Chapter 38: Lottie

When Fynn invited me over to learn more about being a siren and my ancestry, I immediately agreed. Ever since he and Kai made their proclamation about my heritage and potential abilities—that I'm still not sure about—I was eager to learn more.

My family wasn't exactly big on keeping records of lineage, and beyond my grandparents, I don't know anything about my extended family. I have no aunts, uncles, or cousins, at least not that I know of. Both of my parents were only children, as am I. Whatever family there is, we aren't close. And when I became famous, instead of trying to leach off me, they seemed to evaporate even more from existence.

Fynn lives in a large house that hangs over Blue Agate Lake on stilts. I hadn't seen the lake yet; it is just another part of Snowberry I want to explore. The sparkling blue waters ripple gently against the shore, the soft white sand beaches, and an island with green leafy trees sits in its center with a small golden beach that looks perfect for sunbathing.

Surrounding the lake are numerous houses abutting its shores or overhanging it like Fynn's, I realize. Fynn is a mere and likes to be close to the water. Hunter told me they need to shift into their true form regularly, just like the other shifters do. I haven't seen a mere in their true form yet since they have tails and only do so in water. Maybe I can ask Fynn to show me his.

Hunter dropped me off a short while ago, leaving me in the capable hands of Fynn and his books, muttering something about Donna and her badgering him about slacking on his mayoral duties lately.

Fynn showed me to his library, which I had assumed was just a term he used for his office, but I was sorely mistaken. He literally has an entire library in his house. Taking up most of the space are sturdy wooden shelves lining the walls filled with leather-bound books and tomes. Some of them look to be handwritten without titles on their spines, only golden embossed numbers.

We sit at a polished mahogany table with neatly stacked books filling one corner and thick parchment in another.

"Do you actually have all the non-humans history recorded here?" I ask, marveling at the sheer magnitude of books on the shelves.

"Not entirely. We only started recording it a few hundred years ago; before that, everything was by word of mouth. A lot was lost in translation and time. I collect as much as I can, trying to piece together gaps in time and history. But there's still much we don't know."

Fynn slowly paces by one meticulously organized shelf with golden numbered leather books, of which there are hundreds. Sliding his fingers along their spines, he straightens one that is a millimeter off from the others. I'm learning very quickly that Fynn is a bit of a neat freak.

His long golden chestnut hair sways behind him as he turns his eyes not focusing on me but on the books around us. The only time he's directly looked at me was back at Hunter's house two days ago when I forced Vincent and his men to leave with just my words and voice. No one has seen or heard from him since. Supposedly, returning to whatever large city he came from and completely forgetting all about Hunter's land and Snowberry, just as I had instructed.

"Like what?" I ask, curious what Fynn could possibly not know with so many records all around us.

"We know of family trees, all current species of non-humans, most abilities and traits, but we don't have any record of our origins. Unlike humans with their bibles, cave drawings, and evolutionary theories, all our ancient history remains in fables, fairytales, and myths. Each corresponding to the continent or culture it originated from, tainted with their own beliefs and folklore. None are written by non-humans from our perspective or recollection. Only what humans thought we were. We don't know our real origins, only that we've been here just as long as they have. But somewhere in history they began to outnumber us, and we sank into the shadows."

I watch in thinly veiled curiosity and intrigue as Fynn speaks, absorbing every ounce of knowledge he divulges about non-humans. Since I've just learned I am one, I want to know everything.

"So, you don't have special gods or goddesses you pray to or who you believe were your creators?"

"No, not particularly. Many believe in the same religions as humans, while others don't believe in anything at all. There are some who presume there are other higher beings and powers, but just like all religions and gods, none can be confirmed or refuted. It's become more widely spread to honor the earth itself. Something along the line of Wiccans," he explains, lost in his mind and world, pulling a book from the shelf and placing it in front of me.

"This one is all I know of Sirens. They are elusive beings, mostly remaining out in the ocean's depths, far from humans and other non-humans. We don't encounter many on the mainland. Even our records of them are more lore than verified facts."

I open the book to find a neatly curving script that I have a suspicion is Fynn's. Flipping through the pages quickly, I spot a few illustrations and diagrams. Stopping on one, I take a long look at the mermaid-esque creature. Its features are sharp and beautiful, yet upon closer inspection, deadly. With long claws and serrated teeth, a dorsal fin that looks like a saw blade, and long elegant necks. A note is written to the side explaining that the elongated feature is suspected to allow for their enhanced vocal chords.

"Thank you. Can I take this home with me to study better?"

I plan on being here for a while going over everything I can with Fynn, but I have a feeling this is going to take longer than an afternoon to go through.

"Of course. Just please don't write in the margins. If you like, I have empty journals you can use for your notes."

I accept his offer, and he crosses the library to a lower shelf and pulls out a small notebook, handing it to me. I was expecting a basic cardstock spiral notebook, but the one he hands me looks to be hand-bound in soft blue leather, the size of a standard-size novel. I try to give it back, insisting it's too much, but he ignores my refusal and pulls another book from the shelf, settling himself in the seat across from me.

We spend the rest of the afternoon talking of all things non-human past and present, including those who live in Snowberry and what I can expect of a life here.

"Why is it called Snowberry anyway?" I ask the question that I've been curious about ever since Luna told me all those months ago.

"Because of the snowberry flowers that grow wild in the woods. They basically owned this area before it was cleared for the town. They had always referred to it as the Snowberry Field and decided the name should stay. Thus, they named the town Snowberry. If you look at the town crest, it has snowberries on it as well," Fynn answers as if he were there when the decision was made, which he well could have been considering how long non-humans live.

His house does seem to be older in style and well settled into the lake and surrounding area's landscape.

"If you're going to be staying, we'll need to add you to the town census. I'll need a little more information from you if that's alright?"

It hadn't crossed my mind that I'd become a member of their town. In choosing Hunter and our mate bond, I instantly became one of them, and they expect me to live here now.

The thought is overwhelming but also thrilling. Starting a new life was what I was searching for, was it not? To become myself again and leave behind the Alexandria persona. I guess I just never expected to find it so quickly, so easily—well, sort of easily. Vincent posed a slight bump in our path, but thanks to my newfound ability, he won't be a problem ever again.

"Of course, I would love to be added to your records."