The swim toward the bottom of the shaft was pretty uninteresting, apart from the curious sensation of breathing water. It was just stone walls upon stone walls. I idly wondered if Triton’s blessing also made us immune to deep sea sickness, but I could only hope that it was.
The children plan was simplistic, but effective. Go back to their city, show their new affiliation, get those in charge to open the dome. They assured us that the road was safe, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness I had, that going so deep under the surface was not a natural thing. Even Audrey seemed a bit down, but maybe it was because Giiru refused to come with us, arguing that his current body was too weak for him to be of any use down there, apart from slowing us down.
As I caught sight of something remotely luminous in front, Flobul hailed us.
“We’re going to enter the dome itself. There’s a lot of pretty things down there, but a lot of dangerous things too. Don’t touch anything brightly colored, and be as quiet as possible.”
Our faces must have been pretty expressive, because the young mermaid sighed before trying to reassure us.
“Alibul is the strongest of the young generation, there’s almost nothing he can’t take on inside the dome, and we already came here without being attacked. It should be pretty safe.”
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We emerged from the darkness of the shaft into an almost blinding multicolored reef. Everywhere I looked, I saw vibrant hues, innumerable small fishes swimming in a grandiose ballet of lights and colors.
I stood there dumbfounded until Flobul took me out of my daze with a forceful whistle. We went on, and as soon as we got out the small clearing in which we had exited, I was able to see a lot farther. Especially up, where the waters seemed to move slowly, carrying fishes and sand, before everything disappeared. After that, it was only a wall of pure blackness, like ink. No light, nothing. Just a perfect dome of nothingness. I think that’s what I would describe if I had to explain the concept of void.
Alibul was still swimming, checking around as we went. Then, after turning around a rocky wall, I stopped, watching the city in front of me. Each building was a testament to the craft of it’s creator, no two similar ones side by side. Made in every architectural style I ever saw and more, and from as many materials as the sea can offer, they extended in a strange, disorienting way, both left and right, but also up and down, from the chasm I could barely perceive on the far left to the mountain on my right. On that mountain flank was a truly breathtaking sight : an amoncellement of gigantic mother-of-pearl shells, opening like an underwater flower, a flowing milky light in place of a scent. As I was standing in awe, Flobul spoke.
“It’s nice right? It’s the Shrine of the Voice, the place where Sirenes go to sing, so that every Mertides can hear it. Sometimes, even wildlife can stop to listen and watch.”