Elisha languished in self-imposed exile. Once a vision of oceanic fury with flowing pink hair that shimmered like dawn-kissed coral and piercing blue eyes that could command tides or shatter wills, she now floated listlessly above her opulent bed of black pearls and drowned roses. Her silver tail, once powerful and iridescent, hung dull and frayed, its scales chipped from neglect. Empty wine goblets—pilfered from surface merchant vessels during better days—drifted lazily around her, remnants of feasts she no longer savored. The water tasted of salt and regret.
Tomorrow, under a blood-red wedding moon of the Demon Realm, Sheba would bind herself to Lucifer, the Demon Lord whose hellfire had scorched the very foundations of the Siren Shoal in their last confrontation. Elisha's fingers traced the faint lines along her throat and left shoulder, where sacred regeneration rituals had restored what was lost. The Siren race's most guarded rite, performed in the Crimson Abyss under the light of a dying star, had regrown her tongue and arm after Lucifer and Sheba's brutal assault. But the ritual could not mend the deeper fractures—the betrayal that festered like an infected wound.
A sudden ripple disturbed the sacred currents, stronger than the natural flow of the shoal's protective wards. A figure cloaked in shifting shadows, woven from illusion spells borrowed from forbidden human arcane texts, slipped through the hidden kelp curtain that guarded the royal chamber. The intruder moved with predatory grace, her white hair spilling like fresh snow over her shoulders as she lowered her hood. Moist's grey eyes gleamed with cold calculation, sharp as storm clouds over a turbulent sea. Her deep umber skin bore the fresh, glowing runes of concealment magic, pulsing faintly against the blue light.
Elisha's head snapped up, her blue eyes narrowing into slits of blue fire. "Come to gloat in my Shoal's ruins, Moist? The great rival herself, slithering through my sacred waters like a parasite before the final curtain falls on my shame."
Moist's lips curved into a mocking smile, her white hair drifting ethereally in the current. She circled Elisha slowly, her grey eyes drinking in the Siren queen's deteriorated state with undisguised satisfaction. "Gloat? Oh, my fallen siren sovereign, I merely came to witness the legendary depths of your pathetic wallowing. Look at you—Queen Elisha of the Eternal Shoal, descendant of the First Song that birthed the oceans' fury. Reduced to this rotting bloom amid your pearls and bones. You lost an arm in that cataclysmic clash for Sheba's heart, fighting tooth and scale against the Demon Lord himself. And yet, after the sacred regeneration rites in the Crimson Abyss, here you are… still broken. She chose him. The very one who dismembered you. How does it taste, knowing Sheba now warms his bed?"
"Your feign of sympathy is useless to me Moist, leave now." Elisha squeezed her brows in a hard glare.
"Of course it is not." Moist kept circling her. "I am only but the most hated Human Goddess, of what use could my words be to the high lofty Elisha?"
Elisha's tail lashed violently, unleashing a shockwave that shattered a nearby crystal goblet into a cloud of glittering shards. The force stirred up sediment from the grotto floor, revealing faint runes of ancient protective spells etched into the stone. "Get out before I summon the depths to drag you under."
"I am not leaving till you hear what I have come to say." Moist rather made herself comfortable on the carved glass seat nearby.
"Leave my sight now Moist! Or..."
"Or what?" Moist laughed, a low, crystalline sound that vibrated through the water like a lesser siren's call. "You'll sing me into oblivion? If Sheba could break your song, I believe it will be very unwise for you to underestimate me."
"H... How..." Elisha stuttered, eyes swirling in disbelieve. "How did you know she broke my song?"
Moist laughed. The subtle thunder in her voice piercing down on Elisha's glazed shamelessness.
"Not only do I know she broke your song, I am also aware she ripped your tongue with her bare hands."
Elisha's breath hitched.
"My sister's power grows by the day and it will grow more after tomorrow. This is no time for us to be hostile against one another. Besides, we both know your voice has carried cracks since that day—echoes of pain the regeneration could never fully erase. And tomorrow… tomorrow seals your doom." She stood from the seat and walked to where Elisha sat. getting close enough, she lifted her chin slowly and stared intently into her pink orbs.
"I am sure you got an invitation too," she began, her hot breath creasing Elisha's lips lightly. "The Demon Realm echoes in festivity. Sheba weds Lucifer in the Grand Pavilion of the Hollow Eden. He plans to crown her ultimate ruler of the Demon Realm during the binding vows, granting her dominion over infernal legions and abyssal wrath. Once that union is sealed and the power transfers, she becomes untouchable. A divine human, who became the Enchantress Supreme and now will be draped in abyssal darkness. She will be invincible and under her elevated might, we will be trampled upon without mercy."
The words struck Elisha like harpoons. She turned away, pink hair veiling her face as memories flooded her: Sheba's laughter once echoing through these very chambers, her warm hands tracing scales under moonlight, whispered promises of an eternity shared between siren depths and forbidden passions. Now poisoned by visions of Lucifer's possessive grip, his big arms enfolding what was once hers. The Siren Shoal's bioluminescent lights dimmed in response to her anguish, as if the waters itself mourned with its queen. If the wedding succeeded, Sheba would rule above the Demon Lord, her power amplified by the ancient pacts of the Infernal Throne. Elisha would lose her forever—reduced to a footnote in oceanic legends, a scorned rival swallowed by history.
Moist drifted closer, her grey eyes softening from mockery to something sharper, more opportunistic. The white strands of her hair caught the glow, making her appear almost spectral against the dark waters. "But it doesn't have to end in your eternal lament, Elisha. I fight to shield the human nation from sorcery encroachment and the witches control. To preserve the fragile balance you once helped maintain before the Rift. And you… you fight for the ghost of a love that slips further away with every tide."
Elisha's blue eyes flickered with desperate hunger, her regenerated arm clenching at her side. "Then speak plainly, before I decide your bones deserve a place on these walls."