Cursed Song
Page 1
Cursed Song
Samantha Kroese
Contents
Other Independently Published Works by Samantha Kroese
Part I
Travain
1. Ruyne
2. Silver
3. Shadow
4. Derry
5. Ruyne
6. Silver
7. Shadow
8. Derry
9. Ruyne
10. Silver
11. Shadow
12. Derry
13. Ruyne
14. Silver
15. Shadow
16. Ruyne
II. Five Years Later…
17. Shadow
18. Silver
19. Ruyne
20. Shadow
21. Silver
22. Ruyne
23. Shadow
24. Silver
25. Ruyne
26. Shadow
27. Derry
28. Silver
29. Ruyne
30. Shadow
31. Derry
32. Silver
33. Ruyne
About the Author
Coming Soon
Other Independently Published Works by Samantha Kroese
* * *
FADING LIGHTS TRILOGY
Forbidden
Unspoken
Taboo
* * *
ASSASSINS OF DAKAAL
Regret
Ladykiller
Niyx
Sephyrn
* * *
VILLAIN POINT OF VIEW STAND ALONE NOVELS
Restless Dreams of Darkness
The Darkest Sword
* * *
STAND ALONE NOVELS
Cursed Song
Copyright © 2021 Samantha Kroese
* * *
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
* * *
ISBN: (Paperback) 9798528998640
Imprint: Independently published
* * *
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.
* * *
Cover created by Eerily Fair Design
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First printed edition 2021.
Part I
Travain
Travain paced back and forth in front of the rundown shed. He wrung his near-skeletal hands. He could hear her slithering about inside. He put his eye to the crack between the rotting boards as the heavy breeze made them creak.
Moonlight bled through the cracks in the boards and made her iridescent scales shimmer. She moved around, crawling, trying to find a way out of the tiny shed and back to the water. Without her voice she was powerless.
Travain didn't regret for a moment that he had stolen her magic from her. Now he had a beautiful entrancing voice and the magic to use it for any purpose he desired. He would no longer be the laughingstock of his town. No one wanted someone who was mage-born with very little magic. A freak of nature they thought.
He did find it a little odd, though. She had not seemed the terrible monster her kind had the reputation of being. She had seemed innocent and sweet. It had to be a trick. That was how they lured people, right? Would she die out of the water? Like a beached fish?
Her face appeared on the other side of the crack, and he jumped back, startled. Her beautiful eyes pleaded with him. She looked so very sad. Pink tears bled down her cheeks, staining her beautiful face. Then her fingers slid down the crack as she slumped to the floor.
Travain stared at her. She didn't move. He couldn't see her breathing. Hesitantly, he moved to open the door of the shed. He grabbed a fallen tree branch and moved inside, always keeping an eye to the door for his escape.
She lay still. Her beautiful skin white as alabaster. Her previously brilliant scales of pinks and blues seemed dulled down. He could sense no magic within her now. No spark of life.
Travain poked her with the branch, expecting an attack. They were said to be vicious, seductive creatures. One couldn't trust them. Perhaps it was a trick?
She didn't move. Even when he went closer. Even when he touched her with his hand. She was cold to the touch. Dead.
He scowled and picked her carcass up. It was only a short walk to the sea. He threw her in. After all, he had what he wanted from her.
As weeks passed, Travain began in earnest to learn how to use his stolen magic. Finally, after a lifetime of ridicule in the tiny mage community, he was gaining popularity. The bullying and teasing had stopped once people realized the powerful magic he had grown into. At least that's what he had told them.
A chill wind rustled the dark leaves of the trees above him as he stumbled down the rough path to his home in the woods. He had a little bit too much to drink, but he knew the way, so he was unconcerned. He had walked that path every day for his entire thirty years on this miserable world. And since he had inherited the place from his mother, he would probably walk it the rest of his life.
Although some had said his new voice was good enough to get him places, that he should travel as a bard, he discovered he could manipulate people's emotions with it. He could talk his way out of trouble. He could serenade beautiful women into his bed.
Travain stumbled again at the sudden sound of female voices giggling. He squinted, peering through the dark trees toward the beach. Moonlight lit the white sand below, and he could see several beautiful women down there. Dancing. Quite lovely and naked.
He wandered closer, stumbling down the path. Siren's beach. The very beach from which he had stolen his siren. His mother warned him his entire life to stay away. These sirens weren't happy with luring random sailors. They took both men and women from this small coastal town when they wandered too close to the sea, and they were never seen again.
Travain puffed his chest out a bit. Hadn't he already caught one and stolen her magic? Killed her even. What did he have to fear? Besides, the women below had legs, not the scaled tails of the fish-women. How could they dance if they were sirens? Sirens didn't have legs, his muddled mind reasoned. Ridiculous.
"Travain! We see you! Come dance with us!" They called to him, blowing kisses and beckoning. Their voices were sweet, and he was just drunk enough to throw caution to the wind. He scrambled down to the beach, grinning like a fool.
They surrounded him, dancing to and fro, always out of reach as they giggled and dodged his clumsy grabs.
"Come! Come play in the waves with us. The water feels so nice." The women grabbed his arms and pulled him toward the water.
He allowed it and stumbled along with them. Laughing. Grabbing them here and there. Enjoying their touch, as they tugged at his clothes and laid kisses on his lips. Yes, his magic was indeed giving him a very good reputation in this town!
Then he tumbled face-first into the water. The sea roiled around him and he was being dragged down, down into its depths. The dancing beauties surrounded him, still laughing, as their legs turned to tails. He tried to struggle, but he found a problem with his newfound magic. Voice related magic didn't do you much good when water gushed into your throat any time you opened your mouth.
Then all went black.
Travain woke up coughing water out of his lungs. Sand stuck to him. It stuck even to his eyelashes and disrupted his vision when he opened his eyes. He rubbed at them until they were clear, then looked up.
The cavern was encased
in crystal. He could see the waves dancing outside it, and the sun far above reflected through water and gemstone to create dancing rainbows on the white sand before him. Shells and beautiful undersea plants surrounded him. Arranged. Their patterns were not natural.
Still coughing, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. His gaze trailed along with the decorations, following them to the middle of the room. There, amid flowers, beautiful shells, gems, and other natural offerings, lay the siren whose magic he had stolen. His heart began to pound.
The soft sound of scales against sand made him turn but not fast enough. The massive siren's webbed fingers grabbed him around the neck and lifted him off the ground with ease. Her rainbow-colored eyes spun like prisms, but the cold rage in their depths made him freeze. He did not doubt that he now faced the Queen of all Sirens. Most were man-sized. Now he realized perhaps those were young ones. This one was easily the size of a large whale, and he felt like an insignificant insect in her grasp.
She hissed and slithered closer to the dead siren's resting place and held him dangling above her. "You! Foolish mortal. Explain! Why have you done this to Coralia? Why does my beloved daughter lie dead before me? Why does her beautiful magic flow through your pitiful mortal frame?"
Travain trembled in the powerful siren's grasp. Words failed him. What could he say? "I needed it to save me!"
"Selfish little creature. You would take another's life to save your own? Miserable little flesh bag. I should rend you to pieces and feed you to my sharks!" The Queen roared, shaking with her anger, as she lifted him toward the crystal where large sharks swam lazily back and forth, watching.
Travain struggled, putting his hands around her wrist to try to pry himself free. She was too big, too strong.
The Queen dropped him to the sand in disgust, slithering around him in great circles. "No. That will not bring back my daughter. That will not teach you the meaning of suffering. Instead, you will live, mortal."
Travain scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off. "I will?"
"You will live. You will thrive. You will be the father of many," the Queen hissed, her prismatic eyes narrowed and her voice harsh. "My daughter will never have children. She will never pass her beauty and magic to others. I will not let her legacy go to waste. You will be my mortal emissary."
"What does that mean?" Travain asked, tilting his head. He felt a little bolder having survived the last few moments. Magic sang in his veins even more powerful down here beneath the waves. The Queen's magic was beyond comprehension. He could see it within her, pulsing to the beat of her heart. He craved it. He wanted that power for his own. His hands twitched. Could he steal it from her? But this siren was no sweet, young innocent. This being was ancient.
"FOOL! You would dare stand there and think of stealing my power as well?" Her tail lashed out and knocked him off his feet.
Travain hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from him. He saw stars and the room spun. He could hear her quickly moving around him.
"You will never know rest, mortal! You will never again know a home! Your feet will grow restless, your mind will go wild with madness if you do not continue to travel," the Queen shouted, her voice beautiful and terrifying. As she spoke chains of magic shot from the ground beneath Travain and over his body, lashing him tightly to the sand.
"You will seduce many with your looks and my daughter's magic. It will make you as beautiful and irresistible as a siren. Many will love you. Whomever you love will be granted your curse. They will be bound to you, heart, and soul. Your offspring will inherit the magic of my people. They will all be blessed with a beautiful song and beautiful looks. Everyone they love will fall victim to the same curse and be bound to them until death."
Travain stared, as the sea around the crystal started to turn black and crashed hard against the protective dome.
"Your people will be known as Dusksingers. You will live in colorful wagons that you will build with your own hands. You will travel from city to city and perform beautiful songs and dance for the mortals. From the mortals you leave behind in each town, a number will disappear and walk into the sea to join my people. You must never let anyone know that you are the source of this phenomenon, or they will kill you."
The Queen rose before him, weaving back and forth. "You will live as people who are kind and serve others. The moment any of your descendants craves power as you have, the curse will drive them mad, and they will bring about the death of all mortal life on this planet. You will not tell your people of the bargain you made with me through the death of my daughter. You will make rules for them, but you will not poison them. Any time you try to speak of me or my people, your voice will be lost to you."
Travain screamed as the magical chains surrounded him, lifting him, crushing him. The chains burrowed into Travain's flesh and wound their way through his entire body, the curse taking hold of every fiber of his being.
"Begone from me! Fail me not, mortal! For in your death, you will find no rest, only torment. Fail your people, and the blood of every mortal on this planet will be upon your hands," the Queen shrieked.
Travain flew through the air, the crystal bubble opening just enough for him to fly through it, then he landed hard, back on the very beach where his nightmare had begun.
He lay there in agony, gasping for breath, curled up as the curse buried its way into him. As the pain passed, he glared at the waves and struggled to get up. Once on his feet, the curse drove him to his home and he found an ax. He began to cut down the trees around his home and fashioned them into a wagon. He worked in a fevered frenzy until it was finished. He painted the wagon in brilliant blues, reds, and yellows. Within two days he purchased a horse to pull it and started from his home.
So, he was cursed. But was he? He had everything he had ever wanted. Power, beauty, and soon he would be famous. He would father a new breed of mortals, the likes of which the world had never seen. As his horse faithfully plodded toward the next town, he already began to form the rules for his new society. After all, he couldn't let anyone find out about any of this. They would want to take it from him. They would kill him. No one would ever know of the siren's curse.
Chapter 1
Ruyne
Ruyne could not shake the heavy feeling of dread. He walked around the perimeter of the camp for the fourth time. His gaze scanned the wagons and his people, looking for anything out of place. The magical Song thrumming through his entire being felt off, like someone plucking the string of a lute out of tune. The sacred Song magic bound them all together and kept them in harmony. It protected them from outsiders. From danger.
Nothing out of place though. As the night bled into the early hours of the morning the people of his camp were finishing their evening meal, cleaning up the camp, changing out of their costumes from the night's show. The camp was bustling as usual at this time of night, everything normal.
He couldn't help the grin that crossed his lips as two of the younger women sashayed past him, swirling their colorful skirts to get his attention. All the young women in the camp flirted with him. He was the Leader's son and next in line to be Leader. It would probably be a while before that happened, as this was only his eighteenth year. He already knew a lot of what he had to know to be Leader though. His mother had made certain of that.
Ruyne turned the corner around his wagon, running his fingers along with the blue trim. He'd built it completely from scratch with his own hands, as all the men in his camp did when they turned eighteen. Ruckus, his horse, snorted a greeting. Ruyne walked over to give the azure steed a reassuring pat. The Song magic changed the horses’s hair color to match their chosen owner, and Dusksingers were born myriad shades of hair. His mother told him the Song chose their favorite color to mark them with and Ruyne thought she was right. His favorite color was deep azure, though blue was unusual in the Dusksinger camps.
Ruyne paused, a hand on his horse's thick withers, fingers pulling tangles out of the mane absently. A thick coasta
l fog was rolling in through the darkened trees, but a familiar figure stood at the edge of the camp, staring through the forest. The Dusksingers were forbidden to camp near the sea, but he had not dared question his mother, Raelle, when she had told them to camp here. Now he could see her standing there alone facing the sea.
He took a slow, deep breath. Legend said that, when one of the Dusksingers stared longingly out to sea, that person felt death approaching. It had been two years since his father had died in an accident, and his mother had not recovered. When two were Songbound by the marriage ceremony, as his parents had been, it almost always killed one if the other died. His mother had survived but she had never been the same. He knew some in the camp whispered about her Leadership but he trusted her judgment. His mother had always been a practical woman. She did what she had to get done and shoved her emotions away until such time later when they could be dealt with.
Ruyne gave Ruckus one more pat before he slowly walked out to join his mother. "Mother?" he called to her as he came up behind her, not wanting to startle her. She was Leader though; the Song told her he was there long before his voice did.