Lorelei

We are children who belong nowhere. So home is wherever our family is.'

Eleven years ago, a shipwreck left a drifting branch of the Landis family stranded on Sapphire Isle. There, Lorelei found a new home. She learned to live as humans do, to speak as they speak—believing those simple days might last forever.

Until the Black Blood swept across the Isle. Until a Bell Ringer reduced her second home to ash. Until the ones she once called family became the very Lords who caged her kin. She found herself caught between the two.

Humans had once given her warmth… and bound her with sin.

The land had offered her shelter… and became the grave where she buried her soul.

The dream of turning Sapphire Isle into a land of joy has fractured. Lorelei bid her final farewell to this world, leaving behind nothing but a tainted name and a broken Siren's Tear. In the Sage's office, her personal belongings had been completely cleared away. I saw how she had spent a fortune in the auction house, we exchanged thoughts about the Mistbound Terror, and we hatched our last plan together. Yet that brilliant woman vanished without a trace, as if she too had been nothing more than an illusion woven by the devices on Sapphire Isle.

The broken Siren's Tear lay on the table, its luster dulled by the passage of time. From deep within, it stirred a whisper of song.

A young girl stood at the weathered bow of a ship, softly humming to the moon.

By the time she was born, the Pillars of Hercules had long since vanished beneath the waves. Her people had become wanderers, adrift on the sea. Her mother had told her, that they were like fish, and the currents chose their path.

She had not yet learned to turn her tentacles into legs, nor to speak the language of humans. But her song carried a quiet yearning—what lay beyond the waters, on those distant, unknown shores?

For a long time after, no song came from the Siren's Tear. Then one day, I accidentally spilled wine on it—the pooled surface shimmered with a vision:

A maiden held a letter from the north, pressed close to her heart.

It spoke of the biting chill of those distant lands, so unlike the warm summers of Sapphire Isle; Of dry mornings with wind carrying grains of sand; Of being well—her moments of awakening growing longer.

She had read the letter countless times, clinging to it through long days of captivity and pain, holding fast to the hope of reunion.

The vision vanished without warning. In desperation, I drenched the Siren's Tear in every kind of liquor I had—At last, another glimpse.

Behind the prison bars, a masked guard slipped the maiden an envelope, saying: 'From the Mysterious Merchant.'

Could it be from her friend? Could that all-purpose Merchant truly deliver letters even into the depths of Hallon's prison?

For a moment, hope bloomed in her chest—

No. It was a command from the Master. A cruel snare, meant to make her a puppet. To force a choice between betraying her family or her friends. Throw it away. Tear it up.

But I could only stand outside the Siren's Tear, watching helplessly as it all unfolded.

The Siren's Tear no longer responded to wine. I tried again and again, desperate to glimpse more of her hidden past.

Until one day, a drop of blood from my wounded hand spilled across its surface. And suddenly, I was pulled back to the old Sapphire Isle.

It was opening day at the auction house. Renowned merchants scoffed at the rules. Nobles turned up their noses and left. Only thugs remained, hungry for easy spoils.

Some smashed coral from the sea, then demanded 'compensation.' The young auctioneer stood trembling, encircled and helpless.

From behind the curtain, a red-haired woman stepped out with quiet grace. 'Leave the poor girl be. Perhaps I can offer compensation instead?'

Her face was entrancing, and her eyes flamed.

A ruffian sneered, lifted his sword to toy with her hair—but before anyone could blink, the man's hand had hit the floor. She stood there, faster than sight, calm and lethal.

'Who the [beep] are you?' the ruffian roared.

'Lorelei,' she replied. 'Acting manager of the Sapphire Isle auction house.' Blood spattered across her cheek—bright as her fiery hair. I reached out, trying to wipe it away, though I could only watch.

And just for a second… it felt like she looked right at me.

At night, I dreamed I was once again aboard the great ship of Sapphire Isle.

Constantine wiped the blood from his blade, turning to her with practiced calm. 'These test subjects are no longer of use. Dispose of them.'

'You know best how to silence them... without those dreadful screams.'

The dying sirens glared at the woman, their fins rising stiff and sharp. Their cries pierced the air, shrill with fury.

Even without understanding their language, one could sense the hatred, the betrayal from the once-kin.

She gave no reply. One by one, she moved behind each captive, sliding her blade into the base of the skull—severing the spine, then angling upward to destroy the point where body and soul met.

Each siren fell silent as blood burst forth, consciousness vanishing in an instant. Their curses died mid-breath.

Siren blood ran darker than a human's, and it streaked across her cheek like a wound carved by guilt.

I offered her a handkerchief. She took it—but did not use it.

'Why trouble yourself, little one?' she asked.

'This blood carries sins long etched into my soul, a mark I can never wash away.'

Several letters addressed to Sage Lorelei arrived, but no one was there to receive them. A wine seller eventually forwarded them to me.

'…A year ago, I left the Isle to pursue trade. Thanks to your funding, I've established a shop in Eastdale. You're always welcome to vacation here.'

'…Payment for our next transaction remains outstanding. Please note that, starting next month, we will no longer handle live cargo at the abandoned port in Sapphire Isle. Restoration, disguise, and relocation services will also be…'

Were these unclaimed letters truly the end of her story?

No. It couldn't end like this…