Siren's Kiss

45 - Birds of a Feather

"The Grandmaster, Valerian Bloodstone, is dead."

This was the first news Lucius received from his spy—both unpleasant and unexpected. He was on his way back to the capital, preparing to celebrate the Nerevarus Festival, when he learned of his sorcerer's fate. Now, a shaken Lucius Shadowbane stared into his martini glass, where the furious face of Lady Maris glared up at him from between the olives.

"I still don't know how he was killed or who did it, my lady. I know how much that pirate's untimely death would have cheered you up, and I've been trying my best—"

"Clearly, your best isn't good enough!" Lady Maris hissed, gritting her teeth. "I want my grandson; how difficult could that be?"

Lucius struggled to remain calm. He couldn't afford to lose his composure. He hadn't expected Valerian to be defeated—hadn't even considered it possible. Was it his mistake to underestimate the siren prince's chosen mate or his companions? Regardless, losing Valerian was a significant blow.

"Perhaps if you could grant me one more chance..."

"Another chance?" Lady Maris's voice rose sharply, making it clear their conversation was heading nowhere. "There's only one Lost Isle, and Ciel is destined to be there. The festival is tomorrow, you spineless slug! You're out of chances!"

Lucius bit down nervously on his lower lip, trying to suppress his anxiety. He knew what she meant, but he wanted to believe there was still a way out of this mess. "My Lady, I know what to do next. All I need is—"

But she was done with his empty promises and cut him off completely. "I'm coming!" she screamed in fury. "I'm coming, and I'm bringing hell with me. I WILL KILL THAT LITTLE PIRATE CAPTAIN WRETCH MYSELF!"

Crack.

The glass in Lucius's hand suddenly shattered under the force of her voice, and every bottle of liquor in the cargo box exploded like a chain of firecrackers, sending tiny shards flying.

●～●～●～●～●

The late afternoon sun lingered above the horizon, casting vibrant rays over the ocean below. Hidden deep within the sea was a kingdom so enchanting it seemed to belong only in legends.

Thalassara.

The city beneath the sea never slept. Sure enough, an exhausted Lady Maris clutched a display trophy tightly, listening with little comprehension as Lucius' voice echoed from a pot of boiling soup that stirred itself continuously.

"No one wanted this to happen," were Lucius' final words. "I realize this was a plan we both agreed on, and it should've been executed before your grandchild even set foot on that island, but everything changed because—"

"SILENCE!"

The magic abruptly faded, and Lucius's voice disappeared. Lady Maris was left panting heavily, her gaze distant as her mind raced. The thought that her grandson was nearing the completion of his goal, guided by the Phoenix God's orders, sent a shiver through her.

The Phoenix God.

She had done everything in her power to erase the gods and their memories from Ciel's mind. From his childhood, Lady Maris had closely monitored his progress, ensuring that certain mysteries remained buried. It would have worked, too, if Ciel hadn't begun dreaming of the Phoenix God, convinced he was destined for something far greater. She clenched her jaw, recalling how it was Nerissa who had encouraged Ciel to believe in the deity known for resetting worlds.

Not wanting to interfere with what seemed inevitable, she persuaded her son, King Cyraeni, to treat Ciel as if he were as fragile as glass, restricting his freedom and keeping him from seeing the world from different perspectives. She tried to imprison him without ever laying a hand on him. But Ciel had become consumed by his dreams, increasingly captivated by the belief that the Phoenix God was trying to communicate something important to him—a task that might be tied to the power he once considered a weakness: his tears, which turned into pearls.