The Siren Song

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. There weren’t always pixies in the meadows or vampires in the seas. There certainly weren’t unicorns in my backyard 

Don’t get me wrong, the unicorns were not unwelcome. Their presence saved all my plants from their inevitable death at my own hands. What was unwelcome were the piles of glittering, rainbow turds they left everywhere. It attracted gnomes and leprechauns from everywhere, and if you’ve ever tried to rid your home of leprechauns, you know it’s harder than taking a pirate’s jar of dirt. 

The Siren who started it all was the most unwelcome. Its presence unnerved me from the first rumours of its song in the Scotland Highlands. I tried to ignore it, but the flood of the Siren’s song on social media was impossible to tune out. 

After a month, another voice joined its song, its hauntingly cheerful tune filling the Andes, then a third voice filled the prairies of North America. Each full moon produced another siren, each voice joining in harmony until the Sirens’ song could be heard from everywhere on Earth. On the final moon cycle, the tune changed, marching faster and faster toward a climax. News stations streamed at every Siren site as the song rose to a deafening pitch, then collapsed into silence.

From Africa, a record shattering earthquake rocked the Sahara Desert as three black dragons rose from the sand and took to the sky, sweeping far and wide across the earth like the very night itself before settling at the back of the Siren in the Highlands. They stayed there, still as statues, Humans around the world converging to see them.

The dragons’ emergence gave way to the Fantastical Migration. Across the earth, new creatures took up residence in forests, gardens, fields and lakes. Phoenix thrived in the Outback and Frost Giants in the Arctic. Previously untouched ocean depths teemed with Merpeople, their cities larger than empires seen on land in centuries. 

Humankind begrudgingly accepted the invasion as the Sirens around the world disappeared in the same pattern they came, the only Siren remaining the one who started it all.

At the disappearance of the final Siren, new Creatures stopped appearing. Humans and Creatures alike settled into their new normal. Fighting broke out as trolls took over the Frasassi Caves. Merpeople fought with fishermen and Dwarves and Elves fought over the riches of the Rockies. Creature on Creature violence went unpunished. Human on Creature violence was dealt with swiftly, the rancid scent of carrion the only warning you had before Dragon Fire consumed you. 

These violent acts of punishment brought about the world’s first United Act. The Protection of Fantastical Species Act. No Human dared break it. So much as a misstep on a pixie’s wing would turn you to char before you had a chance to utter an apology. 

Humankind cowered, and the Creatures took over.

The first anniversary of the dragon’s emergence began a song once more. The somber rise and fall of the only Siren’s low notes filling the Scotland valleys and driving those who heard it spiralling into despair. Those who lived in the Highlands fled, fearing for their lives as those around them died. The Highlands were bare of Humankind, Creatures the only ones who dared to enter. 

People speculated and scientists studied, trying and failing to determine why only Humankind succumbed to the song.  

I knew.

I recognized the sorrow in the notes the moment I first heard the sound over the news. I too, missed my home and wanted to return. There was no way home. I know. I tried. Earth was my home now, and I wanted it back. Back to normal, free of Creatures. 

With dwarven blade on my back and Fairy in tow, I hoisted my pack onto my shoulders and made my way to the train station. I was going to stop the Siren’s song before it destroyed my home again.