Satyr’s Children | Book 1: Siren
Argentum’s silver hair fell around Triton like a waterfall, completely obscuring the boy’s face. The pale hands of the Serket rested gently against either side of his head.
“Relax, child. Don’t resist.”
Triton cried out in pain, the sound distorted by the gag clenched between his teeth, reduced to something like a ragged gasp trapped in his throat as though he had just awakened from a nightmare.
Ali pressed herself tightly against the cold wall of the treatment room, biting her lip hard. She watched as the runes temporarily drawn across the floor lit up one after another. Their pulsing glow surged in waves toward the center of the magic circle, where Triton sat restrained tightly to a stone chair by binding straps.
“Are you able to hold on, child?” Argentum’s voice was gentle, almost like a lullaby. “Shh… take a deep breath, Triton. I have to dispel the lingering essence of ‘Ending’ from the wound before I can make way for ‘Rebirth.’ This is fundamental. And there is no way to avoid it.”
Ali could not see her brother’s face, but she could vividly imagine the gruesome wound exposed to the air now that his bandages had been removed, and his body spasming violently under unbearable pain.
“Now, tell me. What was the color of your horn?” Argentum picked up the sealed crystal vial from the treatment table and lightly tapped it with his finger.
The runes and beeswax sealing it dissolved soundlessly. Inside, the iridescent liquid that flowed ceaselessly like mercury, constantly dividing and rejoining, suddenly stirred to life, billowing like mist-shrouded waters.
“My horn…” Triton’s voice was muffled and indistinct. “Ugh… white?”
“What kind of white?” Argentum drew a single drop of the “Primordial Growth Factor” toward his fingertip. The liquid did not fall. Instead, it hovered in the air, a slender filament of light stretching between it and his finger, sparkling with countless pinpricks of starlight. “Pearl’s soft luster? Ivory’s gentle warmth? The austere brilliance of snow and ice? The quiet radiance of moonlight? Or…”
Before he could finish, the iridescent droplet connected to his fingertip was drawn toward the broken base of Triton’s horn.
“Ughhh—!”
A cry of pain that he could no longer suppress burst from Triton’s throat. His entire body convulsed violently; without the restraints holding him down, he would have been thrown off from the stone chair.
“Deep breaths, Triton.” Argentum’s voice remained as steady as ever, the iridescent glow circling above the boy’s head in time with his fingertips. “Let the ‘seed’ take root in your wound. Don’t resist it…”
Are Mom and Dad really watching from outside?
Ali anxiously turned her head toward the small observation window in the treatment-room door. Every agonizing scream came from her brother felt like a needle stabbing straight through her heart, leaving her unable to sit still. But she didn’t regret insisting on staying.
At least… At least he knows I’m here… Right?
“Feel it, Triton.” Argentum’s hand never left the boy’s head. Ali imagined that the Serket had perhaps closed all of his eyes, gathering every ounce of his attention around the droplet of liquid suspended from his fingertip. “Let the shape of that horn come to your mind. Its texture, its curve… Your body knows. Guide that memory. Let it grow according to the image you carry within you.”
Then Argentum tucked the silver hair falling beside his face behind his ear and stepped back slightly, fully revealing Triton’s head, as though deliberately exposing it to his parents behind the observation window and to Ali standing nearby.
At the circular break in the right side of the boy’s forehead, bone, nerves, blood vessels… every layer of tissue was proliferating and reconstructing at a terrifying speed visible to the naked eye.
First, the soft, milky-white bone pushed through the skin. Then, like branches shooting from a tree, it rapidly lengthened and took shape, accompanied by a fine, unnerving crackling sound.
“Sir Argentum…” Triton struggled to lift his head. Sweat soaked through his gray-black hair as he tried to look toward the Serket. “If… this medicine is… so powerful… then why… didn’t you use it… to save Bert…?”
“When Bert was brought back to the estate, the flame of his life had already gone out completely, and his soul had long since departed.” Argentum gently stroked the boy’s damp hair, soothing him like a child trapped in a nightmare.
“‘Primordial Growth Factor’ can awaken residual vitality and guide it into rapid regeneration. But it cannot create life from nothing, nor can it call back a departed soul. The reason it can heal your horn is because its bony core is still there. It retains its vitality. It was simply severely injured.”
The iridescent medicine no longer needed to be guided by Argentum’s fingertips. It now poured steadily from the crystal vial of its own accord, clinging to the horn as it continued to grow atop Triton’s head.
He paused, his voice growing solemn.
“If it was forcibly administered to a corpse, the most likely outcome would not be resurrection, but the birth of an immortal living corpse driven by nothing but the urge to grow. It might move, walk, and even retain fragments of the memories it possessed in life. But it would not be Gilbert Morningdew, rather, a terrifying monster, incapable of thought and driven only by instinct. And that, would be the greatest desecration of the dead.”
… So that’s why. Ali leaned against the wall and let out a soft sigh.
About an hour later, the regeneration had visibly slowed, no longer keeping pace with Triton’s intermittent moans of pain.
On the young Satyr’s forehead, a curved horn almost indistinguishable from the one he had lost had finally become clearly visible. Its color was slightly more luminous, its texture softer than before, but otherwise it was nearly identical.
“Hold on, child. We’re almost there, just one more step.” Argentum raised a hand and drew energy from the magic array. Like a craftsman quenching a freshly forged blade, a halo enveloped the newly grown horn, accelerating its hardening and setting its final form. “You’ve done very well so far…”
At last, Argentum released his hand.
“It’s done.” The words had barely left his lips when all the strength seemed to drain from Triton’s body at once. His head lolled helplessly to one side against the stone chair, and he slipped into a deep unconsciousness. The white horn, perfect and curved like a scimitar, gleamed upon his forehead, shimmering with the radiance of new life.
“Sir Argentum, my brother… is he all right?” Ali asked hoarsely from the corner.
“He’ll need to sleep for about a day before he can make a full recovery. As for the horn, it must be protected carefully for the next few days. Once it hardens to its original extent, there should be no further cause for concern.” Argentum turned toward the girl and gave her a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you let your parents come in and take a look as well? They should see whether your brother’s new horn is just like the one he had before.”
After Triton was moved to the recovery ward, David gently ruffled Ali’s hair with his broad hand before silently taking a seat beside his son’s bed. He enclosed the boy’s limp hand within his own, holding it tightly. Solin, meanwhile, quietly came over to her daughter and slipped a small pouch of coins, still warm from her hand, into Ali’s sweaty palm.
“… What is this for?” Ali blinked her mint-green eyes and looked up in confusion.
“You’ve worked hard staying by your brother’s side all these days, little mermaid.” Her mother lovingly stroked her cheek. “Why don’t you go relax at Stone Spring Baths?”
“But Trit—”
“Go, Ali.” Solin bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to her daughter’s forehead. Her Satyr’s fluffy curls brushed against Ali’s nose, making it tickle enough to almost bring a sneeze. “Go soak in the baths and let the hot water wash away the tiredness from your body and the worries in your heart. Your father and I will stay here. The moment your brother wakes up, we’ll tell you.”
She leaned closer to Ali’s ear and lowered her voice even more.
“Go to the small bath. Use some of the new soap pods, and buy yourself a cup of your favorite fermented fruit juice… Consider this a little gift from Mom and Dad.”
Ever since they had been attacked in the Stone Church Forbidden Zone, Ali had either been sitting vigil beside her brother’s bed or lying down under orders to rest. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to use the bathtub at home. No one had been in the mood for such things these past few days anyways, though. Everyone was either at the infirmary or on the way there. They barely had time to cook a proper meal, let alone heat enough water to fill the bathtub.
She had almost forgotten that the rising steam and warm water enveloping her body had once possessed a strange kind of magic—the power to soothe her.
But Solin remembered. She remembered her daughter, her little mermaid had always loved a good bath.
What now…
Ali lowered her head, her nose suddenly stinging.
Mom, you… Haven’t you always loved Triton the most…?
And so Ali clutched the pouch of coins tightly and made her way alone to the Northwatch’s public bathhouse—the Stone Spring Baths.
The building was grand in scale, occupying a place somewhere between the rugged austerity of the Trailblazers’ Guild and the refined elegance of the Morningdew estate. Simply carved stone arches were built throughout the structure, giving it an imposing grandeur softened by a plain, familiar warmth.
Ali pushed open the heavy front door with some effort. A wave of hot, humid air rushed over her face, followed by the ceaseless murmur of running water and the indistinct hum of voices echoing against the stone walls.
Ali often forgot that, by the Northwatch’s standard, her family was actually solidly middle class.
Back when she and Triton attended the Guild school, they could come home every day to a hot, freshly prepared meal and enjoy a comfortable hot bath. That was by no means something every child in Polaris could take for granted. Many children from commoner families had to make do with cheap, monotonous food just to fill their stomachs, and bathing was something to be carefully budgeted for—at most, they could afford to visit a public bathhouse once or twice a week.
Indeed, private homes with their own bathing facilities were uncommon in the Northwatch.
Most people who came to the bathhouse would spend a few coppers to enter the great bath known as the “Warrior’s Bath.”
It was a gigantic pool fed by the nearby hot springs, perpetually bustling with people, its air thick with the mingled smells of sweat, dust, and sulfur. This was the central social gathering place where Trailblazers, artisans, and soldiers could relax their muscles after a long day of work, exchange news, and laugh and talk at the top of their lungs. Aside from the taverns, it was the city’s other great whirlpool of information and rumor. It was just that the great bath was strictly divided into men’s and women’s baths by stone walls, so the information circulating within them consequently differed by gender to some extent.
The smaller baths, known as the “Artisan’s Bath,” cost slightly more than the great bath, but were still within the reach of an ordinary commoner’s daily budget.
This area consisted of several small private stalls and quieter pools. In addition to the basic sulfur springs, it provided simple bathing supplies such as fresh soap pods and sponges, and even offered limited quantities of mildly fermented drinks such as light beer and apple cider. The water here was cleaner, and the surroundings more peaceful. Artisans, small shopkeepers, junior clerks, and young people like Ali who simply wanted a little privacy and a more comfortable bathing experience often came here.
At the very back of the bathhouse were several fragrant pools, known as the “Festival Springs,” whose prices were considerably higher and which could be rented by the hour or reserved privately.
When Ali graduated from the Guild school, her classmates had once pooled together what they considered a “fortune” to rent one of those. She remembered that the private room had been decorated with considerably more care. Young pine branches, lavender, and other local herbs and spices were added to the water. Softer towels and finer soaps were provided, and guests could order a wider variety of fermented drinks—mead, berry wine, etc.—as well as simple snacks such as griddle cakes and nut bread.It was the center of celebration for ordinary people. Birthdays, successful missions, graduation parties—a private fragrant pool was one of the most popular choices for any of them. They were always filled with laughter and cheerful voices, one of the rare luxuries and bright spots in the ordinary years of life in the Northwatch.
Perhaps it was because she was in low spirits, or perhaps because she wanted to scrub the memory of her brother’s agonized moans completely out of her mind, Ali didn’t feel like going to the quiet little baths today. She shed her clothes, stepped into the sulfur-scented water, and walked straight into the bustle of the great bath, drifting aimlessly with the noisy, crowded tide of people.
“… That man… Oh that man is damned. How could anyone do something so heinous…”
“… Have you heard? That bakery in the north of the city puts far too many poppy seeds in its bread dough…”
The little fragments of conversation around her swept past Ali’s ears like the wind, leaving her with an inexplicable feeling of hollowness.
“… Dead! Every last one of them! Not a single person came back! All they left behind was a pair of children…”
“… Poor things. What will happen to them now…? Is no one going to do anything…?”
Perhaps… I’m actually looking for someone? But who—
“… Fero? Is that you?”
Ali stopped.
There was only one person in the entire world who would call her “Fero.”
“… Maria?” Ali lifted her head, searching desperately through the billowing steam and shifting silhouettes.
Where are you?
“Over here—!”
Ali felt her heartbeat miss a beat without warning, only to begin pounding wildly against her chest a second later.
“Maria!” She pushed her way through the crowd toward the voice. “Don’t move! I’m coming!”
How long had it been since she last saw Maria?
Two years and one hundred forty-two days. A long time—long enough that Ali had almost forgotten that her life was made up of more than just her parents and her brother. But still not long enough, because she could still clearly recall the rose-colored scales layered across the girl’s cheeks like petals.
Maria was tall, with a pair of translucent blue, sharply pointed, fin-like ears. Her eyes were the softest shade of pink Ali had ever seen, delicately set against sclera as black as night. Just like Ali’s mother, Solin, Maria possessed a beautiful otherness that was almost unsettling. She was one year older than Ali, close enough in age to be considered a peer. Because they possessed similar abilities, they were often assigned to the same classes at the Guild school.
But Ali was half-blooded. Her abilities were nowhere near as powerful as Maria’s, who was a pure-blooded Siren. Ali could hold her breath underwater for fifteen minutes at most. Maria could breathe freely beneath the surface. Ali’s singing voice was hoarse and painfully off-key, while Maria’s voice, on the other hand, was always graceful and melodious…
Whenever Ali stood beside Maria, she felt like a defective model, an “unqualified Siren.”
But Maria had been the one to suggest that perhaps Ali’s condition could be improved through practice.
At some point, Ali had started to tell Triton, “You go home first! I’m going to the baths with Maria to practice!”
After graduating, Ali had seemingly forgotten Maria for a long time. Yet her mind had carefully preserved every memory of that girl.
“Fero… it’s really you.”
Oh, right. Maria also had olive-colored skin and long, dark-blue hair. Her wavy locks always reminded Ali of the surface of the sea during a storm.
“Where were you?”
Ali had never expected this to be the first thing she would say upon seeing an old friend again. She was almost startled by the accusation so plainly audible in her own words.
“Why couldn’t I find you anywhere? Were you deliberately avoiding me?”
“I…”
Maria’s blue hair was just as Ali remembered it, except that it was no longer tied back and instead hung wet and loose around her shoulders. Her rose-colored eyes still glimmered brightly against their pitch-black sclera…
“Fero, let’s talk somewhere private. Let’s find somewhere with no one around…” The girl suddenly reached out and seized Ali tightly by the wrist, dragging her toward a more secluded corner of the bathhouse with an almost pleading urgency. “Please… there are too many people here…”
“Okay, then let’s go to the smaller baths—” Ali turned, trying to pull her to the opposite direction.
“No, Fero. I… I don’t have money…” Maria lowered her head, her voice timid.
A cold sense of unease quietly seized Ali’s heart.
Didn’t we always go to the smaller baths together?
“… But I do.” Without hesitation, Ali tightened her grip on the blue-haired girl’s hand. “My mother gave me some money. If we don’t buy any drinks, there’ll be enough for both of us.”
What happened to you, Maria?
“… My parents are dead, Fero. It’s just me and my little brother now.”
Maria’s voice was so soft that it was almost swallowed by the sound of the water around them.
“They lay in the Guild infirmary for days. I spent every last coin our family had, but I still couldn’t save them…” Maria gazed at the ripples spreading across the surface of the bath. The wavering water seemed to ripple into Ali’s eyes as well, blurring her vision. “Before my mother died, she told me, ‘I’m sorry, Maria. We couldn’t take you home. Take good care of your brother, and take him home.’”
Ali listened in silence. She remembered House Faience’s obsession.
They had been exiled from the royal capital of Celadon, and Maria’s parents had taken dangerous mission after dangerous mission, desperately accumulating achievements and money, all so that one day they could return in glory with their children.
But House Faience might never be able to return home.
A pang of sorrow tightened in Ali’s chest. She knew very well that, like her mother Solin, Mr. and Mrs. Faience hadn’t failed because they were incompetent. They had become victims in the political struggles of the royal capital simply because their demonic traits—the very blood that flowed through their veins—was feared by the powerful.
Ali had never told Maria this cruel truth.
Maria had vanished without a trace not long after graduation. Ali had searched for her frantically, but had never found a single clue.
Only now did she understand that it had not been a simple loss of contact. Under the crushing weight of her new life, Maria had deliberately severed every connection with her past, including her “Fero.”
“The compensation… and your brother’s school tuition, were not enough?”
Ali’s throat felt dry. She forced herself to pull away from her memories. She already knew the answer. But she needed to hear Maria say it herself, to understand just how desperate her situation had truly become.
“It’s not enough…” Maria shook her head bitterly. Her deep-blue hair clung damply to her velvet-soft olive cheeks. “Not nearly enough. Until… I met him.”
“Fero, I’m getting married next month.”
Maria told Ali that she would be moving into her fiancé’s residence tomorrow to begin making preparations for the wedding. He was a male Siren who claimed to be from the royal capital of Celadon, but forty years older than her. He had promised that as long as Maria bore him a pure-blooded Siren child, serving as a “vessel” to carry on his bloodline, he would take her and her younger brother to the royal capital and guarantee that they would have a worriless life for the rest of their lives.
“I heard he’s very wealthy. His house… has a bathtub.”
Maria added the last part softly, with a bitter smile at the corners of her lips.
His house… has a bathtub?
Ali’s heart sank. The hot water enveloped her bare body, yet chills ran down her spine.
… No. Something was wrong. It was wrong in so many ways.
“Maria…” Ali seized her friend’s wrist, gripping it almost hard enough to leave marks. “If he’s really that wealthy, then why won’t he give you enough money to use the small baths at Stone Spring?”
How dare he treat you like this? How could you endure being treated so poorly?
Ali’s expression must have looked terrifying, because she noticed Maria’s tall body visibly shrank back. The girl avoided her gaze in panic.
“… He said we need to save our money. There will be many other things to spend it on later.”
“How did he prove that he’s from the capital, then?” Ali felt as though an icy hand had closed around her heart and crushed it in its grip. She stepped closer, her voice growing urgent. “By all means, does he have anything to prove it? Or are you simply taking his word for it?”
Tell me he’s a liar. Please, tell me none of this is true.
“He… he has the accent of the capital. And the way he carries himself… he seems very much like a nobleman…” Maria’s voice grew quieter, utterly unconvincing.
“What guarantee do you have that he’ll keep his promise?” Ali’s voice trembled slightly with agitation. She could almost taste dread in her own words. “Is there a written agreement? Have you asked the Guild to run a background check on him? Or asked anyone with proper authority to verify his identity?”
Don’t go. Don’t go with him. Stay here… I…
“Fero!”
Maria suddenly yanked her hand free. Tears welled up in her rose-colored eyes, and she looked so hurt that it was almost as though Ali were the one who had driven her to the edge of the cliff.
“Why are you like this?! This is my only chance! I have to keep my brother and myself living, and fulfill my parents’ last wish! Other than trusting him, what else am I supposed to do?!”
Ali suddenly understood.
Maria knew everything.
She knew about all the holes in his story. She knew this might be a pit of fire.
But she had no other choice.
She had to cling with all her strength to this seemingly life-saving straw, even if it was covered in thorns, even if it meant slicing her soft hands open until they were bloody with scars.
Enough. She had heard enough…
Ali suddenly felt an almost hysterical urge to laugh.
Why did fate have to toy with her like this?
When Triton was injured, there was nothing she could do. She could only watch helplessly as her brother writhed and struggled in agony, until his body was swallowed beneath those black wings that looked like an omen of death.
Steam curled between her and Maria, blurring her vision.
But… the song Maria had trained her to sing had ultimately, at the very limits of her strength, driven away those two anomalies that had tried to do something to her brother.
Perhaps that meant something. Perhaps, perhaps…
“Maria.” Ali gently touched her friend’s fingers, then entwined them with her own, interlacing them in the gentlest motion she could manage. “Listen to me.”
Maria lifted her tearful eyes and looked at her in confusion.
“I remember that it has been two years and one hundred forty-two days since we parted. I remember the shape of every scale on your cheeks. I remember the color of your eyes, like… like the gentlest dawn settling over the pitch-black sea.”
“Do you know how ridiculous I am?” Ali gave her a sad smile. “I used to think the reason I remembered everything about you so clearly was because I was jealous of you. Jealous of your more beautiful, more melodious singing voice. Jealous of the way you looked more like a ‘real Siren’ than I ever could. Jealous of how much stronger you were, and how much more magical potential you had…”
She paused, her mint-green eyes fixed unwaveringly on the girl before her.
“Yes, Maria. I was jealous of you. But the truth is… I think how much I liked you has long since gone beyond that tiny, insignificant jealousy.”
All right, Ali. Now there’s no turning back.
But… that’s all right.
“I know saying all this now may seem strange. It may not… change anything at all.” Ali’s voice trembled, but she forced herself to continue.
“But I have to tell you. I want you to know that, in this world, there is at least one person who genuinely… loves you. Not because you’re some ‘pure-blooded vessel’ capable of bearing a certain kind of child. Not because I want to use money or anything else to hold power over you. Just because you are Maria Faience. My Maria, the powerful Maria who called me ‘Fero,’ and made me so jealous of you.”
“You probably don’t know this…” Ali swallowed. “But thanks to all those times you practiced singing with me, my voice eventually saved my brother. Do you remember my twin brother? I used to tell you about him all the time. His name is Triton. He has a pair of white horns on top of his head…”
Ali slowly stepped forward and gently embraced the tall blue-haired girl, burying her face against her warm chest.
“I think… that’s enough to prove that you and I aren’t completely powerless when it comes to fate. Look, fate has been so cruel to you, and yet somehow, it still brought me back to you.”
“So please, think about it again, all right? There must be more than one way to get to the capital. We can figure something out together. I can help you, maybe my parents can too… There has to be another way. You don’t have to… sell yourself to do this.”
“You shouldn’t be treated this way, Maria…”
“You deserve better.”
