A/N of Important Info:

I have not watched anything past somewhere in season 4 of TVD

I have not watched a single episode of the originals

I have no idea what I want to do when it comes to relationships and romance yet

My brain will stop me from writing for long periods of time. It's probably an undiagnosed attention disorder but we work with what we got.

THERE WILL BE NO SIRENS AND WHATEVER HELL THING HAPPENS IN LATER SEASONS. I don't know what the go was there, but they don't exist.

The only hunters will be the 5. Not whoever that other chick was that I see in Tiktok snippets.

No Beta, we die like Bonnie

Disclaimer: I'm creating a fictional story based on my appreciation of a fictional work that is not mine for my own pleasure and to better my writing skills, not for profit. There are also mature themes and mature language choices littering this story so please be warned.

This half-baked story idea was inspired by the voices of Ashley Serena and Erutan.

Pronounciation: Kuh-lie-uh-pee. Nickname Lia (Lie-Uh, like Lya for Lyanna in GoT lol!)

Athánatos: Ath-ah-na-toz

Chapter 1

Kaliope was in shock. There she'd been, minding her own business while procrastinating as always, when the water surrounding her had vanished. Warm tropical submersion replaced by punishing winds beating against her quickly-drying skin and scales as she plummeted from her new placement in the sky. Her tail was protecting as much of her tightly-coiled body as it could as she tried to brace herself for impact.

Why in Poseidon's name was she in the Olympus-damned air?!

Sure, she could control the winds, she'd literally invented how to manipulate that particular element over a thousand years ago, but she never taught herself how to fly with the ability! Why would she? Was she the first siren to be sent to space!? Kaliope was extremely cross. Someone, somewhere, was going to pay for this! Honestly, it wasn't like she was some kind of monster. She was a mermaid for Poseidon's sake. She didn't kill… often. She didn't hurt… without reason… Oh! She didn't steal… ugly things…

Tsk.

She was a 2,722-year-old siren; a fact that caused enemies to at least hesitate, if not give up any thought of attack entirely! Not only was she part divinity, but at her age, she was strong. This had to be a stupid prank set up by a stupid idiot because, surely, the stupid idiot who sent her up here knew that she wouldn't die. Hello? Immortal, much? Plus, she knew how to hold a grudge!

… Ugh.

Kaliope opened her eyes slowly, regretting it instantly as the wind stole all their moisture after only granting her a glimpse of her own tail, barely having enough time to see the green, blue and purple hues gleam across her black scales before she had to snap her eyelids shut.

She growled.

She was angry.

Worse.

She was bored.

Battling the ferocious pressure of the wind again, Kaliope uncurled herself. Her tail was flung out straight behind her thanks to the wind's force. Her eyes snapped open only to slam shut again as she threw her arms threw around her head, bracing for impact from the water's surface not 2 feet away-!

…

Huffing, Kaliope opened her eyes again, squinting against the air and crossing her arms as she glared at the water in front of her, still the exact same distance away. She might appreciate the joke later when she wasn't trying to convince herself not to go on a murderous rampage.

Curiously, Kaliope extended her arm to brush the surface of the water. With a squeak, she crashed through the surface like a puppet with its strings cut. Her gills, hidden behind her ears and ending just under her jawline, flared wide to take up the task of breathing. She sighed, the last of the air in her lungs rushing out in a stream of bubbles. Taking a moment to just enjoy the way the water caressed her, rejuvenating her skin and scales, she lazily ran her glowing green gaze over what she could see, her long inky black locks enjoying the weightlessness as they swayed gently around her. She could barely sense any life in this body of water; a river, judging by the depth and current. She slowly poked her head up through the surface, looking around with too-bright eyes. Trees, banks, nothing that told her where she was; though, judging by the number of species of flora that she didn't recognise, she would say that she was very far from home. With a slight frown, she dropped back beneath the surface, summoning up her connection to her Choir.

Nothing.

Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Kaliope sunk to the riverbed. Digging her hands into the sediment and closing her eyes, the mermaid hummed softly, connecting to the planet's ley lines, half intrigued and half fearful of what she'll find.

It took barely minutes, but information started pouring in, whispering its secrets, its happiness and its sorrow. The siren's face went slack in surprise.

This world was different.

A different world!

There was no Fae, no Sprites, no Nymphs, no Mers. She was alone in a world that, apparently, was frustrated and desperate. Silas needed to die, Amara wanted to die, Qetsiyah had created a sure-fire way to essentially break the world with her corruption of the natural order, Travellers were egotistical and bitter, witches were egotistical and judgemental, vampires were a relatively new race created through blood magic and werewolves were near-extinct due to fear, prejudice and straight-up suicide.

Just, ugh. What a mess.

But, oh! All the new things she could learn! New adventures to be had!

The world needed a new source of energy. The Other Side was hording the magic that was meant to return to the earth once a magic user died. Witches and Warlocks were not relinquishing their hold on what they saw as theirs when they died, and so, this planet had sought out a new life source.

The earth that hosted Mount Olympus and its never-ending power was an excellent choice. It was a risk-free endeavour due to the symbiotic relationship between the realm and its divine inhabitants. While being in a different dimension meant that this earth had to put nearly all its stored energy into establishing contact, it made the smart call by bringing an immortal being back to keep the connection eternal. The earth had effectively stopped relying on the inhabitants of its own world and instead created its own symbiotic relationship with a divine being so that it had access to an eternal life source in the form of Kaliope. All she had to do was finish establishing the connection with the planet so that she would become a fixture of this earth. Then, all she had to do was… live.

So easy.

So worth it.

She'd do it just to keep away from the judgemental arseholes that were the rest of her race.

Kaliope of the Cuan Choir was not special; she knew this. It was not for any personal skills she had, nor was it something that only she could do that had brought her here. She was not the strongest of her race, nor the oldest, nor wisest. She grew bored easily, lied way too easily, caused as much trouble as a siren not yet out of its first century did and didn't much care for anyone other than herself. If she'd guessed this right, she was here simply because of happenstance; time and place of random selection.

This world had taken a desperate measure, reaching blindly for anything that could help stabilise it, and had summoned a Siren; a creature of water, born from Greek Gods and Muses. A being that could feel and listen to what the ley lines whispered in a language no other mortal would know or ever get to know as it was a language only those with Muse blood could decipher.

She'd look after it, if only as a thank you for giving her a second chance to find a place for herself.

Taking in fresh water and letting her eyes drift close, focussing on the veins of the Earth, on the pain, on the hole in Mother Nature's soul. Kaliope opened her mouth, and sang.

*TVDM*

Stefan couldn't believe what he was looking at. Katherine, but not. Katherine, but human.

He snapped out of his stupor and dragged her out of the car. He cursed his weakness as he swam to shore, hating himself more than he could sometimes bear in the face of how useless he was on his diet. He could have pulled them all out if he was at his full potential. He could be so much more if he only had enough control, but he didn't want to feed on people.

He couldn't feed on people.

Not without becoming a monster.

He knew in his heart of hearts that the man was not going to be alive by the time he went back, but he knew he was going to try anyway. He dragged the girl onto the bank, looking at her once more with an odd stirring in his chest. Was she Katherine reincarnated? Come back from hell to haunt him? Was she a different person entirely? Was she-

Stop.

He shook himself, determination filling him once more as he spun to re-enter the water. He took one step in before he froze.

Warmth.

Acceptance.

Contentment.

Happiness.

He released a shuddering breath and opened his eyes, not having realised they'd fallen closed as he relished in the feeling so deeply. His breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.

The water was softly glowing, making what was once a basic body of water into something of a fairy's portal. Fireflies danced atop the surface, frogs had been brought in and soft splashes of fish he didn't even realise lived in the river were jumping across the top, trying to catch themselves a flying meal. Before he could question his sanity further, he heard it.

Or rather, her.

Hauntingly high notes soft as a sheet of silk but as warm as a wool blanket by a hearth gently ran over him like water in a bubbling brook. His knees felt weak, his stance as stable as leaves in the wind and his heart as full as it had ever been since becoming a vampire. He could do nothing but stand there and let the song wash over him.

*TVDM*

A soul was fading.

Kaliope's song had served its purpose, connecting her to the planet and its inhabitants. Her previous ability to use mortal souls for her own gain had been 'edited' so that she could do the same to the souls of this planet. Through this process, she'd felt the struggle of a soul trapped in the water.

Her tail pushed her through the water, travelling miles in seconds. Her tune changed as she looked at the mortal vessel, her inquisitive shanty slowing and moulding itself into a soft melody to ease the man's suffering and comfort him in his end. She would not save him; she didn't know him so why should she bother? He was a mortal who had come to the end of his journey and she would not intervene.

She would, however, take his soul memory as payment for sending him to the afterlife with her tranquil melody.

The curious thing about sirens was, because they were born of divinity, they did not need sustenance. They required not water, not sunlight, not sleep, not air nor food. They simply existed, but they existed with a thirst, a hunger that was never sated when it came to knowledge and emotion. Curiosity was both their greatest strength and their biggest weakness. Sirens had often been caught on shore in search of knowledge and answers. Though they could not die, they were as weak as any human being during their first 100 years. Young and reckless sirens were often captured with sweet promises of facts and findings. So, in order to prevent such situations from happening anymore, near 4,000 years ago, the Marine Choir invented the ability to absorb soul memories.

The difference between memories on the soul and memories in the mind was emotion. When a brain recalled past events, it was clinical. When a soul recalled past events, it was with nostalgia. It was where memories of meaning were held. So, while not as vast as a human brain, anything with a strong emotional stamp would always imprint on a soul.

A human could easily live their life with a soul that had been wiped of its memories, but it would not be so easy for the people around them. Where the heart keeps the body living and the brain keeps a person thinking, the soul keeps a person, for lack of a better word, 'human.' A person without a soul was classed as a psychopath. A person who had their soul wiped clean by a siren was a sociopath, at least until they built up emotional connections again; after all, it's not like sirens wiped them of the ability to feel. They'd feel 'human' again.

Eventually.

Kaliope's song echoed through the water, coaxing tiny, brilliant balls of light to come to her. So many colours; lilac for love, gold for family ties, red for anger, black for despair, blue for sadness, green for jealousy, yellow for happiness, all the emotional memories floating to the mermaid to the beat of her song. The traffic of colours eventually thinned and stopped, leaving behind an empty soul and a dead human. The siren watched as three intertwined threads of almost-smoke – one a royal purple, one a thick bronze, one a translucent white – escaped the corpse and rolled around themselves to form a vague replica of their mortal shell before disappearing completely. Kaliope smiled softly as the spirit vanished from view before she closed her eyes, cutting off their green glow to the water around her.

The memories immediately started playing behind her lids; memories of a woman – Miranda – who was in the car already deceased with him. Memories of a teenager – Isobel – and a birth and a child that was not theirs – Elena – but was his brother's – John. Memories of a child of their own – Jeremy. Memories of a woman – Abby – fleeing after The Destroyer was dealt with as he sought his adopted daughter's demise. Memories of a college and a man – vampire – and research on healing with vampire blood – Lorenzo St. John A.K.A. 12144. Knowledge of science and medicine, studies and experiments, surgery on his human patients, torture on his vampire patient. Tonight, family night, Elena had gone to a party and they were picking her up because of emotional distress and inebriation. Elena, who was not in the car. A man, a vampire, saving her. A vampire that should still be close.

Brilliant eyes illuminated the water around her once more as they snapped open, searching the water diligently for the supernatural creature that was close with the daughter. She opened her mouth and sent her highest of high into the water, listening as the sounds came back to her, drawing a picture of her surroundings. The man – Grayson – had hated vampires with a vengeance, believing them to be the abominations they were painted as in journals and yet the hypocrite had the nerve to place all his hope in the vampire who took his daughter away.

Kaliope was already planning her first stop in this new world. She needed a friend and who better than the soon-to-be liberated Augustine Vampire. First, however, she needed clothing and an identity. Well, she may as well use the existence of vampires to her advantage.

After what seemed like an age but was only a second, Kaliope finally heard where a pair of feet were standing in her water, her eyes flashing as she opened her mouth to send a single emotion piercing in the young vampire's direction.

Couldn't have anyone discovering her identity so soon, now, could she?

*TVDM*

The glow had faded, condensed into a green tinge closer to the newly-submerged car. Finally, Stefan was able to shake off the swell of emotion that had kept him docile, able to move after what felt like hours but was barely a minute.

He took a step.

He stumbled in agony.

A piercing note shot through the air, instantly blowing one of his eardrums. He groaned, trying to shake the ringing out of his head as his ear started healing, only to be struck again. Not by pain, but fear.

Pure, unadulterated horror coursed through his veins. The hairs all over his body stood to attention, his hands started shaking, his eyes blowing wide, his gut churning. Stefan started panting, his eyes darting from side to side, searching for the enemy that had his very soul begging him to run, run, run. He couldn't stay there any longer.

Without even looking back at the Katherine look-alike, barely hearing the sounds of the sirens that were no doubt heading for the crash site on the bridge, Stefan ran and kept running even after his instincts stopped screaming.

*TVDM*

His thoughts weren't strong enough today.

Enzo had cycled through his list of greatest hits; he'd thought of Maggie, of Damon, of the sun and the sky and the grass and love and hate and food and blood and the passage of time and still…

Nothing was strong enough to distract him from this.

A ripper virus, the kid had said. And yes, in comparison with the other scientists, this fellow was a kid. Young, new, ambitious, wanting to use him to eradicate vampires rather than saving humans like that Gilbert. An ambition that must not be shared with the rest of his torturers, judging by the fact that he was here at 21:24 on Friday, May 23, 2009 according the blonde scientist who was casually cutting into what he thought felt like his stomach while recording the process. Enzo scoffed weakly around the tube stuck down his throat, ignoring the look he received at the movement. He couldn't wait to get revenge, a desire he still wished for after all this time, a tangible need that nearly consumed him. Gods, he wished he had the nerve to just turn it off, but he couldn't. Emotion was all that was keeping him from breaking completely. His love for Maggie and his wistful curiosity, wondering if she'd had a family and found love, his deep almost-hatred for Damon for leaving him to burn, his overwhelming need to see the outside world again and his longing to feed on Whitmore blood.

Having collarbone to navel cut open and his insides on display so that blonde doctor could study how he digested blood was a pain fiercer than any desire to do or see anyone.

Finally, after half an eternity he was sure, the doctor knocked him out with vervain, meaning that today's experimenting was done.

He succumbed to the acid in his veins with relief, not knowing how very close he was to being free to roam the earth again.