Chapter 3 — Moaning Caverns
Moaning Caverns was not a place you wandered into by accident.
The air inside was cold and damp. Drops of water fell like slow clock ticks. The walls were carved with ancient patience, and every sound echoed as if the earth itself was listening.
Far below the tourist paths, past the places humans had mapped and named, there was a pool as dark as midnight.
Lady Eidothea rose from it silently.
Her tail shimmered silver and deep ocean blue. Her hair floated around her shoulders like ink in water. Her eyes were not cruel—they were tired.
She had lived too long as a warning story.
Don’t go near the water.
Don’t listen to her voice.
She’ll ruin you.
The truth was, Eidothea had been ruined first.
She stared at her reflection. The face above the water was beautiful, yes—but beauty could be a cage.
“Was I ever human?” she whispered.
The water answered with a soft, haunting hum. Not a voice. Not words. A memory of song.
Then light moved across the cavern—warm gold like candle flame.
Queen Calafia appeared on the stone, regal as sunrise, her gown flowing like liquid gold. Behind her stood two fierce women in armor—Siachen and Cree—silent as guardians.
Eidothea bowed her head, not from worship, but from respect. Calafia was power and protection, but she was also justice.
“You asked for a miracle,” Queen Calafia said.
Eidothea swallowed. “I asked for a chance.”
Calafia nodded. “Christmas Eve. Dusk until dawn.”
Eidothea’s breath trembled. “One night.”
“One night,” Calafia agreed. “But understand this: the old curse will test you. It wants you to believe you are only what they called you.”
Sirens.
Demons.
Temptation.
Eidothea’s voice cracked. “They said we became monsters because we loved angels who fell.”
Calafia’s eyes softened, but her voice remained firm. “You were punished for a story you did not write alone.”
Eidothea lifted her head. “How do I break it?”
“You cannot break a curse with rage,” Calafia said. “Not this one. You break it with the one thing curses cannot survive.”
Eidothea whispered, “Love?”
Calafia smiled. “Giving. Selflessness. The choice to protect rather than destroy.”
The cavern trembled faintly—like something deeper didn’t like the sound of that.
Eidothea flinched. “It’s listening.”
Calafia’s crown caught the light. “Let it listen.”
Then Calafia raised her hand. Gold light poured through her fingers and wrapped around Eidothea like a warm cloak.
“For one night,” Calafia declared, “you will walk the land as human. But your magic must be freely given—and your heart must choose its true name.”
Eidothea closed her eyes as the light sank into her skin.
And for the first time in centuries, she felt warmth that wasn’t water.
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