View source for Of Sirens and Fireflies

By: Tulliana
Posted on: September 23, 2007
<pre>The Siren mother sat in silence, absentmindedly plucking bits of fluff from the
blanket draped over the rich soil upon which she was resting. She watched her
daughter, a small girl with ringlets of honey and eyes as blue as the Western
Sea. Thoughts raced through her mind, and she almost didn't hear the tinkling
voice calling out to her. "Mother! Look and see!" Her focus was drawn from her
thoughts to the beaming face of the child, who held a jar full of fireflies
caught deep within the garden. The mother's face broke into a smile as she
clapped at the flickering lights from within the glass. With a satisfied smile,
the young girl disappeared behind a flowered hedge, in search of more fireflies.

Thoughts and worries poured back into the mother's mind. The child was getting
older. Soon she would gain the attention of the males around her, and this
frightened the woman. She knew well the forceful advances of men, and the
thoughts and beliefs they had about a woman of Sireni blood. She had passed
other's of her race, standing around crowded markets and landmarks. Their
bodies barely covered, moving seductively as they laughed in amusement towards
the men who they had caught the attention of. These woman had faces painted up
so vibrant, but eyes that were washed out... empty. They had become shells, the
dreams and beliefs of their childhood drifting a bit further away with every
night they fell asleep in someone's arms, and every morning they awoke to a
small pile of gold upon their bedstand, and the sheets beside them long grown
cold.

These women she saw, knew not what they caused. Their self-abuse not only hurt
them, but all the women of their race. The mother thought back to when she was a
bit younger, on a night where the stars seemed close enough to touch. She
thought of the crunch of her boots against the hard ground as she made her way
home for the evening. She thought of the cool breeze against her skin, and how
the nightbirds called out to each other through the silence. Her mind was drawn
to how she heard a small whimper from the bushes, and how she set her staff
aside as she made her way over to them, curious as to whether an animal was
injured, or a child lost off the open trail. She thought back to the hands that
grabbed her roughly, covering her mouth so she couldn't cry out, the sounds of
ripping fabric, and the tears dripping to the dusty ground. She thought of the
man, his crude features and degrading sneer, and how he left her there
afterwards, hot tears blurring the clear night sky.

It was soon after that when her skirts and blouses grew taut around her
abdomen, her stomach slowly swelling with life. Villagers whispered throughout
town, their eyes burning into her back as she heard bits and pieces of them
comparing her to those washed out women, with their blank eyes and fake
laughter. She knew to defend herself would only make the rumours grow more, so
she let them think as they pleased. From the time her newborn daughter's cry
pierced the night, she promised the babe that she wouldn't let her be a victim
of the lust of those men.... the ones who saw a Siren and thought of them as
entertainment, and not souls.

"Mother, can they stay beside my bed tonight, instead of a candle?" The mother
was brought back to the present by her daughter's voice. She smiled softly and
nodded, and the young girl's face lit up with delight. Dusk had faded to dark,
and the mother stood up, brushing off her skirts and gathering the blanket into
her pouch. She walked beside her daughter, their hands entwined as they made
their way back to the small cottage they called home. The mother smiled as her
daughter walked by each plant, naming it quickly, and rattling off random cures
and uses, her eyes wide as she talked of how she was going to be a great
healer... or maybe own her own shop, like the ones she had seen in cities as
they shopped, bins overflowing with herbs wrapped in parchment and twine. For a
moment, the mother's worries faded. She looked down at her daughter, and thought
of how her dreams were deep-seeded and raw. She silently vowed to be behind the
girl every step of the way, helping her to change the idea of what a Siren is
and should be. As she tucked her daughter into bed, the child looked over to
the jar of fireflies, tucked neatly between a vase of tulips and a storybook
and said softly, "Mother, do you see how, even if a few fireflies go dark,
there's still that one that shines bright?"</pre>

[[Category:Bardic Runners Up]][[Category:2007 Bardics]]