1729
During the earlier days, months, and even years of becoming a demon witch hybrid after that fateful Samhain night in 1729, Ashlinn Genevieve Beaumont LeClayre and her familiar Celeste traveled the world over - from Italy to Egypt to even Japan, among others. The two of them wandered from one place to the next in order for Ash to recover from what she had gone through, but also to try and find someone - anyone, besides Celeste - to help her understand what she had become….And to perhaps even teach her how to control her newfound abilities.
One such place was Brazil in South America, specifically the northern part of the country, and near the Amazon River.
And so in the year 1879, about 150 years after being experimented on, that was where both Ash and Celeste could be found, trekking through the Amazonian rainforest as well as the handful of cities and towns that it contained. Despite there being what was called a “rubber fever” or a “rubber boom” going on, Ashlinn was still more focused on trying to find a teacher to help her - simply because Celeste could only do so much.
As time went on and she still did not find someone to teach her, however, Ashlinn could not help but become disheartened, thinking that perhaps it was best for her and Celeste to leave Brazil and travel to somewhere else in the world in hopes of doing so wherever they next landed. Thus, they began packing up only the essentials that they would take with them and closing down the house they had lived in for the past few months, while also booking their passage on the next available ship.
And so, with their timetable all set, both Ashlinn and Celeste decided to spend the so-called “free period” before they finally left Brazil as they saw fit. Celeste went off to who knows where while Ash stayed closer to home, opting to take in the sights and sounds one last time for there was no knowing when the two of them would return to South America.
But, something rather strange happened when she went for a walk along the shore of the Amazon River two nights before they were to leave. A peculiar phenomenon that seemed to have no rhyme or reason to it, and yet still it occurred. For, while there was some activity at the docks a little ways off, Ashlinn was mainly alone where she ambled near the water's edge.
And yet. And yet…
There came a medium-sized boat making its way through the River itself, seemingly all on its own for she did not see a crew manning the helm or rushing to and fro on the deck. Stranger still, was the fact that there were hundreds upon hundreds of candles on all the boat’s wooden surfaces…and they were somehow burning underwater.
As this strange occurrence slowly moved through the water until it was finally out of sight from where Ashlinn stood as still as a statue on the shore in shock, with crimson-hued eyes also widened in disbelief, there then came what could only be called a… Destined meeting of sorts.
For, almost as soon as the boat with its numerous candles disappeared, then a seemingly young man - with slightly opal skin, stormy blue eyes, and short dandelion hair that was almost the same shade as her own long curls - was suddenly standing a few feet from where Ash was. And when they locked eyes a moment later, something just clicked into place, as if they had been two opposing elements - like fire and water - finally coming together.
Unbeknownst to them, however, it had been Fate who had made such happen. Likewise, it was also Fate who continued to weave its threads for them both far into the unknown future…
Long before he would take his first breath above the waves, his spirit had already begun its restless wandering beneath the heavy-breathed nights of the Amazon River. Some said beings like him were never truly born of one moment; instead, they emerged across centuries, called forth by prophecy, by the aching needs of bloodlines desperate for belonging.
Though Angela and Vernon, his future parents, still searched the forgotten corners of the world for a potion to summon their son into flesh, River’s essence had already set itself adrift. Carried by Hades, the boat was built not merely for battle but woven through with time. His thoughts were a swirling chaos as he had never truly felt he belonged ; right now he was in between time. Fighting for answers on how to become a siren.
River moved unseen between the living and the yet-to-be. The enchanted craft, alive with hundreds of candles burning steadily beneath the river’s surface, ferried him across rivers and centuries alike, seeking answers from the last surviving mermaids of this River. He searched for truths hidden in the bones of the drowned: why no magic, no song, could ever shift his blood from water demon to Siren, no matter how deep his longing to belong.
Under the cloak of night, the enchanted vessel glided silently beneath the Amazon’s wide, star-lit waters. Built for ocean battles, it now served a wanderer’s dreams. Hundreds of candles, their flames strangely undiminished by the river’s depths, were affixed to the hull, sending ghostly shafts of light through the water. Above the glassy surface, the jungle pressed close and dark, softened by humid mist. The heavy air was thick with the calls of unseen frogs and insects, as well as the river’s own whispering current.
Having reached his destination: He allowed the prow of the boat to creep up, breaking the surface so that he could breathe the warm, humid air for the first time. The scent of moss and unseen blossoms filled his lungs, a rich perfume carried on the breeze. River had not been on the surface since he was young, playing with his cousins on the shores of Australia’s Sapphire Beach. In the sky, a broad moon shone low and heavy; its silver light glittered across the river, turning its surface to molten glass. Above him, the jungle canopy was a shadowy cathedral of leaves, alive with voices he had never heard under the waves.
River De Clairmont carried the weight of his history quietly within him. He was born of demon blood, but Angela and Vernon: his mother and father who had abandoned him long ago to wander the depths alone also searching for answers. Now a free man, he felt both heartache and a strange strength in solitude. Long before he met Gideon Lynch and found kindship on the surface his story was one of confusion and pain.
He stood taking in the sights around him. The riverbank breathed around him, thick with the scent of mud, sweet fruit, and smoke. Capybaras slipped into the dark water, their shapes little more than ripples as his magical boat was summoned back into the deep waters. In the trees, harpy eagles shifted on heavy branches while fireflies floated in slow, golden clouds. Rubber trees not yet touched by greedy loggers were happily overgrown here. Ceiba giants leaned close to the shore, their roots gnarled like old hands. Somewhere deeper in the brush, a jaguarundi cat prowled unseen. River felt it all in the edges of his senses : the life, the hunger, the breathing Earth. Of all the gods and the many Hells that existed in the universe he was always amazed by Earth's surface the most.
He passed a silent bend in the river, and the world seemed to shift around him. He caught the silhouette of a figure standing motionless at the water’s edge, lit by dim moonlight between the trees. He did not see her face or the color of her eyes. He was not yet captivated by her and all that was Ashlinn by what he would later call more than a love at first sight connection in the Ghost Town Graveyard. Perhaps it was even his very encounter in a rift in time where he wasn't even supposed to be in the first place that caused it. He and Ashlinn were far more than steamy lovers passing in the night. Or some book cliche where someone rushes too fast. No, they simply fit into each other's word by The Gods she worshiped. While River had met Gods and spat in their faces. The Gods simply choose that cursed fire and cursed water both made something not by choice, would clash together and forum land.
In that instant he felt a pull at the core of his being: an unseen connection brushing against his soul even if he never laid eyes on her his soul adored her deeply, he somehow felt her even then. For a single heartbeat he lingered, the river holding its breath along with him. Then he remembered the purpose that drove him onward, and the feeling vanished as suddenly as it had come, leaving him only with the echoes of what might have been.
The figure faded into darkness as he regained his focus and straightened, letting the enchanted boat guide him deeper into the Amazon’s night-quiet depths, leaving the riverbank behind. In the silence, something in him had shifted; an unspoken thread had touched his soul, even if he could not name why. Ahead, the river wound on through perpetual forests and moonlight, vast and mysterious, and he pressed onward beneath the humid sky with only his glowing candles to light the way, carrying hope and loneliness in equal measure. The Amazon stretched before him, an endless corridor of water, and though he did not know it then, fate had already set its course.
