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Scales & Shadows I2: City of Red Coral
🕑 Added 2023-05-15 00:10:45 +0000 UTCA/N: This one's a pretty short interlude, but I hope there's some fun setting stuff in here, and a few sneaky hints as well!
Descending through thin, wispy clouds, Phaeliisthia fought against the winds of the Northern Current as the land and shining sea below came into view. Somewhere far to her left, north up the long, undulating coastline, rose the hills of the Cape of Uzin. Ess’Sylantziis lay to the east of the cape, near the edge of the flooded region around the Hssyri’s immense delta. Further east and north, her adoptive home of Uzh still slept in the predawn light. Nearby, her students were tucked safely away, protected by their anonymity and Phaeliisthia’s sigils both.
To Phaeliisthia’s right, to the south, lay the drier, subtropical forests and meadows of Highwater Province, the eldest home of the elves. Beyond the province’s rugged hills lay its inland basin and the great Lake of the Clouds whose glittering surface the ancient Guardian of Uzh could see in her mind’s eye. Looming above, and nearly visible through the haze of midday, the imposing Sekalnn Mountains rose high above the clouds, their rocky peaks permanently ensconced in ice.
Directly below her, in the shadow of these giants and the hills surrounding them, and robbed of moisture by the strong northern winds, the savannah of the Coral Coast stretched its yellow-brown canvas from horizon to horizon. The water’s edge sliced across the expanse, broken otherwise only by the large river below and the huddled clusters of the towns along its banks.
At the mouth, where dry yellow met glittering, pearlescent blue, lay the primarily-elven city of Sanasiilath. Flying lower still, Phaeliisthia could see ships in the harbor, some daring ones even sporting foreign designs, a sign of the already weakening isolationism of Jii’Kalaga.
But this beautiful city and its endless savannah were nothing compared to the water which it could not reach. Out beyond sand striated with reds, pinks, and whites, lay the immense reef that played guardian to this vast flat coastline. In what could almost be described as an eddy compared to the strong northerly current further east into the Great Northern Ocean, corals of vibrant hues thrived. Millenia of growth, death, and rebirth had created a reddish reef that teemed with life. One that stretched, like the savannah it bordered, from horizon to horizon.
A channel lancing from the river’s mouth impacted the reef and wormed its way through like an immense, shimmering blue coral snake. Even now, a ship drifted lazy down its length, passing structures built up above shallower areas or along the green-brown tufted islands that dotted the reef.
Along this channel, filling the inside of a natural, deep hole in the reef and spilling outwards into the reds, pinks, oranges and more, lay the city of Amaranth, free city of the merfolk.
Though their kind had other settlements, none were so grand as Amaranth: a shining jewel and a hub for trade. Ships used the watery skies above the city itself as a harbor, fringed on three sides by a sliver of dry sand packed tight with buildings almost as red as to be indistinguishable from the coral below.
Aside from the compromise of a widened channel for shipping, the city was built to be a living part of the reef—and the coral surrounding it was as bright and vibrant as anywhere else. Though she was too high to see them, she knew the waters teemed with fish. The merfolk themselves regulated fishing in the region, their authority backed with the threat of a watery demise.
Few dared try, however, as many of the fish were poisonous to both elves and foreign species alike. And it was the safety of this harbor, the only one for several horizons, that ensured Amaranth’s continued independence. That, and the very real threat of sunken ships to those who would cross the reef’s residents.
Not that Jii’Kalaga would be able to easily take or hold such a city, Phaeliisthia thought with some satisfaction. While Amaranth was no home to her, the beauty and symbiosis of the city always held a special place in her heart. Even as the beast of the empire lay dormant, such a shining symbol of otherness so close to its borders sent a pleasant thrum through Phaeliisthia’s wing feathers.
The Guardian of Uzh respected Jaezotl, and his ways. She held no illusions, however, that the Temple, Hssen, and Ussen may twist those ideals, or allow exceptions of convenience. So long as they did not go too far, Amaranth had nothing to fear.
And thus, as she drew closer, Phaeliisthia gave a small prayer to Jaezotl:
May those in power keep the Serpent God’s truths to heart, and not force them on those who may believe in others. For such strife between mortal followers of the gods is ever the catalyst for celestial conflicts.
Never again.
By now, Phaeliisthia had dipped low enough that her sharp eyes picked out schools of fish in the water, and she could see her own winged shadow as it raced across the waves. Aiming for a gap between ships in the harbor channel, Phaeliisthia pulled her wings up to slow her descent before angling her feet into a dive.
Her gold-taloned hands traced a quick succession of sigils and she felt warm magic wash over her from her ivory-capped horn tips to the talons on her toes. She barely even heard the shouts of nearby ships’ crews as she plunged into the channel like a blowdart into the flank of a great beast.
Warm water rushed around her in a comforting embrace, and Phaeliisthia opened her eyes to a bright pastoral world of reds, tinted in vibrant blue. No fish greeted her, as the few who dared the channel scattered upon her impact.
With a toothy grin, and a wave aimed at the sailors staring down through the clear water from passing decks above, Phaeliisthia shifted her wings away and began to swim lazily toward the outskirts of the city. In a particular home, she would find a particular woman—an old friend. Old in a relative sense, for it was with the woman’s ancestors that Phaeliisthia first treated.
Their family knew the history of the gods better than any, unbiased as they were through their own unique asceticism. If anyone may know what manner of deity, or what unfortunate being clutching at divinity, the progenitor of Issa’s curse might be, it would be Rauni Swiftcurrent.
More importantly, she would know who it wasn’t and where in the vast world further information may be found. A smile broke across Phaeliisthia’s face. History, and a long swim through a wondrous underwater world: what a lovely vacation this would be!
