"𝕭𝖊𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖓."

⁜※⁜

The dark waves rolled along the glassy ocean surface, lit up only by the various fires on the deck. The wind ripped violently at their tendrils, but the flames held strong, illuminating the expanse in front of us. That very wind tugged at my exposed fringe, weakened by the protection of the cabin walls I stood next to. Soon, I would retire to its interior and sleep until the star-filled night gave way to day.

"Bit late, lass, eh?" The voice that spoke was deep, its bearer's heavy footsteps already alerting me of its presence. Large, muscled arms braced on the railing, a lantern caressed in giant hands. "Aren't ya cold?"

I pulled my coat tighter around me as the wind pulled at its ends and made sure my beanie was still firmly on my head. "Shouldn't you be working, sailor?"

"Aye, I'm on break. What's the matter? Too rancid for ya?" He lifted one of his arms to his face and sniffed loudly. "Eugh, that does have a bit of a stench to it." He laughed loudly, tipping his head back. "Ya get used to it after years as a sailor. The salty brine of the ocean, the pungent smell of dead fish—it all disappears."

I lifted my gaze from the black ocean to the sailor. He'd always been kind to me, to which I was grateful—but I was only here to catch ship to Ithaca from the mainland. A young lady didn't belong on a rowdy sailor's boat. So they said.

A tattoo on his broad arm caught my eye, shining in the fire's light. "What's that?" I asked as I tapped it.

He brushed a broad hand over it. "That, young lass, is a siren." His voice darkened. "They roam the oceans, singing their damning songs filled with promises of our most powerful desires, waiting for people like us to fall victim." He nodded his head towards the cabin. "That's why we keep beeswax in with our medicine, ya see."

"I know what a siren is."

He laughed heartily, seemingly joyful at having found someone who could talk about the ocean with him. "Of course! My mistake. Everyone knows to be careful while on the waters, hey?" He turned back to the water, as if the conversation had reminded him of what lurked beneath the depths.

"How come sirens are only women?" I asked.

The sailor looked back at me, slightly surprised by my question—but also intrigued by my curiosity. "What?"

"I mean, there's no such thing as a male siren?"

He chuckled to himself. "Supposedly, they faded out of legend over the course of the years. Maybe the scholars realised they didn't exist." There was a twinkle in his eyes as he added with a low murmur, "Doesn't mean they've denied the existence of the King, though."

I blinked. "King?"

The sailor nodded. "Most people believe sirens are all female, you see—and they're sort of right. But some old scholars believe that this King managed to branch off from the tritons somehow. There are hordes of these siren counterparts lurking in the waters, but none as powerful as this fabled King. Sirens and tritons aren't myths, ya know. But him? Eyewitnesses are hard to find. Living ones, that is. No one knows if he truly exists."

"Where would you find him?"

His almost animated, lively intrigued expression faded as I posed the question. His voice lowered, "Somewhere out there in the deep ocean is his sacred dominion. No one knows where; no one's gone to look for it."

Curious. "What do you think... he would sound like?"

The sailor shook his head. "Dunno, lass. Never seem 'im. And I'd be lucky not to." I clicked my tongue and turned away back to the ocean. The sailor placed a large hand on my head as he made to leave. "Better off not indulging that curiosity of yours when you've got an audience with the King of Ithaca instead, hey? Don't need two kings."

I sighed through my exhale, resting my chin on my arms as the immediate light from the sailor's lantern left with him. The wind had begun to ease up—but the stars that shone up above twinkled in gentle reminder that it was time for me to rest. I turned from the railing, watching the dimly lit empty deck as if something would entertain me for just a little while longer—but it seemed the universe had no interest in keeping me active while at sea. A lady belongs on land, far from the dangers of the ocean. So they said—and so I've done.

I was about to walk towards the cabin when a sound stopped me: a low humming sound that skittered above the water's surface, conjuring luminescence that glowed an ethereal blue. Like a sea dragon, the luminescence circled the ship, skirting along the hull's edge as I raced back to the railing to watch it. It soon disappeared along with the sound as it reached the back of the ship, and I lifted my head from the pristine waters to the bow. Where the sound had come from.

Beyond.

Slowly, I walked towards the front of the boat, climbing to the upper deck and facing the full brunt of the wind, cold and salty. I breathed it in deeply, closing my eyes as I let it consume me—let it draw me towards the boat's edge. I felt my fingers wrap around the banister's biting rusty metal surface, the ocean spray pattering on top.

And I heard that low humming once again, deep and rumbling like a core. A heart. The ocean's heart. And it was breathing and it was alive and it—

Get in the water. I blinked at the command as my own body was drawn towards the waves, my strongest and perhaps most detrimental desire formulating in the front of my mind.

"I want it..." I murmured into the stillness, feeling myself slowly climb onto the railing. The words hung in the air, ringing like a chime, summoning. I held tightly to one of the flagpoles that adorned the front of the boat, boasting about the land kingdom of Achaea.

But why would someone promote the misgivings of the land... when true beauty existed beneath the waves?

I watched as a circle of glowing blue formed in front of the boat, the waters receding momentarily into it, before a figure rose out of the water, bathed in the light from the luminescence. He stared at me, eyes as deep and mysterious as the unexplored ocean floors. He reached out a hand towards me, pale arms fading into dark blue pointed scales. And yet the claws weren't threatening. More... protective. He beckoned me forwards, and I felt my arms inclined to move—my hands needing to wrap around his.

But I hesitated, my fingers hovering just inches above his scaled figure. I lifted my gaze to meet his soulful violet eyes, now filled with worry at my reluctance. A thought tugged at my hand, holding it in place. You know what he is. He's a dangerous siren. But what was so dangerous about that pure sincere gaze?

"Sirens throw themselves to Death when their calls are ignored, right?"

He didn't answer my question, his eyes only brightening as he heard my voice for the first time.

Faintly, I heard shouts behind me as all flames on the ship were lit. Sailors cried out in terror: "Siren! Siren near the ship!" Heavy footsteps sounded as they neared the bow, others racing into and out of the hold with beeswax and weapons. The siren in front of me squinted his eyes as the sudden light flooded his vision—but I took no note of my surroundings, enraptured and captivated by the male in front of me.

My hand slid into his, so small and soft in his large scaly palm. "How could I make you do that?"

⁜※⁜

I awoke to the gentle sound of water skipping, melodic in its movement as it traversed its terrain. My eyes opened to the sight of blue—deep azure blue as far as the eye could see. For a moment, my eyes remained transfixed on it, the colour overwhelming my vision. It was only when I heard a small shuffling sound nearby that I turned my head.

Familiar wisps of white hair travelled down the length of a dark midnight blue robe, reaching the sand-coated floor. The tall figure tinkered with something out of view, and I racked my brain for who this person was and how I had gotten here. Then—

"Siren..." The word left my lips without my realising until I heard it hanging in the air, instantly raising the tension. The siren stopped. My senses immediately became alerted to danger and I whisked my head around, taking in my surroundings for a potential escape route.

But there was none. I was surrounded by ruins that reached for and faded into the blue, submerged in water on all sides. I was trapped, alone with a monster.

I quickly slipped off the bed, soft and comfortable as it was, and stood on my unsteady feet. "You... What do you want with me?" I managed. Still, the siren didn't move. "Answer me!" I yelled, though I shouldn't have, Death standing just metres away. "Why did you bring me here?"

Slowly, the siren turned—and it was then I noted the creature had feet, not twin tails. I was confused—and only grew more perplexed as I saw a man's face on the siren's body. I vaguely remembered a voice telling me about the existence of tritons—and of an entity far more deadly. I stared at him questioningly, waiting.

"Is that not what you wanted?" he answered. His voice was deep and thick, gentle and calm, like honey. His movements were as smooth as the motion of a stream and as elegant and majestic as a river. And as I stared into those profound eyes of his once again, I saw the living embodiment of water.

It was then I knew for certain his identity: the King of the Sirens.

"I didn't ask to be trapped down here," I said carefully, hand laid still on the bed as if touching something would give me protection. He was willing to talk and I hadn't died yet.

"Trapped?" The siren looked around us, at the water surrounding the area. Something soft and strangely sorrowful entered his eyes. "Do the waters not offer more freedom than the Overworld?"

I looked up where he was looking, seeing no way out. We were so far beneath the surface, hidden on the deep seafloor. I looked at his simple gaze again—and he seemed sincere. Yet I was unable to fully grasp what he meant. He seemed to read that in my eyes and he thought to himself, fingers drumming elegantly on the desk behind him.

Something glistened in his eyes as he came to a realisation. "Is it because humans cannot hold their breath underwater that you feel unsafe?"

I stared at him, almost in incredulity. Despite his seeming kindness and sincerity, I reminded myself that this male was still a monster. They were never as innocent as would first seem.

So I clenched my fist and righted my defensive posture, lifting my chin and speaking in an assured voice, "I have an audience with the King of Ithaca!" A stillness overcame the supposedly impossible myth of a male siren. And a smile crept over my face, something sly and cocky. "Don't think he will take kindly to my being kidnapped, monster!"

The words—especially the name—seemed like a blow to him. Something soft and gentle ruptured in those eyes of his, and it was as if the thunder clouds had broken apart to release the deluge building within. The ocean around us appeared to stir, the walls of water quivering.

He was... hurt.

Why was I sympathetic? How could I feel sorry for someone—something—like him?

I shook it off. I had to escape somehow—and if that meant swimming right up to the surface, then so be it. I stared at him for a moment longer—and then dashed to the walls, diving through. They were not solid, I saw with relief as water pushed lightly against me on all sides. I knew that I was as good as dead—but I would rather drown or die on my own terms than be eaten by a siren.

And maybe... just maybe... the gods would be on my side, for once, and let me escape.

But the blue shades didn't turn any lighter as I scraped my way to the surface. A fuzzy black began to outline my vision, and I realised that all too soon, I had reached my limit.

My mouth opened in silent cry as bubbles skipped free to the surface, beseeching Poseidon himself to rescue me. But what god truly cared about the trivial affairs of mortal man? My muscles began to burn, and I reached for the dim light that must have been faraway daylight.

I was stupid. Mother must be truly disappointed in me... for what fair lady would engage in such foolishness with no contingency?

It was then I felt a presence and saw a dark figure rising out of the depths, and for a moment of terror, I realised the King of Sirens had found me. But as his eyes met mine as he came to my side, I saw no cruelty nor lust nor hunger for my body. Just... kindness. His arms cradled me gently, and part of me wished I hadn't left so hastily—hadn't judged him so quickly. Because no matter how fast a siren or triton was underwater, I was out of air—

I stiffened as his face neared mine, instinctively fearful, blue antennae trailing in the water like ribbons. Yet, I found my hands bracing against his shoulders, again bare and adorned in iridescent scales. His lips parted, and bubbles formed, clumping together to create an air pocket just large enough for me to gasp before it rose to the surface, racing for that tinted sunlight.

Before I had finished gazing at the mesmerising view above me as the black was chased away from my vision, the siren grabbed me and swam, twin tails pushing him through the water with such ease it was as if there was no water there at all. As if we were flying.

We burst through the walls of water, and I watched as he angled his body so as to catch himself as his tails morphed into legs. My astounded questions caught in my throat, amazed by the very thought that this could possibly exist.

I met his eyes then as he put me down, and I remembered just how beautiful they were—how enraptured I had been the night before. How they had lured me—captured me—allowing him to bring me here to these unrecognisable depths.

Another thought crossed my mind at that as it finally settled, casting fear aside. "Are you... really a siren?"

"Of course. What makes you doubt so?"

I pointed at his feet. "For starters, you have legs. Is this some... spell of some sort?" The siren shook his head—though he didn't provide further answer. Fine. "Second, you haven't killed me and eaten me yet. You even saved me..." I looked back at his almost innocent face. "That song... that deep humming... That was your call, wasn't it? To me. You weren't luring me in to kill me?"

"Why would I do that?"

I nearly scoffed. "Because you're a siren—a monster. That's what you creatures do."

Almost immediately, I regretted calling him that. I knew by now that he could not be called by such labels—and yet all the work I had put into studying these creatures was permanently branded into my brain, making it hard to let these prejudices go.

His gaze averted, turning downcast, and I saw flecks of sadness within his eyes. Something about that gesture made me reach forward, though I stopped myself just short of his delicate face, unblemished skin gleaming in the ocean-filtered light.

He was so... perfect.

I cleared my throat, my hand retracting though he followed its movement with his eyes. "What is your name, siren?"

"Neuvillette," he answered in a soft yet refined tone.

I raised my brows. "That's not a name from here."

"Neither is my origin, my lady."

Right. So I recalled. "Well, Neuvillette... I am in your debt."

His eyes seemed to brighten upon hearing his name come from my mouth and he shook his head. "I brought you here without your consent. It is only right I keep you safe." He turned from me and walked back towards the desk at the other end of the area. "Sit," he instructed, and I did so, walking back towards the soft bed clad in a giant shell frame, pillows shaped like iridescent pearls gathered near the head.

The strange, silky blankets reached for those pearls like the waves that ebbed and flowed along the shore, as if in imitation of how sleep washed away all thoughts to leave a calm, blank mind. I flopped backwards onto the sheets, casting my eyes to the deep azure above. The dark underbellies of schools of fish coasted by, dividing weak shafts of sunlight so they reflected off in fractal patterns.

It was quiet. Peaceful. Though it was the adventure that had drawn me to the sea, some small, noble part of me felt pleasure in seeing the ocean's natural beauty. A hand then brushed against my forehead, causing me to blink in surprise as white gloves swept my fringe away. The gentle hand remained on my head. "Are you ill?"

I found myself smiling at Neuvillette's voice—the almost innocent sincerity in his concern. I lifted his hand as I sat up, continuing to hold it. "Not at all. Just enjoying the view."

He nodded, glad and slightly relieved. He sat, placing a silver tray carefully on the bed between us, tea the hue of corals in delicate cups balanced on top, carved to mimic the movement of ocean foam. He gestured towards the tea, to which I reached gingerly towards, savouring the warm ceramic in my hands. I sipped quietly. The tea seemed awfully watery, even for black tea, but there was a light flavour that I could only describe as refreshing.

After a moment, I asked, "How did you learn to do that, Neuvillette?"

"Do what?" he questioned.

"That—that thing you did with the air!"

"Ah..." he sighed, as if already having forgotten the very action that had saved my life. "That is a technique that hails from the northern waters. I learned it from the baikal seals."

I cocked my head slightly, unfamiliar with the species. I wanted him to keep explaining, but he seemed content simply looking at me, and I was unsure how to continue the conversation. My cheeks puffed out slightly as my foot swung idly, my gaze averting.

At that, he seemed to understand. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asked as he shifted over to give me some more space. I was about to deny that when he cut me off, "Forgive me. I am unfamiliar with social cues."

I giggled slightly, but not rudely—then saw this as an opportunity to inquire more about his past. "What about your family? Friends? Don't you talk to other sirens? You're supposed to live in packs."

There was a slight shift in the air as I posed my question—a sense of wistfulness. "I am the last remaining survivor of a clan of tritons that congregated in the eastern waters hundreds of years ago. There were seven of us in total, all incredibly powerful—though my power is but a fraction of what it once was."

So the "King of Sirens" was simply a myth after all... He was no king... but he remained noble in my eyes. Curiosity drove me to ask, "What happened?"

Neuvillette raised his gaze to the ocean—and to the sky beyond. "The gods. They defeated us." He looked back at me and saw pity on my face. At that, he smiled slightly in comfort. "I no longer feel pain or sadness on behalf of my fallen brethren, so please, do not pity them."

I nodded. "Don't you miss them? Aren't you... lonely?"

His eyes widened a little at the thought. "Why would I be lonely?"

"You're here all by yourself. Isn't that... sad?"

He shook his head. "Those are mortal thoughts. The waters are companionship enough." He seemed to pause for a moment as he looked at me. "Besides... aren't you here to stay?"

Oh...

Neuvillette read the feelings written clearly on my face and frowned. "I see... So... you were not wishing to leave the Overworld?"

"What do you mean?"

He gestured around us—and the ocean seemed to grow more vibrant at his movement. "The waters heard your thoughts and conveyed them to me. I had never heard such longing from a human