Nanowrimo and Dahlia; History of the Siren

Nanowrimo 2012 starts in 4 days, and I fully intend to participate and win. Adelle's character, story, and my interest supernatural urban fantasy and detective noir has driven me to try and write a novel detailing what happens to Adelle after Light of May, from another character's leading perspective. The rushed timetable of Nanowrimo would force me to think quickly and act on impulse with the story. Brainstorming and plotting isn't necessarily against the rules, but writing anything before November 1st is. 50,000 words within 30 days isn't anything to scoff at, and many lose every year, but it's a great exercise in writing that I think everyone interested in writing should try at least once. Nanowrimo boasts a large, city-based community to allow writers the world over to communicate, with forums provided to speak on a number of different topics.

I realize, since I am attempting to compose a novel with Adelle in its forefront that I'll need to rehash her history to be completely original. Not saying that I borrowed from anything copywritten, but there were general game-specific terms and pop culture terms used to describe certain things that I wouldn't include within the books internal universe. There wouldn't be a Light of May, or a grand unveiling of magic and supernatural creatures. Many of the political vampire houses in-game despised being outed to the world at large, and many were-creatures felt the same. Letting these creatures of the night roam the realm of the dark at will would fare better in this world. Most spirits and creatures would have the decision to be good or evil, although most would align with their respective natures given that they were raised to be the same. There are always exception to the rule, because that's exactly how it works with humans. How else would the term "black sheep" have come into existence?

Sirens; A Re-History

Anyway, Light of May established sirens, and therefore Adelle, as creatures in human form that killed to satiate their own "murderlust". Sirens in-game were to be feared and known far and wide for who they were. They were to be reported to authorities to be dealt with, but for any character involved in the shadier side of humanity, they were more often coveted for their blood or as playthings for stronger creatures. There wasn't much reporting for many of the sirens in-game, and for Adelle in particular, anybody who found out her true nature was more inclined to use her for her blood because of its effects for spells and vampire ingestion. To survive on my own two feet, sirens are keeping most of the same characteristics, but my own in-universe lore will focus on sirens being descendants of a witch that didn't want to let go of life. I've already named her Dahlia.

In short, Dahlia was born and lived her days out on Anthemoessa -or as it's now called, Capri- as a very beautiful songstress with an aptitude for instrumentals and dance. She could attract passing mariners with her voice as she sang proudly into the oceans from the abundant cliffs surrounding her family's island home. She was often coveted by men from far and wide for her looks and talent, and they often spent weeks attempting to court her before having to continue on their journey. Over time, Dahlia stopped having feelings for the various men that she brought to the island; that's when she turned to coveting what the men brought for her. She collected tapestries being shipped to lords and jewels of kings, using men for her sexual pleasure. Of course, they were all too happy to indulge her greatest fantasies, but the more men she conquered on her little island home, the more and more twisted she became.

The White Word

She soon became unhappy with less than the greatest of gifts and would throw men to their deaths while they were enraptured with her beautiful voice. The cliffs were numerous and remote, and Dahlia would often tell men to stay with her on the island under the guise of marriage, only to destroy them once the ships disappeared over the horizon. But times changed, Dahlia grew pregnant three times and her beauty declined. Men were quick to indulge in pleasures of the flesh but were never sold on stay with a woman mothering bastard children in a house just a few kilometers away from her aging parents. She began to fester in her depression, and longed for the days in the beginning when she was gifted the best in treasures and showered in riches. A man she had murdered long, long ago had brought her a ludicrous gift, but in her newfound time she turned to the decrepit, moldering witches' tome and began to read.

It was a compendium of knowledge, written in various differing scripts and often different languages. While Dahlia had learned many languages from her exploits over the years, she could not read some of the languages, but she painstakingly made her way through the works anyway. In time and with the right reagents she found that she could easily weave white magic with her lilting, pure voice. The children took after her soon enough, and they used their abilities to help their ailing grandparents. Soon they would be old enough to know what kind of woman their mother actually was, and so Dahlia took the tome for herself to learn more and more, falling deeper and deeper into her depression as she realize it was fruitless. She would never again be youthful, despite her best efforts with white magics. Dahlia could heal the superficial and the internal, but she could not reverse age. Her moods grew sour, and eventually the men stopped coming for her.

Her young daughters received the mariners attentions now, they were all young, beautiful, talented like herself. Dahlia's father had taught them instruments and hunting, her mother had instructed them in womanly ways, mending clothes and cooking. She watched over as they danced, corrected their pitch when they sang, and Dahlia angrily watched as she became what she was so many years past. She became bitter with the world and seduced the men away from her daughters, using midnight talk to wile secrets from them about magical artifacts and practices. She healed them when they were ill and sent them away with bounty of both supplies and treasure.

The Black Speech

Years later, she was pregnant again, her daughters into their later teens, one so closely resembling Dahlia that she couldn't stand the site of her beloved girl. The men came for them, but their mother ensured that they were virgin, pure, unadulterated in spirit as their mother had been so easily swayed with sin so long ago. She birthed a son: a happy, healthy boy, the same night a man brought her another book from somewhere far, far away. One of the spells in the book called for blood, and in her quest for eternal beauty, Dahlia sacrificed her newborn. But for the amount of precious life-blood that she had spilt, she had rewound the clock. Finally, finally, she was younger again, but not as she wanted to be. Her daughters, dancers and hunters that they were, were lithe and strong-bodied. Dahlia still held weight from her pregnancy and she envied her beautiful daughters every waking moment, but she would not sacrifice them as she had her baby. They were suspicious and rightfully fearful of their mothers growing power, but they said nothing.

When the men didn't come for quite some time, Dahlia realized that her looks were going, again. One night, as she slammed the girls' meals onto the table, she instructed them to sing from the cliffs as she did when she was young. Her daughters obeyed their mother, fearing what would happen if they did not, the three of them calling sailors toward their small island home from the cliffs with beautiful song. Dahlia killed them, not caring whether the men on the ships saw or not. She performed her blood magics and used black magic to sink the ships that left with members of crew knowing too much. Soon she was as stunning as she was at her eldest daughters' age, and while they had openly seen all that had happened, they didn't dare question just what exactly was transpiring. Dahlia had never wronged her children, and though they feared what she could do, she had all the power, and they doubted that their mother would let them leave. Dahlia's mother died of old age, and her father had a heart attack seeing what seemed to be his only daughter in her young years walk into his home to take his wife away to be buried.

And so the legend began...

Soon, the men began returning to the island to investigate disappearances but found themselves enraptured with the four young women that lived on the island. There was no aging matron that lashed out with black speech and struck men down. Just four women eager to indulge men's desires, hear their stories, accept their treasures. The youngest of the sisters always seemed especially eager to invite the men into their home. But one man returned, and he recognized Dahlia, but at first he told grand stories to the young women of their mother and how two of her daughters were spitting images despite being bastard children. He praised Dahlia's talents and her prowess for knowledge, especially for the metaphysical. He left harmlessly enough, but returned half a year later to visit with Dahlia's seemingly identical twin-daughter. In the dead of night, his crew attacked, proclaiming that the witch known as Dahlia was to be slain for acts against God and his natural world. Without a second thought, the three daughters took up arms against their attackers and slew them.

Dahlia performed her blood ritual and sent her daughters out to see that the ship's crew was entirely slain. When the daughters returned, they were presented with the tome. All three pledged their undying allegiance to their mother and began to practice both black and blood magics. The white word had been easy enough for them all to master, but they all individually stumbled with the black speech, and faltered many times when it came to blood rituals. Eventually, more men came following the tale of the men that disappeared before them, and eventually, all of the women looked similar in age, young forever. For years this continued until Dahlia and her children began noticing that it wasn't forever. They aged very, very slowly, and whenever there was too little blood to go around the wrinkles crept into their faces, ate their hair away, and saw them become riddled with disease.

Putting their heads together, the four wove a spell to summon a demon during an eclipse. In exchange for their humanity, it granted them their eternal life. In exchange for eternal beauty it took their human form. It made them crave blood, and guaranteed their souls be damned upon their deaths in tribute for Dahlia's slain newborn son. However, fluency in the black speech allowed them to evade one stipulation and regain their human forms. A subsequent blood ritual allowed them to switch between an avian form and a human form at will, but their truly inhuman nature alerted animals to their odd presence. Time would show that they would be incapable of caring for male children, but held strong affinity for the magical. Dahlia declared them sisters, but her daughters proclaimed her Matron, and mariner tales imbued them the name sirens.

Anyway, I meant to write a history for Adi here but uh. Oh well? Hahaha, at least, hours later, I have my own origin for the sirens.