Sitting on the roof with her feet dangling from the edge, Mara listened to the choir sing. Their songs traveling through the distance to her homestead outside of town. She looked up at the blue skies and the far edge of the rolling hills, where the ocean met the land, and the seagulls also sang.
Mara took a deep breath and summoned her courage; she had made an important decision that would change her life forever, and it was time to tell her family. She stood up and walked across the roof to the triangular window of her attic. She could hear her mother and her three sisters talking loudly over breakfast.
"Maaaaraa," her mother called, in what sounded more like a song and less of someone yelling. "Now, where could that child be? Breakfast is getting cold," said her mother.
"Who knows, she must be in the woods talking to the bees or to the pixies that live near the pond," said Esyx, the sister Mara spoke with the most and closest to her age.
"Or perhaps with her head inside of a book," chimed Nethie. The oldest of the three, and the sister Mara played with the most.
"Who cares, let's eat," said Mira, the sister Mara fought with the most and the middle child.
Mara's mother was ready to sing her name once more when Mara appeared coming down the stairs. Her mother closed her mouth at mid-breath,
"well, there you are, darling. Now eat, your food is getting cold."
Mara made a gesture with her hands, trying to get everyone's attention, and clearing her throat. All except Mira had noticed Mara's signaling. She was too busy slurping her food from her bowl when Esyx punched her in the arm.
"Ouch! what?" asked Mira, annoyed, and Nethie pointed towards Mara, who waited patiently at the end of the kitchen table.
"Oh, for Apollo's sake," Mira rolled her eyes, "use your words, Mara. You're a big girl now," she complained, frowning and crossing her arms.
"I have big news," said Mara, nervously, her voice shaking. "I love you all dearly, but I must go, I'm leaving the island," She said.
Alarmed, her mother stood, knocking her plate to the ground, and splattering her breakfast across the wooden floor. Frantically she removed her apron.
"wha-whaaaat?" sang her mother in her soprano voice. "Mara, what's the meaning of this?"
"I knew it, she finally cracked," said Nethie, as she drank her juice.
"That's wonderful, Mara," said Esyx, clasping her hands and with a big smile.
"Everyone, I present to you, drama queen, Mara," Said Mira, standing up and bowing towards Mara.
Mara shot her a dirty look, and Mira returned it. "I'm sorry, mother, but I've been thinking about it for some time now, and it's time I leave Sirenum Isle."
"But, darling, won't you miss the trees?" asked her mother.
"Or the sweeping ocean breeze," added Nethie
"oh, let her go. We all know why she wants to leave," said Mira, and Esyx began to cry.
"But this is mad," said her poor mother as she sat on the chair in disbelief.
And madness it was, after all, where possibly could an islander of Sirenum go and why?
<><><>
Mara packed her luggage meticulously, taking care to not take anything she wouldn't need. Her family watched from her bedroom door in silence. After all, no one had ever left the island before.
"Mara, where will you go?" Nethie asked timidly.
"I will go to that place that sailors talk about. You know, the one in their stories, filled with lights, songs and such," she said, imagining her new life. Her mother looked on, trying hard not to cry.
"Would you not reconsider, sister?" asked Esyx, "It will be awfully dull without you," She said.
"I wish there were another way," said Mara, "but what place do I have in Sirenum?" She asked, as she closed her brown leather luggage and wrapped a red scarf around herself.
"Idiotic thing to say, so what if you're the only siren that can't sing," said Mira, who had been quiet all along.
"You would never understand," said Mara, "your voice brings shiploads of sailors to our shore. Last I tried singing, all I ever brought was a pod of whales," she said, remembering how embarrassing it all had been. Whales kept coming from all over the ocean for a whole week. The Elder Siren had to ask Mara that it was best if she did not sing again.
"Sailors are overrated anyway," said Mira, and Mara smiled.
They all followed her to the front door, where she gave them all a big hug and a kiss and promised to visit as soon as she could. Esyx was consoling her mother whose crying sounded like a sad opera.
"May Apollo keep you safe," her mother whispered between the tears, and in unison, her sisters added, "and forever guide you in light." They stood to watch her until they lost sight of Mara, where the road sunk to meet the horizon.
<> <> <>
Mara arrived at the bay, where boats of all sizes and shapes docked. Sirens from all over the island gathered around to whisk their sailors away, before soon returning them to their ships and homes, where the sailors seemed to forget where they had been.
"you there," called an older man who was not a sailor and sat on top of a trunk. Mara looked around, confused. "yes, you, the siren with the red scarf," said the old man.
"You know what I am, how can this be?" she asked, surprised.
"I've been coming every year. I'm too old to be enchanted, and I'm special, I'm allowed. Unlike these boys, I just never forgot. Fell in love with one of your kind, but she is long gone now, yet here I am," he said, removing his hat out of respect. "I've seen a lot of things in my years, but a siren with a suitcase is new to me," he pointed at her luggage.
"I'm leaving this place on the next ship. You see, I may be a siren, but I can't sing," said Mara.
The older man stood, looked at her up and down, and then opened the chest he sat on, producing a peculiar, smaller case, with a golden ribbon attached.
"Well then," he said, "here you go, my little siren. It is customary for sailors to bring gifts to their enchanters. This one is for you," the old man said, handing Mara the small case.
"But I haven't enchanted you. What is it?" She asked, opening the chest.
"Well, consider me enchanted and charmed. It's called a violin," said the older man. "may it keep you company in your journey, my little siren, and may it help you find your song," he said with a big old grin.
Shrinking, smaller and smaller, the island of Sirenum disappeared in the distance. Mara watched from the ship's quarterdeck as her home was no longer visible. She knew she would be sad, but she did not expect to feel so alone, as if a part of her very being had been severed. She dried the salty tears on her cheek and pushed the sadness away, focusing on the journey ahead.
Her sleeping quarter was pleasant, and the enchanted sailors barely noticed her, still under the sirens' spell, the sailors would not be themselves for several weeks. Mara was glad for the enchantment; it meant she could do as she pleased, and no one would bat an eye. She laid on the hammock in her room, eyeing the curious instrument case sitting on top of her brown luggage. It was a pretty case, but useless, thought Mara. After all, she was a siren, and what better instrument in the world than a siren's voice.
"Silly humans and their toys," she said to herself, as she turned around and fell asleep.
<><><>
The ship finally arrived at the town of Rhythmfell, and Mara was beyond herself with excitement. She could not believe she had finally arrived. She had heard all about Rhythmfell from the sailors that had visited Sirenum, but the fact that she was walking in the town's streets seemed like a fairytale.
Mara procured a small apartment with a balcony overlooking the town's square. Luckily for her, covering a years' worth of rent was easy when you have golden coins. After settling in her new place, she walked up and down her new home's busy streets. The town was so much brighter and noisier than her little island, and the people seemed to be always on the go. At nighttime, the world would flood with lights they called electricity. Of course, it was not equivalent to the floating fluorescent lights made by the fairies on her island, but not bad for a human invention, she thought.
"Hello, Miss, how about a song?" asked a young man who hung about the sidewalk with his friends.
"No, thank you," she said, "I do not sing, "she replied with relief. She did not have to sing in this new place; she could just be herself.
Another young man jumped up from the wooden box he sat on and said, "Forget singing, play us a song."
Mara was confused; she did not know what they meant by play until she noticed the violin case in her hands. She did not remember when she had picked it up and why she was walking with it in the first place.
"How about it, Miss," said the young man, waiting.
"I'm sorry," she said, as she ran away, dashing between the folks on the street. Mara ran until she reached the second street and straight into the middle of a parade. Women, children, and men danced and played. Loud trumpets and drums made rhythmic noise into disorienting chaos. She felt as if she was in the middle of a storm. People, laughing, talking, shouting, and singing, like a whirlwind Mara's world spun.
A random woman, inebriated on spirits and glee, grabbed Mara by the hand.
"Go on," she said, "play with the band. Make us dance." And she kissed Mara on the cheek. Mara yanked her hand away and dropped the violin. She ran and ran until the noise had become distant, and the lights less bright.
She hid in an alley, allowing herself to catch her breath. In the quietness, she heard a melody like no other, a song of sorrow and beauty. She followed the sound to a man playing a violin. Under the dim lights, he played the story from his heart. By the time the melody had ended, Mara had cried.
"I'm so sorry for what happened to your wife and son," said Mara, without thinking. The man looked at her, scared.
"I haven't said a thing, Miss," he said.
"But you did. You did, you spoke of her, and how sad it all had been. About the home you once had and the plans for your future life," she ended.
The street performer put his violin away in a hurry. "I have said no such thing," he said, clasping the violin's case shut. "You leave me alone, you witch. I don't know how you know about my life, but stay away," he shouted as he took off into the night.
"I know because I'm a siren," she said softly to no one.
<><><>
Several months passed by, and not a single day went by that Mara did not think of the night at the alley. Worse, she was in her new home and had found no joy. In the town filled with lights, noise, music, and people, she still felt that she did not belong. For weeks, she had looked for the violin she had dropped, and the street performer and had found neither one.
On a sunny afternoon, Mara sat at the town square listening to the local musicians perform. She tried hard to understand the musicians the way she did the night at the alley, to listen to their notes being played, but all she heard was silence. Every day that passed by, Mara could feel herself losing connection to the music. What had been different the night at the alley, and what has changed? She thought to herself as she ate her picnic lunch. Fear gripped her heart; she was losing herself. Not only would she be a voiceless siren, but at the rate her fortune was going, she would not be a siren at all.
As she drifted into her thoughts, the street musician's music had become erratic, until the ensemble crumbled, and the playing stopped. Mara turned to face them when she saw the town square beginning to clear. People hurried away as if afraid, and the town square bells began to ring.
"Mara," called out one of the musicians she had befriended. "You best get going home," said Nadie, putting away her saxophone.
"What's going on? Why are people running?" Asked Mara.
"All this time living here, and you don't know? Pirates, my dear. Pirates are upon us. The bells are a warning that they're near our shores. They come once a year to plunder and kill and worse. Go home and hide, or come with me," said the musician.
"I don't understand, why hasn’t the king intervened?" She asked the musician.
"Silly, girl, this is Rhythmfell, our king would see us burn before he helps. Our town has been self-sufficient for some time now, and because we refuse to pay the kings' extortions, well…this is our punishment. Go home and hide, girl, or head to the hills with the rest of the folks, that's where I'll be going," finished the musician as she left, rushing out of the square.
Mara dropped the picnic basket that sat on her lap and headed to the port's direction, ignoring the town's folk that shouted and pulled at her, telling her that she was heading the wrong way. By the time she arrived at the harbor, the bells had stopped, and the town was silent. Mara looked out to the sea, and without a doubt, Mara saw the black flag and the pirate ship that approached the town. She felt useless and angry. She didn't want to see the town from her stories suffer, the town that she had grown up hearing the tavern bards sing of, she didn't want it burned and sacked by pirates.
"So, what will you do, little Siren," said a familiar voice. Standing next to Mara, there he was. The older man she had met on Sirenum.
"You!" said Mara, surprised at seeing the older man. What are you doing here—nevermind that, you need to leave," she said, staring at the Pirate ship in the distance.
"But what about you, will you face them all on your own? Is that your plan?" Asked the older man, that no longer sounded like an older man. When she turned to answer him, the older man was gone, and next to her was the street performer from the alley. He smiled.
"well? I ask you again, Mara, what will you do? Asked the street performer, that was no longer the older man.
Mara stood back, startled, and confused. I must be going mad, she thought. The ocean wind had picked up, and the sky began to darken, bringing the rain.
"What can I possibly do? I'm just one person. All I can do is just… just try," she shouted, putting her hands on her face, and beginning to cry out of frustration. "Mira and Mother would have known what to do," she whimpered.
"child, remember," said the street performer who again was an older man, "You're not just a person, my little siren," he said, as he gave Mara the violin case with the golden ribbon attached.
"What good is this to me? I can no longer play or hear the notes," she complained, holding the violin.
"But of course, you can," the older man said, expanding his arms. "You're a siren. Your kind was made out of music and love. Music will bend to your will, and not only with your voice. You'll always be what you are, my little siren, no matter where you go," Finished the older man as he walked away in the rain. "Now please, Mara," said a transfigured voice, a man dressed in an armor of light, where the older man once stood, "don't lose it again," he said, and the man was gone.
Mara could not believe her eyes, had that been… she thought, unable to finish the idea. "I am what I am," she said to herself, unclasping the case and taking out the violin. She closed her eyes, and towards the roaring ocean and the pirate ship, Mara played.
Her melody spoke of happiness and sadness, of hopes and dreams, life and death. Magic woven into melody, and melody entwined with the ocean storm. The sound, as beautiful and terrifying as it had ever existed. Her song, overshadowing the storm and commanding the elements, and the sea listened, turning and whipping in anger until the pirate ship it swallowed whole. When the last note ended, the rain had stopped, and the sea was calm.
Mara did not notice, but when all was quiet, behind her on the harbor, stood every woman, man, and child, all, overtaking the sidewalks and roads. They all stood spellbound. Some looked delighted, and others terrified. Some just smiled peacefully, for some had never seen or heard a siren.
Mara went on to travel the world, finding new adventures and learning new melodies. When she returned to Sirenum's shores, she found her mother and sisters eagerly waiting, to hear all she had done and learned, but mostly to listen to the story of how Mara had found her song.
-The end-
By: Alec.C.Cruz @scribbleandplot
Cover Art by: Ashley Fern @ashleyfern3814
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