Sirens' Cove

Sirens’ Cove.

Word Count: 2404

The sirens screamed. Their voices echoed around the cove as they threw themselves into the water, dissolving into nothingness.

Richard sat on the ground, watching them curiously. Their shrill voices were a jarring contrast to the soothing sound of the waves and wind, and he felt mildly irritated. Sirens are supposed to have melodious voices, he thought.

Ignoring them, he looked around, and noticed that he was on a small beach in a rocky cove, sharp jagged rocks rising up all around him. His entire body hurt, especially his arm, and he noticed that his right hand was gone. He frowned, trying to remember what had happened, but  couldn't remember anything. Everything after the battle was a blur. He looked back up at the sirens. Some small detached part of his mind told him that they were sirens, although he couldn't tell how he knew with sirens, considering that they weren't exactly displaying siren-like behaviour at the moment. Something with a little less screaming and a little more charm, he felt, and he would definately call them sirens.

Still, a strange little voice in his head told him that they were definitely sirens.

“Ahem.”

A shadow fell across the ground. He looked up to see a tall, red-headed female standing over the rocks, arms folded, glaring at him. Behind her, a little way off, a tall castle dominated the skyline.

“Who are you?” he asked. Her glare intensified.

“How are you still alive? Why don’t they have any effect on you?” She said angrily.

Richard tried to shrug. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I’m dead. It certainly feels that way.”

The woman clicked her tongue in irritation, and jumped down from the rocks. She came to him and tilted her head, looking down at him.

“You are not dead!” she seethed. “Damn it! You need to be dead! You already...” as she trailed off, a worried look came into her face. "It... you... I can't..." she broke off with a hiss of frustration, and looked back up at the sirens, some of whom were still wheeling around in the sky. “Take him!” She commanded, pointing at him.

There was a sudden flash of light. Richard blinked, confusion enveloping him. He heard a sweet, garbled song, and soft hands grabbed his arms. He looked around himself, several beautiful women surrounding him. “Come with us,” they whispered to him, pulling him along. He followed them, mesmerized by their beauty, feeling the love and devotion in their caresses. ‘They’re so beautiful…’ he thought. ‘Such beautiful women, such lovely… sirens…so…’

Deadly.

He stopped suddenly, blinked, looked down. They were at the water’s edge. He looked at the women surrounding him, who smiled at him. Suddenly they didn’t seem so beautiful.

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” He said.

“Come with us,” they said, pulling at his arms insistently.

“No," he said, shaking them off. “I don’t think so.” He took a step back, and their faces contorted. He took another step, and they started screeching again, tearing at their bodies. He stumbled backwards, tripped over a rock, and fell against the witch’s legs.

“Arrgh!” She screamed, stomping in frustration. “Why aren’t you dead yet? Are you so stupid that you cannot comprehend what is going on?!”

“Yes,” said Richard, who really didn’t have any idea what was happening. His was hurt, wet, blood-stained, and his hand was missing. He sat up a bit, and looked at the witch. “Did you just cast a spell on me?”

“Yes,” she said, prodding him with her foot. “Get up, get away from me.”

He scrambled up awkwardly, cradling his arm. In the background, the sirens continued to screech and throw themselves around, and he looked at them, upset.

“Are those real sirens?”

“Don’t… don’t talk to me. I don’t want to hear from you! You’ve managed to thwart my sirens, MY sirens, my perfectly crafted angels whose songs have managed to keep my land free of blasted humans for years, how did you do that!?”

“…so those are sirens,” Richard said. His vision swam for a bit, and he swayed. “I don’t feel so good,’ he said.

“Are you dying?” The witch asked, peering at him hopefully. “Maybe the blood loss…”

“Why do you want me dead?” Richard asked, slightly upset. “Who are you anyway?” Suddenly overcome by weakness, he sank to the ground. The witch crouched down next to him.

“Urgh…” he groaned.

“Ah,” she said. “This… I…”

Richard’s vision blacked out, and he slumped over, unconscious.



+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



When he woke up again, he found himself in a warm bed. The witch (for that was what she was) was slapping his face, cursing under her breath.

“Wake up, wake up— oh, you woke up,” she said, as he blinked at her. “You seemed to have taken to my healing power well enough. Who are you?”

Richard did not answer immediately, instead taking the time to check up on his wounds. They were gone completely. Infact, he felt remarkably fine and well rested. His clothing too, had been changed, replaced with soft comfortable clothing.

“Excuse me? Are you listening to me?” the witch asked, waving her hand in front of his face. He looked back up at her, and smiled. For some reason, he felt completely happy and safe. “Did you say that you healed me?" he asked pleasantly. "Well, you did a top notch job."

"Who are you?" the witch demanded, her nostrils flaring with anger. "I demand to know that!"

“I’m a soldier,” he said, mildly. “At least, I was, before the battle.”

“Which battle?” she asked suspiciously.

The battle which took place along the coast,” he said. “The Lord of Orlon was fighting the Lord of Dunnington, and I was part of the army.”

“A soldier,” the witch said slowly. “A knight.”

“I’m afraid not,” Richard said apologetically. “I am—or was— a common foot soldier, although I did once dream of being a knight. The battle put an end to that dream, though. After the fighting started, I fought along with the others. Neither of the two sides were particularly well-trained. My memory’s a little hazy, but I remember being gutted, then I passed out. The next thing I know is that your lovely sirens were screaming all around me.”

“They couldn’t hurt you,” the witch said, biting her lip thoughtfully.

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging.

I must have fallen into a river of something, and floated to the sea, where your wonderful sirens greeted me. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give them more of my attention, but I was a little confused at the time.” He peered up at her. “But hey! Aren’t you a water-witch?”

“I am a witch who lives near water, not a ‘water-witch’,” the female said coldly. “Why?”

“Don’t you do wish-granting and stuff? I’ve heard about it.” Richard said.

“I...I saved your life, you stupid mortal!” The witch said, angrily. “How share you ask me such a-a stupid request! Do you really think I have time to grant you favors? You should be kneeling down and thanking me!”

Richard smiled. “I will do that, if you let me,” he said. “Only I am not sure if you won’t cut my head off.”

The witch frowned. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” she asked. Richards shrugged. “I don't know,” he said. "But for some reason, I really don't feel afraid of you. Infact, none of this feels very odd." Almost unconsciously, he lifted his hand towards her. She jerked back, hissing: "staying away from me, mortal! Don't you dare touch me!"

He shrugged and let his hand fall back. "Suit yourself," he said in a conciliatory tone. "You have every right not to let any guy just touch you, although considering that you went to all the trouble of-”

"Would you be quiet!" the witch exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “I don’t care! My only concern right now is why—”

“Can you make me rich?” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Can you make me rich?”

“Well, don’t you grant wishes? Or do those sirens grant wishes? I remember being told that someone—”

“Enough! I told you, I don’t grant wishes! No one here grants wishes.”

“Not even the sirens?”

“No, not the sirens! Genies grant wishes, for your stupid information!”

“Oh.” Richard considered this information. “Where can I find a genie?”

“No where! You’re not leaving! You will be quiet, and I will find out exactly why certain powers don’t seem to be working on you, and that will be the end of it!” She drew herself up, the room darkening impressively around her. “You are my slave now!” she said, her voice deepening. She pointed at him, and a blast of lightning came out of her finger, hit him, and vanished.

There was a pause.

“Well?” Richard said uncertainly. “Now what? I don’t—hey!”

The witch had collapsed on the floor, sobbing. Richard bent over her, concerned. “It’s not that bad,” he said, consolingly.

“You don’t understand!” The witch sobbed. “My powers aren’t working on you! I can’t hurt you! I can’t control you! And it’s all my fault!”

Richard felt confused. “Well, I guess, I mean, you’re not that great of a witch. But I’m sure you’re a lovely person,” he said, consolingly.

The witch glared up at him. “It’s not my powers, idiot!” She said. “If it comes to helping you, I can do that just fine. I just can’t hurt you.”

“Uh, thanks? You haven't fallen for me or anything, have you? Because in some-”

“Silence! It’s not that! It’s because I used your flesh.”

“…what?”

She sighed, and composed herself a bit. “I found you unconscious,” she said. “Along the river. I needed flesh, so I took your hand.”

Richard looked at his hand.

“I put it back when I realized that my spells were backfiring,” the witch explained.

“Ah, yes. I see the… stitch marks,” Richard said. Then he frowned at her. “But I woke up with the sirens.”

“Yes, I put you there,” she explained. “They eat flesh, and I wanted to dispose of you. But they refused to touch you.”

“I still don’t get it,” Richard said.

She sighed. “See, I took your flesh. You didn’t object, which means that it was given ‘willingly’. That technically counts as ‘helping me’. This means that I owe you. Then I ‘betrayed’ you by trying to feed you to the sirens. Which is a penalty on my part, and means that you are immune to being hurt by me! This is terrible!”

Richard’s head was swimming. “Wow, that makes no sense,” he said. “Who makes these rules anyway?”

“I know this doesn’t make sense!” The witch screamed. “None of this makes sense! It never does! Because you see, not only can I not hurt you, I have to help you, because apparently, I broke the pact, even though there was no pact, and you were a hunk of dead meat when I found you, but still, no....” she trailed off, muttering to herself.

Richard scratched his head. The bit about being called ‘a hunk of dead meat’ offended him a bit, but on the whole, he thought that the fewer the spells done on him, the better. “I’ll just leave then, huh? And you can pretend you never knew me, and tell nothing of this to your witch friends. It’s a good lesson for you though,” he added sanctimoniously. “Never take off people’s body parts while they’re unconscious; you never knew what might happen.”

The witch looked at him and bit her thumb worriedly. “You… can’t leave,” she said, running her other hand through her hair. “You—I—we have a bond. You—can use my powers.” She said the final words distastefully

Richard stared at her. “Really? So... I’m a wizard now?” he finally asked, a bit excited. “I—I don’t feel any different.”

“Well, you are sort of a semi-wizard, and you can use powers,” the witch said. "The final clause of my... punishment." She sighed and got up. “That’s why you can’t leave. I can’t have you running around with my magic powers, I am sure you will find some way to get me into trouble.”

“So I get to stay here? With you?” Richard asked.

“Yes. You have a problem with that, I don’t care,” she said, sniffing disdainfully.

Richard considered this for a minute. “Nope, I don’t have any problems with that,” he said.

“Really?’ the witch asked, incredulously.

“Well, yes,” Richard told her. “I… really have nothing else to live for— no family, no friends, nothing much. With you, I at least get a grand place to stay. And you say I could get to have some powers. And on top of that…” he grinned, “…well, you’re pretty beautiful.”

She narrowed her eyes, shaking her head. . “No. That— nothing of that sort will happen here, ever. You will stay here, as a house guest, and if you want I will train you how to work… my powers. Otherwise there’s nothing between us. You understand that?”

Richard shrugged. “Well, I get the magic part right? That sounds more fun than being a regular soldier. I’m in.”

“Very well human. Then it’s done. I now have a human living with me…” she groaned, running a hand over her face.

“Oh, come on, I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Richard said. “It will be fun. I’ll make life exciting for you,”

“What?”

“Yeah.” Richard smiled. “My life hasn’t exactly been a bed of roses so far, and I think I’d like to have a little fun.”

The witch stared at him. “You are serious about this,” she said. “I told you, I don’t—”

“Relax, you won’t come to any trouble, I’m sure,” Richard said. “Now, when do I start magicking?”

The witch sighed. She was already regretting this. “All in good time,” she said.



+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



And so Richard settled in the witch’s castle. He took to magic really well, and once the witch got over her initial dislike of him, she found him pleasant enough company. What surprised her most of all, however, was his apparent flair for dark magic, and they worked together to cause general havoc for the people living in the area, and over time the rumors spread over the land of the Lord and Lady of Siren’s Cove.