Page 2 of Rise of the Siren Queen
“You’ll change your mind,” he drawled, his tone sultry, dripping with confidence. “I’ll be back for you, my divinity. And when I return, you’ll realize that you belong to me.”
He turned and left, his figure fading into the shadows as quickly as he had come, leaving me alone with the bodies of my parents and the unbearable weight of his betrayal. I collapsed beside them, my tears mixing with the cold water that now felt suffocating, my world crumbling around me.
Everything was gone, my parents, my home, my innocence. And the man I had once loved had ripped it all away.
But as I kneeled there, clutching my mother’s lifeless hand, something stirred within me, dark and fierce. A burning hatred that seared through the grief, scorching away the remnants of my love for him. He would pay for what he had done. No matter the cost, I would see him brought to justice.
I vowed as the ocean’s icy embrace surrounded me, I would never rest until that bastard paid for his crimes. The love I once felt for him was dead, replaced by a wrath as unforgiving as the sea itself.
1
The crown princess
When the oceans carried the songs of sirens to distant shores, their voices meant death. With a single note, they lured men to the deep, where the sea claimed their souls.
But as the world changed, so did the tide.
The Seven Elders, one from each kingdom, wove a sacred decree into the waters, forbidding the taking of innocent lives. No more enchantments. No more drowning the unwary. A covenant forged to preserve a balance between land and sea.
Now, only the wicked hear the siren’s call.
No longer hunters, they are guardians, divine arbiters who summon only those who disturb the world’s peace. Their song is no longer a weapon, but a reckoning.
For the guilty, the ocean waits.
And in its depths, a last song, a requiem not of death, but of cleansing.
We must maintain balance.
* **
Iryen
Present days…
The cerulean blue and gold of the kingdom’s colors wrapped around the spiral buildings, their gleaming surfaces catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the water. The city pulsed with life, each structure standing as a testament to centuries of power, tradition, and the burden of rule. These houses belonged to my people, sirens and tritons alike, bound by duty and belief.
I scanned the sprawling city, my gaze lingering on the silk flags bearing my family’s crest, a siren tail enveloping Poseidon’s trident, draped proudly outside each home. A silent pledge of loyalty or a carefully curated display of compliance.
Scallop-carved effigies of the goddess adorned vendor stalls, nestled among pearl jewelry and treasures salvaged from sunken ships. A blend of faith and ambition, devotion and trade.
Sea turtles glided lazily through the currents, unbothered by the chaos of the marketplace below. Schools of fish darted past clusters of merfolk, their scales flashing in the light, while jellyfish drifted like spirits between the towering spires. Whales sang in the distance, their deep calls weaving into the hum of conversation, the clang of metal, the ever-present murmur of joy.
Hyrem buzzed with activity, the energy of the solstice celebrations thrumming through the water like an ancient pulse. The capital, always magnificent, seemed to glow even brighter under the spell of the festivities. Banners of bioluminescent sea flowers and kelp draped the coral houses, their soft light painting constellations across the marble streets. The scent of salt and seagrass mixed with the sweetness of fermented kelp wine was an intoxicating blend of tradition and revelry.
It was beautiful. It was mine. And yet, beneath its grandeur, memories of the past tainted a day meant for worship.
The streets bustled with life, but I could only see phantoms.
My mother’s laughter as she swam among our people, offering warm smiles and gentle words. My father’s commanding presence, his mere gaze enough to restore order where needed.
They had ruled with strength and wisdom, embodying everything I had once believed in. Now, their absence loomed over the city like a shadow no sunlight could reach.
I carry a kingdom in one hand and my parents’ ghosts in the other.
The festival should have been a time of reverence, a celebration of the goddess’s blessings. Instead, I could hear the whispers beneath the joyous clamor, the murmurs of doubt, of unease. My presence alone was a reminder of the blood spilled, of the crown that now rested on my head, teetering, and uncertain.
They crowned me with grief and called it fate. But it wasn’t fate who killed my parents.
