyes.

She looked back at the beach, to see if Miki had seen her fail. But the flame-haired woman was gone, her footsteps retreating into the forest, already fading with each gust of wind.

Good. She thought. Now she could continue on without the embarrassment of being watched. She pushed off the sand again, found a semblance of balance in the water this time and attempted to find a rhythm of kicking and floating. Almost immediately, she was breathing hard and her muscles resisted her every stroke, but her eyes never left the limestone cliffs.

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