Siren
Revanta was dying. Her lifeblood had fueled industry, her lands scorched by the fires of war. She had been obliterated by a nuclear explosion that tore her molten heart open and flung pieces of her into space, leaving behind a deadly asteroid field. A toxic stratospheric cloud smothered much of her atmosphere. Oceans had burned away, rivers turned to dust, and rainforests withered. Only pockets of habitable zones remained—most of them buried underground. Above, brutal black deserts stretched as far as the eye could see, their dunes broken only by the jutting remains of dead civilizations long past. The old sanctuaries had collapsed, the mountain dwellers vanished, the canyon people dead. Only the Tala remained, hidden in the deepest caverns, clinging to life. No one willingly went to the surface—until Aditi did the unthinkable and ascended, for her daughter. Battered by a sandstorm, she waded now through ash and cinder, stumbling desperately toward an opening in a jagged outcropping of rock.
Climbing inside a space barely larger than her body, she breathed a sigh of relief as shadows fell over her skin. She was farther from home than she had ever been, and she didn’t know this cave, but the familiar touch of cool stone was enough to ease her exhaustion. Even so, she remained cautious, tilting her head and listening carefully, her emerald eyes scanning the depths. Anxious, she slid along the narrow tunnel and dropped down into the larger cavern, her tattered clothing billowing outward, kicking up dust. Her eyes snapped to a bloody trail on the cracked limestone, leading deeper into the cave. Kneeling weakly, she dipped her slender finger in the blood and then parted her deep burgundy lips, cracked and dried from the heat, touching the blood to her tongue. Realization flashed in her eyes. She was not alone.
Fearful now, she glanced upward at the opening of the cavern, beyond which the storm had already begun to rage. Renu, as the dust was called, carried the risk of severe respiratory damage, even in small quantities. Exposure to a storm like the one outside meant certain death. She was trapped, watching helplessly as the sky darkened, swallowing the light that had only moments ago fallen across her long dark hair. She was already weak from exposure, and her thin, worn clothing would offer little protection from the cold. She needed to find food, water, and firelight—quickly.
As she moved deeper into the cave it opened into a massive cavern, with passages leading every direction for miles. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, glowing bright emerald now, a feature of her cavern-dwelling people. They helped her navigate the perils of the passages as she walked, searching for signs of water or life. Finally, she came to a massive chamber. Inside, the humidity rose, and the walls glowed an eerie green. The light came from a softly pulsating algae that covered the moist stone. Aditi smiled. Avkolva grew near underground water sources. She pressed on, following the Avkolva deep underground as it grew thicker and more prominent. Soon, she heard the river, somewhere in the distance. Relieved, she pulled the ragged cloth away from her deep brown, sun-kissed face and breathed the clean air deeply. There was no sign of any danger—she was nearing her salvation. She moved quicker now, following the sounds of the river, desperate for the cool taste of water. She came finally to a new passageway, but she stopped short, a warning leaping up in her heart. There was a scent here she recognized. She breathed it deeply, the nostrils of her delicately curved nose flaring. There was no doubt. It was the smell of death and decay. She stood rigidly still, weighing her options, but soon realized she had little choice. She could either face the dangers ahead and have a chance at reaching the water or go back and face the certain death of dehydration. Hesitantly, she stepped forward.
Inside, the chamber floor was littered with crushed bone and the skeletons of all manner of beasts and men—more corpses than she had ever seen. Among them were the decomposed bodies of weary travelers like herself, drawn to the place out of desperation. Fear began to overtake her as she realized she had entered the lair of some beast. She moved quickly now, cutting her bare feet on the sharp shards of bone, the sound of her passage echoing too loudly. Her heart raced, sweat beading on her forehead, as she desperately sought to escape the chamber—but it was too late. A low guttural growl echoed through the cavern, and three sets of yellow, slitted eyes appeared in the dark of the exit. A nightmarish beast stepped into the pale light, blocking her path, and Aditi froze. It was a massive six-legged amphibian that stood shoulder-height, a sinewy mass of muscle and ashen scales. A series of beige spikes ran along its back and tail, ending in a razor-sharp tip. Two cranial horns rose from the sides of its angular head. A multitude of quivering tendrils, dark at their base and light at their tips, covered its pitted, porous body, which was scarred with deep emanating ridges. It opened its horrific maw as it approached, and a forked tongue whipped out from behind two rows of serrated teeth. Aditi kneeled slowly and picked up a broken femur bone, holding the jagged edge outward. The beast regarded her for a moment, perhaps curious that she did not flee, or amused by her feeble weapon.
Aditi stepped backward, but the beast would not allow her to escape. In an instant, it was upon her, knocking her from her feet. She fell backward on the hard floor, cutting her body on the shards of bone. The creature pinned her easily with four of its legs, the remaining two slashing at her body with serrated claws, its jaw snapping inches from her face. Aditi pressed upward with her legs, struggling to keep its massive body aloft as she dodged its attacks. She hacked blindly at the beast, but her strength was already gone. Her exhausted legs buckled, and the creature came downward, crushing her beneath its weight. Desperate now, she slashed wildly, and the sharp end of the bone finally found its mark: one of the creature’s eyes. Green blood sprayed across her face, and the creature recoiled, screeching in pain. Aditi stabbed again, taking a second eye, and finally the beast released her, but not before tearing a gash in her chest, and ripping her Uttariya from her body. The beast clawed at its eyes in pain as Aditi rolled away, her body lacerated by the bones. She scrambled again toward the entrance, on hands and knees, but the creature, lightning-fast, leapt past her, cutting off her escape. As its gaping jaw widened again, Aditi raised an arm to shield her face and shut her eyes, bracing for a swift death — but the strike never came. When she looked again, the creature stood frozen, a low growl in its throat, teeth bared — but it did not advance.
“What are you waiting for?” Aditi screamed. Then, as if in answer, a wave of nausea crashed through her, and she understood — she had been poisoned.
Her body succumbed quickly. Her vision blurred, her consciousness faded. Her hands shook, her muscles quivered, and her breathing became shallow. She fell forward, still clutching the bone in her trembling hand. The creature stood by and watched, content to wait for easier prey, holding back until she hovered at the threshold of death. As the darkness closed in, one last spark of defiance flared within Aditi. She would not wait to be devoured. With the last of her strength she lunged at the beast, a primal scream tearing through her throat. The jagged bone slid between the scales of the beast’s neck, severing its jugular. Hot blood splashed across her bare chest, and the rush that filled her could only be described as elation. The creature writhed and roared, claws raking her flesh, jaws crushing her midriff — but Aditi let the shard fall and surrendered to the beast’s fury, glad to drag it with her into the darkness of death. As the beast fell and its life ebbed away, Aditi closed her eyes, her spirit slipping. A few seconds more and she would be nothing but another pile of bones in the beast’s collection. Then, the siren came.
She slithered into the room like something from a nightmare — thin, vaguely human, and amphibious; skeletal and gaunt. Her pale glowing eyes were set deep into her sockets, ghostly and soul-piercing. Razor sharp teeth gleamed from her sinister mouth, behind which a forked tongue writhed. Wisps of long white hair trailed down her back, ragged and brittle, while a coat of finer white hairs sparsely covered her emaciated body. A zipper-like opening, like two skeletal hands clasping, ran between her bare breasts and terminated just below her midriff. Her pallid white skin was rough and porous, slick with a wet sheen—overlaid with a twisting horror of tendrils and spikes that formed a wicked exoskeleton. She was etched with lines, deep channels from which a red light faintly glowed. From the side of her head grew four white horns—two large, two small. Four thin arms swayed as she moved, deadly claws jutting from her long, skeletal fingers. She was terror incarnate, but to Aditi, who was already ensnared in her spell, her beauty deepened with every moment. The horror had wavered and reassembled as beauty.
Her withered face had grown vibrant and full, her eyes shining gold. Her skin became soft and smooth—deep brown, luminous, and radiant. Her lips, coral and full, were now inviting. Her once-white hair had turned a deep, lustrous black, intricately braided and adorned with ornaments and pearls, cascading down her graceful back. She wore a gold necklace set with precious gems, hooped golden earrings, ornate bangles on her slender arms, and rings on her fingers—but no clothing. She needed none. To hide such beauty would be sacrilege. She was the epitome of desire now, the very embodiment of the feminine form, and Aditi could not look away. The woman knelt before Aditi, a subtle smile curving her lips, and with casual ease she lifted the heavy beast’s corpse, hurling it into the corner. Then, she pressed close to Aditi’s face, dragging an elegant finger across her blood-soaked lips.
“I will show you the power of blood,” she purred.
The siren willed her chest to part along the seam, revealing her beating heart. She grasped it, piercing it with her long nails, and blood gushed from the wound, running down her naked body, pooling in her navel. As the seam closed, her chest returned to its human form, now slick with blood. She moved closer and laid down next to Aditi, offering the blood. Aditi stared weakly, unable to speak, the last of her life ebbing away.
“Don’t be afraid,” the siren said, “Drink, and be restored.”
Aditi withheld, but she wanted to accept. The siren, sensing her hesitation, placed a blood-soaked hand gently on her cheek, bringing her face closer. As Aditi looked deep into her eyes, all fears faded. She felt nothing but an overwhelming desire to love and trust. The siren’s beauty was intoxicating—the gentle touch of her skin, the light of her eyes, her scent, her smile. Aditi wanted to please her—and the blood—she wanted nothing more than to drink every drop. Her willpower was not enough to ward off the siren’s powers. Unable to resist, she touched her tongue gingerly to the woman’s stomach, lapping up the dark blood greedily, following its trail downward. The siren gasped in delight, dragging Aditi close, their blood-slick bodies entwining. Their passions ignited in a frenzy of claw and flesh. Naked among the bones, their moans echoed through the cavern walls.
Aditi woke in a chamber she didn’t recognize, confused, and alone. There was no sign of struggle—no beast, no bones, no blood, no siren. Miraculously restored but weak, she searched the chamber and found nothing. The more she thought on it, the more certain she became that her experience had been a hallucination. This thought settled her nerves, and she let out a slow breath—only to see the Siren round the corner, the Uttariya in her hands. Aditi froze, wide-eyed.
“I’ve mended it,” the siren said, her lips pursed playfully.
“It—was real...” Aditi gasped, crossing her arms quickly to cover her bare chest.
The siren smiled. “You’ve nothing left to hide from me, my dear.”
“Who are you?” Aditi demanded. “What did you do to me?”
“I am Urvāśī,” the siren replied, bowing gracefully, an over performative curtsy. “I saved your life.”
“Yes—thank you—but what I—what we—” Aditi faltered. “I have no desire for women!”
Urvāśī laughed, a deeper more ancient laugh than matched her present form. She stepped forward slowly. “True ecstasy comes only from a siren. It is not bound by mortal constraints—and no mortal can resist.”
“A—siren?” Aditi asked, confused.
Urvāśī nodded, the delicate strands of her white hair falling across her brow.
Aditi stopped retreating now, curious, feeling again the draw of the woman’s power.
“I am a child of the twin gods, Wēisos and Wēnos, the gods of emotion and desire,” Urvāśī continued, moving closer.
“Gods?” Aditi scoffed, incredulous.
“Is it so hard to believe? Do you not believe in your own gods?” Urvāśī asked, extending her delicate hands, offering her the Uttariya, her eyes on Aditi’s bare breasts.
Aditi snatched the garment and, feeling the weight of the woman’s lingering gaze, wrapped herself quickly.
“That’s not the point,” Aditi retorted. “Don’t look at me.”
Urvāśī laughed. “I’ve always found humanity’s self-loathing amusing.”
Aditi frowned. “Why did you make me—why did we have to do—that?”
“It is the nature of my power,” Urvāśī explained. “I heal only through blood, emotion, desire.”
“So, I’m to believe that you merely wanted to help?” Aditi scoffed.
“Oh no,” Urvāśī chuckled. “I have use for you.”
“What do you want?” Aditi demanded.
Urvāśī smiled, extending her hand. “Come.”
It was a request Aditi found she could not refuse. She took her hand, Urvāśī’s soft skin sliding along her own cracked and sun-burnt hands. Urvāśī led her through a collection of chambers and rooms, many of them littered with strange markings and ancient scrolls—all of them abandoned to disuse. Their footfalls rang against the wet limestone, echoing as they moved, until, at last, they reached a narrow passageway that sloped downward. It opened into a chamber so vast it dwarfed anything Aditi had ever known—a subterranean world unlike any above. Aditi’s green eyes scanned the horizon, taking in its majesty.
The cavern stretched endlessly, its vaulted ceiling lost in shadow. Geothermal updrafts birthed clouds that drizzled rain, and bioluminescent spores shimmered above like stars. Massive limestone pillars rose from the cavern floor, while stalactites clung to the lower overhangs, their surfaces glistening with moisture. Rivers of mineral-rich water wound through the stone and spilled into a vast underground lake, its surface reflecting the faint glimmers of Avkolva along the shores. From high above, a waterfall plunged in a shroud of spray, filling the chamber with drifting mist. In the distance rose an enormous city, filled with the hollow remnants of homes, shops, and gathering places long abandoned. Aditi marveled at it all in silence, incredulous.
“I—I’ve never seen so much water in my life,” she said at last.
Urvāśī merely smiled somberly, leading Aditi down a long, winding path toward the shore. When they came upon a fresh-water stream, Aditi fell to her knees and plunged her hands into the current, drinking in great, gasping gulps. When she had finally quenched her thirst, she turned to Urvāśī, overcome with gratitude.
“Thank you,” she said.
Urvāśī nodded and looked out over the lakeshore, a quiet sadness in her eyes.
“For you, water is precious, difficult to find. The sirens, we are born of it—fire and water incarnate. Once, we were as countless as the drops of water in this lake. Now, the lake shrinks, the rivers dry, and I remain alone.”
“What happened?” Aditi asked.
“Genocide,” Urvāśī replied. “The ruling power of the age was insulted by our gods.”
“Your gods—Wēnos, Wēisos?” Aditi prodded.
“Yes.” Urvāśī replied.
“I don’t understand,” Aditi pressed. “There are many competing faiths. Why was yours so dangerous?”
“The truth is always dangerous to those who cling to lies.” Urvāśī smiled, darkness flickering in her expression.
The next few hours carried them to the lakeshore, where Aditi drank deeply once again, before they pressed on into the abandoned city. Urvāśī moved through its empty halls with effortless confidence, as though she had walked them a hundred times before. This place was her home, as familiar as her own skin. Aditi followed more cautiously, but something in her had begun to shift. She no longer felt only fear in the siren’s presence. Power still clung to Urvāśī but so did intrigue. There was a softness beneath the surface, and in her eyes the reflection of a lifetime of pain, a pain Aditi recognized. As they spoke, and Urvāśī recounted the horrors of her childhood and the solitude of her long years, Aditi discovered more kinship than she would have believed possible. Their meeting was no accident. She had been drawn here for a reason. She and Urvāśī were kindred spirits, both survivors of fire and tribulation. She had followed a siren’s call, but it was more than that — it was the reunion of wayward souls. That was why the call had been so potent, so irresistible. This realization filled Aditi with fearful confusion. How could a creature so strange stir in her such yearning?
After a time, they came to a courtyard at the heart of an abandoned church. In its center rose a limestone font, its basin darkly stained by countless offerings. Urvāśī paused before it, her gaze heavy with memory.
“What is it?” Aditi asked.
Urvāśī turned to her, sorrow etched into her features. “When I saved you, I condemned you.”
Aditi stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“A siren’s blood is powerful—transformative,” Urvāśī said. Her voice was low, almost reverent. “It is our gift, and our curse. You have tasted it once. If you do not drink again before the next dawn, the change will fail, and you will die. If you drink, you will live—as a siren.”
“I…I don’t understand.” Aditi stepped back, her voice breaking. “Why did you do this to me?”
“There was no other way,” Urvāśī said softly. “No one else.”
Aditi’s eyes narrowed. Fear and distrust surged back, her hands trembling as she withdrew. “What do you gain?” she demanded.
“The preservation of my kind,” Urvāśī replied, her voice heavy with conviction. “The fulfillment of my purpose—given by the gods.”
Aditi’s hands shook more violently. Urvāśī’s gaze lingered on them as she stepped closer, taking Aditi’s trembling fingers in her own.
“Do you see?” she whispered. “This is the hunger we all suffer. It will consume you.”
She knew Urvāśī was right; the craving was already inside her—for blood, for its warmth, for its sweetness—but the thought defied everything she had ever believed. Her stomach knotted, her mind flooded with guilt. With a sharp pull, she tore her hand free.
“No,” she said flatly. “It is forbidden.”
“Forbidden by whom?” Urvāśī asked, her tone calm, her words cutting. “By the gods who destroyed my people, the ones who sent you into the desert to die?”
“I make my own choices,” Aditi snapped. “My daughter needed food, water, medicine. No one else would go, so I went.”
Urvāśī smiled. “That is why it could only ever be you who drinks.”
Urvāśī moved to the font, fingers tracing the seam along her breast, the flesh parting. Her heart throbbed in the open air, still scarred from the previous sacrifice. With a swift drive of her nails, she pierced her heart again, dark blood spilling down her body and into the font. When the basin was full, she turned to Aditi.
“Of all the lives in all the spiral universe, there has only been one life, and one choice that mattered. So, choose.”
Aditi shook her head, whispering denial, but the hunger tore through her, clawing at her throat, her chest. She staggered forward, clutching her stomach, breath coming ragged, and Urvāśī caught her in her arms, bringing her closer to the font. Aditi’s knees buckled, and she fell before the basin, staring into the blood. Her reflection trembled on its surface, warped, unfamiliar. She fought against the urge to drink, but the scent rising from the blood was unbearable. She plunged her face into the pool, drowning herself in it, gulping it down. Warmth flooded her chest, spreading to her limbs, filling every hollow place inside. She threw her head back and gasped, shuddering, tears streaking her cheeks.
Urvāśī’s hand rested on her shoulder. “That is how it all began,” she mused, “with an unquenchable thirst.”
Aditi met her gaze, blood still dripping from her lips. “Tell me everything.”
