Waves crash and break against the jagged rocks, awash with seaweed and the bones of sailors whose time have come to pass. Ren and Vane traverse the rough terrain by the base of the hill, keeping a lookout every so often but not a single Siren in sight. As they round the hill, though, Ren distinctly hears the sound of screeching from within, like a million birds are screaming all at once. He tightens his grip around Ifrit; it is all he can do to not jam his fingers into his ears to block out the noise.

Soon, they find a cavern, denoted by golden pillars etched with illegible script, where the screeching is the loudest. Light filters through holes in the ceiling of the cavern, falling on what appears to be a silver statue glimmering in the light. The statue depicts a woman with a tail, her arms spread out, but her head has basically crumbled away, and the rest of her body desecrated.

Gathered around the statue is a ring of Sirens, talons gripping tight to the rocks, surrounding three girls in the middle—two very familiar girls, and one who is not-so-familiar. However, none of them appear to have noticed their presences yet, preoccupied with an argument with one of the Sirens. Ren is about to shout, but Vane slaps a hand over his mouth and manhandles him away from the cavern’s opening.

“Apologies for the rough treatment, Master Ren,” Vane whispers, “but drawing attention to ourselves like this will be suicide.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Ren drops his voice, and Vane glances back at the cavern.

“It would be best if one of us can be a distraction, while the other saves them.” Vane touches his chin absently. “That is the best course of action, but either way, it is going to be dangerous, and I simply cannot put you in such a situation.”

The prospect of splitting up, potentially facing down an entire flock of those things alone, does not appeal to Ren much either. But if they don’t do anything, then Penny and Gridel…

“Let me be the distraction,” Ren says. “I’ve got an idea.”

“An idea?”

Ren nods. It’s something only he can do, and damn will he let Penny and Gridel become those grotesque things just because he’s afraid.

*

Ren clenches his jaw. He’s just barely made it up the side of the hill, fingers scrabbling at the biting edges of the wall. It doesn’t help that his robes get caught fairly often on protruding stones. When he pulls himself up and over the top of the cliff, he finds it empty. Good.

Although, it is from here that he can hear song. A vague tune instead of mindless screeches. It’s a rather distorted song, in a language that Ren has never heard of before. It grates on his ears, it really does, and if this goes on, his head will explode.

Ren peers through one of the holes in the roof of the cavern. The Sirens are the ones singing, wings spread and dancing about to the tune. Penny, Gridel and the other girl are curled on the ground in foetal positions, and for a moment, Ren can see it. The flash of a wing, of the morphing of leg to talon.

Hell if he’s going to let that happen. Ren aims Ifrit through the hole in the roof, utters a quiet prayer in his head, and fires.

A stream of fire bursts through the hole, a controlled blast that forms a ring around the three girls and the statue. The Sirens shriek in surprise, flapping their wings and darting away from the fiery dome. They emerge from the holes in the roof, some of them flying out from the mouth of the cavern, where Vane is waiting.

“You!”

Ren looks up into another familiar face, but it’s not one that he’d ever want to see again in his life. The Siren that disguised itself as Clemon—a bloody streak across its face—makes a dive at him. Ren grabs his rod and slams the orb into its face, rewarded with a sickening crunch of bone and the Siren falls to the ground, now motionless.

Ren hears Vane’s shout—the signal—and dismisses the flame. A shrill scream from behind him has Ren turning his head, staring straight at the scowling face of a Siren. Ren yells and ducks, its talons scratching his scalp. Pain erupts from the gash, and Ren almost tumbles off the cliff edge. Unfortunately, that single Siren is not the only monster gunning for him. Three more Sirens have spotted him, fangs and talons out, ready to gobble him right up.

Ren makes a sweeping gesture with Ifrit, a fan of flames keeping the three Sirens at bay. The Sirens fly higher into the sky, the wind from the beat of their wings ruffling his hair. However, they are far enough that Ren has time to make for the route that he took climbing up, slotting Ifrit into the strap on his back.

It’s a long way down, and not to mention that it’s steep, with what must be a flock of at least ten Sirens circling the hill, looking for the interloper. Said interloper desperately clambers down the side of the cliff face, fingers wound tight around the branches growing from between the rocks. His toes slam against the rock wall, searching for footholds.

The first talon in his back digs deep. The shock of the pain forces a scream from Ren’s throat, and he loosens his grip on the rock. Gravity snatches him with its unyielding claws, sending him hurtling to the ground. Nothing but air lies beneath him, and his stomach wrenches as he plunges through the air, towards certain doom on the rocks below.

And this time, no one’s coming to save him. That means Ren’s got to save himself.

He grasps blindly at the Sirens crowding around him, fingers closing in on one of their legs. The Siren yelps, trying to yank free from his grasp, but Ren is not letting go without a fight. He grabs a handful of feathers from yet another Siren, both birds doing their best to fly upward and away, inadvertently taking Ren with them.

Of course, they’re not strong enough to break loose, and Ren clings on for dear life even as the other Sirens sink their razor fangs into his hands. The white-hot sear of pain blinds him, and Ren squeezes his eyes shut as the pain courses through him, but he keeps his iron grip on the Siren’s legs, knuckles turning white with the strain.

Then, just when he thought the assault will never end, he hits it. The sandy beach. Grains of sand scratch against his robes, and Ren lands with nothing more than a knock of his buttocks against the shore. He whips Ifrit out, and his blood speckles the sand. With a sear of fire, he sends the Sirens away, seconds before something sharp snaps through the air and pierces the neck of one of the birds. The Siren goes plummets into the water, and Ren and the flock glance over at the source.

Gridel stands, crossbow already nocked with another bolt. Vane runs up to the birds, slashing with his sword. The Sirens’ ebony blood burst from their severed bodies, the dead birds landing with soft thumps against the sand, staining the white beach with splotches of black.

Vane grabs Ren’s arm and drags him from within the flock. The birds screech and take to the skies, prepared to swoop once more. Ren crashes into Vane’s chest from the force, flinching as his cheek meets the cold sting of the metal breastplate. Vane cuts down a couple of the Sirens, while Penny hops in and steals a few kills.

“Y-You’re bleeding.”

That’s a voice Ren’s never heard before. He glances towards the source, to find a woman running up to him, the same woman who was captured with Penny and Gridel. It’s only now, when she grasps his arms firmly that Ren gets a good look at her. The woman is about as tall as he is, dark wavy hair draped over her shoulders, complementing her flowing, blue gown.

A cooling wave trickles from her arms as the woman mutters what sounds like an incantation, the water curling around Ren’s hands. He rather expected it to hurt, even if it were mere pinpricks, but for some reason, he feels nothing at all. Not nothing, per se, but the sheer lack of pain. If anything, it feels relieving.

“Are you alright?” the woman asks, the last of her magic sealing his wounds. “Does it hurt anywhere else?”

His head and back are still bleeding, probably, from where the Siren quite literally ripped into his skin. The woman gets to work immediately, placing her palms flat against his robes, and Ren winces at the drag of fabric across bloodied flesh. The magic flows through him, from her mouth, she sings a tune that Ren remembers hearing. A song that he heard not too long ago.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

She patches the wound up readily, and soon, Ren’s back to feeling as right as rain. The battle that ensued is quickly dying down now, with Vane and Gridel cleaning up the last of the stubborn Sirens; the meeker ones have already fled.

Penny stabs a finger at the remainder of the retreating flock. “And stay away!”

Vane sheathes his sword, and Gridel slots the crossbow back onto the holster on her back. Penny jams her dirk back into her sheath as well and runs up to Ren and checks for injuries.

“Oh, thank God.” Penny flashes him a smile. “When I woke up, I wandered the beach, but then I couldn’t find you guys.”

“Then how’d you end up with the Sirens?”

“Clemon,” Gridel says. “They had Clemon.”

“Wait, so Clemon isn’t dead?” Ren glances from Gridel to Penny.

“The boy you were with?” the woman asks.

Gridel nods. “Yes. Him. Do you know where he could be?”

“They must have kept him in their pantry,” the woman replies. Do Sirens even have pantries? “Probably below the temple.”

Gridel and Vane decide to venture deeper into the Sirens’ territory, while urging Ren, Penny and the woman—whose name is Isla, as Ren learns—to stay outside. The trio accedes to the request, and the two Gravelle warriors head in. The flock of Sirens don’t appear to be returning anytime soon. They’ve either abandoned this isle of theirs or are too afraid to strike now.

In any case, the adrenaline that flooded Ren dies down. He, Penny and Isla are left to stare out at the sea, waves crashing against the beaches of other islands.

“So,” Penny says, turning to Isla and gesturing at the cavern, “this place is a temple, is it?”

The woman nods. “A temple dedicated to the deity of the waves, Marina.”

“Why’s she so beat up? I mean, it’s not like people were chased underground or anything.”

“Her likeness has succumbed to the elements,” Isla says. “However, her spirit lives on in Aquarius’ embrace.”

Speaking of the four great spirits…

“By the way, are you from a colony?” Ren asks. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

Isla drops her gaze. “There’s not really…well, the colony’s a little…” She trails off, and Ren’s stomach drops to the pit of his gut. What is that unsure answer supposed to mean?

“It wasn’t…destroyed, was it?” Penny frowns.

It was at that moment that Vane and Gridel emerges from the Siren’s cave, the former piggybacking a limp Clemon. Clemon is, surprisingly, still alive, despite the numerous injuries sustained all over his body.

“Isla, could you heal him?” Penny asks, as Vane lets Clemon down onto the sand, the rise and fall of his chest hardly noticeable. Clemon is unnaturally pale, dried blood crusted around the gashes on his face and the puncture wounds where the Sirens must have attempted to eat him.

Isla kneels by his side and wraps her fingers around his wrist. Watching the magic at work, instead of having it work on him, is a whole different experience altogether. Isla threads beads of water from her fingers like a weaver at a loom, laying the gleaming droplets on Clemon’s body. She sings that song again, the one that flows ever so gently out of her mouth, and the beads of water turn an iridescent shamrock colour.

Clemon’s wounds patch themselves together, flesh knitting back as if the wounds were never there to begin with. Clemon coughs, and he cracks open his eyes. He stares, unfocused, up at Isla, who works to erase the rest of the scars from his body.

“Holy Mother Gaia…” Clemon mumbles. “You’re so pretty.”

It was with that that Penny howls with laughter, throwing herself against Ren and slapping his shoulder so hard that Ren wheezes from the impact. If Gridel and Vane heard it, they don’t make any indication. Isla doesn’t stop her song, and instead untangles the last knot of injury, smoothening out the final kink. With a snap of her fingers, the water disappears, and Clemon is as good as new.

“Thank you for the compliment,” Isla says as she stands. “You’re a rather handsome thing yourself.”

Clemon grins stupidly, like an infatuated teenage boy (on second thought, that’s exactly what he is). At that moment, Ren hears shouts from behind him, as well as the blow of a horn. He turns to the sea, watching as a ship sails towards them, their sails drawn and their vessel carried by the wind.

“Wh-Who’re they?” Ren asks.

“That’s…the colony. Well, part of them, anyway,” Isla says. “They’re probably here for me.”

“Think they could give us a lift as well?” Penny asks. “I mean, we have to leave this island somehow and our ship got completely wrecked.”

Isla bows her head. “I will ask. It is not a guarantee that they will, however.”

Not a guarantee…Ren doesn’t like the sound of that.

The ship approaches and drops its anchor a distance away. Soon after, a rowboat slowly makes its way to the island, upon which sits two men in what looks like sailors’ outfits. The man who is not rowing spots Isla, and he greets her in a tongue that Ren does not understand. Isla’s reply is quick, the syllables falling from her lips ever so easily.

Isla turns to them after the conversation’s conclusion. “He says that there will be boats sent for you, but I will need to return first.”

It’s not like they have a choice. Isla waves as she is rowed back to the giant ship with one of the men, while the other watches over them with the intensity of a hawk. Ren fidgets nervously under his glare. He makes no move to speak to them, though it’s not like Ren would understand his language anyway. Probably.

They don’t have to wait long for more rowboats to arrive; these boats are bigger than the first one. Ren gets in one with Penny, while Vane, Clemon and Gridel occupy another. With that, they begin their short trip from the shore to their new abode.

*

If Ren thought the Seastar was huge, this ship is giant. The number of crew members is nothing to scoff at, either. At least three people are pulling up the anchor, and a couple more are manning the sails and the various ropes that Ren has no idea what they do.

Isla seems to have disappeared. At least, she was not there to greet them when Ren and his friends stepped aboard the ship. The sailors who ferried them to the deck marches them towards an important-looking room, with a silver nameplate affixed on the wood of its heavyset door. Well, Ren can only think of one person on a ship that would have such a fancy cabin.

The burliest sailor of the lot pushes the door open, revealing a spacious room decked out entirely in silver. Silver medals, an atrocious number of silver padlocks, a silver horn hanging on the wall behind the captain’s seat that probably belongs to some enormous sea creature whose life he conquered. The captain himself sits on a wooden chair behind a desk, and who should stand behind him but Isla.

“You must be the people who saved my wife,” the captain says, clasping his fingers in front of him. “I must thank you, dear travellers.”

Penny bows her head. “It’s our pleasure, Captain…”

“Percival,” the Captain says. He reaches out a hand, which Penny accepts and shakes. Ren does the same. “Who might you be, fair maiden?”

“Penny Gladsworth,” Penny says, and makes a sweeping gesture at Ren and the others. “This is Ren Higuchi, and that is Vane, Gridel and Clemon from the colony of Gravelle.” The three of them bow in turn.

Captain Percival claps heartily. “How well-mannered you are, and your friends as well. And you are the leader?”

“Well…we don’t really have a leader,” Penny says, glancing back at her companions. “We’ve just been travelling together.”

“That’s a relief.” Captain Percival laughs. “Wouldn’t do to have a woman in charge now, would it? Isn’t that right, Isla?”

Isla drops her gaze. “That’s right.”

Ren bristles. What is that supposed to mean? Penny maintains a stoic expression, but if anything, she straightens her shoulders and stands up a little taller.

“Now, what would you lot be doing here in the middle of the Marina Archipelago?” Captain Percival asks, now affixing Ren with a jolly grin. “Rather amazed that Gravelle is still alive, though. Don’t know what’s going on in that old codger’s head. He should have taken the reins from his wife. Nothing good ever comes out of a queen’s rule.”

“Queen Elvira is a good ruler, and she is loved by her people,” Penny cuts in, and there is an edge to her voice now.

“As citizens of Gravelle, we are inclined to agree with that notion,” Vane says.

Captain Percival waves his hand dismissively. “Well, sooner or later she’s going to mess up, I can assure you that.” He turns to Ren. “Now, since you have been so kind as to bring my Isla back to me, perhaps I should extend Cascasia’s welcome to you, my good sirs. Isla, my dear, show them to their rooms, won’t you?”

Isla bows, even though Captain Percival can’t see her. “Of course.”

She strides to the door, before pushing it open and ushering them out. Raucous laughter floats into the room, and Ren and the others follow Isla out the captain’s quarters.

The first thing that greets Ren when they descend the stairs that lead to the cabins is the strong smell of musk, which he turns his nose up at. The short walk to the guests’ cabins is filled with silence, punctuated by the occasional step of the maids aboard. They glance over at them, the inquiry clear on their faces—what are these people doing here? Where did they come from? Who are they?

“These are the men’s rooms. Gentlemen, please do make yourselves at home,” Isla says, holding her arm out. Her entire demeanour has changed since she conversed with them on the island. From the dead look in her eyes to the tension of her shoulders…it’s as if her soul has been sucked out of her being on this ship alone.

“Isla,” Penny says, grabbing her arm. Isla flinches, throwing her gaze about, but in spite of her discomfort, Penny continues sternly. “Why did you marry that man? He’s treating you like a servant.”

“I…I had no choice,” Isla says, averting her gaze. “That man owns something precious of mine. I cannot leave him while he has it.”

Penny drops her voice to a whisper. “Come on. There can’t be anything so precious that you have to stay.”

Isla shakes her head. “You don’t understand. Don’t pry into matters you know nothing about. Now, Penny and Gridel, please come with me.”

For an instant, Ren sees the tears shining in her eyes, before she ducks away and hurries off back down the corridor. Penny sprints after her. Gridel meets Vane’s gaze, as if to say that they’ll be back, and takes off, leaving the three men standing there, each in varying states of confusion.

“I…will look for Lady Penny and Gridel later,” Vane says. “Master Ren and Clemon, do rest your weary feet, for we have much to do.”

Ren forces a smile and thanks him, before stumbling into his room and shutting the door behind him. There is a single cot in the corner of the room, and at its foot is a chest. Other than that, there is next to nothing in the cabin, truly minimalism at its finest.

Ren lays Ifrit on the ground and lays on the cot. Drowsiness washes over him, and Ren curls up on his side. Captain Percival sure rubbed him the wrong way, but for what it’s worth, he did provide them a place to rest (and hopefully some food). Moreover, he should be able to help them out, being the leader of the colony of Cascasia, right?

Although he is very much exhausted, Ren cannot bring himself to sleep. He squeezes his eyes shut and tosses and turns in his bed. Hell, he even tried counting sheep, but that didn’t work either.

Needless to say, Ren hadn’t caught a wink of sleep by the time a knock sounds from the door.