The young girl Gwyneth separated from the crowd for some reason and came to a sparsely populated island to live in an isolated lighthouse.
That day, the tide of the Black Sea swept in. The huge waves lifted up the second moon, and a ghostly figure crawled into the lighthouse...
"The black sea water gave birth to the black race, and the rolling waves brought the songs of the sirens."
"The sailors who came from a long voyage could not escape the temptation of the sirens and landed on this land, sowing the seeds of civilization."
The legendary Siren from Modora broke into her world like this.
A short story about moors, coasts, bagpipes, moonstones and monsters.
Intention: Accept your own incompatibility, even if you fail, failure is beautiful.
