Isiren
“Isiren! Sayth?!” Spiral yelled. She recognized it all: Phallun’s right hand woman. The Yopannagayne, the divine scepter Sellaya constructed with the power to change reality in her hands. The nightmares Phallun had lead against the resistance. All of her past stood readily before her.
“Sayth!” Spiral yelled again. She tried the com but nothing could get through the electromagnetic interference. She had no sylver, she couldn’t transform or use her signature energies! What could she do?!
“I had everything! The power, prestige! I was third in line to becoming the most powerful being in the universe! But you, you stripped it from me, you and Maggilike! I hate you! Now look at me; a war criminal. Scrounging for scraps like some mangy hound! I have nothing ahead of me! Nothing to gain, nothing to lose. So consider this a performance of pure unfettered vengeance, nothing less, nothing more. I finally found you,” Isiren spoke. Although cracked and gushing schmic energy, the Yopannagayne had granted her immense power. A distorted aura of shadow cracked around her and danced in the pale light.
“Sayth!” Spiral screamed but to no avail. No one could hear her. She attempted to start the hovercraft but Isiren tore it apart in a singe note from her scowling lips. Spiral toppled to the ground.
The nightmares circled around her, squawking and growling madly like blood starved beasts. Isiren closed in.
“You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman, would you?” Spiral asked desperately, to which Isiren cackled. She raised her scepter-
But a shadow bolted across the field like black lightning. In an instant all the nightmares collapsed into bloody ribbons and Sayth stood furiously between Spiral and Isiren. “Stay away from my wife!”
A wicket grin flashed across Isiren’s face and she snapped her fingers. The world fell dark except for a mysterious spotlight casting her front and center from nowhere in the sky. The Yopannagayne transformed into a golden microphone and she grasped it with both hands.
She began to sing and how she could sing! A siren’s voice is a marvel most human performers could only dream of. As she sung her heart and very passion were made flesh by the scepter. A stage play of monstrous demons looking very much like props stitched together from fabric. Their teeth and claws were real though, deadly so.
Sayth battled his way through the hoard as she preformed. Every so often she would stamp her foot and a giant stiletto boot would manifest out of the air in an attempt to crush him. Her song flowed as follows:
“Honey drips like memory, hatred spreads as sauce. All the painful seasonings, all the tragic loss. The scrupulous divinity has simmered into smoke. That which remains all tastes the same, the succulent, the joke.
Times of tearful spices, wicked flows like wine. The delicate little crises tiptoe to the garnished crime. It’s a basted in retribution, a banquet of decay, a savory solution, the entrée’s on its way.
Every detail tidily folded in the crust. The soufflé is rising mightily, the fusilli’s beyond trust. The malice leaches far and wide and drifts on the bouquet. They say revenge is best served cold but I’ll have it my way.
The final course is falling as the waiter waits dessert. The final curtain’s calling and this one’s meant to hurt. The decadence, the lavishly-”
But her song was cut short as Sayth broke through. Again and again, he unrelentingly slashed at her with his tailblade. Isiren was forced to wield the Yopannagayne in defense, sending cracks of schismed light through it, which in turn shattered her conjurings. She formed her weapon into a rapier but was no match for Sayth’s savage might and ferocity. He sent he careening across the fleshy soil and dove upon her. She tried to summon more monsters but he granted no respite. The best she could do was form a force field around herself but that too cracked and shattered. Within seconds she abandoned the fight and dissipated into a pulse of light.
“Awww, I would have liked to hear the performance's end,” Alouve moaned as she had been drawn by the commotion.
“Dinner and a show. You have to hand it to Isiren: she does everything classy, doesn’t she?” Sayth commented.
“She had just attempted to slaughter me,” Spiral reminded them.
-A Deck Of Fates
Isiren (right) is a minor antagonist in Rainbows Wane, The Gatekeeper and A Deck Of Fates. She's a siren and the right hand attendant of Phallun. Sirens in the universe of signature are a race of entirely women with the ability to detach their mouths and place them on various objects. Isiren wears her mouth on a scarf. In addition to this they have tremendous command over sound to the point of solidifying into into bricks or even weapons.
She is fiercely loyal to Phallun and professional to a fault, quite in contrast to the performer and singer nature of most of her race. Despite rarely participating in active combat or duties, she is one of the most skilled swordswomen of TriCora. The hilt of her rapier is actually a microphone. When battling Magilike and Spiral she creates sonic dragons from an operettic style of singing to aid her. Because of past interactions she holds a bitter grudge against Spiral yet, despite this, maintains her professionalism when in the service of Phallun.