The White Siren

The White Siren

I

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. The fiery light of the setting sun set the snowflakes ablaze in a swirling storm of rose colored ice. There was something so dangerously beautiful about that perilous storm; my fingers went numb, my head throbbed from the howling winds, my face bruised by the endless torrent of falling ice. How could something as elegant as snow turn into a raging beast, ready to devour me. I trudged forward, my legs aching, lungs screaming for air. When the sun finally vanished beneath the horizon, the cold became unbearable. It crawled up my limbs like rot, slowly eroding my vulnerable skin. This is the end, I thought. I was ready to die, to set my soul free from this frozen carcass it inhabited. Then I fell. I barely managed to pull myself up to my knees, and called one last time for help.

“Anyone? Please! Protect me Father! Save me!” I begged, grasping the battered necklace my wife had given me long ago, an old chain on which was attached a dented silver cross. I would have cried then as I looked to Heaven, but the wind had stolen my tears. If only it could also take away my misery. “Why, Father?” I pleaded. “Why me?”

That’s when I heard it. As beautiful as birdsong, irresistible as a siren’s. Something inside me grew hungry, hungry for whatever the origin of that golden tone happened to be. I strained my eyes to see the pale, luminescent figure dancing among the frozen drafts, like an ivory tree stirred by the wind. Then it was gone. Darkness began to creep through the edges of my vision, until everything went black. 

I felt something warm and slightly damp on my forehead. It comforted me and slowed my thoughts to a manageable pace. When I opened my eyes all I saw were dim shapes of light. When they finally focused, I saw a large, firelit hall. Furs were spread out along the floor, surrounding lengthy, oaken tables. Shadows danced along the wooden walls, but they were held back by the roaring fire that lay at the center of the massive room. I was reclining on the floor near the hearth, body piled with warm skins. The blissful comfort the hall emanated was a blessing after the curse of the storm. 

Then I heard a yawn. Startled, I whipped my head to the side and saw a pair of amber eyes, belonging to a strange woman. Her cheeks were red with youth, but the crows feet surrounding her eyes betrayed old age. She seemed to lie between the extremes of young and old, foolish and wise, innocent and ashamed. She smiled with amity, and gazed upon my weathered form like a mother would her child. I immediately found comfort in those eyes, along with the assurance that she wanted only to care for me. 

“What is your name?” I asked.

“I am Idunna, keeper of this hall,” she answered sweetly. “If I may ask, what dire purpose caused you to stray so far to the north? Especially during winter?”

I sighed, attempting to recall the distant past that led me here.

“I was attacked by bandits on the road to Trondheim, where I intended to find work. They stole my horse, the meager amount of food in my possession, and my furs. I woke up in the midst of a blizzard, lost, and hungry. The road was nowhere in sight, and all I could do was run toward the west, where I could follow the coast. Then it grew dark and I lost the little hope I had of finding sanctuary. But then–” I paused debating on whether I should inform Idunna about the creature that danced through the snow. That was the only thing I remembered with perfect clarity, but I concluded she would find me a fool. 

“Well then,” Idunna declared. “You have been through a trying storm. My hall is your home for as long as you deem fit. Please, let me provide some food for my starving guest!”

Over the next few minutes, Idunna placed a large, steaming boar on the table, accompanied by lingonberries, cider, and fresh loaves of bread. The meat was deliciously succulent, the bread fulfilling, and the lingonberries at their peak. But the golden cider tasted sweeter than honey, and more refreshing than water after a day of labor. 

“This cider of yours is superior to every other drink that has graced my lips,” I remarked. “I can’t tell if it is a great thirst or your skill that enhances your cider, but please, tell me how you brew it?”

Idunna was flattered; her smile was as bright as her fire.

“My cider is brewed in a simple manner, yet it is not the method that infuses quality, but the contents of the cider itself. I use the finest of my golden apples, my pride and joy. I grow them in a secret orchard far from this hall, in the finest grove in Scandinavia. They have many… intriguing properties to say the least,” she answered.

After I had eaten my fill, Idunna set out a fresh pile of furs on the floor and wished me good night, leaving a new pair of night clothes for me to change into. After I had removed my threadbare travel clothing, I donned the soft, linen garments and instantly grew tired. When I had finally laid down on the furs, the last thing that went through my mind were Idunna’s amber eyes.

I awoke, blood racing, sweat coating my rigid body. I heard it again. That beautiful, yet maddening song. I pulled the furs off my legs and used the wall to raise myself off the floor. Then I noticed the open door. Frozen in my tracks, a million thoughts rushing through my head, I peered around the hall, still illuminated by the faithful fire. I found Idunna sleeping peacefully by the hearth. She’s ok, I reassured myself. Taking one more glance around the room, I tip-toed to my boots, and walked towards the door, intending to close it once more. But as I touched the wooden frame, a strange feeling arose in my heart. I had a sudden, strong desire to look outside. It can’t hurt to have a short look, I thought. After a deep breath, I slid through the small opening, and was instantly assaulted with cold air. The winds were howling, but there were no snowflakes falling from the sky, no clouds to cover up the soft glow of the moon and her stars. I started to go back inside, but just before reaching the door, it sang again. I whipped around and saw something where a moment ago, there had been nothing. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Her hair and skin alike were as white as the snow beneath her, her loose garments an icy blue, moving around her body like the wind itself. Her eyes were crimson, but not like the fire in Idunna’s hall. They were flickering torches in a dark cavern, magnetic, appealing to every part of my hungry soul. I had to follow. 

She sprinted like the most elegant doe, singing a haunting melody as she made her way across the dunes of ice. I trudged through the thick snow, slowly making my way towards her. I felt more alive than ever, and it wasn’t just idunna’s cider; something deep within me yearned, needed the siren that had called me. She beckoned me towards a small cave with delicate fingers, smiling at me the way a lover would. She needed me too. I followed her into the cavern and saw her reclining against the finest furs. She beckoned me next to her, softly grasping my arm with her fluid hands. She was even more gorgeous up close, a glory to behold. Her long hair was white as her skin, her features sharp yet soft, the essence of youth itself. She smiled seductively and took my hands in hers. Leaning in for a kiss, I placed my calloused hands on her smooth cheeks as she did the same. But the moment I met her lips with mine, that moment of pure bliss, I felt something swift and sharp saw against my throat. I pulled back and touched my hand to the site of that sudden pain, and turned white as the siren as I saw my own, thick blood dripping down my palms…

II

Idunna began to trek back to the cabin after she heard bone-chilling screams echo from the cave. She hung her head in pity, considering what his life could have been if he had only ignored the siren’s call, and had just enjoyed her abode a little longer. The man was just like every one of his kind; he couldn’t distinguish a goddess from a demon, and it had cost him every bit of his filthy, gluttonous life.