The Isolation of Sylwa

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Sylwa, smallest of the Syrens, rebelled against the prison that Dagon had confined them to. Sylwa, bravest of the syrens, was cast out of the seas and damned to the eternal loneliness that she fed on, never to be freed from the gnawing pain of isolation.

The syrens were weak and starving. In those early days, their song had no power on the days that the Lady Moon hid her full face from the world, and no other life could survive in the Deep Waters. Sylwa was haunted by the sight of her syster, Senra, staring out with golden, weeping eyes into an ocean that was equal parts jailer and savior. The youngest syren could not stand it, and one day declared vengeance against thrice-damned Dagon to her siblings. Calsarr laughed at her, a deep, gravelly sound that hurt her ears, Roh'en cackled and called her a fool as he raced around her, Yuvaros stared at her with disapproving eyes, and Antheris regarded her with disdain.

"Dagon is the one true enemy," Antheris said in his cold, flat voice. "What can you do alone, the smallest of us all? Stay your fools journey." Senra only stared, her face lost to shadow.

Iotthera, alone, lent his sister his support. Loneliness and terror had always gone hand in hand, after all.

"The journey will not be easy, little one," he rasped. She only nodded. "Maybe you will die, or be lost to us. We would notice your absence." It was the greatest compliment he could give her, and she had to struggle against the sudden urge to quit her quest before it even began, doubt worming into her mind.

"What else can I do," she finally said, frowning. "Eternity is a long time to starve, brother. What else can I do?"

They assembled an honor guard to escort her, 3 of the strongest children to see her on the beginning of her journey. Iotthera and Senra sent their favorite children, and to the surprise of all Antheris sent one of his as well. Sylwa almost resented the children; they were not scarred by the tamperings of Dagon, left whole and strong in ways she and her siblings were not. They could have made the voyage easily, but Antheris forbade it, and so they only followed her as far as the edges of the Deep Waters.

They handed her the last gifts she would recieve from her siblings; a spear from Senra, the point sharp and cruel, and a glowing pendant from Iotthera that dimmed the farther she got from Chamenos. Antheris' chosen whispered a prayer in her ear, that rage would help her in her time of greatest need.

Sylwa travelled from Chamenos, and although the effort made her weak and tired she struggled on. Ambition set her course, and grim determination stayed it. She sulked in the shadows of reefs adorned in bright colors that hurt her eyes, shrinking away from the Children of Dagon that patrolled the waters. Down, down she went, travelling day and night across unfamiliar, hostile seas. She was exhausted and battered by currents that almost swept her off her course, and that sometimes forced her to use the spear to drag herself across the sea floor.

Finally, she brought herself to the entrance of the City of the Deep Ones, a dark, sordid, sprawling place that made Chamenos look like ancient ruins in comparison. She took a deep breathe and stood up straight, ignoring the protests of her aching body, and pointed her spear at the stronghold.

"Dagon!" she shouted, her voice surprisingly strong. "I've come to take revenge for what you've done!" Several Deep Ones swam towards her, weapons drawn to challenge the invader. She snarled and braced herself, ready for a fight that would certainly end in her demise, for what hope did one small Syren have against the hale, healthy warriors of Dagon?

At that moment a giant, hulking monster stepped forward, wading through the Deep Ones to stand before her. "Dagon has heard your challenge, little one," he growled at her, a cruel smile on his face. "You think you are worthy? You are a fool!" He laughed, and the Deep Ones around him joined in, a terrible sound that would fill the heart of any mortal creature with dread.

"I'll cut through you all to accomplish my quest," Sylwa declared. The laughter grew, and she felt rage building within her. She suddenly lunged with the spear, sinking it deep into the chest of the monster. His laughter stopped abruptly, and he growled, grabbing the spear and jerking her closer.

"A mistake," he snarled. "If Dagon had not already decided your fate, I would tear you to pieces." He grabbed the spear and pulled it from his chest, then yanked her closer, reaching out to grab her arm in a crushing grip faster than she could evade him. She screamed in frustration, struggling against him, but could not break free.

"Your god is a coward," she shrieked, kicking against the monster. "A coward who cannot even show his face when challenged!"

"Fool," the monster roared. "Do you truly believe Dagon would waste his time in this realm of existence? You are more stupid than you look." Sylwa froze, staring at the monster with her four eyes wide open. He laughed, delighting in the horror that crossed her features. "Yes, now you see your mistake."

"He's not here," she choked out, her throat constricting.

"You shall be punished for your insolence," the monster told her snidely. Dagon guided him to cast her from the sea, onto the land where she would surely wish the Deep Ones had just ended her life.

Sylwa gasped and choked, unable to breathe. Hot, gritty sand clung to her skin, which burned under the glare of the burning orb in the sky. She could hear the song of water nearby, and blindly floundered towards it. An eternity passed, and then passed again, before she drew close enough to taste the moisture in the air and make her parched throat clench painfully. The taste left on her tongue was sickly sweet, but the agony drove the thought out of her head as she reached scorched fingers towards the water. She dragged herself into the cool embrace of the water, her skin raw as the sand was washed away.

The relief lasted only a moment, before the pain began anew.

She could breathe, but each breath scorched her lungs as the sun had scorched her skin. The water caused her flesh to itch painfully, and the raw, exposed burns across her body felt like points of fire, the wounds a bright, terrible red. She coughed and sputtered, the sweet taste from before flooding her senses and causing her to gag. She scraped her skin against the rocks that comprised the riverbed, crying piteously.

She curled herself under an alcove created by a large boulder, unable to die but wishing she could all the same. She lay in agony for days, descending into near-madness; the faces of her siblings kept her from teetering over the edge, if just barely. Senra's golden eyes burned in her mind above all else, as if her twin was trying to lend her the strength to survive the horrible ordeal.

The pain, eventually, subsided in increments so small she didn't notice at first. Then one day she opened her eyes, and without pain looked upon the glowing, silver coin of the moon.

Sylwa sang her song as she flowed with the current that surrounded her, her raw vocal chords lending a raspy, haunted quality to the song. Her skin had healed, marred with scars but whole. The hunger came when the pain left her, and to her surprise she could sense an aching heart nearby. She could feel the edge of the water lapping at the toes of her prey, and slid beneath a large tree root, looking up at the dark shape outlined in silver. Deeper, her prey waded; when it came within arms reach, a pale arm darted out, nails sinking into exposed flesh as she dragged her prey under.

Her victim thrashed, as they all did, but in her hunger she found the strength to tear the beating heart from the creature's chest. Dark red blood clouded the water as she feasted, the meat sweet and familiar on her tongue. As she slurped down the remains of her meal, she sensed a burst of loneliness on the shore, just out of the water's reach. She hungered for more, but hesitated; she could sense her prey watching her, standing too far in the deadlands for her to risk it. She growled and slunk away into the darkness, comforted by the fact that at least here, she would not starve.

While Sylwa feasted, she became aware of an ache in her own heart that could not be quelled. She longed for the familiar faces of her siblings, who had been with her as far as she could remember. Here, she was truly alone, and although there were fish that lived, and even thrived, here in these strange waters, they were good for little more than a day's meal if she could catch one.

She wandered foreign waters, aimlessly following the current as she tried to determine which way was home. She had never had such freedom in Chamenos, but she had evolved to fit her new home where there were no Deep Waters to confine her.

She noticed when the water changed, and perked up when she realized the taste of the water was now familiar. Excitement pulsed through her, and she raced to where the familiar taste became stronger.

Suddenly, she stopped as if she hit a wall, a pained cry escaping her lips. Where the water became pure, she began to burn; she retreated from the place where the ocean met the river, staring at the open sea before her in anguish. She tried to return, night after night, but the wall of pain always stopped her. She knew that she had changed, and finally accepted with a heavy heart that she could not return to Chamenos. The pain of changing would surely drive her mad a second time, and she did not know if that was better than never returning home at all.

She screamed in anguish, a long, keening wail that reverberated through the sea. The Children stopped in their tracks, Deep Ones in their city turned in vague curiousity at the sound, and schools of fish swam in frenzied disarray.

In Chamenos, all four of Senra's eyes began to weep.

Written by Shepard For additional lore, see Syren