Beware the Sirens

Prologue

          I always questioned what happened....what I saw. It took him away and never brought him back. An apparition. Something recreated from a child's nightmare, but appearing so very real. It was real. I swear it was.

          It was mesmerizing, yet I never knew that such beauty could cause so much pain and destruction.

                              I never knew what I saw.

                                          Not until it was too late.

          It was a cool summer evening in Blenheim Heights, Ireland, right on the outskirts of Waterford. It was murky, leaving the air thick in the wake of a major storm that had previously rolled through. The vast farmlands quickly turned into marshes, and dirt easily integrated into the muddy ground. Ominous grey clouds no longer swirled in crazed patterns above and were slowly beginning to disperse, leaving pinholes of waning sunlight to peek through. It had been a massive storm, yet no one seemed concerned. There was never a reason to be.

          There was a wide river that flowed alongside the small town, known to the locals as the River Suir. Visitors often stayed away from those waters, for signs of death usually flowed from them. Of course the locals looked at these myths as no more than fantasy stories....stories that intrigued few and terrified many.

          Amongst those who cared not of the myths that succumbed the river was a local by the name of Ailsa Mackenzie. The river was often a place where she and her brother would come to unwind, a place where no one dared to follow.

A place of peace.

                                                             •    •    •

          "Ninian! Come on, would ye," shouted Ailsa. A large wolfhound hastened towards the tall woman, coming to a halt at her feet. Ailsa ran her narrow fingers through matted grey fur, removing bits of dry dirt mixed with mud.

          "Now I told ye not te go rollin' in the dirt again, didn't I? Ye crazy animal," a small smile graced her lips as she continued to run her fingers through dirty fur. Ninian wasn't a perfect dog, and as intimidating as his size may have been, he was still nothing more than a giant teddy bear to the young Irish woman. Ailsa kneeled down and was almost knocked backwards by Ninian as he tried to lick her face. As she fell backwards onto her rear, a soft laughter emanated from the young woman, only making the large dog wag his tail more.

          "Mo dheirfiúr, are ye comin'? We don't have all day," a gruff voice called from the distance. Ninian perked his ears, staring at the figure as if frozen for a few mere seconds. Before she knew it, he had forgot his original goal, and took off into a sprint. Ailsa looked over her shoulder to see none other than her brother, Jason, standing there. Ninian had raced over to him, only to jump as if he were giving her dear brother a hug.

          "Down, boy! Yer messin' up my shirt!" He shouted as the dog left dirty pawprints all over the blue and green plaid. Ninian scampered back over towards Ailsa, unsure how to handle Jason's sudden anger.

          "Ninian sure takes a likin' to ye." Ailsa laughed, much to her brother's dismay. She rose to her feet while he patted his shirt, struggling to wipe off the dirt and mud concoction left by the overly excited mutt.

          "I'm sure ye find it so funny," he said. She was very much amused by the annoyance in his voice, but before she had a chance to say anything, Jason said, "well, let's get goin'. Connor's waitin' for us by the grove."