Starsinger

Lisha

The brass gates of Lisha were propped wide like welcoming arms. A formidable wall of garnet-pocked shale had once protected the city from invaders, but when the Piscali troops swept north to claim the warring territories of Zareyma as their own, they'd battered and blasted the wall to rubble. Lisha had since grown beyond those borders, and the few remaining piles of dark stone served only as a loose division between the wealthy inner city and its poorer outcroppings.

But the great brass gates remained, polished to a shine, a grand entrance to an already-open world. It should have felt comical, Aaron thought, walking through the towering gates when they could easily have walked around. But still there was a strange authority in an open door with no walls.

Weeks of on and off rains had left their clothes grimy, with mud caked on their boots and trousers and a dampness that had burrowed into their bones. The city paid them no mind, rushing over and past them like a river over a stone. People called across the street from the high windows of boarding houses and shop guilds, shouted at stock animals slowing in the road and snapped at children threatening to break free of their parents' strict hold. Inlets criss-crossed the city, spanned by gleaming Old World bridges grown from chalcedony and tourmaline. Salt spray wore the arched stones down until they were smooth as glass, but the people of Lisha streamed carelessly over the glimmering pink and green and blue surfaces, unawed.

Delia walked at a backward incline to take everything in, her eyes going wider and wider as they moved toward the center of the city. The town around the Luminarium had been a haphazard settlement, an overgrown village. Lisha was a true city, nearly as big as Ellanoi, and nothing the mage had ever seen before.

"People built this?" she demanded, eyes roving up and down the city buildings that loomed over each side of the street. "Without magic?"

Jace quirked a smile. "With nothing but wood and stone and sweat."

"Some blood," Aaron added.

"And not a small amount of coin," said Raelyn.

Delia shook her head. "How do they keep from falling?"

Jace made a sweeping gesture. "Behold the might of ordinary humanity."

"We are all born of stardust," Raelyn said.

Delia shot the princess a grin. "Is that a twinge of Faith I hear?"

Raelyn rolled her eyes. "A twinge."

Aaron watched the princess closely. Ever since she'd discovered that vlynnkhora meant starsinger, Raelyn had been strangely quiet. She had wished for history, a past to pair with her destiny, and now she had it. Starsingers were one of the oldest stories of the Faith, warriors sent by the gods to protect the starborn from darkness. They could hear the Song of the stars, the music of life itself, and the power they wielded followed none of Delia's carefully articulated rules for mages. Legends had made the starsingers into spirits, for how could human creatures possess such impossible strength? Another truth lost to time. Aaron thought of the tales his mother had whispered to him and his sisters before bed. Starsingers were said to roam the night, shielding brave children from nightmares. Wise kings heeded their counsel, ferocious monsters fell to their blades. Even the shadows themselves, ancient enemies of the gods, learned to fear the wrath of the starsingers. For the rest of their journey to Lisha, their team had traded stories of starsingers over the campfire each night while Raelyn took careful notes, searching for hidden meanings or clues to the course of her destiny. This legacy was a heavy one – Rae had gone from having no history to having too much.

Jace led them carefully over a bridge grown from melon-colored geode and into a middling neighborhood, searching for a boardinghouse that looked more or less reputable.