Once upon a time, the earth was beautiful.
The forests were lush with flora and fauna, a blaze of emerald green and vibrant blooms carpeting the earth beneath mighty roots.
Ocean were blue, without the tarnish of human error and home to a wealth of fish that served the needs of all and sundry.
Great beasts, both friendly and fearsome roamed. Those creatures that now only exist in books and whom science often dismisses as figments of ignorant imagination.
Of course, wars still raged. Tribes and people unwilling to live alongside one another or simply fighting for reasons they no longer knew.
The Gods above despaired, but were too deep in their messes and lives to become puppet masters.
Besides, what good would their gifts of free will be if they had to leap in all the time?
Beyond the line of the sea, where the sun met the horizon and turned the waters red as it melted in the evening, was the island of Verán.
A small island, it was largely uncharted and home to only one tribe. But it was home to many other beings and the rivers and coves were a haven to the beautiful forms.
Women with lithe, nubile bodies, brazen in the manner they displayed them, and faces untouched with age or agony.
The mortals, for the most part, avoided the cove, despite the fine hunting and fishing opportunity. The sweet voices and unearthly song were intoxicating. And if they were not pulled into the depths, they soon wasted away, desperate to hear those tunes again but never able to.
Beneath their beauty was a hollow core, a dark and rotten heart, taking glee in greed and lust.
A twinkle of gold, or a secret never meant to be told, aroused them. One of the reasons the Gods and other divine watchers had little to do with them.
They held knowledge and were privy to secrets never meant for other immortal ears, and certainly not for a mortal.
Sometimes, albeit once in a blue moon, a human made the heart of one of them race, consuming her with a desire deeper than lust for a handsome face.
Such couplings were frowned upon, simply because they could never make a chaste home. She would be bound by the sea, and he to the land.
Any offspring would be a mongrel of the two. Grudgingly accepted but looked down upon. They did, after all, have unique abilities that were a great aid to any village.
-----
"The answer is still no."
Ceto ran a hand through her damp hair, taking the excess water from the bronze locks and shaking her head firmly.
She was perched atop a half-submerged rock, taking in the early rays of the sun. Above, in the cerulean sky, a flock of birds' circled, looking for the small fish that dared to come to the surface.
The bay was quiet. The tracks of the fishermen's boats lining the golden sands nearby, their work starting early after a rainfall in the evening prior. Bringing fish closer and making work easier.
Behind, in the forests, the trees stretched high, blocking the view of the village but allowing a muffled sound of life through their strong arms.
"When I was released, it was under the order that I never return. And why would I want to?"
"Treasure. Wealth." Pasha traced the surface of the calm water. "I can name those two right away. What good is it down there? I doubt he looks at it. Lord Karanos never took any interest in gold or jewels. And the souls that reside there have no use for it now. Why let it rot or just sit there?"
"That's his business. Not mine." Ceto lay back and closed her eyes, allowing the sun to caress her bronzed skin like warm hands. "I'm sorry. But I'm not risking it. I don't want to be trapped there again."
Pasha pouted her lips, kicking her legs out and narrowly missing a silver sprat that dashed past.
"So. What do we do? Those riches, not to mention the secrets and wisdom hidden amongst them, would be a great draw to mortals. Not to mention they look beautiful on us. Seducing a mortal and pushing our will upon him would do not good, they die, poor deals. Kailani still mourns her lost sailor."
Ceto hummed. She remembered the rugged man who had stirred the heart and soul of the older spirit. Their days had been spent in loving and intimate ways, until she needed to return to the seas.
She had surely known that men had no way of breathing under the waves, but she could not leave him. Men were fickle and if she returned, he would surely have found a wife, someone who would be by him for life.
So, she had called and he came, enchanted by the heavenly voice and by the beauty he adored. That angelic face, her hair wafting out with the pull of water, was the last thing he ever saw.
He never even knew...
"...His child..." Ceto sat up abruptly, a smile curling her lips. "Did she not birth a son not long after his demise? He was left in the village; with the relatives I believe. But he could be the answer. What was his name? Did we ever hear that?"
"Demetrius." Pasha answered, pulling herself up onto the rock. "They raised him as a farmhand." She wrinkled her nose. "Hardly a commendable lot in life. Trailing those dry fields and gathering muck. That's all I know, but he could have a better use now. One far more noble, even for a half-breed."
"Indeed. Cur he might be, he still has more superior blood in his veins."
"Enough to be immune from song." Pasha's brow creased with thought. "We'll need help to get him here. Perhaps one of the samodiva will aid us? He will be immune to their charm also, but their presence is unwelcomed in the fields so surely he would be the ideal one to attempt to rid them of her?"
Ceto nodded her agreement. Whilst the samodiva embraced the opposing elements, a being who were akin with the flames, they were more alike than most.
Hostile and dangerous, the men who gazed upon them fall instantly in love, or at least in lust, and women took their own lives at the sight of such beauty.
The two beings enjoyed sharing their macabre tales, bonding over the pleasures of tormenting humans.
"He might be seduced by their dance," she mused. Beginning at midnight and finishing at dawn, their dance was the embodiment the raw energy of both nature and the supernatural world. "If he joins in, they can bring him to us. I know they won't come too close, but a quick shove and he'll be ours."
She laughed lightly, Pasha's musical tones soon joining it.