• Borus rowed diligently on the river that tunneled its way through the lurking caves. The walls leered at him curiously, wondering what kind of strange creature was he. Not the first time the caves had witnessed the presence of a hominid like him, but certainly an endangered phenomenon it was. The caves themselves made Borus unnerved - not, however, because of the darkness and shadows, as most from the land are frightened, but instead with the possibility of another sentient creature lurking within them. Borus, in his small rowboat, was flustered by his need to shed his layers to swim across the underground river to reach the boat, as his clothes were bound to become wet regardless. His robes and pants were folded behind him on his boat, leaving his arms and legs bare, with nothing but a short brown tunic that just reaches his torso, turquoise briefs that tightly cover his pelvis, and sturdy boots up to his shins. The worry being that he would be underequipped for a confrontation with a being that might have insidious intent.
    Fortunately, Borus was prepared with some non-physical means of self-protection in the form of spells, conjurations, and hexes which he had learned from his Witch mentor. He was a strange prodigy among the witches in his home village. He had managed to perfect the ability to conjure permanent inanimate enchanted objects which were indestructible, and whose magic qualities never faded. He was fairly inexperienced, however, as he could only manage to cast such spells a few times per day before his magic energy became exhausted. He conjured an everlasting torch and safely fastened it to the bow of the rowboat, which gave him some clarity in which to know his surroundings.
    The caves had gradually been relaxing and breathing lighter, with faint light now seeping out from the end of each corridor. Not long after Borus noticed his brighter surroundings did he start hearing a muffled echo of a voice in song. It was immediately apparent how eccentric it sounded, which gave Borus a silent start. It gave the image of a giddy young woman to Borus, which he found deeply unsettling according to his environment. The rate of his progress through the caves became more stagnated, and took breaks more often, anxious to encounter the source of the voice.
    After a few more corridors he was quietly stricken by the realization that he was undoubtedly hearing a siren’s seductive call. Slowly he lifted the torch from the bow of his rowboat and scanned his immediate environment in petrified anticipation. He could not yet identify where the siren would be calling from. He cautiously continued through the caverns, spurred by the creeping fear of what may lie in the prying caves.
    To his dismay, the voice only became louder the further he came to the end of the caves. Eventually, he could make out words:

    Godspeed young heart-throb, flee!
    To pleasurable company,
    For corruption sneaks behind you,
    Bringing with glee,
    A voice that wilts
    Inspiration before thee

    Borus’ blood and sweat became cold. The gradually brightening reflections at the end of each turn in the caverns became haunted to his mind. The light felt like a painful, oblivious glean that destroyed all that did not fit its righteousness.
    He could not see the siren, no matter where he looked. Could she see him? He shuddered at the thought. In a panic, he began rowing with a stronger effort than before, moving faster towards the brightened turns that gave him a disturbing feeling.
    Around one last corner came abruptly the end of the caves, bright silver moonlight gleaming through the cavern. The opening at the end revealed the open sea, with a large orphaned rock protruding from the open sea twenty meters from the cavern exit. Atop the rock was the siren, still singing her haunting verse on repeat.
    Shivers cover Borus head to toe until he is numb. What was he to do, and where was he to go? He knew that the closer to the siren he went the more enticing her spell on him would become. If he arrived at the arch of the cavern’s exit, her spell would surely be unbreakable within his soul, for he sensed this was a powerful song.
    The siren could now see her victim, and what a desirable young man he was, with soft, bushy hair and an earnest complexion. She can smell the presence of any naïve and fool-hardy man from many leagues away. The open sea is vast, and there is little that can obfuscate the scent of a brash upstart. His soul would be a beautiful edition to complete her collection of servant souls. His soul would make a most eloquent seahorse to serve her. Now if only she could lure him closer…Perhaps a fib of her fabled ability to please a man, and the delicacy of her carefully braided long hair? Yes… her nearly naked form wearing only scale mail briefs would be more than enough to captivate him… and once his soul was ensnared it would grant her more freedom and status amongst the ranks of The Keepers, and the attention of their glorious leader, The Tome Keeper, certainly.
    Borus took shelter within a nook on the side of the caverns to think about a strategy to overcome the siren. His first solution, a temporary one, was to conjure some earmuffs to muffle the sound of her song. He was hesitant about enchanting them, though, for he already exhausted a portion of his energy for the torch. The earmuffs worked well to allow him more progress towards the exit of the cave.
    The siren was singing a different song now, but Borus was thankful he could not hear her words this time. As he approached the cavern opening, his body became gradually weaker, and his head was growing hot-blooded and heavy by the siren’s spell. He struggled to focus, now longing for rest and relaxation. No! He could not rest now, lest he succumbed to the siren.
    Borus wrestled with the soothing song of the siren, desperate to keep his head. He was at the exit of the cave now, and the siren was in plain view and her song felt more alluring than ever. The siren’s voice had creeped its way into his veins slowly, so much so that by this time it had only just occurred to him that he was almost completely overwhelmed by it. His body was teetering and raw from exhaustion, he tried desperately not to plea with the siren, for she would only talk him into love with her.
    In his undulating despair, he was pushed into his last thought for self-defence. Mustering all of his concentration, he thought of a hex, muttered the incantation under his breath, and pointed his two forefingers in the direction of the siren’s face. An enchanted white fabric materialized immediately out of thin air and tightly wrapped itself around the siren’s mouth, silencing her instantly and indefinitely.
    The siren jumped in a panic, and frantically attempted to work away at the cloth binding her mouth shut, but it would not budge. The young man was a magic user, much to her surprise and dismay. What’s more, the fabric did not allow a peep of sound to penetrate through it, meaning indefinitely that it was tied to a spell of some kind. Despite all of her efforts, the siren could not break the hex of the gag.
    Borus pulls off his earmuffs and shouts, “Calm, my fair lady, calm! My hex cannot be broken, not now, not ever. Thanks to your abuse of your sweet voice, your thoughts may never again be so conveniently illustrated to others. Now is time to make efforts to find another way of connecting to your peers. Perhaps you can start life anew and make peace with the souls you previously coveted. Think of this not as a hex, but a mercy. You have been given a second chance, do not squander it. I have a further gift for you, in exchange for the sacrifice of your voice.”
    The siren breathed heavily through her nose and glared at Borus with a misty gaze of grief, fury and terror that could no longer be succinctly expressed. Borus anchored the rowboat and reached behind him into his apothecary and pulled out a small object closed in his hand. Then he swung his legs over the side and slipped into the water. He swam over to the rock, hand still clenched with the mysterious small gift. The siren flinched at his arrival, tensely anticipating his next move. He opened his hand to reveal a flawless pearl. Such things were rare and coveted in the land, as they could make one immune to all physical and bodily ailments.
    The siren was bewildered. Embarrassed and taken aback, she blushed, her eyes fixated on the pearl. She carefully held out her hands to receive it. As Borus dropped it into her hands, he said, “This will augment your beauty modestly.” Her eyes flared at him with emotion. “You may have forever lost your ability to speak, but you are fortunate that that is all you have lost. For now you are free from the woes of physical suffering. Be grateful, and I wish you a merry life!”
    The siren hastily turned from him when he was done speaking. She looked back at him one last time with her humiliated misty gaze. Then she flicked her hair vainly and dove back into the sea, from whence she no longer planned to re-emerge.