The day of the qualifiers is met with unfavorable weather, as a faint haze lingers in the air. Everyone agrees that today is not a good day for rituals.
A familiar voice speaks beside her.
Coach: These are only the qualifiers, so I don't expect you to set a world record or anything. Just perform decently well, and you'll be sure to make it through to the next round.
Coach: As long as you feel her on the floor, you'll be able to complete all the elements. Understand?
Charlotte: ...
The girl is too focused to speak. She gives a simple, vigorous nod.
Coach: Alright, go on then. Believe in yourself.
A warm hand pats her shoulder as she steps onto the floor.
As the music starts, the darkest five minutes of her youth begin.
???: Oh! Congratulations, Caroline, on your victory on the floor.
Caroline Bartley: Thank you.
Their voices are vague and distant, yet she cannot divert her attention from them.
Caroline Bartley: I must say, when I learned that Charlotte O'Hagan would be participating, I didn't expect to win first place, since we all know she's a world-class Floor Ritualist.
Charlotte: ...
???: Charlotte O'Hagan has finished in eighth, meaning she'll most likely miss the finals.
???: Floor Ritual has always had its roots in arcanum. If she's only here to compete for technical points, why doesn't she compete in another event?
Charlotte: Feck!
Caroline Bartley: I beg to differ.
Caroline Bartley: Charlotte is an outstanding player. If you had observed her performance closely, you wouldn't be making light of her efforts.
???: But she made a huge mistake. She didn't even complete the ritual segment of her routine.
???: There was a critical failure in the stability of her ritual. Didn't you see? The clouds she summoned poured rain all over the judges' heads!
There is scattered laughter throughout the venue.
Caroline Bartley: ...
Caroline Bartley: Sorry, sir, I will no longer answer any questions regarding Charlotte O'Hagan. I'm afraid your understanding of "sportsmanship" leaves much to be desired.
Charlotte: ...
Footsteps approach from behind her.
Coach: What's on your mind, girl?
A brief silence ensues.
Charlotte: N-Nothing. I want to go home.
She starts to lift herself up from her chair when a pair of hands presses her firmly back down.
Coach: Are you a coward?
Charlotte: O-Of course not.
Charlotte: I ... I don't want to be ... a coward.
She bows her head deeply, her tears forming little puddles on the backs of her hands.
Charlotte: But does it matter what I want? Will wanting to win a gold medal make it sprout wings and fly around my neck?
Charlotte: I can't control my arcane skill. No matter how strong I will it, the ritual energies won't heed my call. They just turned into wet clouds, and all I could do was stand there and watch them fly towards the judges' seats.
Charlotte: Maybe I'm not cut out for this sport. Maybe it's just like that reporter said, and I shouldn't even be here.
Coach: Listen, Charlotte.
The coach's voice pulls her back to reality.
Coach: No one said you shouldn't be here.
Coach: Do you know why you aren't able to perform the ritual?
Charlotte: Why?
Coach: Because you care too much about your score.
Charlotte: But ...
Coach: Come with me.
The garden is lush with thriving plants and blooming flowers.
Coach: Energy flows constantly through the air around us. You have to think of it as a friend dancing along with you. After all, who would want to dance with an imaginary enemy?
Coach: Close your eyes.
Coach: This isn't Uluru. The first thing you need to do is forget about the scoring rules.
Coach: Recite your prayer.
Charlotte: Eye of Day, Keeper of Balance. You are the Endless Well.
Coach: Go on. Don't worry about your pronunciation or delivery. Just imagine you're talking to an old friend.
Charlotte: Healing Sulis, shining Sulis, holy Sulis, to us, you tell.
She raises her right hand high in the air.
Coach: Feel her breath, feel her energy, feel all that she brings to you. Feel that primitive rhythm and flow, your emotions—that psychedelic rainbow of colors.
Charlotte: ...!
Charlotte: Something lifted my hand!
Coach: Flames are their dance, and wind their breath. Through wind and fire are we born, and by the rain are we swaddled.
Coach: Warmth and light they bring. So, why fear, pause, or stand by?
She chants, her voice aligned with some magnificent and ancient rhythm, and from the tips of her toes, a thousand shadows bloom like flowers.
Coach: Dance, Charlotte. Take my hand and dance.
She reaches out her hand in invitation.
Charlotte: The flames are their steps, and wind their breath.
She follows the movements, each step sinking into a rhythm.
Charlotte: Wind ... fire ... rain ...
Charlotte: I am not afraid ...
Charlotte: ...!
She clasps her cheek in shock.
Coach: What is it?
Charlotte: Something kissed me.
Coach: Keep dancing, Charlotte.
The woman releases her hand comfortingly.
Coach: You've already got a much better dance partner. Don't think too much. Just let her lead you.
The girl closes her eyes, raising her hand high in an ancient ritual.
Coach: It's a road destined to be lonely. Have you made up your mind?
Her voice is so quiet that it is quickly swallowed by the wind.
Charlotte: Healing Sulis, shining Sulis, holy Sulis, to us, you tell.
She arranges the catalysts in the dark of the room.
Charlotte: My best friend, Sulis.
She follows the guidance of an unseen force, her body gracefully flowing from one motion to the next.
The candles surrounding her flicker, and the sound of distant wind rattles through the room.
Kid III: What's going on with Charlotte these days?
Kid IV: She must be feeling pretty down right now, what with all her practicing for the competition and all. She hasn't played with us for ages, and her coach is just horrible.
Kid IV: Caroline told me her qualifier results were rather poor.
Kid IV: My mum says that when a friend feels sad, you should try to make them feel better. We should do something nice for her!
Kid III: I'm really worried she'll end up like Saoirse—Hey! What did you hit me for?
Kid IV: Stop talking rubbish!
The conversation outside continues, but Charlotte doesn't have the time to care. She feels Sulis's invitation to a realm beyond reality.
In her trance, she sees shining blades of grass and gem-like flowers blooming in the distance. Golden flames burn in the sky, the sun melting into the mountaintop.
Charlotte: Lugh, reborn from dark's embrace, I walk your path, in sacred space.
Charlotte: Life's end is death, but bones to life ascend!
*knock-knock-knock*
Kid III: Charlotte, are you in?
The ground trembles slightly. She looks at the distant golden light and feels something gently sting her ankle.
*knock-knock-knock*
Kid IV: Charlotte! Charlotte!
Charlotte: Oh!
The ground beneath her shakes violently, the shining blades of grass biting hard at her toes. She squats down in pain, watching bruises spread beneath her toenails.
Charlotte: Why? What's wrong, Sulis?
Kid III: That was Charlotte's voice. She's in there!
The ground trembles still. She frowns, impatiently waving away the flies buzzing around her ears. They're making her irritable.
Kid IV: Charlotte, open the door! We're worried about you!
The sky is dense with white clouds and the ground is oozing blood. Her feet are stricken with a sharp pain.
Charlotte: Enough! Stop bothering me!
The shining grass fades, and she pulls the door open.
COMBAT