Maybe I'll forget that night because everything that happened in it was wrapped in fog.
… … …
I was still less than a year old. And in the cold attic, if it wasn't for the furs Shirley had wrapped me in, it might've killed me.
Thialis—my village—was cold most nights of the year. Even if snow didn't often fall, the chill alone struck through my bones.
And that night, strange voices slipped into my light sleep.
"Oh my God, the features of Altonpard"
Altonpard?
Who or what was this Tonbard?
More importantly… who spoke?
Had I not been half-asleep with closed eyes, I'd have thought I was dreaming. But there were no signs of dreams. I was reasonably aware, seeing only darkness, but hearing women whisper around me.
The strange voices continued.
"But his hair, it's the green hair of that mangy woman," said another voice, different from the first.
"That's Shirley, his wife. Don't call her mangy," snapped a third voice, sharper than the others. It was followed by the sound of an inhale, the crackle of embers… and then the soft hiss of an exhale, followed by the scent of smoke.
That's when I opened my eyes.
"Sister Vinstel, it seems he's awake," one of them said.
It was a strange sight. Three women. Two of them were kneeling by my sides, faces bent close, staring intently at me. The third stood before me, a woman with a pipe, drawing a slow, deep breath, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the attic.
"Why are you staring at me?" asked the one with the pipe. "Don't try to charm me with those bright green eyes. It won't work."
"Sister Vinstel, don't say that. You'll hurt Reopard's feelings," replied the girl to my right. Her voice was soft, sweet, and hearing it a second time made my heart skip a beat.
Now that I think of it, what exactly was going on?
I was sure I was awake. My eyes, now used to the darkness, and with the help of the moonlight, I could see the three women.
They are sisters, I think.
Despite the differences in their eye and hair color, all three had the same flowing waves in their hair, like long strands of moss, glimmering with the same soft shine.
On my right, the one with red hair and red eyes smiled faintly at me. She leaned in, her lips pursed…
Yes. I knew what was coming.
My cheek was sucked into a loud, forceful kiss before she pulled her face back.
"I'm Kithara. I…" she began, trying to introduce herself, but then paused for some reason.
She tilted her head, uncertain, then looked at her standing sister and asked, "Sister, who are we to Reobard?"
For some reason, silence followed.
"Really… who are we to him?" asked the woman to my left.
"Ah—tu—" I tried to ask who you are, but that's all I managed to say. That's fine—I was a baby, after all.
At the sound of my babbling, the three of them flinched, eyes widening with surprise. Moments later, their cheeks flushed pink as they exchanged awkward glances.
"He's adorable," said Kithara. "I never thought Altonpard would give life to something so… cute."
"He's as long as my forearm," said the girl on my left as she pulled back her loose sleeve, revealing her pale arm. "I think I could carry him, but I'm afraid I might hurt him."
Once again, silence settled in as they stared at me.
And I could tell, from their eyes, there was no hatred in them. No resentment. But all three held a strange sadness within. And maybe… if I had been able to speak, I would've asked them to stay. To tell me their stories. Especially now, when I was beginning to suspect the true identity of this "Altonpard."
"I suppose I represent his mother," said Vinstel, the one with the pipe. "Which means you two would be his aunts—according to both human and demon traditions."
"Aunt," repeated the two girls on either side of me, in unison.
"Yes," said Vinstel. "Kithara is his elder aunt, and Kither is the younger. And I am Vinstel…" she paused. "Someone dear to his father… perhaps."
At the end of her sentence, I noticed Vinstel's eyes tilt downward with grief. Kithara flinched, as though preparing to say something, but something stopped her, and she sat back down.
"Reopard," said Vinstel as she kneeled, "I offer you one of my girls. A virgin, just like you. Still young now, but in ten years, she'll shake the entire kingdom of the Sirens with her beauty. She won't disappoint you."
She reached toward my fur blanket, and I felt a strange warmth pulse through my chest.
"She is yours now. Her name is Berashak, the Sapphire Siren of the Emerald Line."
"He deserves her—he's the son of Altonpard," said Kithara with a faint smile.
"Well then, girls," replied Vinstel, ignoring Kithara's comment. "Let's return before the Altonpard senses something."
The two girls nodded, rising after Vinstel. They walked toward the half-open attic door, their steps silent, the smell of smoke fading behind them.
And I… left alone in that attic, stared up at the rotting ceiling. Thoughts swirled in my head—about this world.
Kias—my world—felt massive, even though I hadn't left my home yet.
The Sirens were a race I had read about in my previous life. And from Vinstel's words, I had caught mention of demons—another thing I'd once read about.
And above all, the touch of Vinstel's hand, the warmth that pierced into my chest despite the layer of furs between us—it sparked a mystery in my mind.
Kias held many secrets.
And I was ready to face them all, not as Cindy, the cowardly boy…
But as Reopard, who wouldn't let his second chance at life slip away.
I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.