Known for his trickery and cruelty, he ruled through fire and demanded sacrifices for favour, thriving off the wars and bloodshed of his subjects.
But Maraveth wanted peace. He hated her compassion, crushing her ideas and refusing to ease the suffering of his subjects.
So, my vicious little goddess created her own spies. Sirens, born of her blood and voice to rule the seas and keep peace between Mortal and Fae.
They were powerful sea-dwelling creatures that could control the will of human and Fae alike. They would often seek out evil souls, casting them under their spell with their song, and fucking them underwater until they drowned. They watched the realms for her, while Maraveth planned to overthrow the Sun God. But I ruined everything.
I had loved the sea as a Mortal and spent many hours on a boat that I crafted by hand. I had painted its sides with florals, waves and stars.
The day I met her, my boat capsized and I had prayed to the mother of the sea to save me.
I almost drowned that day, but when I opened my eyes, the most beautiful being I had ever seen held me in her arms. She visited me often after that. It was not long before I gave her my heart. But more surprisingly, she gave me hers.
I had distracted her, and the Sun God discovered her betrayal.
While they are the only beings capable of killing a god, it is the oldest rule that they are not allowed to. So, Helion created monstersto hunt her, forcing her to flee to the depths. So, he poisoned humankind?—
Telling them that drinking Siren blood would make them stronger than any Mortal. The sea ran red. Maraveth wept for her slain children in my arms, and every tear broke my heart.
That is why I, a mere Mortal, tried to kill a god. But it was a trap. He changed me. Ripped out my very soul and shoved a curse so dark and twisted inside me that I became nothing but a weapon.
I killed her. I killed the love of my life. I couldn’t help it. I had to, the curse demanded it. I shoved my blade through her heart on the Cliff of Souls; her crown of shells tumbled into the depths of the ocean as my heart shattered and broke beyond redemption.
Before her final breath, she split her soul into three Relics, hiding them across the realms. As long as they remain, she will reincarnate and I will be forced to hunt her.
I was forged by the Gods to kill her. But she was the only thing in this world I wanted. I would destroy everything to keep her. But I am bound to this curse, and I am not a hero.
I am her monster.
I am so sorry, Maraveth.
The words began to blur, the ink running like tears. My throat tightened. I could almosthearthe ocean.
Find the pieces,a voice whispered. Not in the room, but inside me. The weight of the truth pressed down on me with such force I thought it would suffocate me. The Fire Fates had called me Maraveth.
Maraveth was the Sea Goddess.
“It’s me,” I whispered, voice cracking. All this time, I wasn’t cursed. I was condemned. Everyfrantic breath collapsed in on itself. There was no room left for denial, or hope, or pretending I could survive this. I couldn’t read anymore.
I slammed the book shut—like it could stop the truth from finishing what it had started.
Panic began to flood my senses, threatening to drag me into the depths of utter despair.
But a sound drifted from outside. Soft at first. A low hum of someone singing. Deep, resonant and threaded with an ache that pulled at the tenderest part of me. My chest ached and I rubbed at it as I hurried to the shattered window, brushing aside glass to lean over the sill. The town square stretched below, bathed in early morning light. Fae gathered in a loose circle, holding hands. At its centre were twelve crosses made from wood, beautiful, vibrant flowers surrounding them. My throat closed with unwanted emotion.
They were showing respect for their dead. I hadn’t realised how many had died until I saw the crowd. The Commander stood with the crosses, his haunting voice carrying across the square and pouring into the most heart-wrenching song I had ever heard. A woman stepped into the circle with small, trembling steps. Her dress was torn at the sleeve, as though she had been pulled from the rubble too quickly to mend it. She carried a teddy bear pressed to her chest. Soft blue fur, one eye missing. She knelt beforethe line of flowers and laid the bear gently among them. A child’s toy.A child.
My stomach hollowed. When the woman’s knees buckled, the Commander moved without hesitation. He was beside her in a heartbeat, catching her under the arms. His dark head bowed close to hers, voice never wavering. The melody vibrated through the stone beneath my feet, low and raw, as though grief itself had found a tune. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was masculine, ancient, something born from mountains and storms and nightfall. A song carved for mourning. A song carved for the broken. I pressed a hand over my mouth.
He steadied the woman until she drew a breath, then he guided her back to the circle where others reached for her hands. His chest rose and fell with the song, powerful and solemn, each note soaked with pain. My chest ached so sharply I had to grip the windowsill to stay upright.
They died because of me. The thought slammed into me with such force that my knees weakened. Those monsters were huntingme. The Vaskra had followedmyscent, my presence, my blood. Those people, the ones burying their dead, the ones clutching each other, suffered because of me. Because I existed. Because the Sea Goddess lived again in me.
Tears blurred the square below. They wouldn’t stop until I was dead, or I killed every single one of them.
The Commander’s voice grew rougher, like the melody itself was tearing him open. He lifted his head just enough that the sunlight caught his face. He looked older. Harder. But not cold. My breath shook out of me. A sob rose in my throat, sharp and humiliating. I clutched the windowsill tighter, trying to swallow it down, to force myself to be stone, to not feel the full weight of what I’d done. But hissong wouldn’t let me hide. Every note scraped against my ribs and settled deep, heavy as the sea.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the empty room. To the broken town. To the people lighting candles. To the child who would never pick up their teddy bear again.
