Turning Tides

Chapter Nine: Go With the Flow

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 natural—she 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 helpful—more embarrassing really."

Malia shrugged. "That's just what happens in movies and stuff, just before some kind of training montage." She paused. "Movies are—"

"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 it—at 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 frown—no, 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."