Despite the way he carries himself with poise and grace, Alon is demure and awkward at times. Before his capture he spent most of his life alone, and hundreds of years later it still shows: he usually can’t hold a conversation to save his life, and any sign that he knows what he’s doing during social situations is a facade carefully constructed by his keeper.

He wishes dearly to make real friends, but knows that such a thing is next to impossible while underneath the watchful eye of the demon he serves. Although Alon’s countenance is typically glum, as are the songs he sings, he believes there is a chance for him to create his own happiness and struggles to find the means to do so. He tries to see the good in the people he’s allowed to talk to without supervision, although this is rare. He doesn’t talk much, so if he tries to continue a conversation with someone it means he genuinely likes them.

Alon is made out to be defenseless and in need of protection, but this too is an appearance that has been crafted by his keeper. After living alone for so long, he is more than capable of taking care of himself and defending himself with the magical tools he’s been given...however, self-defense often goes against the rules that have been imposed on him, especially when it involves anything that isn’t his voice.

When Alon cries, his tears are genuine: he cries from memories of his lost love, and he cries because of his helplessness at the hands of his demon lord. Still, he holds onto hope that one day he will be free and reunited with the man he misses the most.

Neither human nor divine, Alon has spent the beginnings of his life teetering on the fine line between mundane and unusual. Though he wasn’t human, he felt and lived as humans did. If he was sad he would cry, and if he was hungry he would eat. He would get sick. He would grow old and die. But...he was fine with death; Alon spent much of his early days silent and alone, and dying would be his break from it all. His silence came not willingly, but out of necessity: he had the unique ability to bewitch people with his voice and, untrained as he was, it happened often. Often enough to draw the kinds of trouble that Alon didn’t want to deal with. So he moved to a less populated area and became a recluse, and blessedly, the problems that came because of his voice would become sparse for a time.

But of course, things would not be quiet for him forever.

Beginning of the End

A tsunami had ravaged the coastline.

High above in his cliffside home, Alon was safe. The beach below him was not, and after seeing the destruction the tsunami left in its wake, he decided to assess the damage that had been done. Sifting through the debris on the beach, he had expected marine life washed ashore. He did not expect a ship dashed against the rocks, and a sailor passed out yards away.

The situation looked grave. Alon didn’t know how long the man had been washed ashore, but he was cold and his chest barely moved. Thinking there was nothing to do but wait for him to perish and bury him, Alon sang for him. A song of loss and forgiveness for whatever sins this stranger might have committed, so that he could move on to a more peaceful existence. It was the least he could do for this sorry soul.

And he was rewarded with a kiss.

“Do all angels sing as prettily as you?”

His name was Yusuf, and he was the sole survivor of the shipwreck. Alon took him home to see to any of his injuries and nurse him back to health.

At first, Yusuf’s comments confused him. Even when Alon didn’t sing, Yusuf still showered him with praise about anything and everything; from his appearance, to his kindness, to his home and his cooking. Alon had never been given so much positive attention, and at first it scared him. He didn’t know if it was genuine or a result of his voice and its powers, so for the first few days he would say nothing. Yusuf, however, still persisted. Days turned into weeks, and soon they became months, and in this time Alon’s confusion melted away; it became neutrality, then contentment. Infatuation, then adoration. Soon, Alon came to love as humans did, too.

Saudade

For the first few years, Yusuf was content to stay by Alon’s side. They were happy with one another, and Alon enjoyed a domesticity he never thought was possible before. But...as time passed, he could see his lover begin to change. He was restless, anxious, and would awake in a cold sweat with no explanation as to why. Alon chalked it up to wanderlust; Yusuf was a sailor, and traveling the world was probably the best for him. It was only a matter of time before he began to crave his freedom again, and Alon would not deprive him of his other love. Yusuf swore that was not it— that nothing but death could separate them, and he would not stray from Alon’s side. His promises only made what was to come worse.

Alon awoke one day to a note.

The sea, she plagues my thoughts and dreams. I swore to you I would stay, but I fear I must go. I am afraid. Only the waves will bring me salvation.

He wept, and he sang.

Marchosias

The war between Heaven and Hell was well underway by the time Yusuf left, although Alon didn’t think to connect the two beyond fear of the war on Yusuf’s behalf. What could a demonic or heavenly entity do with a sailor? He was harmless, but there was a danger that lurked in Alon’s home— a powerful weapon that could be used to turn the tides of war if used by someone ambitious. That weapon was Alon’s voice, of course.

In his grief, Alon sang for days on end in the selfish hopes of luring his love back to him and away from the seduction of the sea. But in his vain efforts, only angels, demons, and lost humans came to him. And the angels and demons knew upon hearing him: this lonesome thing would win them the battle— maybe even the war itself. Plans would begin to be made in secret.

Months later, Alon would meet the proprietor of The Siren Song. But Romantis did not exist at that point in time, and the proprietor wasn’t a proprietor, but a marquis of hell. This demon was looking for any way possible to lay waste to the angelic army situated on the island, and he found Alon shortly before Yusuf left, far before any other angels or demons did. His melodic voice was bewitching, and the demon knew it would be all he needed to quash their enemies. Thus came the demon’s plan to bring Alon under his control: he would kill Yusuf, lay claim to his soul, and fake his departure. Desperate, Alon would not pass up the opportunity to reunite with his lost love if the opportunity was offered to him. And it was in an unorthodox way, when the demon showed up.

“How long will he travel before his wanderlust is sated? You will wither and die of your sorrow before he comes back; he will only speak of you when nostalgia takes him. I offer you a chance for your souls to be reunited, in this life, the next, and all others to come…”

Such an offer was too good to be true, but Alon was sick with love and would do anything to have Yusuf back. He asked the demon, “What are your terms?,” and the demon smiled.

“You will swear fealty to me until my goals have been met. Speak my name to accept my terms and receive what you desire, but know there is no turning back once you do.”

“Tell me. What is your name?”

The Siren Song

It has been hundreds of years since Alon has come to know deceit by the demon’s hands, and he can no longer speak his name. Unable to go against the commands of his new keeper, Alon has entranced angels, seen armies fall, and subjugated defenseless humans— all for the sake of a demon who was never satisfied. He could not die under this contract, and his keeper’s goals would never be met, ambitious as he was. But Yusuf’s soul was still out there; it had to be, in order for this contract to still hold weight. So Alon continued to weep for him, and sing of him— of a love lost at sea, begging for him to come back.

The angels have lost their holy war and demons have come out victorious.

In this new era of the world, demons exist with humans in what few cities remain, called oasis cities. Romantis was the wealthy and privileged city of the arts, and what little nobility remained in the world had taken refuge within the city’s golden walls. It was a worthy place to settle down, thought Alon’s keeper, and start a new chapter of ambitiousness. There were always reasons to control people, after all.

So Alon continues to sing.

Alon is not his real name. It was one “gift” of many given to him by his keeper before he was taken from his old home. The name has some irony to it: while Alon is a Hebrew name, it also means wave in his mother tongue, referring to the waves of the sea.

His cape is indeed magical; though it flows into water at its ends it never leaves a trail behind it. What puddles form on the ground will quickly follow him and rejoin his cape should he begin to walk away from its place.

Alon has a secret love of junk food, especially anything that’s been deep fried...pork rinds and plantain chips are his favorites, although his keeper has deemed them too “unsightly” for him to eat in the public eye. Rest assured, his glamorous bedroom has many hiding places for his plethora of snacks.

Alon likes junk food, but it does not sustain him. When he’s hungry he can eat it, and he can enjoy its taste out of leisure, but due to the curse put upon him the only thing that will actually sustain him is blood.

Although he does dislike most of what his keeper has done to “shape” him, Alon does like the clothes he’s made to wear. He has an affinity for fine accessories and elaborate outfits.

The paddle he carries is a magical device whose main function is that of a microphone, enhancing his voice for his audience. He also uses it to row his favorite gondola in the opera house! Even though he gets funny looks when he does so. Can’t let a good thing go to waste!

The opera house's design is one of Alon’s wants that were actually fulfilled. Stepping into the opera house, you get the feeling of stepping outside: it's bright as daylight and pleasantly warm, and the hint of the sea is always in the air. The setup makes it appear as if it’s an island retreat, and its sheer amount of water fixtures could rival the volume of a medium-sized lake.