A BIG Thank You to Mental Twitch 'Sh33r's, Enigmatic Piscean, Piscean Wisdom and Operation Ivy for taking the time to review!
I'm not sure if memory suppressors exist, but I intended the pills to be illegal in the night world.
Yes, I'm horrible and I take forever to update, but here it is - -
The sweetness of their voices was such that Odysseus could not have resisted their invitation had he not followed Circe's advice and taken precaution of having himself lashed to the mast of his ship. As for his companions, he cautiously stopped up their ears with wax. Thus they escaped the fearful danger.
But the human bones scattered over the green fields of the Siren Island bore mute witness to the imprudence of former sailors and to the ferocity of these insidious-voiced creatures.
CHAPTER 5
"You have some explaining to do!"
June looked up to see silver haired Shaera glowering at the doorway, eyes spitting rage.
"Shaera…" She said weakly.
"Why did you lie to me?" Storming over to where she sat, Shaera threw down the pills onto the living room table. A creature of emotion, she was magnificent in her anger. Magnificent… and a little inhuman. "These are memory suppressors, not sleeping pills. And they're illegal!"
A turmoil of emotion rippled over June's face, before she covered it with both hands, as if trying to block out the world – or hide her own shame.
Her anger blending with alarm and worry, Shaera blurted out the one word she had never uttered before: "Mum?"
They both froze. June didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the exquisite irony of it all, hearing the one word she'd wanted to hear ever since taking Shaera under her wing and discovering maternal instincts. Hearing it just before the moment Shaera would hate her forever.
Something seemed to crumple inside her, as she looked at Shaera with sad eyes, suddenly old and distraught.
"You better sit down."
Sensing something dark stirring within the woman opposite her, Shaera sat wordlessly, unsure of herself.
"I knew this day would come," June murmured with a heavy sigh, "But I had hoped I could keep you safe from it. I guess, now that you're growing past your teens… you're starting to…."
There was a long pause. Nervousness made Shaera's voice pitch higher "What?"
"Your… your real parentage."
She had said it. They both contemplated in the silence that seemed to signify the end of the pretense between them. The pretense of being a family.
Caught in a maze of loss, fear and rising excitement, Shaera stared at June with wide eyes, her whole body seeming to tremor, on the brink of discovering answers she'd waited a lifetime for.
"Do you know what you are?" June asked softly.
Shaera nodded. "I know I'm part shifter. I can shift a little. But not fully – is that why they didn't want me?" She said, suddenly vulnerable, feeling like a child again. "Because I'm half breed?"
"You can shift?" This was the first time June had heard of it. Startled, she asked, "Into what?"
Shaera hesitated. "I don't do this often. But I'll show you," She said finally.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated her breathing and felt the tingle along her spine, whether it was by magic in her blood, or the feeling of muscles regrouping, she wasn't sure. An itch formed along her shoulder blades, strengthening and protruding until the small pain told her it had broke through the skin. And her wings then slowly unfolded, like a soft sigh of relief, fluttered and spread out across her slender back.
She looked up, a beautiful creature with golden skin, hunter green eyes and wings as white as snow. A myth brought to life.
June released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her daughter… so foreign and yet so achingly beautiful, in a form delicate yet with eyes half wild. Winged, like an angel. And yet somehow more animalistic and inhuman, even beyond that of Night Worlders.
An Angel of another, darker realm. An angel of death.
Warding off the sudden chill, June averted her eyes.
The wings slowly slid and folded back into Shaera, and her expression looked a little more human and less brilliant.
"We don't know about your father – or whether you have one at all."
Confused, Shaera said, "What do you mean? Everyone has a father."
June paused. Her eyes never leaving Shaera's face, she took a deep breath. "We're not sure if Sirens had fathers."
This was followed by the longest silence possible. Shaera thought she had heard wrong. But it was impossible – "That's just a nickname," she said numbly.
June's eyes had started to water. She shook her head.
"Are you trying to tell me… that I'm…?" It was too ludicrous for words. "I mean – they don't even exist. It was just a legend. Wasn't it?"
There was nothing between them except the sound of quickened breathing.
"Wasn't… it?" Shaera repeated.
"They're as real as the dragons." June tried for a smile, but didn't quite make it. "It was hundreds of years ago, after the war with the dragons. You've heard about that."
Shaera nodded slowly. All Night World kids knew the historical battle of the witches and dragons, and the deep enchantment that held them asleep beneath the earth even today.
"The Sirens caused too many deaths," June cringed as she realized the implication it made on the species – that included Shaera. "They were not as bad as the legends made them out to be," she rushed on quickly, "but it is true that they were extremely beautiful and their song seductive. The newly formed Council decided that measures needed to be taken against them, and once again it turned into the responsibility of the Witches."
Her eyes searched Shaera's beseechingly, hoping for forgiveness. Dreading for any sign of pain, but Shaera was unreadable.
"Whatever the result may seem," She said softly, "Witches are more merciful than the others. The Council would have slain them, but we put them under the same sleeping enchantments as the dragons. Remember that."
Shaera looked startled. "We?" She asked. "You were there?"
It had been duty. It had been the right thing to do. June knew that, but it didn't stop the flood of guilt overwhelming her. "Yes," She whispered. "I was there."
"H- How old are you?"
How could she have be raised by a person and never really knew them at all?
"Very old." June sighed, realizing the words were absurd coming from a teenager's body. "More than 800 years old. We went to the islands, where the shores were scattered with bones, and fought. It didn't last long. They were outnumbered, and other than their beautiful and deadly voices, were not as powerful as the dragons. We got them all, except one."
Shaera had heard some of the myths before. "Parthenope threw herself into the sea."
"Yes." Her eyes far away, June gave a small smile. "It was an incredibly willful and brave thing to do. We were all shocked, the waves around that island were terrible – seething, foaming, as if it were the center of the Goddess' rage. We thought she wouldn't survive it."
"But she did?"
June lowered her gaze. "The rumours only came afterwards. Strange sightings… whispers of a immortal and inhuman woman… and her baby."
Shaera's breath caught in her throat. "My mother?"
"Yes."
It seemed to Shaera as if something had broke free inside her, a sense of incredible wonder and tenderness, and strangely, relief for finally having found a piece of her identity. A piece of herself. "What happened?"
June turned away.
"June!" Without knowing how she got there, Shaera was kneeling in front of her foster mother, clutching at her sleeves, her knuckles showing white. "June… what happened!"
June turned to her slowly, and Shaera could see the regret that rippled in the ancient eyes. "I was too late." She whispered, "The Council got to her first."
"They killed her."
It was not a question. Shaera swallowed. "Why didn't they kill me?"
"I don't know." June looked at her. "I don't know how they missed you – or what horrors you might have seen… but you were found later. Years later. By me."
Silence fell between them.
"Everyone saw Sirens as monsters." Shaera said hoarsely, "Why didn't you put me to sleep? If it was so long ago, why am I only 19 now?"
"You were just a little girl!" June cried, "We wanted to give you a chance! Only a small group of witches knew – it was too risky in that time where the council was searching for you. We put an enchantment on you – froze the time around you, and washed your memory. You've been asleep for many years, in the form of the little girl. You awoke as my daughter."
Shaera was silent, as if she were carved from stone.
"The council should have forgotten you by now… but when you started releasing the CDs…" June broke off, thinking of the arrogant, cruel face and his parting words.
Goddess, What do I do? How do I tell her?
Very, very stiffly, Shaera spoke. "The suicides… are they really… because of my singing?"
"Shaera…" June covered her mouth in dismay, but it was not something she could not answer. She had been asking herself the same question time and time again. All these years and still the shadow of doubt lingered.
Have I done the right thing?
Shaera stood up quickly, and swayed a little. For a moment, her huge luminous eyes looked up, and seemed to have drained of all color, to bare a soul too close the brink of shattering.
She had waited a long time to hear the secrets, to discover why she was always different, why the darkness ate at her, why temptation drew around her as seductive as the night.
But maybe the truth was more than she could bear.
All that was precious to her… all that she knew…
All that she was worth…
"Shaera!" Through all the years, through the good and bad, June had never seen her looking like this. Scared for her, for both of them, she reached out, but Shaera was already backing away, her expression blank.
Without warning, she turned and made for the door, stumbling like a blind woman.
"Shaera!" Caught between wanting to follow her and knowing she should give her space, June stood frozen in the living room, as the door slammed shut.
But I haven't told you everything…
That night was the worst by far.
She had crawled into bed and tried to pretend she didn't exist. Hugged the blankets tight around her and buried her face into the pillow, but even there, the nightmares invaded her.
It began as the same dream – the numbness, blank and terrible, followed by screams. Gutted and unending, the keening clawed at her mind like grief, eating into her soul. But this time instead of fear and confusion, she felt guilt.
And then a vague image surfaced into her mind. It was a beach, long and gray, where the sand was gritty beneath her feet, cut by tiny rocks, and the ocean a dull and mutinous roar. A sound made her look back, where a woman lay amongst bodies littered in the tentative embrace of the ocean and sand.
A woman whose round face was cut with cruel lines of pain, fear and hate, staring at her, straight at her, tears frozen on her cheeks.
Shaera saw herself as a little girl, saw herself turn and keep walking, face unreadable, eyes clear. As if her small feet did not feel the sharp shards of rock underneath, or if her eyes did not see the dead men lying in the sand, eyes open and staring, empty of life and soul.
She watched in horror as the woman behind her started wailing, a desolate keen that set her teeth on edge. "MONSTER!" The woman cried after her small retreating body, "Monster!"
The words haunted her as she sat up, finally awake and panting, finding her forehead drenched in sweat and her whole body shaking.
Monster.
Monster.
I should never have been born.
Unable to do anything, she curled herself tight and let the hot tears flow.
Wouldst that I could sleep and sleep... and sleep forever.