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Hospitals.
In one room, life is given. In another, it is taken. One patient is screaming because they just tore their body apart to welcome a little one into the world. Now, their babe is laying on their chest while they cry warm tears. In the room across the hall, a second patient is crying out because their beloved just took their last breath. Now, they can hear the soul leave their darling's body while they tremble from fear of continuing lonely.
On one floor, men are coming in from battle, and their fingers drip red, though they laugh their pain away. Has war made them mad or desperate? On the floor above, shivering bodies are being kept alive with needles, machines, and another's blood. Has suffering slaughtered their desire to live?
Life, for most, is a horrible rollercoaster leading to the afterlife. Love, work, and entertainments are all distractions so that you will not pay attention to the clock ticking way to your end; losses, hurt, and wounds are all reminders of your last dying breath. You spend your life focusing on the ocean, but sometimes you need to be reminded of the salt in it.
Darya Swan loved the rollercoaster of life with all her heart. She cherished every drop of water just as much as every pinch of the salt. A poem it all was, and she didn't mind if the poet was to drown when they had finished writing it.
For her, death was familiar; there was a reason why her whole family spent their time in hospitals. It was the same reason why the Swans were famous in the Wizarding World. The surname was written in too many books than one could read - it had been ever since the Swans had been forced to leave their home country a hundred years ago.
It was now June 1979. St. Mungo's Hospital was filled with patients. Darya had put on the white dress that nurses wore. She wiped her palms on the hem of it and took a deep breath. Then, she entered the room with the yellow door on floor three.
She wasn't supposed to have favorite patients at the hospital, but little Amalia had crept her way into her heart. Because of her Down syndrome, she was staying at the hospital for a check-up. When Darya walked into the room, her face lit up.
"Good morning, daisy," she mumbled to Darya, reaching to rub her eye, forgetting that she was holding her doll. It lived in her hands - who could blame her for forgetting it was not part of her?
Darya reached to pick it up. When she tried to return it to its owner, Amalia reached her short arms around her and pulled her into a hug.
"Good morning, angel. Want to help me with today's rounds?"
Darya had various patients, but she still remembered each of their names and stories. Her mother, grandmother, older sister, and aunts had many more patients, though. It wasn't because Darya was young and weak that she had less, but because she wasn't able to fully use her healing powers yet.
Many generations ago, when her family had still lived in Greece, a curse had been placed upon her bloodline. Because of this curse, the Swan women had become deadly Sirens. Darya's grandmother spent her life learning how to use the power for good, and now she was teaching the rest of the family it all. However, Swans still have to suffer for what they are: every man who has ever fallen in love with a Swan has died a violent death. Not a man who has married into the family has managed to grow old and died of natural causes.
