Page 42 of From the Mouths of Sirens

When the terror had worn away into a dull fear, Saoirse dared to open her eyes. They were now soaring high above the trees and speeding toward Mt. Thalia at an alarming rate. Gone was the Stone Circle and the tribute encampment that surrounded it. For as far as the eye could see, the azure sky enveloped her vision, streaks of purples and oranges creeping up along the horizon like the strokes of a paintbrush. Around them, fluffy tendrils of clouds had become tinged with pink in the setting sun. The scent of rain and lush greenery filled the air. Though her fingers still dug into Rook’s tunic for fear of falling, Saoirse was now enjoying herself. The sensation of flying was similar to that of floating with the tides of the sea. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine being suspended in the ocean, untethered to the earth. It was a place of in-between, a weightless state of freedom. Saoirse looked up at Rook, taking in the soft, appreciative expression on his face. She could see that he thought of flying the same way she thought of swimming. Though their realms were so different, they held them in the same regard. Saoirse couldn’t help but smile as the wind brushed her cheek and tugged on her tousled curls. Where she had imagined the breeze to be harsh and aggressive only minutes ago, she now thought it was playful and light.

She looked over Rook’s broad shoulders, watching the powerful movements of his wings as he navigated through the sky. The graceful sweep of his wings echoed his years of training with the Aerials, his muscled limbs perfectly toned with intense conditioning. Saoirse allowed herself to lean against him, clinging to him more out of curiosity than for self-preservation. He smelled of jasmine and cinnamon, with a touch of old parchment. She enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her, one hand braced against her back and the other tucked under her legs. Though she should’ve been appalled to be so close to the enemy, disgust was the last thing she felt in his arms. She frowned, disturbed at her reaction to the prince. He was simply another tribute, an enemy that she needed to conquer.

Regretfully, she lifted her head from his chest and tried to put as much distance between them as possible. It would do her no good to fall victim to his beauty and allure. She had so many reasons to keep Rook at arm’s length, the most important of which being Selussa’s bargain. Saoirse grimaced, a bad taste pooling in her mouth as she thought of the Sea Witch. Tournament be damned, if she didn’t fulfill her end of the bargain she wouldn’t be able to return to the Maeral Sea even if she won the Crown. She would be dead in Rook’s place.

Rook gently lowered them into a floating pavilion, slipping between elegant pillars of marble. A single gold chain tethered the pavilion to the city below, shimmering in the setting sun. Rook carefully lowered her down until her feet met marble stone.

Saoirse admired the stunning piece of Auran architecture, spinning in a slow circle so that the rays of light between each pillar filtered acrossher hair. Each pillar that encircled them was carved with expert detail, the little stone flowers and vines curling around them as if they were alive. Greenery snaked along the ceiling and hung from the rafters, creating a lush canopy of leaves and flowers above them. In the haze of the sunset, the pavilion was washed in buttery warm light, setting everything ablaze in gold.

“Will anyone see us up here?” Saoirse asked, wandering leisurely through the small structure. She stood against the railing, looking down at Coarinth below. They were so high that a few clouds crept along beside them, droplets of water clinging to the marble.

“No,” Rook assured her. “Only an Aerial flying by might glimpse inside, and even then, their view would be obscured by the plants,” he said, gesturing around to the beautiful vines that cascaded around them like a curtain.

“Thank you for indulginga lowly Mer princess," Saoirse finally said, leaning over the railing and admiringthe rolling mountains below. She could feel his intent gaze from her right, but she refused to turn. “I imagine talking to me is the last thing on your mind, especially with an uprising to manage.”

“My sister tends to those matters alone it seems,” he scoffed. “Raven never really intended me to rule alongside her I suppose.” He came to stand beside her, placing his strong hands on the ledge she leaned against. "I don't even know if I want the power she should be sharing, but siblings shouldn't belittle each other.” But even as he gave her a wry smile, his eyes were still guarded. They both knew that hostilities still remained between them, even if they had come to an understanding.

“I’m sorry Rook, I really am.” He smiled back, but it was shallow and forced. “I understand the weight you carry: to desire change yet to be denied the chance to try.” Her father's image flashed across her mind and her confidence vanished. “I…I want to understand the true darkness behind our conflict. I want to at least know what wrongs need to be righted." She knew them, yet she didn't. Saoirse wondered if he thoughther strange for asking. “I wanted to talk to you about our histories,” Saoirse continued slowly, choosing her words carefully. She didn’t want to accuse him or put him on the defensive. “The first trial has given rise to some… questions.” It was an understatement to say the least. She fidgeted with the sword at her hip, suddenly feeling nervous. “Being involved in this Tournament has made me more aware of the legacy of the War of the Age than ever before.” She paused, trying to find the right words. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want to understand why this is happening. I need to know why we are here, fighting for the Crown.” She trailed off, realizing how ridiculous her words sounded. Of course she knew why they were here. She had trained her whole life for the chance to win the Tournament. She above anyone knew the reasons why the Tournament was necessary.

“Forgive me,” she said, suddenly feeling foolish. “You must think I am some dull-witted Mer who never studied a history lesson in her life. I know why, but I don’t understand.” Her mind raced, trying to find the words that would fully encapsulate how she felt. She was on the precipice of something, grasping at frayed edges of a truth she couldn’t quite see.

"You don't mean history, do you?" Rook asked. “You wish to know the truth, without the twisting of politics or forced interpretation. You simply want to know what really happened.”

"Yes, exactly!” Saoirse spun around to face him, but he was deep in thought.

“I wish I could answer you, but despite my rank, my sister withholds truth from me,” he said. “But perhaps together we can discover what really happened.”

In that moment, Saoirse realized her plan had backfired. She wanted him to be hostile and close-minded. She wanted him to be the Auran monster everyone said he was. But here he was, offering her unparalleled honesty and vulnerability.

“It seems to me that we have very different interpretations of what occurred between our ancestors,” she began. “Perhaps we should start there.”

“You would be correct in that assumption, princess.” He crossed his arms and said, “Tell me what you think of Aurandel.”

Saoirse scanned his face, trying to read his expression. But his features were set in stone, stoic and indecipherable. “Would you push me off the edge of this pavilion if I were fully honest with you?” she asked. It was a very real possibility, even if she meant it as a joke. For a moment, neither of them said anything, only the whistling of the wind and the call of birds breaking the silence.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Rook replied after a beat of consideration. “Nothing could surprise me at this point. I already know that you think we are monsters.”

“Why do you say that?” Saoirse asked, gripping the pommel of her sword even tighter. She had no idea what his next words would be.

“Because that is what many of us think of your kind,” he told her bluntly. “Nothing you could possibly say would surprise me, even if you claimed that Aurans were monsters from the underworld. My people have said as much about yours countless times, and I know that isn’t true.”

“Fair,” she ventured to say, cocking her head curiously at him. This Auran prince was full of surprises. She took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak.

“Go ahead,” he told her. “Tell me what you think of my kind.”

“The Aura hold themselves in high regard,” Saoirse began. “Aurans believe themselves to be better than the rest of Revelore. Where the rest of us live below, you live high above in the sky,” she said, gesturing around. “You think Mer are so different from you. In your eyes, we are sirens from the deep, come to destroy and corrupt. But these assumptions could not be farther from the truth,” she added. The words spilled from her mouth, and she couldn’t stop. She kept going, voicing every last thought aloud: “One of your own killed my great uncle, an innocent man whose only crime was to love an Auran woman. Yrsa betrayed him, used him. And yet your people still deny that you had knowledge of Yrsa’s deceit. You are too cowardly to admit that Yrsa was given that assignment, too proud to admit that it was your scheming that caused the War of the Age and the proceeding Revelore Tournaments,” she breathed. “To declare Yrsa as a rogue free agent was truly cowardly. Aurandel betrayed their own daughter as much as they betrayed Elorshin. It is shameful.”

The air grew chilled in the pavilion, Saoirse’s words heavy in the air. She expected Rook to retort, to unsheathe his sword and stick the blade in her heart. But the Auran prince was silent, his mouth set in a firm line. He merely stared at her, his bright sapphire eyes assessing her with a penetrating gaze. The silence grew between them, evolving into a solid entity that hovered around them. She lifted her chin definitely, challenging him to prove her wrong, daring him to defend his people.

“You have proved all of my expectations of the Mer wrong,” Rook said wistfully, his black hair tousling slightly in the wind. “I will be the first to admit that, Princess Saoirse. The Mer are a proud people. From the look in your eyes, I can see that you would do anything for Elorshin. I respect that pride,” he assured her. “However, Yrsa was not directed by anyone to spy on Elorshin. My great grandfather, King Duris, did not assign her to that position, nor did he ever seek to sabotage your people through a fraudulent marriage. Yrsa was acting on her own accord. We never received any secrets from her, and we have no records of any correspondence with her at all.”

“What do you mean?” Saoirse asked skeptically.

“We never received any secret messages from Yrsa. There are no records indicating that she was acting as a spy at all.”

“But my great uncle uncovered her treachery,” Saoirse argued. “It is why she killed him.” None of this was making sense.

“I can only tell you what I have been taught,” Rook answered distantly. “Aurandel halted trade with Elorshin far before Lorsan was murdered. While we do not have records of any secret information passed to us from Yrsa, we do have several letters of correspondence between Lorsan and the rulers of Revelore.”

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