After Rainn had shared his theory with Arden, he noted a marked difference in the siren’s behavior. To the point of hilarity, if the subject hadn’t been too serious to joke about.
As they approached the Nymph village, Rainn noted the similarities between the two creeds with a newfound curiosity.
Though sirens wore scant clothing to allow for their winged appendages, while Nymphs preferred to show skin for more sexual reasons, the two creeds were not shy about nudity.
Both creeds lived somewhat primatively. The sirens favored caves, and the Nymphs favored tents made of skins, on the shores of the lake. Neither building permanent homes for themselves.
As Rainn understood it, Nymphs as a creed were often seen as a scourge. Driven to hiding because of their deviant magic. Not even the most powerful shield could protect from a Nymph’s sexual lure.
Sirens were hunted for their gilded wings, driven into hiding to protect themselves.
The bonfire at the center of the village raged high into the night sky, and the smoke billowed out to join the clouds over the moon.
Though Rainn had not spent as much time in the village as he should have, he knew a tall bonfire meant many things.
Guests.
The village roared with activity as they approached from the shore. The main tents, used for meetings and the like, bulgedwith fae. Many Nymphs rushed about, dragging people in from the shore.
It took a moment for Rainn to realize what he was seeing, though Shay had arrived several minutes before the Selkie and the Siren.
Shay Mac Eoin had sprung into action immediately, pulling the injured Mer from the water and dragging them to the tents to be healed.
The untimely sight of Nymphs writhing in the shadows, as they shored up enough magic to continue healing the scores of injured, was a jarring image Rainn struggled to process, though he knew the logistics ofwhythe Nymphs were fucking amidst the chaos. He’s never thought of the burden of Nymph magic before. To be fed by lust, even when the situation inspired anything but.
Rainn didn’t know how he could help. He didn’t even know what he was looking at.
There were so many Mer. Their scales peeling from their tails, they screamed in agony, unable to form legs due to the pain, even out of the water. Many couldn’t even open their eyes or lift their heads.
He rushed forward, with sloshing steps as he searched for more injured Mer. Arden joined him.
Despite his fatigue, he swam out as far as he could, searching for tails in the water. Rainn couldn’t heal, but he could swim.
He lost count of how many injured Mer he pulled onto the sand.
The line of sunlight on the horizon disappeared, making way for night. The water grew still as a line of Nymphs waited on the sand.
The tents around the fire groaned with the echoes of the Mer’s pain.
The camp smelled of blood and cooked flesh. The sand was coated in discarded scales.
“Are these the survivors, from Tarsainn?” Rainn whispered, the moment the beach grew quiet. “I haven’t seen anything like this since...” But he struggled to think of an answer. Even in the trenches, in the thick of the fighting between the Mer and the Undine, there had been some sense to it all.
But the Mer from the water had been younglings, the elderly, civilians. Not soldiers.
One of the less injured Mer answered him, a youngling no taller than his hip, shivering despite his proximity to the bonfire. “The Undine Queen.” The youngling’s teeth chattered. “She came from the caves, and the lakebed... Opened.”
“Opened?” Rainn turned away from the beach.
“Cracked like a turtle egg.” The fire reflected in the young one’s glassy eyes. “The water bubbled. It was so hot. I’ve never... We don’t have a word for it.”
“Boiled,” Arden said.
Rainn hadn’t heard him approach.
“What of the city?” Rainn asked.
The young Mer shook his head. “The wards... I don’t know. So many died.”
