Requiem stared at the woman sitting behind the principal’s desk. Her black hair had streaks of gray in it, and there were wrinkles around her large brown eyes. Other than that, she looked the same as she had in all of the interviews that Requiem had seen of her—Nizhóní Johnson, a past Champion of the Lunar Huntress.

Nizhóní’s eyes crinkled in the corners and she chuckled at Requiem, who realized that she was staring at the woman with her mouth agape like a dumb fish. She snapped her mouth closed, teeth clacking together, and she felt her face grow warm.

“Miss Palmer,” Nizhóní said, “please take a seat.”

Requiem tried to look graceful as she lowered herself into the chair in front of the desk, but there was too little room in the space. There was barely enough room for the desk, and the two ladies in the room were pressed rather close to the desk. She almost tripped as her foot got caught in the chair leg.

Nizhóní was looking at a paper, a report on Requiem, who could see her name through the thin paper.

“Good grades,” the older woman said. “Good attendance. It says you like being in clubs.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Requiem said, pressing her hands between her knees to stop herself from staring down at them.

“Excellent, excellent. Now I’m going to ask you to do something weird.”

When Nizhóní said that, she expected something worse than to turn around in her seat. There was no real reason behind that thought, but somehow the warning that the request was going to be strange was somehow more alarming than the request itself.

Requiem did as she was asked. She felt something heavy fall into her hand. The sounds of flowing water replaced the quietness of the principal’s office, and the scent of sweet flowers filled her nose. Frowning, she opened her eyes, but what she saw was not the principal’s office but something ridiculous: a giant lotus flower, pink with darker tips, and a woman sitting in the yellow center of it.

The woman wore a red hanfu dress with wide sleeves that trailed behind her. Her black hair was in an elaborate updo pinned in place by golden pins, and her lips and nails had been painted to match the color of her dress. She had a gentle smile on her face as she stared down at Requiem.

A quick scan of the surroundings showed Requiem that they were in the center of a pond, and Requiem stood on a long stone bridge. An enormous Chinese Gingko leaned over the pond. Its hand-fan-shaped leaves turning a bright yellow and falling onto the water. There were lotus flowers all throughout the pond—all normal-sized except for the giant one that the lady sat on.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my Champion,” the woman said in a soft, soothing voice.

Requiem’s heart paused for an uncomfortable second when she heard that.

“Champion?” she repeated.

“Yes, I have chosen you for the God Trials.”

Requiem stared at the woman, trying to comprehend what this all meant. The woman looked like the depiction of a Goddess that she had seen years ago. While the name eluded her, she did remember that it was a different culture’s portrayal of another god.

“Are You the Gleeful Fish?”

“I am.”

Requiem’s vision swam, and she felt light-headed. She tipped forward, and she fell against the stone railing of the bridge. Her legs shook as she struggled to keep herself upright. Something fell against the stone and rolled into her foot. When she looked at it, she saw that it was a white-glowing crystal wrapped in worn leather.

The woman gave a melodious laugh.

“My, it has been quite some time since I’ve gotten that kind of reaction from someone,” She, the Gleeful Fish, said. “Do be careful not to hurt herself. Although any injuries would not carry into the waking world, fortunately.”

“You chose me as Your Champion?”

“I did.”

“This means You think I’m greedy?”

More of that beautiful laughter came from the woman, who covered her mouth with the long sleeve of her dress.

“There will be plenty of time to understand the meaning of my choice later,” the Fish explained. “For now, you must train so that you may defeat me in battle and fulfill your duties as a Champion of the Gods.”

“Oh, but I—”

Requiem blinked, and she was staring at the back of the cramped principal’s office again. She turned in her seat, and she caught a yellow light in her eye. There was a leather-wrapped crystal in her hand, and it was responsible for the yellow light. Her eyebrows raised as she looked at it.

“What is this?” she asked the other Champion in the room.

“That is your Handle,” Nizhóní said. “It’s your Gods-blessed weapon.”

“Oh” was the only thing Requiem could think to say. Her heart was racing in her chest, and there was a restless energy bubbling in her belly.

“It seems you have caught the favor of the Gleeful Fish.”

Requiem nodded, gaping at the crystal in awe.

“All right. I’m going to need you to put that in a bag so we may ship it to your new location. Your principal will be here in a moment to escort you to another room, where you will be given some paperwork to read through. Be sure not to let anyone know that you’ve been Chosen. It’s for your own protection.”

Nizhóní held up a leather bag, and Requiem placed her magical weapon into it, wondering how in the world that thing was supposed to be a weapon.

***

Nizhóní was a reserved travel companion. Requiem had been privileged to have gotten to travel outside of her home country of Xaymaca, and she was used to having her rambunctious family and friends with her. It was welcome to have some silence as they flew to the Compound so she could think about everything that was happening, but it did put a strange tightness in her chest.

It would be quite some time before she got to see her family again if she ever did again.

Requiem had at least gotten to see the pride on their faces as she had told them the news. They had cried when it had been time for her to go, and they had made sure she knew how much they loved her.

It brought tears to her eyes now as she followed a rather energetic girl, named Dawn, to her new bedroom. Her new room was across the hall from Charlotte, or “Charley” as Dawn called her, and she would have to share a bathroom with Raffiela, which would not be a problem because she was quite used to sharing with her rather large family.

Her room was much bigger than she had expected it to be. All of the band and movie posters she had had at home decorated the walls, plus some brand new ones. There were many of her dad’s old records sitting on a shelf next to a brand new record player. She recognized some of the wood carvings her uncle sold as a hobby.

Dawn left her alone to get settled. She went to her father’s records and clutched a couple of them to her chest, and her throat tightened and eyes warmed as she sat on the bed with them.

The records had been such a point of pride for her father. They were old, old records, and some of them had the signatures of the artists scrawled on the sleeves. It was hard to believe that he had been willing to part with some of her favorites.

It was such a sweet gesture to have so many precious things there to help remind her of home.