"Now, sit." Everrin ordered Dagon. Excited to learn about sirena, he sat down on the grass outside the city walls. Boy was fourteen years old and had lost his mom and dad when he was little so his parents were not there to teach him about sirena. He was living with her aunt who is a cordless.
"I'm ready, Big Sis Everrin," said Dagon.
Everrin sat in front of her. "First of… What do you know about sirena?"
Dagon thought. "Hmm… I know it's a power that can be used. It resides inside the navel. And… It's yellow and cool!"
Everrin smiled at Dagon, impressed by his eagerness and the little he already knew. She leaned forward, her voice calm but steady as she began.
"Good start, Dagon. Sirena is a power, and you're right that it's stored here, in the navel." She tapped her own stomach lightly. "But it's not something everyone can use, even if they're born with it. It takes a very specific set of events to even have it. Do you know why?"
Dagon shook his head, eyes wide with curiosity.
"Alright," she continued, "sirena only awakens if you've been fed your own umbilical cord right after birth. If you weren't fed the cord, then your body never connects to sirena, and you're what we call cordless—like your aunt. But for those of us who were fed our cords, there are two paths. Either the body accepts it and we become corded, or…" she paused, letting her words sink in, "the body rejects it. That's when a baby becomes a dead cord."
Dagon's face turned serious. "What happens to a dead cord?"
Everrin exhaled softly. "Dead cords don't live long. They're poisoned, in a way, because the sirena tries to settle in but instead starts eating away at their bodies. Their eyes turn bright yellow right away, and soon, they feel pain... it's not something easy to watch. Most die within the first few years."
Dagon nodded, looking down. She could tell he felt the weight of her words.
"But if the body accepts the cord," she continued, "then you become corded, like me—and now, like you."
"So I'm corded…" Dagon whispered, as if saying it made it feel real.
"Yes. And there are two kinds of corded: sense cords and manipulation cords. Each has different abilities. Tell me, Dagon, when you think about your sirena, what do you feel? Have you ever had a sense of people around you, even if you couldn't see them? Or maybe you've felt your body grow stronger in certain moments?"
Dagon tilted his head, his face scrunched in thought. "Sometimes, I feel this... like, tingling when someone is really close by, even when I'm not looking."
Everrin's eyes brightened. "Ah, so you're a sense cord! That makes sense, then. Sense cords have a gift for awareness. You can sense other corded people around you and sometimes even pick up on their emotions."
Dagon's eyes widened. "Emotions?"
"Exactly," she nodded. "With practice, you'll be able to tell what others are feeling. Some sense cords can even read minds, though it's rare and usually requires a lot of sirena density. And the rarest among sense cords can actually change someone's emotions—or even their thoughts—if they're close enough."
Dagon leaned forward, clearly fascinated. "Can I learn to do that?"
"It's not guaranteed," she said gently. "But maybe, if you're patient and work hard. For now, start by listening. Find a quiet space, like here, and focus on your navel. See if you can feel others nearby. It'll be faint at first, but over time, your senses will grow sharper."
"Okay… I think I can try that." He closed his eyes for a moment, as if already trying to sense something. "I… I think I see some light. One, in fact."
Everrin smiled. "That would be me since there is no one around us! You can sense me. Good work dear."
Dagon opened her eyes and grinned. "I did it!"
Everrin waited a beat, then continued, "For me, I'm a manipulation cord. My abilities are different from yours. I can actually draw sirena from my navel and use it to strengthen my body or shape it into things, like weapons. Manipulation cords can sometimes even control others' sirena, though it's not easy."
Dagon's jaw dropped. "You can make things with it?"
"Yes," she said, grinning, "though it takes imagination and a lot of focus. I can't just think 'sword' and make one appear; I have to see it in my mind, every detail, for it to become real. And if I'm not careful, it'll fade fast."
Dagon looked at her, awed. "So... is there anything bad about having sirena?"
Everrin nodded. "There is, actually. Using sirena too much can burn it out. It's like having a well of water; if you draw too much, it can dry up. A person who's burned out their sirena becomes like a cordless. They lose all abilities."
He looked down, processing this. "So... it's powerful, but it has limits."
"Exactly. Knowing your limits is part of mastering it. And there's one more thing: sirenastone."
"Sirenastone?" he echoed, intrigued.
Everrin nodded. "When a corded person dies, if they don't use all their sirena, it can settle into a stone beneath them. These stones are rare and valuable. They're bright yellow, with black streaks. Some people just like wearing them, but corded people can use them to absorb sirena. It's powerful but addictive. People who take too much can't stop."
Dagon's eyes were wide as he took it all in. "I never knew all this, Big Sis."
Everrin placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's a lot to learn, but take it one step at a time. Start with sensing. Soon, you'll understand what it means to have sirena—and the responsibility that comes with it."
She watched as Dagon nodded, a determined look in his eyes. For the first time, he seemed to grasp the path ahead of him, and she could see a bit of herself in him, that same hunger to understand and control a power few possessed.
"Now," she said, "let's start practicing."