Starlight

Starlight

By missdxllface

SIREN

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Noelani had been told she was special.

"Chosen" they said.

"Blessed by The Flame"

But "blessed" didn't feel like waking up on stone floors with your back aching from the cold.

Didn't feel like scrubbing feet that kicked when you weren't fast enough.

Didn't feel like hands brushing your hair too slowly. Or stares that lingered too long. Or being told you have a gift meant to be given—even if you didn't want to give it.

At fifteen, Noelani was no longer invisible.

Her robe was longer now. The fabric softer, as if that changed anything. She still scrubbed the same floors, still slept on stone. Still had to kneel when the Elders passed, eyes to the ground.

But now the elders touched her hair.

Her hands.

And sometimes they touched other places too.

And called Daughter Of The Flame, with a voice full of heat and something she didn't have a name

for—but made her skin go cold.

"Your Blooming" Sister Mareen said, brushing her cheek one night in the kitchen. "He will notice soon"

Noelani didnt know who He was.

But she didn't want to be noticed.

Not like that.

The worst was Elder Braam.

He was always smiling. Always soft spoken. Like poison in honey.

He'd come in the evenings sometimes, to "Check on Her Soul."

Sit beside her on the floor of the silence room, where no one else was allowed, and tell her stories of fire and obedience and how girls who served purely were "honored" in the eyes of the Divine Flame.

"You want to be clean don't you?" He'd whisper, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear. "You're still full of shadow, Noelani. But that's not your fault. You're young. Wild. Girls like you need to be tamed."

She never answered.

She just nodded.

Because that's what they wanted.

Because saying no would would bring punishment, and punishment meant no water for days.

They said water made her dirty.

That it weakened her, filled her with temptations.

But Noelani longed for it like a missing limb.

Sometimes, she sat by the rain basin when no one was was watching. Just staring into it, feeling her breath slow, her heartbeat soften. It was the only place she felt real.

Once, during her chores, she spilled a full bowl of it on the floor and dropped to her knees to clean it— only to freeze when her fingertips touched the puddle.

The water sang.

Not aloud, but inside her.

A vibration in get bones, a note that hummed in her chest.

Her eyes blurred. Her head tipped. And for a moment, she was somewhere else entirely—a cave under the sea, glowing with light. A voice echoing through the waves.

You are not theirs.

You were never theirs.

Then it was gone.

A slap across her face brought her back.

Sister Maren, furious.

"You look in water like it's your lover," she hissed. "Is that what you want, Noelani? To be filled with shadow? Touched by the drowning one?"

Noelani blinked, tears running hot down her cheeks. She didn't answer. Didn't know how.

Her hands ached from the blow. Her mouth tasted like salt.

Not blood.

Salt.

That night, she dreamed again.

The lake.

Endless, black as night.

She floated on her back, naked, unafraid. The stars shiver were too bright, and below her, something massive moved beneath the surface.

She wasn't alone.

He was there again.

The man in the water.

Closer this time.

She saw his shape in the deep—long limbs, Silver skin thar shimmered like moonlight on waves. His face remained hidden, but she felt his eyes like warmth across her body.

He didn't touch her.

But she wanted him too.

Not like Elder Braam.

This was different.

Safe.

He knew her in a way nobody else did.

"Come home, little siren," he whispered.

And the word echoed in her chest.

Siren.

?

She woke with her fingers tangled in her hair and her nails blue.

The floor beneath her was wet.

Soaked through.

She gasped and pulled her knees to her chest.

Her body ached in strange ways lately—throat tight, limbs heavy after dreams, her voice humming beneath her breath even when she wasn't speaking.

And always thar word:

Siren.

What did it mean?

That day, she found a dead bird in the garden.

Its wings were soaked, even though the ground was dry.

It lay beneath the rain basin.

She picked it up gently. Whispered, "I'm sorry," like she always did for broken things.

And as her fingers touched it, she felt warmth.

They the softest ripple of a sound.

It pulsed through her throat.

A single note, high and strange and full of ache.

The bird twitched.

Then flew.

Alive.

Noelani stared at her hands.

Shaking.

She didn't tell anyone.

She never would.

Because now she knew the truth.

The water wasnt hurting her.

It was changing her.

And the flame would kill her if it ever found out.

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