Page 19 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“I suppose this is their way of telling us our feet are horrid,” Aurelia laughed, sitting down to assess the shoes. They were made of soft leather, laced in the front with silver thread. The boots were wider at the toes, custom-made to accommodate their webbed feet.

Saoirse slipped a foot in, immediately hating the unnatural confinement. Lacing up her boots, she sunk into the plush cushions and leaned back. She was already sore from the effort of walking on land. She gazed out the window, taking in the turquoise waters of the Maeral Sea beyond the beach. It shimmered in the light, undulating as if it were alive. It called to her, beckoning her to return.

The raeda jerked forward, sending Saoirse’s stomach twisting into knots. She clutched Aurelia’s hand as the beach and treeline blurred. They were moving impossibly fast, wind swirling through the open windows and tangling Saoirse’s curls. She couldn’t help but laugh as the carriage rose and lifted off the ground. She felt weightless, her abdomen churning with something she could only describe as light. The sensation of flying was similar to the feeling of rising through water, but there was something more terrifying and uncertain about it. She gasped when they began to ascend, rising above the trees and into wisps of clouds. Sune was cursing, his normally calm demeanor cracking as they rose higher and higher. Aurelia clutched her hand tighter, her knuckles going white. She shut her eyes tightly and grimaced as they continued to soar upward. But Saoirse’s eyes were open. Warmth and light filled the carriage as they soared through the sky. The Tournament was the farthest thing from her mind as she gazed out at the breathtaking view of the world below.

10

SAOIRSE

The capital city of Coarinth was more beautiful than Saoirse could’ve ever imagined. From the view of the flying carriages, the sunset was breathtaking. The sky was streaked with rich hues of purple and pink, the whisper of night on the edge of the horizon. She didn’t know what she had expected in coming to the capital of her nation’s greatest enemy, but it certainly wasn’t this. She understood now why many believed Mt. Thalia to be the birthplace of Revelore, the home of the Titans.

They sped over the city like a flock of birds, their raeda drivers expertly navigating the sprawling capital. Coarinth gradually sloped up the mountain, its roads leading up to the highest peak in all of Revelore: The Citadel of Aurandel. Saoirse marveled at the sky bridges that hung in the air, twisting like branches over the buildings below. The bridges connected to different doorways and towers through the air in a dance only known by those who inhabited the floating pavilions. Though she didn’t want to admit it, the innovation of the Aura was impressive. She wondered how the levitating buildings managed to float in the air without any legs or pillars. But even more impressive than the architecture were the winged people who soared through the clouds, seeming as weightless as birds. Several Aerials sped by their raeda carriages, weaving between the floating courtyards and open bridges with ease. Saoirse watched as the flying soldiers glided through the air, spinning and diving in a thrilling display of coordination and strength.

“Showing off,” Aurelia huffed, throwing a pointed glance towards Sune. “Are we supposed to be impressed? How tasteless.” Sune ignored her, merely brooding in the corner of the cabin with his arms crossed.

Their carriage soared towards the Citadel, the topmost circle of the city of Coarinth. Saoirse tried not to gape as they drew nearer to the highest building in Revelore. She had studied illustrations of the impressive structure in her lessons, but seeing it in person was another matter entirely. The Citadel was stacked in several tiers, each wing of the building leading up to the grand throne room at the apex. Saoirse recalled that the topmost hall of the Citadel was almost completely open, its floor to ceiling windows washing the throne room in sunlight as though directly connected to the heavens. As they flew closer, the Citadel slowly came into focus. Menacing spires of sandstone jutted out from the magnificent building, piercing through the clouds that shrouded it. Pristine, golden domes caught the light of the sunset, blazing like torches in the sky. The towering palace looked down on the rest of the world like a malevolent god in the heavens.

Saoirse hated that she felt a twinge of envy. Though Kellam Keep was impressive in its own right, the capital of Aurandel was displayed for all to see. There was no question about who held authority in Revelore.

Their carriages dove down to the lowest level of the Citadel, carefully navigating between sky bridges and levitating buildings. Saoirse clutched her seat, stifling a scream as they shot straight down and nearly clipped a building. She slammed her eyes shut as they plummeted towards the mountain, her body going weightless. The raeda carriage abruptly slowed just before it made contact with the ground, its wheels clattering along the street. The three of them jolted forward as the horses galloped across the stones. When they finally settled on solid ground, Saoirse opened her eyes.

The walls of Citadel loomed proudly before them. Ancient tangles of vines snaked up the walls, nestled between the stone as though they’d grown there for an eternity. She looked up, her eyes scanning each floor of the Citadel that rose through the clouds. Although the grand throne room at the very top was shrouded in mist and obscured from view, she still felt intimidated.

Their raeda carriages halted before the gates of the Citadel, rumbling to a stop. Ambassador Cresta suddenly appeared in the window, her eyes bright with pride. “I shall escort you to your rooms, now.”

The Auran woman opened their cabin door, gesturing for them to step outside. On unsteady feet, Saoirse carefully stepped out of the raeda. She felt lightheaded, her lungs struggling with the great change in elevation. She stood still and waited for the dizziness to dissipate.

“It's beautiful in a terrifying sort of way,” Aurelia said beside her. She was looking up at the Citadel, her turquoise eyes gleaming with admiration and wary caution.

The rest of their attendants and courtiers clamored out of their own carriages, unloading their trunks and lugging them to the gates of the Citadel.

Ambassador Vangelis strode over to them, seemingly unruffled by their rapid landing. “It is a bit disorienting your first time up here,” he apologized. “It takes a few days to get used to the altitude, but you’ll acclimate soon enough.”

“We have two days to acclimate,” Aurelia mumbled, grabbing a traveling case from one of the passing attendants. “Two days until we are fighting for our lives in the arena. I’ll be impressed if we can even walk upright, let alone spar with swords.”

“We’ll be fine,” Sune countered flatly. “We have titansblood to help us through. The elixir will help acclimate us quickly.” But despite his confidence, Sune was clearly winded and fighting breathlessness with each word. Aurelia rolled her eyes and shoved past him.

“Unfortunately, I must leave you to Cresta’s care for the time being,” Vangelis apologized. “I have a few matters to attend to in preparation for the banquet tonight. I shall escort you from your chambers in a few hours. In the meantime, I advise against wandering off to explore. Your legs are weak and your lungs are still adjusting.” He leaned in, lowering his voice to quiet whisper. “And you never know who might be lurking in the shadows, biding their time to attack.” With that harrowing statement, Ambassador Vangelis left them alone with Cresta.

“If you would please follow me,” the Auran woman ordered.

The three of them trailed after Cresta as she led them through the gates of the Citadel. Several Aerial soldiers melted out of the shadows and followed behind their party, their hands resting on the swords at their waists. Perhaps they were there to protect them, should some rogue Auran extremist decide to attack. Or perhaps it was to keep the Mer in check should one decide to wander off and sabotage the Tournament. Saoirse suspected it was the latter.

Cresta guided them through a stone archway and toward a separate wing of the Citadel. The impressive building was carved into the mountain itself, each level winding up higher into the clouds like a snake curved around rock. Cresta directed their servants and courtiers to an adjoining building to the north, while the four of them continued deeper into the mountain.

“It is traditional for every kingdom to be granted a wing of the Citadel. The Tellusun and Terradrin are being housed on the level above this one,” she informed them, gesturing upwards.

“Figures,” Aurelia whispered. It was unsurprising that the Mer would be granted the lowest chambers in the Citadel, tucked away from the rest of the visiting tributes like punished children.

“Your private chambers are deeper in the mountain,” Cresta told them. “You’ll find that your rooms are perfectly tailored to the unusual accomodations you require. I’m sure you’ll enjoy our hospitality, even if we are a bit more lavish than you’re used to.”

Every word from her mouth was measured and crisp, balancing somewhere on the edge of haughty and condescending. Saoirse couldn’t tell where the backhanded compliments ended and where her prejudice began. The Tournament Ambassador seemed unconcerned with hiding her hatred for Mer.

Cresta led them into a shadowed corridor, more of a tunnel than a hallway. As they descended into the mountain, the dry climate of the mountainside was replaced by a thick dampness that hung in the air. The stone walls were slick with condensation and mineral water. Familiar blue torchlight lit the way, casting the stone in a wash of pale blue.

“Undying flames,” Cresta told them when she noticed their expressions. “They burn even brighter up here than below the waves, you know. You didn’t think you were the only ones who enjoyed their eternal light, did you?” she asked haughtily. Aurelia murmured something under her breath, rolling her eyes at the ambassador’s remark.

They finally stopped in a stretch of empty hallway, three doors looming in the shadows. Each door depicted different scenes that were carved into the wood.

---