I take a step forward, my heart aching with the need to offer comfort, to let her know that she's not alone anymore. But I know that words cannot heal the wounds she carries.
Instead, I reach into my bag, my fingers closing around the cool, smooth surface of the Siren's Lyre. Calypso inhales sharply, her hands trembling at her sides.
"I have come to help you," my voice ringing with conviction, "and to break this curse."
I hold out the Lyre, a tangible symbol of the hope and freedom I want to offer her. Calypso's eyes are fixed on the instrument, a mix of longing and fear playing across her face.
At this moment, I feel the full weight of my role as a savior, the responsibility I carry to set things right. But more than that, I feel connected to Calypso, a shared understanding of the pain and loss that can shape a life.
"You're not alone anymore," I say softly. "We're here to stand with you, fight for you, and help you reclaim what was taken from you."
Calypso's chocolate brown eyes meet mine, and at this moment, I see a flicker of hope, a glimmer of the strength and resilience that has carried her through all these years of suffering.
"Thank you," she whispers, her voice raw with emotion. "Thank you for believing in me, for seeing the truth."
I turn to Mirella, a smile of gratitude on my face. "She helped me," I explain, gesturing to the mermaid who has become more than just an ally but a true friend. "She was able to find the journals from Nixie, the key to unlocking the truth."
Calypso's eyes widen at the mention of Nixie's name, a flicker of recognition sparking in their depths. "Nixie?" she asks, her voice soft with memory, "I remember a Nixie at court before everything changed. She always had a way of seeing beyond the surface, of speaking the truth even when it was difficult to hear."
I nod, understanding the weight of Calypso's words. "She's a seer," I explain, my voice filled with a newfound respect for the enigmatic fortune-teller. "She saw all of this unfolding, and she made sure to record it, to leave a trail for us to follow."
Calypso looks stunned momentarily, her eyes distant as if she's seeing the past play out before her. Then, slowly, she nods. "I see. Well, thank the God Poseidon for that—for your foresight and bravery in such darkness."
She turns to Mirella, her black scales glistening in the dim light, her long dreadlocks swaying as she moves. "Thank you for your honesty and seeking the truth," her voice fills with gratitude.
Mirella dips her head in a show of respect.
Calypso steps forward, her expression contrite. "I am sorry for my...methods," she begins, hesitating. "I just knew that you could obtain the Lyre, and I was so desperate to—"
"Say no more," I cut her off, holding up a hand. "I get it, trust me. You've been dealing with some serious shit, and desperate times call for desperate measures. Consider it water under the bridge."
Lucian scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Speak for yourself, Little Miss Forgiveness! You're not the one who almost had your heart ripped out by a crazed mermaid on a power trip."
I level a glare at him that could make hell feel like a ski resort. "Lucian, I swear—"
Seraphina jabs Lucian in the ribs with her elbow. He yelps, rubbing his side, pouting.
"Ow! What was that for, you celestial menace?" he whines.
"For being an insensitive…" Seraphina stops, her mind searching…
"Jackass." Erik supplies happily.
"Yes, that! Can't you see that Calypso is trying to apologize?" Seraphina scowls.
Lucian grumbles under his breath, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut. I have to bite back a smile—it's not often that someone can put Lucian in his place, but Seraphina seems to have a real knack for it.
The bracelet on my wrist vibrates, startling me as it slips from my skin and clatters to the floor. At that exact moment, I notice Calypso's bracelet mirroring the action, falling in perfect synchronicity with mine.
"Our pact is complete, "Calypso breathes. The weight of the moment hangs heavy in the air between us. "I do hope it guided your path."
Looking back, I realize it did. It lit up whenever I was on the right track to the relics. I nod and smile.
I feel a question burning in my mind, a need to understand the depth of Calypso's suffering. "May I ask," I begin, my voice hesitant, almost afraid to give voice to the words, "When all of this happened? How long? The curse?"
"One thousand, fifty-six years, eight months, and five days." Calypso's answer is immediate, the words falling from her lips with the weight of centuries.
I feel Rhyland stiffen at my side, and a subtle shift in his posture sets off alarm bells in my mind. But I'm too stunned by Calypso's words to focus on anything else. Over a thousand years. A millennium of suffering, of isolation, of bearing the weight of a curse that was never hers to carry.
