Page 45 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“Whatever happened yesterday is in the past,” Veila offered as they continued down the ancient staircase. “We focus on this trial and then figure out the rest. Right now, we put our minds to whatever awaits us in the arena and nothing else.”

“Of course,” Rook replied flatly, trailing behind Ambassador Cresta as she led them into the final chamber. Rook didn’t think being in the dark corridor surrounded by metal cages would ever get easier. Centuries of memory were housed within each rusted cell, locked away to time and forgotten by nearly everyone. Perhaps one day his name would be the only thing that preserved his memory, a name that children studied with their tutors.

“Welcome to the second trial, tributes,” Cresta told them as she unlocked the final cell. With a hollow smile, she gestured for them to step inside.“May glory be given on this day,” she said when the three of them huddled into the cell. She gave them a sympathetic grimace as she locked it behind them. “You’re nearly there, just one more trial after this one.”

Rook felt nothing but cold resolve burning through his limbs, his skin prickling with fear as he felt the floor beneath them begin to rumble. There was nothing reassuring about what they were about to do. Veila put a hand to his shoulder, looking up at him. There was certainly fear in her green eyes, but there was also a glimmer of unwavering strength. She gave him a nod and squeezed his shoulder as if to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

Rook looked up at the ceiling, anticipating the slow rise into the arena like the first trial. He shut his eyes, preparing for the harsh daylight to flood their cell. However, theplatform began to sink instead of rise, slowly falling into the earth below the arena.

“Hel’s teeth,” Eros cursed as the floor began to lower into the tunnel. “We are going down.”

Rook braced himself as the platform tunneled into the earth, descending deeper than he had thought possible. Eros and Veila’s eyes were wide as the darkness swallowed them whole, the faint torchlight from above slowly dissolving into pitch black. The growl of stone grinding against stone and their own breaths were the only sounds to be heard in the darkness.

“There’s no light,” Veila whispered. But just as she uttered the words, a soft glow began to illuminate the tunnel. The faint light came from their uniforms, a self-generated glow that emanated from within.

“Avgi silk,” Rook recalled, remembering that their clothing had been woven from the spider’s silk. He looked at the glowing fabric on his chest and trouser legs, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“We will be able to see each other,” Eros noted wearily, “but what else will be able to see us in the dark? We stand out like candles in the night.”

His words echoed through the tunnel as they continued to lower into the earth. Eros was right. They were like beacons standing against a night sky, drawing the attention of whatever beasts might be lurking below. The platform abruptly stopped, depositing them into an enormous cavern. Save for the faint dripping of water, the cave was utterly silent and devoid of any sound from the world high above. Just as the tunnel had been, the cave was as dark as night. Rook dared to step from the platform, the soft glow of their uniforms just barely making the room visible. The cavernous space was enormous, tunneling around them for as far as the eye could see. Huge stalactites dripped down from the ceiling, shining with water that leaked down through the ground. Mineral formations rose up like the shadows of strangers and loomed ominously in the dark. Puddles of water gathered in the rivets of the stone floor, glinting with the reflection of their Avgi silk uniforms.

Never had Rook felt so trapped before, so caged in. There was no glimpse of the sky, nowhere to escape. Their wings were useless down here. The darkness was suffocating, the air thick and putrid with the stink of rotted earth.

“I had no idea this was down here,” Veila whispered, following Rook as he wandered through the chamber. “It looks like an abandoned mine,” she observed.

“I think these caves are natural, not built by anyone,” he replied, narrowly avoiding a stalactite that hung in front of him like an icicle. “These caves must be ancient.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Eros called out from behind them, cursing as he splashed through a puddle. “We’ve been given no direction.”

As if on cue, the Master of Trials herself began to speak. Korina Petrakou’s disembodied voice filled the cave and echoed around them.

“Welcome, honored tributes,” Korina’s eerie voice called. How she could project her voice in the damp caves, Rook couldn’t fathom.“You are now ready to compete in the second trial of the Revelore Tournament,” she continued. “Each one of you has been given a uniform that can aid your sight underground. You are tasked with collecting a stone that glows similarly to that of your uniform,” she said. “This glowing stone should be brought up to the surface whole and in-tact. As a team of tributes, you must protect this stone at all costs.” Rook scanned the cave in search of the stones she spoke of, but he was met with onlya constant, unending blanket of darkness.

“There are four exits, each with a ladder that will lead you up into the arena on the surface,” she continued on. “You must climb out with your stone, or else you will be disqualified from the Tournament. There is only one ladder available to your team, indicated by your country’s banner. If you fail to climb up the ladder assigned to your nation, you will be disqualified. May glory be given,” she finally said, her voice vanishing abruptly.

“Alright,” Veila said matter-a-factly. “Let's find this bloody stone and get it over with.” she charged forward, leading them through the cave.

“I’m sure the Terradrin are thriving down here,” Eros grumbled as they trekked through the cavern. “They can see better in the dark than in the daylight,” he scoffed. “And here I was thinking no one would have any advantages.”

“Don’t worry about the other tributes,” Veila scolded, “just focus on the task at hand.”

Unease crept along Rook’s skin like the cool breath of winter as they hurried down the sloped pathway. Though they were already farther underground than he had ever thought possible, the slanting rock under their feet descended even deeper into the earth. As they journeyed through the dark, Rook noticed eerie markings on the stone walls. He slowed for a moment, surveying the crude drawings that littered the corridor. The faded paint strokes and charcoal on the cave walls were faded and worn, almost imperceptible in the darkness. Giant-like figures towered above smaller figures, clutching enormous weapons in their great hands.

Titans, Rook recognized, his gaze sweeping over the images of the gods. He identified Deinos, the mad Titan who had ruled from the peak of Mt. Thalia, his wings unfolding across the stone in smeared strokes. It was said that the four Titans had created the nations of Revelore at the dawn of time, each one crafting unique beings in their own image. These primitive drawings had to be thousands of years old. He couldn’t recall the last time someone in Aurandel had worshiped the Titans or studied their ancient lore.

“Hurry,” Veila ordered from up ahead. “Stop gawking at the scenery.”

Rook reluctantly pulled his eyes away from the artwork and joined up with Eros and Veila. They continued down the craggy passageway, stringy cobwebs clogging the crevices of the stone path and hanging in clumps from the ceiling. Rook stared up at the ancient tangles of webbing, wondering how long they had sat undisturbed in the deep caverns. Faint light up ahead caught on the sticky webs, making the silken strands appear wet. Distantly, he could hear voices whispering in the shadows.

“Tributes,” he hissed, ducking behind an overhang. Eros and Veila crouched behind a stalagmite that grew upward from the ground, vanishing from sight. The soft light from the other tributes’ uniforms cast a murky glow on the cave wall, their shadows growing larger as they drew near. Rook squinted in the darkness, trying to glimpse the warriors ahead. Though they were difficult to make out, he recognized the two Tellusun tributes as Ramin Naseeba and Noora Mir. They clambered over the jagged ridges of the cave floor, their faint orange cloaks whispering over rock as they hurried through the cavern.

“They found the stone already,” Veila whispered. Sure enough, a large glowing rock was nestled underneath Noora’s arm, emanating a deep blue light.

“Hel, that was fast,” Eros cursed, shaking his head.

Rook watched as the Tellusun tributes sprinted through the cave, leaping over puddles with frantic footsteps. He stared at their expressions, shadowed in the dark. There was something wrong with their hurried, jerky movements. It was not urgency that drove them through the cavern, but terror. A prickle of fear ran up Rook’s spine as the tributes vanished around a corner, their faces tense with unnamed fear. After a few moments, their frenzied footsteps melted away, replaced by the numbing silence of the cave.

“Let’s go,” Veila whispered, rising from where she crouched. “The other stones must be close by.”

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