Chapter 420: Chapter 420

Currey finally slumped down in the seat he was in. He was not physically tired; that was far from it, even though he had been in the same spot with his hands running over the keyboard for hours. It had been more than seventeen hours since he had sat by the computers, trying to get any detail that might help him.

He had put together all the hints, investigation, and information he had been privy to search for what Aliya was. Currey knew, but he had a hunch that whatever he knew was just the tip of the iceberg, and he was right.

Currey knew the hint to find what was going on, as well as the accident and whatnot, had something to do with her. It was not even a feeling, but Currey was absolutely sure, and he needed more info on this. He had already spent countless hours on this. However, looking at the information on the screen, Currey felt a chill run down his back.

"How come I have never heard of such a creature before? She had us all almost fooled!"

Currey ran his hands over his eyes and stared, frozen in his seat. His eyes darted between two images of the same being—a creature that defied reason, each version more unsettling than the last for entirely different reasons. As a Fae and one that dwelt on looking for information, Currey had seen all sorts of things in his life, but this? It was entirely different.

On one of the screens was a delicate beauty that could shatter even the strongest will. Her skin shimmered with a pearlescent glow, the kind that seemed to drink in the light and reflect it back in softer, dreamier hues.

Cascading, impossibly fluid hair tumbled down her shoulders like liquid silver, shimmering in the water body that she floated in. Her eyes were vast and haunting, yet there was an undeniable allure in them, a pull that whispered promises of untold bliss and secret wisdom. One that any man could lose themselves in.

Her smile, though slight, carried a dangerous sweetness. The kind of smile could compel men to wade into the depths, willingly surrendering to whatever lay beneath. She was hypnotic, divine, a marvel of nature so perfectly constructed that it almost hurt to look at her for too long. Maybe that was why most sailors got lost to such creatures.

But on the second screen, a different story unfolded, making one question their sanity because it was obvious that the two creatures were one.

It was twisted into a gross horror, her true form revealed as though peeling away a mask. Her pearlescent skin had turned sickly and blotched, a mottled greyish green that looked as though it were rotting. The hair that once flowed like silk now hung in tangled, dripping strands, resembling seaweed dredged from the ocean’s floor. Her enchanting eyes had become monstrous orbs, bulging unnaturally with pupils that flickered and swirled like whirlpools of madness.

That beautiful smile—oh, that smile—had become something else entirely. Where charm once lived, jagged rows of needle-like teeth now lurked, barely concealed behind lips cracked and oozing with something that Currey did not want even to imagine.

Her hands, graceful in one image, were now skeletal, with long, spindly fingers ending in claws that looked capable of rending flesh from bone. The shimmering tail from the first image had become a revolting, slimy appendage, its scales dulled and flaking, as if the creature were decaying from the inside out. In the water body were the lifeless bodies of men.

Currey’s stomach churned as he looked at the second image. A wave of disgust rose in him, an instinctive response to something fundamentally wrong. His skin prickled as though icy fingers had traced down his spine, and he instinctively reared back in the seat.

How could these two beings be the same? He scanned the screens again, comparing the features, finding undeniable similarities. The tilt of the head, the arch of the brows, even the faint contour of the jawline—everything screamed that they were one and the same. Yet the contrast was impossible to reconcile: one a vision of unearthly allure, the other a nightmare dredged from the darkest depths of the human psyche.

"A siren that feeds on the essence of men...."

Currey grimaced, feeling bile rise up in his throat.

As he stared, he felt a gnawing dread creep over him. The screens felt too large, too oppressive, and the images too vivid, as though at any moment, the creature in either guise might step out, shattering the fragile boundary between reality and whatever unholy realm she hailed from, and that was when he gasped.

"His Highness is in danger!"

Currey shot up from his seat

"A what?" Ian asked stupefied!

"A Sorrow Weaver... named so because of their characteristics to ’emotional vampires’..."

"Aliya is a vampire.? Then how did Ingrid...."

Mr Monroe chuckled at Ian’s statement, making Ian confused,

"No, she is not a vampire. It’s just a term we coined for them over time, and it’s because they act like one."

"That refers to people who drain the emotional energy from the people around them. The Sorrow Weaver likes the essence of men more than that of women."

Ian’s eyes went back to the scene where Aliya had sucked something from Tyler, and he still could not believe his eyes,

"They are mer-women too, and especially sirens who have gone astray. They are the deadliest of our kinds and are not to be trifled with."

"Think back to when you were cooped indoors after her death? What did you feel?"

"You mean?" Ian started but then thought back to the two years that he had stayed cooped up.

Those were the days that Ian did not want to think back to. The days when he felt like he was nothing without Aliya.

"It was a relentless, crushing weight that seemed to anchor to the very depths of my soul," Ian whispered, his eyes taking on a faraway look,

"It wasn’t the kind of sorrow that led to tears or an outburst; it was quieter, more insidious, like a slow poison that hollowed me out from the inside. It felt like I was dying, a slow, painful death that was eating me from the inside.... like dying but never enough actually to let me escape into death—a cruel tether to suffering.

There were days when the exhaustion became so unbearable, as if the very act of breathing sapped what little strength I had left. On those days, my body would betray me, making me succumb to sleep so deep it stretched for days, yet there was no relief. I would awaken, not rested, but disoriented." Ian stopped talking and looked at Mr Monroe,

"To sum it up, it was like living on the edge of nothingness in perpetual sadness," Ian murmured, "too weak to climb back but never weak enough to let go entirely."

"Congratulations, you had a taste of the Sorrow Weaver...."

"Yes, that is how they operate,

"She got your love... or rather, your emotions directed at her.... and then she orchestrated the action, left and then ’broke’ your heart so that she could feed."

"Don’t bother with that question. Her supposed fiancé was also just a meal to her, as you saw."

"She might have had a special place in her heart for you, for she kept you alive for long enough. Those kinds are shunned in our lands, which may be why she is still here to feed more..."

"But why would such a person give birth and even adopt?"

"Maybe for the appearances, but I don’t know why she adopted a boy and let him be.... They usually like the essence of such innocent children the best. They rile them and then gobble their essence so that only the empty husk of the body is left.... That boy sure is lucky to be alive."

"So that means that she was the person in the background? Because if what you say is what is, then Shelby would have been a stumbling block to her plans, and she would have tried to do away with her-"

"You finally connected the dots! With my daughter in the equation, you became emotionally stable, loved and brimmed with happiness, which is not what they want. Sorrow Weavers only like the negative emotions and those linked to them."

Ian’s mouth dropped open, and a chill ran down his back.

"But why would she do this against her own kind?"

"My daughter cannot be considered a mer person. Even though I am, she had no markers at all at birth, and that was why I did my best to give her a comfortable human life."

"Once in a while, such children are born. She does have my blood, but at most, it will protect her in a few instances. My Princess fully took after her mother and did not inherit my traits. I was sad when I learned that, but I think it’s for the best for my baby’s happiness. She’s one of those unique ones, and that keeps her out of their radar as they hate half-breeds. With you around, she should be okay... Can I trust you now?"

Ian nodded solemnly. He did not feel as drained at that moment, and his emotions were in check.

"For my Princess’ sake, I’ll use the last of my essence to help you."

Ian went down on his knees, bowing his head in ingratitude. Apart from his wife and kids, this man was the only one who deserved this kind of bow in Ian’s view.

"After this, I won’t be able to protect her again and leave her in your hands.... Mind you, I still have measures in place for when you go back on your promise!" Mr Monroe warned, his eyes taking on a deadly glint, telling Ian that he was not to be trifled with.

"I will never do anything to hurt my Elfin! I promise! But is she really alive?"

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