Three men landed on the quarterdeck, each with a loud thump. They were stocky men, and though Jeremy wouldn’t have called them fat, their stomachs protruded from their compact frames, and their clothing, aside from the flowy coat, was form fitting. One of them was slightly taller than the other two, who were close to or just shy of Jonah's height; it was likely the latter, given the inches on their boots.

Each of the three wore the same brown leather boots, weathered but well looked after, and long blue overcoats, styled with golden yellow trimmings and a double vent in the back — it billowed like a cape with their landing. They dressed in white shirts beneath the coats, and their formal appearance contrasted with their rugged beards and unkempt red-brown hair. They dressed like noblemen but looked like sailors.

Jeremy also couldn't help but notice the other commonality among the group - the peculiar artifact on their heads. It resembled an earmuff for sleeping, though it wasn’t designed for comfort. Instead of a bright and plush material, these were black with silver accents, and made of a smooth, shiny material with no visible texture. Still, it reflected the soft glow of candlelight.

The most unusual aspect was the small tendril that curved out from the side, reaching toward the men's mouths. The length of the thing was like threaded rope, and at the end — the part closest to the mouth — it thickened into a small cube, made of the same black material as the rest of the earmuff. A device to block out sound, perhaps?

The men took tentative steps forward, forming a triangle as their leader, the tallest of the three, took centre stage. Each of the three glanced over the ship and their gaze lingered on the broken mast, damaged by the Kraken. Jeremy noticed the leader's eyes furrow and his nose wrinkle whilst he examined.

It was a brief inspection, the newcomers quickly turning to Jeremy as he stepped forward to greet the guests. “Can you hear me now?” Jeremy asked. Having garnered their attention, he observed how the trio looked at him, eyes wide with fear, before their gaze shot to the rest of the crew.

“Lord have mercy,” the man at the front said, “what are you men doing?! Get inside!”

Jeremy didn’t budge. “Care to introduce yourselves before making demands?” The man seemed panicked, not aggressive, but being told what to do on his ship by strangers made his voice sharp.

“We can talk inside. Why aren’t you moving?!” the man asked. “You can hear us, right?”

His expression turned quizzical and his murky red brows furrowed. It was odd, the colour. All three, four including the man in the crow's nest, had the same dirty red hair. Perhaps they were related.

After a brief pause of staring at Jeremy, the leader spoke softly. “Should we take it off, over?”

“I don’t want you stripping on my ship,” Jeremy replied dryly. “And you’re not taking anything over.”

“I think it’s safe, over.” The man to the left said.

“I agree, over,” the other added.

The leader nodded. “You guys keep it on. I'll take it off. Over.”

The second mate held out a palm as he saw the ship guard's hand instinctively reach for his blade at the foreigner's swift movements. It was frustrating that Jonah couldn't hear, but knowing his reactions hadn’t dulled was good.

The stranger placed his hand on the artifact above his head and gently slid it off before rubbing his right ear with his palm. He cocked his head to the left and then repeated it.

“Hello again,” Jeremy said. “Would you like to introduce yourselves now?”

“Of course,” the man said, finishing his itch. “But it might be wise to do it indoors. There are Sirens about. And… I don’t know how to say this, but it kind of stinks out here.” He glanced over at a pool of vomit as he finished.

Jeremy chuckled mirthlessly. “I don’t invite strangers indoors, I’m afraid.”

"Elkhart," the man said. "To my left is Elrayn, and to my left is Elrasik."

That was easy.

"Brothers?" Jeremy asked.

"Brothers, yes, but not of the same mothers. So, can we go indoors now?”

“Just one moment. Why are you aboard my ship?”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The man's brows furrowed again. “Is this… not something we can discuss indoors?”

“Like I said, I don’t invite strangers indoors. If you want to come in, you can come in as a friend. After you tell me what you and your crew want.”

Elkhart raised a hand to massage his face in the most delicate facepalm Jeremy had ever seen. “We came… to see if you were all alive,” he said. His voice leaked with frustration.

“As you can see, I am not dead.”

“For now,” Elkhart muttered. “Fine, we will leave you to it, though I advise you to leave these waters for your own good.” He then signalled to the two men by his side, but before they moved, Jeremy stopped them.

“Wait. We’ll hear you out.”

The man gave a sigh of relief. “Good.”

***

In the low light of a room, three men sat across from Jeremy, gathered around a sizable oak table strewn with maps and parchment. Elkhart, Elrasik, and El-something, flanked by Jonah and Karl, looked expectantly at Jeremy, who simply waited.

The candles flickered and cast an ominous shadow on the faces of the men. It made Jeremy uneasy. The air felt thick with anticipation, and despite this being his ship, surrounded by his crew, he felt trapped in a room with predators.

They were no different outside than they were in, but it was the difference of observing a silverclaw, and being in room with one. Their demeanour was casual, unbothered; it was probably what he found so unsettling. They were three small, unarmed men, in a strangers room, on a strangers ship in the middle of the sea and with five potential hostiles eyeing them, yet they looked so at home.

A knock on the door interrupted his musings. Shelby, who stood with Karl behind Jeremy, opened the door and let Delia in. She hurried into her room, her hands clutched to her chest where various books and scrolls were stacked.

“That’s everyone,” Jeremy said, as she took a seat. He waited till she rolled out a new sheet and dipped her quill in ink, ready to scribe the minutes of the meeting.

“Ready?” Jeremy asked Delia and the man.

They both nodded.

“So, where do you men hail from?” Elkhart asked.

“My questions first, I think. Why would you think we were dead?”

Elkhart gave Jeremy a baffled expression. “Because… you didn’t respond to our message?” His voice rose an octave higher, as though talking to a child, stating the obvious. It wasn’t so obvious to Jeremy, but he hid that fact.

“Yes, but that doesn’t necessitate that we’re dead,” he responded, attempting to sound more intelligent than he was. “What would,” he paused as he searched for the word, “imply… us being in danger?”

“Did you men not read the sign? Sirens!” Elkhart shook his head, then picked up the tendril from the artifact and spoke into it. “Sajid, we need to move the sign. The range of the Sirens increased, over.”

Jeremy wanted to ask what the device was for, but held his tongue. It was obviously a communications tool, but what was the point of it if you could just… talk like normal? That was a silly question. The two men clearly couldn’t hear them now but could hear when spoken through the tiny appendage. The artifact was perfect for sailing siren-infested waters.

Answering his own question, Jeremy focused on his other curiosity. “You said his name is Elrasik, so why did he nod when you said Sajid?”

“Where are you men from?” Elkhart asked again.

“That’s not answering my question.”

He sighed. “Sajid Elrasik. I am Khaleel Elkhart, and my friend here is Adnan Elrayn. And we belong to the House of El. As for being dead… Well, you sailed past the warning signs. It’s a warning measure for unsuspecting sailors. Not fool-proof of course, which is why we patrol the waters. The fact you didn’t reply made us believe you were in their trance, dead, or were sailing to your deaths.”

Jeremy nodded along. “But we weren’t under their influence. And you speak as if Sirens can’t be killed.”

Khaleel Elkhart looked at Jeremy, then at Shelby and Karl, before bursting into laughter. It was so sudden, even the man's companions were startled.

“Lord have mercy!” He laughed before pausing as he gasped for air. “I-I’m sorry. That was inappropriate… of me. Of course, Sirens can be killed, but by you men? Not a chance.”

“Sounds like a load of shit,” Karl spat. “Jonahs knocked a few down from the air.”

Khaleel's eyes widened with shock. “So you’ve met them?! How are you not dead? How did you…” he trailed off as his mind went to work. “Ah! So that’s why it smells like dung.”

He hummed to himself as he re-assessed Jeremy and Karl, then turned to the ship guard and inspected him up and down. “Hmmm. Yes, I suppose he would be able to kill a few hatchlings.” He looked back at Karl. “But they would have swarmed you all in no time. Even we wouldn’t fare too well, and we're yellow!”

Jeremy’s eyebrows instinctively narrowed at the unfamiliar term, and Khaleel noticed.

“Sirens are threats even if you’re not under their influence,” he said, misunderstanding Jeremy’s confusion. “You can block your ears, which is what I assume you madmen did. It’s a little unconventional and explains why you didn’t hear us, but I digress. Even if they can’t sway you or slow your reactions, the eldest of them are strong enough to tear your ship to shreds. Which, mind you, would be no easy feat.”

The statement caused the room to fall into a contemplative silence. Even the Kraken struggled to damage the Flightless Owl. Were these things that dangerous? Just what had they escaped?

A cold sweat ran down Jeremy’s back, but he ignored it as he started brainstorming further questions to ask. This was the moment to learn everything about these waters.

As he was about to ask another question, his mind flashed back to the Khaleel's laughing outburst, and he froze, the full significance of the man's other words finally dawning on him.

Jeremy didn’t know what “yellows” meant, but Khaleel knew Jonah was the most capable of them all. And most worryingly, he implied Jonah wasn’t the strongest in the room — they were.