Far beneath the central waters of Thalassor's deepest trench—far from vaults, crowns, and thrones—lay a realm untouched by time. It was dark. Forgotten. Alive.
And it was calling to her.
The Siren stood alone in a vast cavern of jagged crystals and hollow shells, her long wet hair trailing behind her like a torn veil. Droplets clung to her skin, shimmering in a faint violet hue, the last trace of the vault's glow fading from her.
She blinked slowly, her gaze distant. She wasn't trembling from fear.
She was remembering.
And that was far more dangerous.
The voice in her head—soft and melodic—was no longer Dominic's.
It was hers.
"You are not a servant. You are not a pawn. You are not a gift left behind."
Her bare feet stepped into the shallow tide that crept through the cavern floor, the saltwater swirling with echoes of a time long buried.
Memories poured in like cold rain.
---
Years Ago – The Forbidden Sea
She had once been called Lyrielle.
Not "the Siren."
