Swan Song Novels & Stories

​The Andromeda Slipstream didn't just carry the Unified Fleet across the parsecs; it acted as a sensory deprivation tank. Inside the Respiration’s living hull, the "Song of the Still-World"—the new verse gifted by the liberated Silent-Caste—vibrated like a cold, silver needle. It was a frequency of Persistence, a low-end hum that felt like the groaning of tectonic plates.

to his fvcking question. These drunk nincompoops ! Pfft. I am gonna sue each one of them !! Someone just fvck me ! What do I sing now ? “Sing for mate,” Creon suggested. “But what ?” I asked back through the mindlink. “Ask for his forgiveness,” Micalo supplied. “Sing BTS’s ‘Spring Day’. Dedicate the song to him,” he added. “Hmm. Good idea ! But hey !! Since when did you get so smart in the music department ?” I asked my wolf.

I whispered, my finger hovering over the hidden trigger of the locket I still wore. "He’s currently busy with three destroyers and a boarding party of sixty men," Silas said, his eyes gleaming with a twisted triumph. "By the time he realizes you're gone, you’ll be over the Caspian Sea." Suddenly, the intercom system of the ship groaned to life. It wasn't a tactical update. It was music. The haunting, melancholic strains of Swan Lake—the song from my father's music box. Silas frowned, his grip on the gun faltering for a split second. "What is this?"

I can understand his fear. I nod. "He's a gentleman, Grandpa, no worries." When Grandpa raises an eyebrow; "I promise, Grandpa, he's a good man." He nods in satisfaction and as this song nears the end, I see Abuelo Lopez coming over as if he's not sure if he should or not. I smile at Abuelo Lopez as he asks Grandpa Wheaton if he can cut in. Grandpa Wheaton nods with a smile as he leaves to let Abuelo Lopez dance with me.

We will be screwed if someone finds evidence. Then the announcement that Alison's class will be next coming up on stage. It was visible she was already in pain but she hides it very well. Normal people would still see her noble act but it will be her last. As soon as their play finished I heard the commotion already. Although the people outside the curtains are not aware of what was happening, I was gleefully singing. "Today the black swan perish, today the black swan perish. Oh, how awful it is for the black swan to be defeated. But she is evil and she deserves it." I sang happily as they announced our group to be next on stage.

I cried, resting my lips on his cheeks in an attempt to lessen the pain he was going through given his loud groans and the sweat forming on his forehead. The Siren's Song, lethal to anyone unfortunate enough to hear it, is the reason why sirens are as intimidating as they are rumored to be. Undefeatable and inescapable. Written about in the archives of military war plans concocted over the centuries, never been used in the past 500 years. Forbidden magic, only used as a defense to deter persons from a fight, is never meant to be practiced. Yet here I am, killing my only source of happiness left in this world of desertion and betrayal.

I want them to feel the same thing as me, I want to see them cry like I did. Why must I suffer when it wasn't even my fault in the end. By the pond where I used to sit by, there were number of swans in there. But mysteriously a black swan appeared and the white swan's looked like they were bullying that black one. A month later, all of those swan's are dead and the black swan was the only resident. I could feel it smirking. Did it drive all of them out, so that it can survive? The Swan's eyes are red and hold pride. It's the nature's law - the survival of the fittest. I looked into its eyes and power isn't something that can be obtained, it should be taken from. I decided, I'm going to be th

I replied. Swan fell quiet as in a state of shock. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” I asked worriedly. “I've been having these visions, it's all death, blood, and guts. I think it signifies a great battle that suffers great loss for both sides," Swan said grabbing my hands but quickly let them go. As quick as Swan sat down, the quicker she stood up. "Swan? What just happened?" I asked confused agin. “Tell Jubilee you love him," she sadly smiled before walking away.

She alone remained there, My little swallow, And I'm here in this foreign land. I miss her day and night. Sorrow, sorrow for that girl, For green Forterein; Sorrow, sorrow, heart is crying, I will see her no more. Wine, wine, give me wine! And when I die bury me In green Forterein, By my dear girl. By my dear family. The crowd cheered, more and more of them came. “We want that new one!” the crowd reacted even more. “One…two…three…” Aster counted until the song started:

The wonderful stars tell me Tales of great music halls above There great melodies are produced By sterling symphony orchestra There Swan Maidens Play their golden harps In tune with the silvery violas Of the angelic men Beautiful images arise, the tidings Holding everyone captivated. These stars in their sublimity Radiate to mankind inexplicable light They also direct and control the Fates of men What tales of marvelous fragrance These stars tell me each time I gaze up to them. Indeed, wonderful are the stars,' Nneoma concluded. She was quiet for a while. ‘Beautiful…' she said, nodding slowly . ‘The iridescent stars… These are the lines I like most: “There swan maidens play their golden harp