"you know, when you said you could sing, i just assumed you'd be bloody terrible. ever the surprise, o'callaghan."
[book 3 | can be read as standalone]
✳︎
she's his cousin's exchange student with a secret, and he's, well, a king of narnia (not a hig...
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☆○o。 。o○☆
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Alice O'Callaghan, and she almost deserved it.
She was born in a land not too long ago in our world, but millennia ago in hers. Born in a land of raging war and crashing, tumultuous seas, born in a land of ships setting sail to find new treasures, new islands in the white capped, ever-changing sea. Nonetheless, she was born in a Golden Age. At least, that's what it was called.
She was born in the sea. She was born in a world where water was air and land was poison, and she could look up craggy cliffs and see castles and humble towns, born in a world where she blended in with those crashing waves, with those rocks that line the shore. A world where no one saw her unless they really, truly looked. A world where she was the current that swept boats astray, a world where sailors where her captives and her parents were their murderers.
She was born with a tail and a song, and wound up cursed because of it.
It wasn't that her song was unheard of. It was that her song was powerful. Her song controlled, her song manipulated, her song convinced. Others in her world had just the same song, but hers was pure power. Pure, unadulterated influence.
Adventurers cursed her name, whispered it amongst themselves in crowded taverns.
Siren.
Alice was the first. The first to have such a song, and the first to be exploited for it. Twisted and shaped and manipulated by her people, she became someone to fear. Someone to be revered, for what is a ruler if not an inspirer of terror? They made her their queen, a leader of all Narnia's oceans, and still with all that power, a single siren song would never be enough.
Alice was the first, and she would be the last.
Narnians, Telmarines, men from the Isles, Dwarves, Witches, Elves, all of them fell to her. Her song was a lure, a tantalising hook which tugged and pulled and tore apart. And yet still there were others she avoided. Others that knew her tricks all too well.
The ship of the Narnian rulers was never left to her. She was young, and she was needed, she was their Queen, and far too many of her people had fallen to that ship which carried four Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, rulers from some far off land.
Perhaps that is why that ship fascinated her so.
Once, in her youth, she had trailed them for hours and hours, days and days. Never close enough to be seen or truly heard, for even if she sang, none of them would fall to her. Alice had never known why, and that intrigued her more than most things. She knew the inhabitants of that ship as well as she knew her own family. The two boys, dark and light, different sides of the same coin. The two girls, older and younger, so similar but different enough to be recognisable.
