On one hand, the news of ghouls was terrifying, and memories of their scarlet eyes dredged up the occasional nightmare for Malia.
At the same time, they were a physical obstacle, and those were much easier to tackle than metaphorical ones. It didn't take long for Malia to renew her resolve, and she focused on honing her abilities to combat the ghouls as well.
Alas, she was a researcher with degrees in engineering and no extracurricular activities under her belt. Fighting, or any type of athletics, was not her forte. She knew that right off the bat, but she still had to try.
That was why Beatrice found her struggling to punch a floating clump of seaweed in the park.
"Do I want to know what the algae did to offend you?" she asked.
Malia stumbled slightly at Beatrice's unexpected arrival, but she caught herself just in time to make her motions seem naturalâshe hoped. At the same time, the seaweed slowly drifted to the sandy park floor, no longer lifted by Malia's abilities.
"It's been giving me weird looks ever since I got here," Malia said. "Figured it was about time we settled things."
"Hm."
Beatrice glided over to her as smoothly as ever; she didn't even bother to glance at the seaweed ball as she brushed it away with a swift current.
"You're not going to learn anything that way," she said, and while her tone was as impassive as ever, her bright blue eyes didn't have the same heat as they did when they first met. "Just like the water is always moving, so is your opponent. And making seaweed dance on your own is far from reality."
Malia frowned. That much had been obvious, but she hadn't wanted to ask Beatrice for help. Doing so was asking to be publicly humiliated, and Malia was stubborn enough to commit to self-studying.
"I'm guessing this is where you tell me to fight you, and I fail miserably because our skill levels are just that different, and I still have so much to learn?"
Beatrice narrowed her eyes. "Is that what mortals normally do? That doesn't sound very helpfulâmore embarrassing really."
Malia shrugged. "That's just what happens in movies and stuff, just before some kind of training montage." She paused. "Movies areâ"
"I know what movies are." Beatrice sighed. "Just because I live underwater doesn't mean I'm completely clueless about modern mortal culture. I still hear things."
"Have you heard of streaming yet?"
"What do streams have anything to do with movies? Or, as some people say, films?"
Malia couldn't help itâat Beatrice's genuine seriousness, she laughed. While it was more like a stifled chuckle, it felt oddly unfamiliar and relieving at the same time.
"Sorry," she quickly said to Beatrice's frownâno, pout. "How about I tell you about streaming if you teach me how to do this?"
Thankfully, Beatrice's irritation only lingered for another few seconds before she relented.
"What makes ghouls dangerous is their hatred for us," she said. "If they get too close, they are willing to do whatever they can to end us. Therefore, we cannot let them get close."
"I remember you doing something like that," Malia said, trying her best to actively listen. "You used the water to push them back, right?"
Beatrice nodded. "Exactly. But it's not the same as using water to move inanimate objects or even mortals. Ghouls were spirits at one point, and thus, they still have a connection with the water. Luckily for us, it's not a strong one."
Beatrice raised her feet so that she was floating almost parallel to the ground. "We can use the water to do our bidding; if anything, the most they can do is swim. Thus, if we push away the water they're in, they can't do anything but go with it. Let's try it. I'll imitate them, and you try to use the water to push me backwards."
Malia smothered her nerves with a stiff nod before extending her energy towards the water between them. She felt the water's power mix with her own, and when she pushed against it, she could have it push her back, just as she had always done to swim. Now, she just had to direct that force in the opposite direction.
Or she could just wing it.
That was her last thought before she went flying backwards, only stopping when she felt a strong current pulling her back.
"Are you alright?" Beatrice exclaimed, looking down at her.
At some point, Malia ended up sprawled out on the sand, and she meekly accepted Beatrice's offered hand.
"Yeah," Malia groaned, hoping her green skin wouldn't show how warm her face was. "I applied the force in the wrong direction."
"What?" Beatrice asked, then shook her head. "I suppose if you can't understand my language, it makes sense that I can't understand yours."
"I'm thinking of it in terms of physics," Malia said, already mentally restraining herself to keep from rambling. "When I swim, I imagine the water as this immovable force pushing against me, like a wall; the more force I apply to it, the stronger force it returns." She shrugged, slightly self-conscious. "It's probably dumb, but it's been sort of working for me, I guess."
"Why is that dumb then?" Beatrice asked. "If it makes sense to you, then it's smart. Even if it didn't work, your reasoning makes senseâpossibly. You're a smart woman, Malia. Trust your instincts."
While Beatrice slowly resumed her horizontal floating position, Malia was still comprehending her words.
"Try again," Beatrice said. "Take your time; there's no hurry."
Just when Malia thought she absorbed Beatrice's last statement, the woman had to throw another curveball at her. She hadn't realized how much she had been rushing, and for Beatrice to point it out? Even if Malia didn't want to believe that she could take her time, Beatrice's voice made her inclined to.
So she did. She felt the energy in the water between them and gently pushed against it; it pushed back. But she wanted the force to act in the opposite direction... What if she pulled instead of pushed?
Malia tugged gently at the water; Beatrice's loose hair fluttered backwards.
"Not bad," Beatrice said, likely having no idea how much those two words sent a wave of relief through Malia's mind. "It seems like your language is working just fine for you."
"I can do better," Malia insisted, even though it could very well be a lie.
"It's also fine if you can't. No one expects you to be proficient at everything."
Malia knew that was a lie, but she buried her opinion in favor of proving her own statement to be true.
Again, she felt the water's energy, then pushed a little to get used to the sensation. When she encountered resistance, she began to pullâthis time, she held it.
Across from her, Beatrice's hair fluttered gently before slowly picking up speed. Several seconds later, her hair was flapping wildly, but Beatrice herself remained in place. So Malia persisted.
And then, at last, Beatrice inched backwards... just before Malia lost her hold on the water, and she flew back as well.
"You did well," Beatrice said as Malia furiously picked herself up. "Once you get accustomed to the sensation, you just need to practice."
"I don't think it's that simple," Malia grumbled as she swatted the sand from her clothes. "Pushing against the water is one thing; pulling at it is another. It's like... by having the water pull against me, I'm sending it out of my reachâlike a rope slipping out of my hands."
"Pulling the water? I can't say I know what you're talking about, I'm afraid."
Honestly, Malia wasn't so sure herself. Still, she couldn't give up so easily, especially with Beatrice waiting for her. If she wasn't getting the hang of it naturally, she had to force herself to do so.
So she tried again. And again. And she continued to try even as the day's patrols returned home and the city came alive with their presence. She persisted even when the buzz throughout Okeanos died down, and spirits returned to their homes for the night.
And still, Malia did no more than slowly push Beatrice away.
"I know you don't want to hear this," Beatrice said as Malia dredged herself out from the sand once more, "and I'm certain that you won't listen, but perhaps we could continue tomorrow."
She was rightâMalia didn't want to hear that, nor was she going to listen. But Malia couldn't say that, especially not after Beatrice sacrificed so much time to help her.
"You can head back," Malia wearily said instead. "I still need to work on the basics."
Beatrice sighed, and even after hours of doing so, it still lacked its original heat. "Malia, you don't have to keep pushing yourself like this. You need rest. For all you know, you actually can do what you need to, but you've been wearing yourself so thin that you can't even think properly anymore."
Malia massaged her stiff shoulders as her mind struggled to absorb Beatrice's words.
Could that be the problem? Had she really stopped thinking? That would be stupid of her though; thinking was the thing she was best at, even though the results were usually questionable.
In retrospect, maybe Beatrice had a point. For hours, Malia had been so focused on one task that she forgot to think about anything else, including the most important thing: what if there was another way?
Malia sat down and ran her hands through the sand as if searching for an epiphany buried within.
First, her original problem: she needed to learn how to keep ghouls away. Beatrice said they still had some control over the water, but if Malia could push that water away, the ghouls could only helplessly float away with it.
Which led to her second problem: Malia struggled to move that much water. Maybe she was going about it the wrong way, or maybe she just wasn't strong enough. Whatever the reason, she needed to find a different method. She needed to think. And she needed something to get her brain going.
"How do you normally move people?" Malia suddenly asked.
"Mortals?" Beatrice asked, a little surprised. "Like that fisherman? I suppose I imagine the ocean wrapping gently around them and guiding them to where they need to be."
Malia took a few seconds to process that information. "That's not helpful at all."
Beatrice's resulting sigh was a hint closer to her usual levels of annoyance. "I told you already, we're speaking different languages."
"And you said you swim by talking with the water, right?"
"I'm not going to keep helping you if you mock me like that."
"I'm not! I'm just trying to figure out what's getting lost in translation."
Malia turned back to the sand and her mind continued to churn. "It's like... you're able to speak to the entire ocean."
She pressed her palm flat into the sand; when she removed it, the outline remained.
"And I... I can only focus on a small part of it."
She stuck her finger into the center of her palm print, leaving a deep hole behind.
And then she realized: it was all about pressure.
Pressure was the applied force over a certain area. Perhaps Beatrice and other spirits could apply large forces over large areas. If Malia tried to apply a lesser force over the same area, the resulting pressure would only be enough to, say, move a few hairs. While it was frustrating that she didn't have the same strength, that wasn't something she could change on such short notice. What she could change was her technique; she needed to apply force to a smaller area.
She sprung up from the sand, her heart racing in anticipation like it would do when she made a breakthrough in her research. "Let's try again! One more time! Or maybe two, I don't know, but can I just try again? Please?"
Whatever showed on her face made Beatrice respond with silent shock, and it was a few seconds before she snapped out of it with a slow nod.
When Beatrice returned to her position, Malia focused on the waterâno, on some of the waterâand pulled as hard as she could. And while Beatrice moved back a little further than before, it wasn't nearly enough. But Malia wasn't done yet.
"Sorry, can I try again?" Malia asked.
"Of course. But you don't have to apologize."
Malia simply nodded before she could say sorry again.
She had forgotten about a simple thing like pressure, so there were bound to be other things wrong with her methods, pulling instead of pushing being one of them. That was the method she used to make herself swim, but when she controlled other things, such as the fisherman, it was different. In those instances, she felt like she was applying the force directly to them, and the water was just a medium.
But Beatrice had said that ghouls had some control over water. If that was the case, would treating them like a regular person even work? Malia initially hadn't thought so, but she never tested the theory. There was only one way to find out.
She directed her energy through the water, taking care to only cover a small area like before. She pictured Beatrice as another human, like the fisherman, and she was desperate to move her to safety. She needed her to live.
So she held on; Beatrice's eyes widenedâjust before she went soaring backwards through the water.
"I did it!" Malia squealed, stopping short when her voice echoed throughout the quiet city, then again when she realized how far she had thrown Beatrice.
By the time Malia swam up to her, Beatrice had steadied herself again, but she watched Malia with wide eyes.
"Are you okay?" Malia asked, visually scanning her for any signs of injuriesâassuming they were external. "Did I hurt you?"
"I'm quite alright," Beatrice said, her expression still concerning. "You did, however, surprise me."
Malia's worry was replaced by tentative hope. "Really?"
"Really." At last, Beatrice gave her a small smile. "I had only imitated a ghoul's connection to the water, but it was still of decent strength. And you managed to sever that connection with one attack. Granted, your method was slightly more direct than what I imagined, but perhaps that was what you needed. Perhaps... that was your language."
Suddenly, she placed a hand on Malia's shoulder, and Malia froze, not wanting that feeling to leave her.
"Well done, Malia," Beatrice said.
The warmth of her words and voice filled Malia's heart with inexplicable joy, and Malia couldn't help but smile as well. "Thanks."
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