The door to the Captain’s chambers creaked as it opened and the Captain looked up from his desk. In the doorway stood a wet and sea torn Alvar Avery.
“Sit,” The Captain said and Alvar took a seat across the desk from his Captain. He silently poured Alvar a glass of whiskey and handed to him. Alvar took it with his good arm and took a sip of it.
“They were curious of me,” Alvar began. “They did not harm me until they saw the tattoo.”
“Many do not like what we make you,” The Captain said as he drank his own whiskey. “But for sirens not to kill. It is against their nature. I believe that they may have seen in you, a connection with the sea that not even they know. As for you seeing your sister, this I cannot say. Dark things, dark visions can enter a man’s mind in the depths of the sea.”
“You talk like you know the feeling Captain.”
“A sea serpent, but the experience was just as frightening as yours.”
“I was at peace Captain. I would have happily died down there, but when the siren saw this tattoo I was filled with fear.”
“And that is when they attacked you?”
“Yes, Captain. But they only attacked my arm.”
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“That is the only part of you that doesn’t belong in the ocean. Were they trying to remove it?” The Captain asked inquisitively. Alvar was silent for a few moments and gently wrapped his hand round his mangled arm. “But it was more than that,” Alvar said slowly. “When my sister saw it, she screamed. The scream pierced the water and I felt so cold that I was like ice. I always thought of the sea as my home but when the siren screamed. I…”
“You lost a part of yourself.”
“Yes,” Alvar said and the Captain poured him some more whiskey.
“Before the sea brought you to my ship, the tsunami engulfed your sister but left you alive.”
“For years I’ve wanted to be with my sister. We should have been taken together.”
“And in time the sea will take you back and it will lead you home. But it has not taken you yet. Twice you have been pulled under the waves and twice you have resurfaced. The sea has taken something from you and it will not give it back until you are ready.”
“And when will I be ready?”
“I cannot say but I see the fear in your eyes Alvar,” The Captain said and Alvar enclosed his hand round his injured arm further. “It is often that oppressed that become the oppressors. You would be wise to become neither,” The Captain rolled up his sleeve to reveal a water droplet tattoo on his upper arm. It was the tattoo marking a slave on the trading ships, the men who bore the tattoos were known as slaves of the sea. It was the same tattoo that the sirens had tried to rip out of Alvar’s arm. “All men need anchors in this world, to prevent us from walking down the wrong path,” The Captain told Alvar before rolling his sleeve down again. “We will heal your arm and get the tattoo redone. You are a slave and therefore you will be treated as one. But to you I say this; Do not fear death, for it is an anchor. Fear instead, anchors that tie you to this world as they will condemn you,” The Captain said, glancing at Alvar’s wound before leading him back onto the deck.