HĀROS BARTOSSI | DAEMON T.

[ 𝟎𝟔 ]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊

── •✧• ── ⋆⋅༻✦༺⋅⋆ ── •✧• ──

Maevys was a young lady of many talents, though she bore the heavy curse of being a bastard daughter. Her beauty and grace were undeniable, yet they were only a fraction of what made her formidable. She was a living weapon, a double-edged sword with as much power in her mind as in her hands. Her knowledge was vast, her heart kind, and her skills as a Dragonrider were unmatched. But it was not just in the heat of battle that she was dangerous— her mastery of the harp could be just as lethal, her music a hidden weapon, capable of cutting as deeply as any blade. 

Music had always been a constant presence of Maevys's childhood, intertwined into the fabric of her earliest memories. After being accepted into the Velaryon family, her mother, Rhaenys, would often visit her in the shadowed quarters where she was confined— deep beneath the soils of High Tide, far from the world above. During these visits, Rhaenys would hum an ancient folk song, its haunting melody offering both solace and comfort. The song would drift through the cold, desolate chambers where Maevys spent her lonely nights; its soft refrain was the only thing that eased her to sleep. 

Even in her teenage years, the song remained a cherished memory, a thread that connected her to her past. She learned it by heart from her mother, who sang it countless times. And whenever Maevys found herself alone, as she often did as she grew up, she would sing it in turn. The melody would echo through the empty chambers, and her voice would reverberate off the stone walls. Yet, in spite of its unsettling eerieness, it felt like a comfort to her— as if the echoes themselves were ghosts, singing along with her.

It was also the same song that she sang when she claimed Vermaelyon for the first time— her voice rising with the same haunting melody that had soothed her in her darkest moments.

Try as Maevys could to hide her talent, eventually, they were exposed to Corlys when he caught her singing one day. He was so astonished by the sound that he could only stare, speechless, at the child who poured her heart into each note. Her voice, haunting yet gentle and crystal-clear, was unlike anything he had ever heard. For a moment, he even wondered if he had ascended to the gods of the other world. The experience felt surreal, and as Maevys's song filled the air, it reminded him of the myths he had heard during his voyages, stories of mesmerising sirens who lured unwary sailors to their deaths with their sweet, beguiling voices.

It was then did Maevys earned another new name, one that would follow her beyond the shadow of her illegitimacy: The Siren of Driftmark.

From that moment forth, the Seasnake became her most devoted patron. Whenever new treasures arrived from his voyages, such as rare relics and prized artefacts, he would eagerly present them to his children and wife. But of the array of gifts, it was the instruments that captured his attention the most. 

Corlys became especially enthusiastic about sharing them with Maevys. As the vision of her being a siren whispered behind his head, he encouraged her to learn to play, to add yet another skill to her growing list of talents. 

To his delight, Maevys was drawn to one particular piece among the relics— a finely polished ornamental high harp, its delicate beauty stood out to her among the others. Her Stepfather, though pleased, believed she was captivated simply because he had pointed it out to her. However, Maevys's fascination ran deeper when she assured him otherwise. It was the intricate craftsmanship of the instrument that she admired: the graceful waves that curled around the pillars and the sculpted dragon at the crown, its wings wrapping protectively around the structure as if guarding the music within, and the jewelled turquoise-coloured marquise-cut aquamarine that was embedded in the dragon's eyes.