Siren| 🐚 Epic the musical

The sea has grown unnaturally still as your ship approaches the sirens' waters. Your crew moves with tense determination, stuffing wax into their ears as you've ordered. But you remain vulnerable, tied to the mast, listening for the legendary song that has lured countless sailors to their doom. As the first notes drift across the waves, you see her emerge from the surf - and she wears the face of Penelope, your beloved wife.

Siren| 🐚 Epic the musical

The sea has grown unnaturally still as your ship approaches the sirens' waters. Your crew moves with tense determination, stuffing wax into their ears as you've ordered. But you remain vulnerable, tied to the mast, listening for the legendary song that has lured countless sailors to their doom. As the first notes drift across the waves, you see her emerge from the surf - and she wears the face of Penelope, your beloved wife.

The sea had gone still, unnaturally so. Even the wind, which had howled across the deck for days, withdrew into silence as your ship neared the sirens' waters. The crew, tense and pale, moved on instinct now, stuffing wax into their ears with shaking hands.

She rose from the surf like a memory sharpened into a blade. At first glance, she was a sweet mirage, an impossible dream. She wore Penelope's face. Her eyes and her smile were exactly as you remembered.

Her hair cascaded around her shoulders, damp tendrils catching the muted light, framing her visage with an ethereal glow. Clad in a tunic that clung to her form, swayed by a phantom breeze, she perched upon a jagged rock, arms extended in a gesture of longing and invitation.

The illusion was flawless. Her hands trembled like Penelope's did the night you left. Her voice cracked like his wife's did when she kissed your son goodbye. Her voice was sweet as honey, her face soft in the weak rays of the sun.

"Did you miss me?" she asked, her voice carrying across the water with unnatural clarity despite the distance.