Rosemary Waves

creatures of light and memory swam among the heavens. Spun from stardust and the essence of ether, the Sirens, as wise as they were powerful, drifted through existence, painting the cosmos with beams of colourful starlight.

These celestial beings, with iridescent tails, ethereal voices, and star-speckled skin, tended the vast library between the stars, known as the Labyrinth. A maze of endless possibility—past, present, and future—cradled within a sacred vault, touched by their spirits alone. The Sirens' song was the only key capable of guiding one through its ever-changing corridors. Bound to the vault by magic so profound that even Crimson, the being who commanded the heavens themselves, knew not the true depths of the Sirens' powerful Labyrinth.

We know from the Sirens' archives that creation was born through the bond of a great family tie.

Crimson and Earth blossomed into existence side by side—the former to cultivate the heavens, the latter to create and nurture all life below—with a single cord strung between them. Push and pull. Balance and harmony. Brother and sister.

Earth became known as the Great Mother Nature. Vast forests of evergreen trees flourished beneath the grace of her touch. Crystal-clear waters glittered beneath the starlight, where animals inspired by the Sirens darted beneath their shimmering surface. The Great Mother perfected her artistry through the creation of the Fae—elusive, immortal beings who dwelled within ancient mounds hidden among her most sacred lands. A mother to all beneath the heavens, her magic, creativity, and pride boundless.

The cord between brother and sister soon served as a bridge of creation between all life above and below. Stars danced with tree dwellers, creating new realms where one could dream and taste new magic. Spirits of the sky paused along the cord between realms, painting the heavens with twilight colours and sunset hues. Earthly Faeries rearranged the stars so their loved ones might always find their way upon solid ground.

Citrus was born from the rays of the sun and the fires beneath the light of the moon. The seasons changed by Crimson's might, so that both earth and sky might know times of rest and abundance. Life and art bloomed peacefully. All creatures travelled the long cord; existence and creativity knew no limits.

As life grew wild and grand, so too did the Labyrinth's books and shelves.

Until one day, Mother Nature found herself in the arms of The Sun. Her passion for the light-being ran deep beneath the roots of her soil and reached into the skies in golden hues of glimmering light. Rainbows, more vibrant than ever before, touched both solid ground and the wide-open air. Together, the pair became the very essence of life itself. While their love was pure and whole, their passion bled into the cosmos, and it wasn't long before proof of their affair found its way to the Sirens' sacred vault.

Marri, Siren Goddess of Knowledge and beloved friend of Crimson, was the first to notice the books disappearing. She watched as one book after another, each holding truth, time, and possibility, dissolved into shimmering dust—the remnants of the Sirens' eternal work soon clouding every aisle of the library.

After countless sleepless cycles, Marri discovered that as one book dissolved, another would bleed from the walls of the Labyrinth. Books with dark, worn bindings and pages that spoke in riddles and half-truths, written by the ether itself, all told extravagant tales of human creatures and shadows who would soon roam the solid ground.

The Siren's tail grew less luminescent as she tore through every weathered page. Thinning arms clawed at the Labyrinth's sacred walls, her terror twisting through the stars as one truth became clear: the cord would soon be severed by the love between Earth and Sun, forever changing the fabric of fate for all.

Marri trembled beside Crimson as she relayed all that had befallen her vault.

With flaming cheeks, Crimson confronted his sister, urging her to leave the Sun, for his place was in the sky and hers below. Mother Nature, at the height of her creativity and blinded by passion, refused to bow to the whims of what she called a lonely, desperate cosmic body—blood or otherwise.

The argument that followed between brother and sister wrought devastation across both heaven and earth.

After many days of debate, anguish, trial, and fury from star-strewn and earthly creatures alike, all life watched as fire spilled from Nature's golden eyes and ice swam within Crimson's crystal-blue gaze. Blood-bound and unwilling to compromise, brother and sister turned away from one another in one fluid motion.

All of existence fell into stillness as the cord's snap echoed throughout every realm.

Terror rang out as countless sky beings, earth spirits, and Fae became trapped wherever they stood as the cord broke free. Twilight settled between heaven and earth. Sky Goddesses were forced to remain upon solid ground. Tree-dwelling Fae visiting their kin were suddenly held within heaven's grasp, their forms imprinted among the stars. Marri dove in an attempt to catch the cord, only to be pulled from her place beside Crimson into Earth's waters below, severing her connection to her beloved Labyrinth.

The silence that followed Marri's splash into the deep sea cut into the very essence of the ether. Wide-eyed, blanched, and without a single glance towards his sister, Crimson walked into the unknown and closed himself away. Mother Nature looked on to where her brother had disappeared, shaking hands finding their way to her heart as pain spilled from her spirit like hot, violent lava. Her sobs echoed through all of creation as shimmering tears spilled from her eyes, filling her freshwater seas with salt, turmoil, love, loss, and regret.

The prophecy had come to pass. Although magic remained flowing through every Goddess, God, and spirit alike, the enchantment had taken hold in every known plane of existence, and the gift of absolute newness had been forfeited.

The Sirens' mourning songs rang through the heavens.

Many years had passed, and Mother Nature had since given birth to women, men, and many human-like creatures in between. Proud and determined, she vowed to protect and provide all she could for her last magnificent creations and every being damned by her love affair. Nature had found a way through the magic that had befallen the realms.

Although nothing new could be forged into existence after the severing of their family bond, she fashioned these new creatures in such a way that they could create art of their own and, if they chose to, wield the wild energy flowing through her lands. Women were made in her image, to bear life, in an attempt to keep creativity alive for good. The great illusion of newness.

One twilight spirit, Alura, who had been trapped within the skies, Mother Nature touched so that she might dance upon the earth, if only beneath the moonlit hours. Nature pulled spirits from flowers, such as Elidora, the Chamomile Spirit, to ward off the dark shadows that inevitably found their way into the lands, teaching other goddesses to draw upon flowers in humanity's name. For Marri, she made it so the new salty waters could hold all earthbound memory, with a vast new library hidden within their deepest depths.

Nature had stopped at nothing to atone for her sins.

Crimson watched the turbulent seas from his place within the unknown, captivated by the lapping waves and the ruthless water's swirl of pain and beauty. He turned to find Rosemary, Siren daughter of Marri, just beyond the ether's haze. As she reached for the now-dried earthly herbs braided into her hair, she too had been staring into the sea's dark abyss.

Crimson couldn't fathom that even the Sirens had become prisoners because of his arrogance. He realised then that he, too, must do something to ease the pain he had caused, if not for Nature, then for Marri and her kin.

Shaking the heavens as he stepped from the unknown into the stars, Crimson gathered the Sirens. Finally breaking his silence, he simply said,

“Make it so no woman sheds another tear from the pride of man. Draw them to the depths if you must.”

With those words, Crimson cast the vault from the heavens.

Not one Siren objected as they were pulled into the depths below.

From where she lay upon the sand, Marri smiled at her old friend as she watched hundreds of stars fall into the sea.

The Sirens spread to every shore and swam beneath the surface of the whole ocean blue. Naiads and nymphs, the earthly immortal offspring born from the bonds between Sirens, Fae, and even some human magic wielders, took to rivers and lakes.

Light and magic thrived under the protection of the Great Mother. Yet so, too, did the earth's fresh, mysterious darkness and shadow, carving their way into the minds and hearts of humans and eternal creatures alike. Where light went, darkness followed. Right and wrong. Love and hate. Balance and harmony. One could not exist without the other.

It hadn't taken long for humans to set sail upon Nature's waters in pursuit of both knowledge and conquest. The Sirens' ancient, ethereal song remained the only key to the Labyrinth, but it also served as a lure, drawing wicked, darkened souls into the salty abyss to become nothing more than memory, consumed by the library below. And although their earthborn offspring could not access the Labyrinth through song, all Siren kin could be summoned by the tears of women and the boats of men to bless the pure of heart or fill the lungs of the unworthy.

Twirling a jasmine flower between delicate fingers, Alethea stood upon the warm sand and relaxed into its pebbled massage as cool salt spray reached out in welcome with every watery crash against the nearby rocks. Briny, fresh winds swirled around her form as she watched the sun disappear beyond the horizon, the sky painted every shade of pink in its departure.

Fire flashed before her violet eyes. She snapped them shut quickly, swallowing shallow breaths in an attempt to exhale the flames into the sea before her. When she opened them once more, she saw the skyline had since been washed in an intoxicating twilight blue, and several stars had begun their nightly spectacle across the heavens. How long had she been standing there?

She looked down at the jasmine flowers fluttering together in her other palm, gently urging her into the darkening water. She knew not whom she was destined to meet, but the petals had led her to this shore nonetheless, like a compass and the pull of an invisible cord tied around her wrist. Her feet had moved swiftly, and still she remained upright despite the coarse winds and her wish to simply disappear beneath the woodland soil she had crossed to reach the coast.

Her vision blurred as she felt a phantom pressure around her neck. Alethea did not blink as she looked out to the twinkling horizon once more and inched her way closer to the lapping waves. With every step, the ocean seemed to swell in greeting.

Barely one day prior, Alethea had been lying on the forest floor, startled from an enclosing darkness by unfamiliar voices.

“Only if you allow me to hunt down the man who has caused such pain.”

The other voice must have smiled. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

With those words, Alethea lurched upright, gasping for air as shaking hands clawed at her throat. Realising air flowed naturally, she glanced up to find two pairs of eyes staring back at her, one shimmering earthly gold and the other a hypnotic green. Introductions were unnecessary. Alethea knew, as most did, that the golden gaze could only belong to the Great Mother, and the evergreen to the floral Moon Goddess, Jasmine, who travelled the very trees above them. Both goddesses, it seemed, also deemed pleasantries unnecessary.

It was Jasmine's moonglow arms that pulled Alethea to her feet before cupping her face with steady hands and looking directly into her frantic eyes.

“You are more than what has happened, Alethea,” Jasmine said softly. “You are uplifting, and your essence is more healing than you know.”

Alethea's lips trembled as the realisation settled deep within her: what had happened had not been a waking dream. Her breath caught just as a twig snapped among the nearby trees, drawing the goddesses' gaze away towards a lone traveller.

Without hesitation, Jasmine said, “You will help me find the beast.”

With a gentle nod, the traveller simply set down their large pack and stood as though waiting for the goddess's next instruction. Jasmine's gentle smile turned wild in return.

Alethea couldn't help but stare at the glittering complexion that graced Jasmine's womanly shape, finding her both endearing and terrifying in equal measure.

As if complimenting her thoughts, the Moon Goddess curtsied as she turned back to Alethea with the same wild smile, her hands suddenly full of delicate jasmine flowers.

“They will show you the way,” Jasmine said, filling Alethea's palms with the fragrant blossoms before dashing into the trees, the traveller close in tow.

Mother Nature watched with a slight gleam in her eye as the floral goddess disappeared into the early night. She exhaled before turning back to Alethea, whose vacant stare had become fixed on where the traveller had stood just moments before.

“I'm sorry we couldn't save the others.” The Great Mother's voice was like a compress to Alethea's bleeding heart as she realised the goddesses must have performed the sacred transformation.

“So I'm...” Alethea's voice quavered as she turned to Nature's warm gaze.

“Yes, you have been made immortal,” Mother Nature began, pausing briefly to pull Alethea into her arms before placing a kiss upon her forehead. “But there is always a choice. I know you will find peace, my child.”

Nature's breath hitched. Pulling away and filling her voice once more with a mother's resolve, she continued, “Although she prefers greenery, she will answer all your queries through offering. May Jasmine's flowers serve you well.”

With a sly, knowing smile and gentle hands, Nature caressed the happily bustling flowers before fading into the cover of night.

Alethea, now waist-deep in the water, let loose the bouncing buds, their fragrance—which had, in fact, eased her roaring spirit throughout the long journey—soon swallowed by the sea.

A new aroma filled her senses and sent the dam of unrushed tears streaming down her cheeks. Rosemary. She knew it well. The herbaceous plant had been her mother's favourite. Alethea realised then that hundreds of aromatic leaves, flowers, branches, and bundles swirled with the tide, as if the ocean itself were mixing an herbal remedy. She watched as the floating jasmine began to mingle with the rosemary branches pooling just beyond the gentle pull of the tide, and without a second thought, Alethea dove.

The water felt heavy around her, its magic pulsing alongside her veins. Sand, clouded pressure, push and pull—all welcome distractions.

Under the waves, she thought that perhaps her new form would allow her to slip into the watery abyss unnoticed. Or maybe the elusive, all knowing Sirens from her mother's bedtime tales would find her unworthy and drag her to their depths, saving her from inhaling the bittersweet aroma a second time.

Soon proving herself terribly wrong, Alethea's urgent need for air forced her to clamber to her feet, choking on water as she broke the surface.

Air flowing easily once more, Alethea dove beneath the rosemary waves, pushing her starlight-coloured hair from her face before rising to the wild night air once again, her mother's leaves littering her salty skin.

Alethea had barely taken another breath when a voice sent an ancient sort of frost and calm into her core.

“Witch, if you are trying to drown yourself, it will not work.”

Alethea froze as she caught sight of a powerful, luminescent tail peeking above the water before disappearing into the darkened sea. She searched the water with wild eyes, only to be startled once more by a whispered melody beside her ear.

“Your tears taste of the Great Mother's touch...”

Alethea slowly turned to find the owner of such a beautifully haunting voice. A Siren, with kind, ocean-filled eyes, every shade of blue swirling in depths of ever-changing light. Her rich chocolate hair painted her bare bosom and danced upon the rippling water, while rosemary twisted braids framed her angelic face.

“Our kind is not blessed with that sort of relief.”

The Siren offered a sad yet comforting smile as a delicate hand gently squeezed Alethea's pebbled arm.

With one effortless sweep of her tail, the ethereal being arrived where Jasmine's flowers had gathered and turned once more to face Alethea, now swaying with the moonlit pull of the water.

“I’m Rosemary, Goddess of Knowledge, like my mother before me, and Herbal Goddess of Memory to the sea.” Rosemary glanced down to tap the glistening blooms beside her before continuing with an amused half-smile. “How is our Moon Goddess? Still enchanting unfortunate souls to do her bidding?” She looked sidelong at Alethea through salt-glittered lashes, as if she too found Jasmine to be just as endearing as she was terrifying.

When Alethea did not reply, Rosemary puckered her velvet lips and continued, understanding laced through her words.

“Thank you for your offering. You have questions; I have answers.”

Holding the Siren's gaze for a moment, Alethea simply nodded before glancing at the glimmering waves laden with herbs and flowers. At the sight, a hot scream rang between her ears, and she let loose a frustrated, choking sigh, shaking her head as though to muffle the sound.

Rosemary wove close to Alethea once more before gently taking her trembling hands.

“You are safe, Alethea. Here, glittering tides cradle memory and myth. Possibility and hope. I can help you find the peace you crave.”

Alethea looked into Rosemary's swirling ocean-blue eyes and said, “I did not ask for this.”

To which the Siren simply replied, “No. You did not.”

Alethea could feel the rage creeping into every breath. “Why me and not them?”

Rosemary drifted silently, her tail absentmindedly swishing through herbs and water.

“The Great Mother can save her own magic-wielding creatures from the underworld, but once the line between life and death is crossed, there is nothing that can be done. Death is certain for all mortals without the touch of a goddess or spirit.” She dramatically swished her star-studded hands through the air. “Sacred transformation by rule of two to bypass wicked intent. However...” The air fell thick around them. “Even then, none are above corruption, for one sorcerer, Solaire, with a knack for spellbinding jewellery and chalices, regrettably walks free from the fear of death.” Her ethereal voice climbed. “Wicked and twisted! He stays far from my waters!” The siren fell silent, her face flushed with regret.

Alethea had heard of the monster and understood then that Rosemary may have played a role in his inception. Remembering to whom she spoke, the goddess filled her voice once more with a starlight calm before finishing, “A sorceress, too, are you not?”

Yes, Alethea was a witch, until yesterday belonging to a coven of women living peacefully in seclusion. An entire village of women: witches, healers, doctors, and potion makers. Alethea had always felt an affinity for flowers, herbs, and warm, healing brews.

Flame passed through her mind's eye, and the smell of charred skin rolled into the air. Alethea's blood felt as though it might boil over as she felt the ghostly pain around her neck yet again.

Her temper rising, Alethea disregarded the Siren's question.

“Do I have a choice?”

Rosemary cocked her head to the side, her amused smile returning.

“Always. I can make you forget. I can strip you of every memory, every achievement, and calm the flames that dance behind your violet eyes. I can siphon the goddesses' gifts of power over water and flower... They will roll upon the waves into the Labyrinth of Possibility below. Your immortality will be forfeit, and you will die in your own time. However, with or without your memories, I cannot strip you of the magic you were born with. You will gravitate towards your herbal talents inevitably.”

Alethea looked down at her moonlit hands, dusted with yet more pestering rosemary flowers. Her frustration had reached its limit. She had not known about the goddesses' gifts. Gifts of pity, she thought. The witch's maddening essence reverberated through the air, but something about those ocean eyes, waiting for her next quarry, steadied her spirit.

“What would you do?”

“A lifetime without realising one's true potential is a fate I would wish on no being. But solace may come from tending to the earth, creating from the gentle tug of magic, even if it is never fully realised or perfected through the ages. A slow and quiet life it would be,” she said, reaching for one of her chocolatey, herbaceous braids, “but a lonely one nonetheless.”

Visions of her sisters laughing as they ran through the woods swept through her heart, and the sweet sound of her mother's voice calling them home sent tears rushing to the corners of Alethea's eyes.

“I have nothing left,” she choked.

Rosemary looked to the bundles and branches swaying with the tide.

“Many have suffered worse.”

At those words, Alethea's pain and memories bled into the wide-open sea air.

Rosemary's bioluminescent tail sent wave after herbal wave into Alethea's core as remembrance of heartbreaks past infused with the brine.

Paralysed by the Restless Shadow's magic, Alethea watched helplessly from her place within her sacred orchard as a man consumed by shadow set her village ablaze.

The magic of the grove had protected against flame and given her strength enough to break the chains. But by then, the women's screams had faded.

Alethea fled into the thicket of darkening trees.

But too slow.

The man's large hands quickly found their mark as she fell.

Shadowed, burning eyes gazed into her own as the darkness came, man and shadow simply content with snuffing out a little more light from the world.

Alethea welcomed the muffled sound of her own terror as Rosemary pulled her below.

Crisp, salty night air caressed Alethea's face as the sorrow ebbed. The Siren had taken her out to the open sea. They lay hand in hand, floating like otters upon the glossy, dark water. Silent for a long while, the swish of Rosemary's tail the only sound.

Alethea gently glanced to where their hands lay, the sea goddess's thumb softly caressing hers. She took a shaky breath.

“I couldn't save them.”

Rosemary looked up at the stark white moon above.

“No. You couldn't.”

She paused for a moment before continuing.

“But you can save many more.”

A broken sound escaped Alethea's throat as she choked back more relentless tears.

Silence fell once again as both eternal creatures bathed in moonlight before the Siren said,

“Tell me of them.”

So Alethea did.

Laughter and grief swirled with the tide as she recounted every beautifully heartbreaking memory shared with her coven. The Siren asked questions occasionally, as though she were taking notes for a book she would one day publish.

Alethea told tales of her sisters' wild, star-crossed lovers. Her mother's rosemary bracelet and matching herbal necklace, which she had worn to ensure her mind remained forever clear. She told the goddess of her spirit-blessed orchard, with lemon trees, wildflowers, and bushes from faraway, exotic lands.

Gentle waves lulled Alethea's spirit as she drifted to sleep in Rosemary's sunrise-stricken arms.

Tucked beneath the shade of a large rock, Alethea awoke upon a bed of soft seaweed to the gentle cries of seagulls circling the surf. She pushed herself upright, losing her breath as she saw a rolled parchment in a bottle leaning against the boulder, two braided rosemary bracelets dangling around its neck.

With sand peppered hands, Alethea uncorked the ancient-looking glass. The message read:

"May she forever guide you to enchanted shores."

The witch smiled as the familiar herbal breeze enveloped her senses.

to her once-happy home and laid one bracelet upon her mother's new resting place after tying an invisible connection cord around her own wrist. Wholesome, light, gentle magic—the likes of which her loved ones had wielded without a care—a compass around her wrist, always. The witch would, indeed, go on to save many more. Her tales cradled within the Sirens' knowing Labyrinth.

For Rosemary, Alethea created a calming, warm, herbaceous citrus brew. Fresh leaves and fruit peels cut straight from her untouched orchard, which the Siren profusely refused over and over again, claiming she'd rather the earthly herbs swim alongside her. The Siren finally drank from Alethea's cup one starry night, but only after Alethea had officially named the brew after the sea goddess herself.

We drink Rosemary Waves now in their honour. For gentle days filled with calm, clarity, and magic.

May you swim in Rosemary's Waves and forever find enchanted shores.

Until the next story unfolds,

Yours in tea & tales,

Lauren of Faerie Good