Siren was three years old when she opened her eyes for the first time. She was cradled in the leaf of a giant plant, honey slowly dripping into the corners of her mouth.
The air was thick with the sweet scent of nectar, and the warmth of the early morning sun bathed her in a soft, golden light. Her wide green eyes glittered as they adjusted to the world around her.
The world seemed vast, yet oddly familiar, as though it had always been there, waiting for her to awaken.
Despite waking up for the first time, her mind was already filled with information. She didn't know where it came from or why it was there, but being the small child she was, she didn't feel troubled by it.
The world felt strange, but in a way that sparked her curiosity, rather than fear. Slowly, she became aware of the gentle rustling of the leaves above her, the soft hum of life in the air.
The leaf that cradled her seemed to pulse with an ancient rhythm, as if it, too, had been waiting for this moment.
Her tiny hands reached out to the cool surface of the leaf, her fingertips tracing its veins, feeling the life in it. She gently disentangled herself from the soft cradle, her small body moving awkwardly as she shifted her weight.
The leaf, as if understanding her needs, lowered itself toward the ground, offering her a safe place to stand. Her legs, still weak from her first moments of life, buckled beneath her. She tumbled gently to the ground, her small body softly landing on the cool earth, and for a moment, she just lay there, feeling the cool dirt beneath her.
The ground beneath her was soft and familiar, yet there was something new in the way it felt beneath her palms-alive, as if the earth itself was welcoming her touch.
She pressed her hands into the soil, the rich scent of earth and plants filling her senses. The hunger that had been gnawing at her earlier now grew stronger, urging her to find something to satisfy the gnawing emptiness in her small belly.
With the leaf no longer cradling her, a wave of discomfort swept over her. She chewed on her fist, a small instinctive gesture that brought her a modicum of comfort. She looked around, her eyes wide with wonder as birds fluttered overhead and insects danced through the air, moving in perfect harmony with the gentle wind. The forest around her was alive with sound-the chirping of crickets, the rustle of leaves, the distant call of an unseen creature.
Suddenly, the vines around her rustled, their movement swift and purposeful. The giant leaf that had lowered her gently nudged her forward, almost as if encouraging her to move.
Siren almost lost her balance but caught herself, her tiny body swaying uncertainly. When the leaf stopped pushing, she noticed something new: the vines around her were lowering a peculiar fruit toward her.
It was a deep, forest green, its surface covered in gentle, spiky ridges. Spiral patterns traced intricate paths along its surface, each curve seeming to pulse with energy. The fruit was unlike anything she had ever seen, yet it felt familiar, as though it had always been meant for her.
Her hunger, now a driving force, took over. She reached out instinctively, her small hands grasping the fruit. It was cool and slick in her hands, and she eagerly brought it to her mouth, her lips brushing against its surface. The fruit was awkward to bite, and her baby teeth struggled to tear through its tough skin. She wasn't sure how to eat it, but the urgency of her hunger pushed her forward. Slowly, with great effort, she managed to sink her teeth into the fruit, its taste immediately assaulting her senses.
The flavor was unbearable-bitter, sour, and rancid, as if the fruit had absorbed every unpleasant taste the forest could offer. The oiliness of it coated her mouth in a way that made her gag. She tried to spit it out, but her body wasn't cooperating. Her jaw cramped as the fruit's disgusting taste overwhelmed her, but the hunger was too great, and despite the revolt in her stomach, she swallowed it.
Immediately, she felt a strange, tingling sensation spread through her body. Wriggles and cramps coursed through her muscles, as though something deep inside her was shifting. She could feel herself growing, expanding, her body stretching in ways it hadn't before. Her mind, filled with fragments of knowledge and flashes of understanding, began to organize itself, piecing together the information provided by the Voice of all Things, and by the sensations and voices that had guided her since her conception.
She knew she was different. She knew she was otherworldly. The realization settled deep within her, as if it had always been there.
But she didn't yet understand just how different she truly was.