Thank you to Aryaine for the review! Very much appreciated.
This chapter might be a little boring. Introduction of a character we all know from YGO and all...
No. I refused to remain a monster! At least in personality. I would change, no matter what it took, and I would keep my honour clean. If I kept it clean, kept trying to be a good person, then I wouldn't regard myself as a monster anymore.
This was a goal I developed several days after that fall out with my sisters. Several days of floating and reflecting, evaluating morals and deliberating on a decision. It was only after making that resolution that I roused myself to begin moving voluntarily. By then, the forceful ocean drifts I had been caught in had carried me far, far away from my sisters.
There was no way I could go back to them-the screams of those who died, and the hateful comments about sirens would forever be in my mind. I wouldn't be able to live with my sisters anymore, live the same desperate yet playful lives they did, because I held a different outlook to life. My memories with them were tarnished. I could still hear the slap Alma gave me, for resisting, the ruthlessly careless way they dismissed that people might drown due to being wrecked. No, I couldn't return to them. It was time to start my own life.
There was an island that could be found if you navigated by the stars. The island of Lemnos was once an island populated by men and women. Then the women rose up against the men for their abuse and sneering ways towards women, and killed all except the king. The king they put in a sealed chest and set him adrift in the sea. When he broke out, he swam to the nearest shore and walked through the lands ceaselessly, as far as his legs would take him, telling of what he saw. Half deranged as he had become, people took heed of his warning, and none came to Lemnos since. Fairly sensible, but they probably never looked further into the future, where the population would be dead now as there were no men to born babies with.
The women of the island had died a long time ago, and the island was bare of any humans. I would live there. I would take care of this body, half fish and half human, feed and nurture it, and that was all. I would have to throw away my petty day dreams of love and live alone. Immortality just wasn't worth the price-the screaming, the deaths, and the guilt. Life, I suddenly realised, was worth more than immortality. That was one of my newly voiced morals.
My past wasn't clean. But I could start over on a clean slate. A siren who kept her honour clean would then only be a monster in appearance, not in heart or soul. Here on this deserted island I wouldn't harm anybody with my singing instinct, and I could try and crush that with silence. If it couldn't be completely crushed (I was sure the siren instinct to sing couldn't be eradicated) I just wouldn't sing in front of people.
For days I travelled. The wounds on my back healed within the first two days, since cuts like those could be compared to large skin scrapes on humans. Sirens had the ability to heal faster than humans. The ability was needed in a place where creatures could be cut on coral or rocks often when swimming.
During the first few days travelling, I was scared, and never slept properly for fear of being attacked by something. I had never travelled this far alone before, in oceans that were unfamiliar to me (since I had not travelled in these parts often before). That was when I discovered another thing-independence. My siren sisters and I had relied on each other for support, comfort, safety and entertainment. Since I was alone now, I had to adjust to doing things alone
In consequence of trying to prove to myself that I could be independent, I did some truly idiotic things. Swimming with stinging jellyfish for example, was not a safe thing to do, no matter how elegant and beautiful the translucent jellyfish looked. Sneaking closely past a group of squid when one could just circle far away from them was also not a good idea-their tentacles are not a sensation anyone would want to feel. I learnt quickly what risks I should and shouldn't take.
That wasn't to say I didn't have fun. I swam with turtles and seals, played with crabs (and avoided their pincers) and learnt to leap like a dolphin-though my landings weren't very graceful, being largely more bulky in shape than a dolphin. Swimming was the only talent I was graceful in, it seemed.
So much for my name-Charis meant graceful in Greek. I'd have to ask Mother Dora whether that name only referred to my swimming. If I ever met her again one day. Most probably not.
Several days later, I sat on a beach, staring at my new surroundings in awe.
The beach I rested on was small, but had clean, yellow white sand, as inviting as warm sunlight. Trees grew sparsely, growing gradually thicker as it went further inland. Looking at the night stars, I saw the star I was navigating by, and realised this was Lemnos.
It was prettier than I expected. But then again, with the bloody legend of the dethroned king, what was I meant to expect?
Even if deserted, the island was charming in its own way. I liked its quaintness and peacefulness. Here, I would not be seen by humans or siren sisters, as it was too far for them to bother travelling, with waters infested with dangerous creatures such as squids.
Pushing my loose hair back, I was reminded once again of how much I revealed of my torso, with only my long black and blue hair as cover. The reed shirt I had worn days ago had slipped off during my travels. Well, I knew what I was going to be doing for the next few days. Exploring home, gathering things.
The next day I started weaving a shirt made out of kelp. This time, to keep it in place for when I swam, I worked out how to attach strong knotted kelp so it looped around my pale, long neck. It covered my breasts, starting from my armpits, and stopped a few finger widths above from where my fish tail started, showing off a hint of my white stomach. Maybe a bit tight, but it was better then the nakedness sirens flaunted to sailors normally, to seduce. I wanted nothing to do with seduction anymore-I was not going to seduce anyone on this deserted island anyway.
I found a small cave just near the beach to sleep in, hidden out of sight behind scrubs and tall, hardy trees growing close together. There was a sand bank at the back of the cave that remained, even at high tide, so I could rest there, half in and half out of the water that met the sand. Somewhere on the island I could smell freshwater, a clean, pure smell different to the salt of the sea, probably a freshwater river.
Curiosity drove me to explore the island inland the morning after. I explored the human houses, though my tail did ache afterwards from bumping and dragging it on the ground. The island was truly deserted, the inhabitants had died so long ago that even the burial grounds for the dead had become a place of vines. Curiously enough, tall yellow yarrow grew there, as if a continually blooming gift to the dead. I did not spend long there, for the dead should be left at peace. When I did come near, it was to give respects to the dead, well, those who had not slaughtered anyway, and to sprinkle a bit of sea water
My days passed like this, for eight sun-ups. I rarely went far inland, for it made my tail ache afterwards, and wild animals could still hunt on land where I was clumsy. The loneliness of the island was a painful mockery of my past, with mermaid sisters that used to play with me, the naivety we were in before we witnessed death close up. A siren had instinct for company, and even if I was the odd one out who sometimes wandered away for some time alone, the times between them were fun and laughter filled. It made my heart ache to remember. Had my sisters become immortal with the men they lured? Or did they have to lure more?
How whiny my mind could still be. I had brought this lonely, silent exile upon myself.
Those first few days were uneventful. On the evening of the ninth night though, as I was lingering in the ocean waves on a rock platform, something swam close by. It was a snake, dark blue with a smooth pale yellow underbelly and tiny points on its crown in the form of a star. Its strange, black, cold eyes glared at me. It was rather familiar…
Suddenly I remembered. There were tales of a snake that belonged to Hera, wife of the almighty god Zeus, which did her bidding for revenge against other women that promiscuous Zeus had slept with. But I had done nothing to offend the jealous goddess Hera, so it could not be for me.
Still the serpent stared with its cruel predatory eyes.
"I have done nothing to offend your mistress," I told it. It hissed venomously, and I hastily backed away. It moved with me, and I stopped, watching it cautiously. Why was it following me? It was the honest truth that I had not done anything to offend Hera in any way. Maybe deserting the school had offended her, but she had little to do with the business of sirens.
My tail coiled around itself in a tight spiral out of nervous (or tense) habit. My scales gleamed softly in the faint moonlight. Another sea serpent, this one a smaller, ordinary one the same colour as my tail, rose up beside Hera's servant. Both went after a fish which had strayed too close, and they ripped it to shreds in seconds. Then the larger serpent proceeded to gobble all of the fish, and the other, smaller serpent, whole. It turned to look at me afterwards, folds of its skin bulging as it digested what it ate. Its flickering tail whacked a few random things to me, pebbles, sand, and a rather large piece of wood, probably from a shipwreck.
I stared, feeling sick.
The serpent gave a low, final hiss, and swam away, into the shadows of the ocean. I leaned back against a boulder, breathing fast. Oh gods, what had that been about?
Had that been a warning?
The next morning I examined what Hera's serpent had thrown at me with its tail lash the night before, hoping to make sense of the jealous goddess' message.
The pebbles and sand were certainly accidental-they had already been on the ground, and were probably kicked up with the serpent's movements. The small bit of wooden debris, however, the snake had seemed to push from the water. Maybe that was a clue. I inspected it closely, but didn't find much from it.
It was made of a dark, sturdy wood that resisted being completely soaked through by the water, but different material to the normal Greek or Spartan boats. Maybe it was from a foreign spice ship? The piece was probably from the prow, as there was a bit of decoration on the piece of wood. It looked like an eye, but it was outlined in dark blue. The whites of the eye and black of the pupil contrasted starkly. I did not know this symbol-none of my god and goddess relatives used this symbol. Maybe Hera was warning me to be careful of future foreigners? Or to remind me of the problem with Egypt, the nation's divinities that the Greek divinities were not on speaking terms with? There would be no point to that, as this island was isolated, and almost never visited.
All the same, I kept the bit of debris in case I could relate it to something another time. Then a while after Helios had risen with gentle pink and pale gold streaks, I went to look for breakfast.
Breakfast for a siren would consist of a lot of sea food. Live sea food, wriggling and all. I, being the odd one out disliked eating something still alive. It seemed cruel to eat it while still alive. Unfortunately, I had no means to kill animals-I wasn't even sure if I had the courage to kill them with my bare hands. So instead I was a bit of a vegetarian, unless the animal was already dead, but still good and not decomposing. It was so rare; I was almost a full vegetarian, with my diet of mainly kelp, seaweed, and sometimes plants and herbs from the land. I only ever remembered eating this delicious roast lamb meat at a nymph's wedding that sirens were invited to. Such a beautiful event it was, with the nymph more glorious looking then I had ever seen her to be. She had been glowing with happiness. We siren sisters dreamed of one day being as happy as her.
That couldn't be my dream anymore-pity, but this came with my self-imposed exile.
Until mid morning, I usually swam and darted among the flat rocks or looked for animals to play with. I had once been fortunate enough to come across a heard of playful seals. This particular day I decided instead to hunt for any beaches I had not yet seen. There were quite a few, but very small ones. Few were large beaches, but all were beautiful and golden. Some were darker gold while others were more orange gold. I swam onto the beaches, resting on warm sands that were dry, clean from human debris of wooden planks and nets. It had been warmed by the sun, and was pleasant against the coolness of my skin.
For a while, I lay there, half-dozing, until I heard distant scratching and rustling coming from the bushes. I immediately pushed off into the water, cursing myself for my carelessness. That could have been a bear, about to go fishing. It would have come across a rather large version of a fish then. Swimming back to the original beach that I lived near, I was about to go to the shallows when something on the normally empty beach stopped me.
Sandy and bedraggled, shallow waves washing over the curled form, was a man.
A man.
I stared, shocked. This island was meant to be deserted, and then all of a sudden there was a person on the beach, and even worse (or better-no!) a man. How could he have come? I would have seen a ship heading for Lemnos. The only way he could end up here without my notice was if he was washed up by the waves.
There was something wrong with him. He was lying so still on his stomach; he looked almost dead if it hadn't been for the uneven moving of his chest. His garments were soaked, and as I swam closer, breathing unevenly, I was aware of a foul stench coming from him.
I grew worried. He was only out cold, right? It wasn't necessary for me to come, hopefully. I really didn't know how far my self restraint could go against my siren instinct. Should he just be left there, or should I check on him?
The decision was made when a vulture (the rustling I heard before from it) flew down, waiting for the poor man to die.
"Shoo!" I yelled loudly, and the bird flew away, startled. I hauled myself next to the man as quickly as possible, and then hesitated. Damn being so nervous of the opposite sex, damn being isolated. Damn for having a siren's instinct right now.
Rallying my resolve, I reached out a determined hand and pushed him flat onto his back. His breathing was shallow and uneven, indicated by his chest, his head hot to the touch. I wasn't sure how warm a human was meant to be, as my own skin was always cooler to touch than a human's, but I was sure it was abnormally warm for this young man now. The disgusting stench came from his leg, just above his knee. Two puncture holes were there, oozing an unclean, milky mixture of blood and puss. So that was it, he had been bitten by a sea serpent.
Fear suddenly struck me. Maybe this was what Hera had warned me of! She had warned me not to help this man, who was obviously a foreigner due to his tan skin. But why? Was he a criminal? I didn't think so. His clothes were not ones I was used to seeing on humans, but the cloth was not rough to touch, just sturdy and good for travelling. Amazingly his violet travelling cape still clung to his shoulders, and tangled around his body, making movement difficult in that position. No, his clothing indicated he was rich, maybe a foreign noble. The last part was a subconscious thought, as I hesitated, still torn on whether to save him or not. Hera's warning was clear and fresh in my mind-helping this man would anger her no doubt, since her snake was being so…hungry. Yet this man was going to die if he did not receive help.
I suddenly remembered what I was on this island for. As penance for being involved with the killing of those sailors, and to keep a clean honour. I came here to avoid harming others. Yet this man was going to die if I didn't help. Letting this man die without helping him would be as big a guilty stain as the sailors that died, before my sisters and I visited Mother Dora. How was that honourable?
I could honestly and proudly say that my siren instinct was momentarily squashed.
The stranger's leg wound was still open-that would be the first thing to take care of. At least he was still breathing. I had seen how some land animals lick their wounds. I doubted the stranger would take kindly to that if he were to suddenly wake up though. Maybe that technique was used for cleaning, or soothing. I gently trailed my fingers around the wound. The slight pressure of my hand made more of the disgusting white-red pus ooze out. So it was used for pressure! Salt water cleaned my wounds, and would surely clean his too.
I went back between the clean sea water out further, and the man, pressing his wound and cleaning away the repulsive pus with salt water until the blood ran ruby red and freely. I felt a bit sick looking at it pour out, but pushed the feeling back. I ripped off some of the bottom of my kelp shirt and wrapped the strip around his leg as best as I could, pining it there with a starfish. It stuck, luckily, as if it had heard my pleading prayer.
The tide would rise higher soon, so I dragged the injured man up to higher ground. It was hard with my fishtail becoming clumsy on land, and I was panting by the time I had him under the shade of a nearby tree. Sighing in relief, I brushed some of his blonde locks out of his face. Only when I made sure I had taken care of his potentially fatal injury as best as I could, did I let myself take in his appearance.
He had smooth, tanned skin, though not too dark, and right at that moment his tan was pale in his face. His hair was a strange disarray that stood up, red and black with blonde locks falling down. Three of the blonde locks stood up with the rest of his hair like the miniature lightning bolts that Zeus wielded. His body was a bit short admittedly but-I blushed at this-his forearms were thin but sinewy and a little muscular. His chest was broad enough, and his muscles could almost be defined through the soaked white robe. Altogether he was a handsome, slightly bizarre looking man, I couldn't say much else until I observed his behaviour more.
Observed his behaviour? I was thinking too much on this man, when I should have been staying far away from him in the first place. I was deliberately disobeying Hera, and might be punished. Fright bubbled in the back of my head, but I had to save this man first. This was what I had decided. And as soon as he woke up, he would be thirsty and most likely hungry too.
He was in no danger of being ripped to pieces by scavenger birds-I just prayed there were no animals hunting at this moment, for both our sakes. I went further inland to where I found the edge of the villages. The women of Lemnos had grown fruit trees in the rich soil, and now the fruit fell with no one to collect them. I collected some fruits inside a bowl I had washed out, and carried them back to the still unconscious man, setting them down nearby so he could see them when he woke. Then I went back and dragged myself to a freshwater stream. With two other clean, washed bowls, slightly larger then the first, I filled it with as much fresh water as I dared knowing I would spill some of it in the process of going back.
By the time I had come back, nearly a quarter of the water inside each bowl had spilled. Just in case he needed more, I went back for another bowlful of water, and sat the round, wooden bowls in a row. Now it was only a matter of waiting for this stranger to wake up.
I slipped into the water with relief. Water was where I belonged. It was where I should have stayed, had I not decided to help this man. For the next hour or so, I circled a short distance away, peeking behind bushland to supervise him. He would live through the next few hours, I was sure.
As Helios was finishing his descent, throwing out his last, warm orange rays, the man stirred on the sand. I watched from a distance, in the water, mostly submerged. He had survived.
I hoped this good deed would not turn out to be fatal.
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