I inhale, the salty tang of the sea grounding me as I nod. “I’ll try.”
The admission hangs in the air between us. A fragile truce.
Raven offers me a small smile, one that reaches his eyes for the first time since he returned. It makes him look younger, more carefree, as the wind tousles his dark waves of hair, tangling them over his forehead. “That’s all I can ask for.”
I stare at him, surprised by the cautious optimism in his words. For once, I don’t have a quick retort or deflective comment. Instead, something shifts inside me, a small crack forming in the hardened shell I’ve built around myself.
We fall into a more comfortable silence, the tension between us easing, and I return to watching the twinkling lights as they grow more distant.
Raven rises to his feet as if preparing to leave, but he hesitates, turning back toward me.
“You’re facing the wrong way,” he says, his voice calm yet pointed.
I look up at him, confusion knitting my brow. “And what makes you think that?”
Before I can react, he swoops down, seizing my hand and pulling me to my feet. In a single fluid motion, he spins me away from the Sorrows, guiding me toward the nest’s railing and positioning me to face north. His warm breath grazes my cheek, sending a shiver coursing through me.
“Never focus on what’s behind you, Starling. The future holds too much promise to be ignored.”
He pauses for a moment longer, as if ensuring his words have taken root in my mind. When he finally leaves, granting me the solitude I had been yearning for, I’m left wrestling with the ache in my chest, straining to find the promise he claims to see.
When I wake on ourseventh and final day at sea, it’s to the warm rays of midmorning sun shining through the cabin porthole. Overhead, footsteps echo as the crew crosses the deck, and shouted commands seep through the floorboards.
The journey so far has been anything but predictable. The weather shifts constantly—one moment calm and serene, with blue skies and gentle seas, only to erupt into sudden chaos the next, with dark clouds and choppy waters tossing the boat like a toy. The initial nausea I felt when we left port has come and gone in waves, much like the sea itself. Nyssa, however, hasn’t been as fortunate, spending most of her time convalescing in our cabin, unable to find her sea legs amid the turbulence.
For the past several days of our journey, Myna has been running us through the etiquette of Vilea and its court. Although Nyssa and I learned of the different cultural and societal expectations of the four kingdoms at the Aviary, we jumped on the offer to make sure the protocols were fresh in our minds.
A somber atmosphere lingers over Alpha Flight, likely stemming from the prospect of approaching the land where they lost their former Flight Commander. No one has disclosed what led to Kestrel’s downfall, leaving the fate of one of the Aviary’s most legendary Nightwings shrouded in mystery. Though my curiosity burns deeply, I’ve chosen not to ask. Their guilt and grief are palpable, surfacing in unguardedmoments when they believe no one is watching. Despite it, they press on, driven by an unyielding compulsion to follow the commands of the order.
The ship bucks beneath me, jolting me from my thoughts as I stretch my cramped body and rub the sleep from my eyes. I crawl out of my small bunk, ducking under one of Nyssa’s feet where it hangs over the side of hers, and peer outside. Not too far off in the distance, the ocean crashes against jagged cliffs, and my old excitement for seeing the realm reignites like the sun emerging after a storm.
Turning in the small space, I shake Nyssa’s foot to wake her. She groans, pulling her blankets farther over her head.
“Go away. You’re not a queen yet.” The words come out muffled from within her burrow.
“It looks like we’re heading into the Sarathros. You know you’ll regret it if you don’t come and see.”
She throws her blankets off and fixes me with a glare that would freeze a lesser woman in place. Instead, I offer her a dazzling smile before pulling on my clothing and braiding my hair back from my face. Nyssa finally climbs down from her bunk and gets ready, grumbling under her breath the whole time.
When we emerge from the deck below, the view we’re greeted with takes my breath away.
Jagged cliffs loom above us like two ancient sentinels guarding the kingdoms. The serrated rocks rise from the depths of the ocean, black and menacing against the pale dawn. Wind howls through the crevices, creating an eerie symphony that carries to where we stand, as insignificant as ants before great earthen deities.
To the left, the cliffs of Eretria ascend into a sweeping mountain range, curving along the northern edge like a natural fortress. Twisting paths and shadowy caves mar the black stone, tempting me with the many secrets they promise to hide. Perched on the cliffs of Arkhadia’s coast, the Estos Lighthouse stands tall, a steadfast guardian overlooking the sea. Behind it, the landscape continues to climb, rising into the Thalkans, their peaks vanishing beneath a veil of clouds. Right down the center, the ocean flows through the mouth of the Sarathros.
From the maps I’ve seen of the kingdoms, I know this is the narrowest part of the passage; the easternmost points of the land on either side of the break stretch toward one another. There is an almost melancholy feel to it, like two star-crossed lovers torn apart and doomed to watch the other for the rest of time. Forever reaching out but never able to close the distance.
“Morning, ladies!”
Nyssa and I tear our eyes away from the view and turn to where Captain Nikolas stands at the helm.
“Captain,” Nyssa greets him with a flutter of lashes and a coy smile, and I work hard not to roll my eyes. Despite spending most of the time on the ship with her head buried in a bucket or hanging overboard while she hurls her guts up, she’s still managed to find the energy to flirt. My friend is relentless.
“You’ll want to find something to hold on to!” Nikolas calls. “It’s a bit of a wild ride heading into the Sarathros.”
Rather than risk being tossed overboard, we head up the stairs to join him at the helm. The water has grown rough and choppy, making it difficult to keep my footing, but I take hold of the railing on the upper deck and plant my feet wide. Nikolas flashes us one of his trademark smiles before giving his full attention back to the wheel.
Facing forward again, I catch sight of the remnants of a building far in the distance, nestled in the mountains lining the cliffs of Arkhadia. Even in its state of ruin, there is something so profoundly captivating about its forgotten beauty, I’m unable to look away. From this distance, I can make out the crumbled stone walls, glimmering in the light that manages to pierce through the veil of clouds.
