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Shelby had always been fascinated with the world that lay above the waves. Her podmates assured her it was a deadly fascination- “curiosity killed the catfish,” they would quote at her endlessly- but she was no catfish, nor was she planning on being killed. The ships that sailed above, carrying the humans from place to place across the water, were always so interesting to look at. And sure, she had to be extra careful that they didn’t see her, but it was worth it.
Especially when she could pop her head up out of the water as it sailed by, every human looking away, and see them. Their twin tails bore no scales- Scott had informed her that the humans called those “legs,”- and they moved so effortlessly without water to catch them. They would run, jump, spin, and laugh. Every time she’d seen them, they looked so happy to be there, which surely meant there was some magical quality about the world above which made life so euphoric.
However, while Shelby adored the world of those humans, the other three members of her pod were…less enthusiastic. By a large margin. It was common for her to argue with them about it, especially when they found out she had been swimming around and peering at the ships- They’d tell her off for being “irresponsible” and “reckless” and act like she was trying to get swept up by a net and cut up for inspection!
It was one of those days where Shelby had left in a huff, Pyro calling after her in concern, in the middle of Scott’s scolding. She wasn’t a tadpole, she shouldn’t be treated like a child. So what if she knew the least about the world, so what if she’d been sheltered her whole life? Pyro was younger than her, and they didn’t treat him like a little guppy!
It was unfair, she thought. Unfair and unreasonable. She was being careful, why couldn’t they see that? She wasn’t going to let anything happen to her! Or any of them! She just wanted to see the ships and the humans, the way they moved, the way they talked… it was so fantastical, like the stories her father had told her. Why should she let them sail by without even bothering to watch? For the sake of some small risk?
Lost in thought, Shelby didn’t pay attention to where she was going. She never strayed far from the cave where they all lived, of course, and could find her way back there no matter what- the currents would take her there if she asked them. But as she swam, mentally bemoaning her situation, the waters overhead began to churn. The fish fled to deeper water, but Shelby stayed near the top, attention not on her surroundings.
This was a mistake.
By the time she realized that a storm was coming, the storm had already come. She was thrown around in the waves, the world tumbling around her like the currents were taking her for the worst ride possible. No amount of swimming could stop it, no amount of flailing around would save her. Try as she might to twist and turn out of its control, the water was vicious, and now that she was in its grasp it didn’t plan to let her go.
Sand from the seafloor picked up, grating at her bare skin like rough coral, leaving the seawater stinging whenever it hit hard enough to cut. It left small red marks on her skin, rough burns like if she’d swam to close to the coral, biting at her like a bunch of little piranhas. Her vision was still spinning as the sand began to clog up her gills, building and building, leaving her struggling to take in any air at all.
I’m gonna die here.
Oh lord, I’m gonna die here. I’m gonna die here and no one will even know, Scott won’t know, they’re gonna think I just left they’ll be so worried and I’ll be dead cause I’m gonna die I don’t wanna die-
Her flailing hands, out and grasping as much as she could without getting too injured by the debris, managed to take hold of some sturdy object that wouldn’t come into focus, and she scrambled in a frenzy to get a better grip, clinging to it as tightly as possible. It too rocked in the waves, but not nearly as harshly, and it was something that shielded her from the worst of the debris and the currents.
Lady Luck had a soft spot, it seemed. Not that she would dare complain.
Wrapped around the smooth, solid object, Shelby did her best to clear her gills, and soon breathing was much easier, though still a slight challenge. No longer in immediate danger of dying, she tried to make the world come into focus to figure out what she was holding onto. It was an odd, smooth texture, and a shape she couldn’t visualize with touch alone.
She rubbed at her eyes, which was somewhat of a challenge considering she panicked every time her hold rocked and scrambled to cling to it with both hands, until the world finally came back into focus and she could actually see what it was that had saved her.
It was an anchor. Shelby had clung to the anchor of a passing ship, which was not very good. In fact, it was not good at all. Some would say it was bad, even.
However, Shelby’s immediate reaction was nothing short of ecstatic glee. She had never gotten this close to a ship before, and it was thrilling! The anchor was a lot more smooth than she had been expecting, though a few clusters of barnacles did ruin the feeling somewhat. She kept running her hand along its surface, feeling the odd, unnatural texture beneath her fingertips. She even managed to reach up a bit higher and graze a bit of the hull where the barnacles hadn’t yet grown in full, an odd texture greeting her reaching hand. It was slightly rough, and felt…soft, almost?
Though the waters were rough, there was a distinct sound that made her whip around, searching. A splash, a break in the tension of the border between her and the air. Something had fallen through the surface. Something was in her world now.
She found that Something when it- no, when she met her eye.
———————————————————
While Drift didn’t think that this storm was the worst they’d ever sailed through, it was certainly a ruthless one, and the ship was in complete chaos because of it.
Not one of them had noticed the sky turn dark. They’d had a successful voyage thus far, and were celebrating with a bit (or a lot) of Mr. M's signature blueberry mead alongside some festivities and bread. The taste of the mead was rich and bright, and though Drift didn’t drink much she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t had been sipping on a mug of it while they sailed onwards to the capital.
The crew was singing some godawful rendition of a shanty she couldn’t remember the name of, though naming it would surely be an affront to the original. The Captain’s unique accent meant only half of the words could be understood at best, and Avid was so consistently off-pitch she was beginning to think it was on purpose. Martyn and Mr. M were dancing in circles, spinning and cheering, the latter already at least two mugs in. Then again, who could blame him? It was his mead, after all, and they all deserved to have some fun after their recent success.
Still, maybe someone should’ve been paying attention to the skies and the seas. The first time the Beacon rocked with newly rough waves, Martyn had nearly gone over the side, screaming and flailing. It was by the grace of god, and Ren’s quick reflexes, that their crewmate was still safely aboard, if shaken.
They didn’t have time to be shaken. Not with the storm rolling in quicker than they could hope to prepare.
The Captain jumped into action with no hesitation, and the crew was soon to follow, though a bit unsteady on their feet. Mr. M and Martyn raised the sails, while Drift and Avid rushed around to secure everything below deck or strap it down. They lost a tragic amount of ale in the onslaught of waves, but the majority of it was, thankfully, secured without much issue.
Still, the constant violent rocking, uneven and inconsistent, left all of them stumbling over their own feet, Drift especially. More than once the world seemed to slip out from under her, falling away as the ship went one way and she the other, only for her to come crashing down against the deck moments later.
“There be a big wave comin’, don’tcha know!” Ren called out, voice cutting through the rain like a blade. “Brace yerselves!”
Drift scrambled to her feet, rushing to grab the nearest handhold, to hold it tight and ride out the wave.
She almost made it.
Almost wasn’t good enough.
One second her hand was reaching out for the wooden railing beside the stairs to the lower deck, close enough to almost feel the wood grain beneath her fingers. Then she was weightless, then she was falling. She heard Avid yell her name, saw the Captain turn in wide-eyed concern and barely restrained panic, before the ship slid away.
The world went quiet when she hit the water, the sounds of rain and wind and waves all muffled. It pulled her down, grabbing at her and twisting her around, threatening to push the air from her lungs. Try as she might, any amount of flailing swimming couldn’t help her reach the ship- it only fell farther away.
Something met her eye.
It was blurry, the world under the waves. But despite this she saw hair as white as a calm day’s clouds and eyes, red as the blood in her very veins, that met her own with the shock and wonder Drift was sure could be seen on her own face. She could certainly feel it in her chest, shock and wonder and awe, blooming like a vibrant blossom in the heart of spring.
The world came to a standstill. It pulled time out like the heart of a hdream. All that mattered was the ghost coming right for her, those eyes never leaving hers. All that existed was the two of them, a sailor and a phantom that reached out to grab her. All she could see was that face, those eyes. All she could hear was her own heart beating fast enough to burst. It was gorgeous. Otherworldly. Something so beautiful it was never meant to be seen, never meant to be real. Only ever made to exist in the place between fantasies and dreams. The white of its hair surrounded it like a halo, flowing with the waves in languid slow-motion.
The ghost grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her along, and Drift did nothing to fight it. It reached out and touched her face, fingers caressing her cheek. Its skin was cold, like it had never felt warmth ever before, smooth and soft like velvet. But the eyes were warm, so warm, like all the sun’s power was held gleaming within them. God, Drift could live in those eyes forever, and she'd be happy to. She reached out to touch its face as it did hers, a soft smile playing on its rosy pink lips…
…And then suddenly time came rushing back, the world came crashing down. It darted past her and a cold hand wrapped around her mouth and nose, the other snaking around her arms and waist, pinning her tightly to its body. The ocean passed by in a blur that faded in and out as Drift struggled despite herself, the lack of air making her lungs ache. She couldn’t bring herself to be upset about the turn of events, but maybe that was because her mind was still lost somewhere in that moment.
Wherever it was taking her, she hoped there was air, or it would be carrying little more than a corpse.
The world fell away, the arms around her offering a peaceful descent into a sleep that, hopefully, wouldn’t last for an eternity.
———————————————————
At Avid’s desperate shout, Ren turned rapidly, just in time to see Drift vanish over the side of the boat and into the waves. Avid gasped, clinging tighter to the rail he was holding, while both Martyn and Sausage looked up sharply, confusion and concern in equal parts in their expressions.
Red didn’t have time for any of that. He threw off the large coat he wore, denoting himself as the captain, as well as the big black hat, and dove in after her, ignoring Martyn’s panicked shout behind him.
Ren refused to let a member of his crew drown. The ocean would not take her, not while he was her captain and her a member of his ship.
The water quieted the storm, though the cold nearly knocked the breath from his lungs. It was like the world had fallen away, a physical blow that knocked the sound from the air, though the currents threatened to pull him further under with their fury. The surroundings were blurry, as they always were seen through water, and it didn’t help that his glasses had been left below deck during the dancing and the storm that followed. He turned frantically to find his missing sailor, any semblance of grace long forgotten, but when he found her his veins ran with ice so cold one might mistake him for the dead themself. Because there, right there, unconscious and limp, was Drift.
In the arms of a siren.
The beast had her clutched to its chest, wild white locks surrounding its head like a mockery of a halo. It had a long tail with sharp-shaped fins, the same colour as the very fluid in his veins. He prayed that it was planning on taking her as a pet, horrible as it was to think about, instead of hauling the corpse back to devour with its friends. At the very least he could get her back from a Siren that wanted her as a plaything, though mangled she would undoubtedly be.
They liked live prey better, anyway. Not that it was much consolation.
The monster locked eyes with him for a horrifying heartbeat, the bloody crimson of their own shining with hunger, with desire. Oh, how he wanted to chase it, strike it down with a harpoon and give it the bloody agony of a death that it undoubtedly deserved, but he had no equipment and couldn’t stay underwater long enough. The second it looked away, it was gone, cutting through the waves like a saber. It took Drift with it, helpless in its arms as prey lured in by an anglerfish. All he could do was remember the direction, and pray to whatever gods would listen that the sea would be on his side to reach her once again.
His lungs ached. He needed to breathe. But he couldn’t just let it take her.
…in the end, Breathing won out. He burst through the surface, panting, and clutched the ladder that had been thrown down the ship’s side feverishly with a white-knuckled grip. One thought replayed over and over in his mind.
It took Drift.
“Captain!” Maryn called, peering over the side at him, voice barely audible amidst the roaring waves and louder roaring thoughts running rampant through his head. “What happened?”
It took Drift
He let Martyn help him up once he climbed the ladder. Took his hand and pulled himself up. “Captain? Are you hurt? Where’s Drift?”
It took her. It TOOK her.
Ren raised his voice to address the ship. “Arm yerselves, me laddies. When this ‘ere storm passes by, we sail fer the North.”
“The capital is east, why are we going North?” Sausage asked.
“Where’s Drift?” Avid asked.
Him and Martyn shared a look. Martyn sighed.
“Please tell me it’s not Sirens.”
“I canne tell ye that and be honest, me laddie. One o’ them demons has taken her, and I canne let it do so without some kind o’ consequence, dontcha know.”
He nodded and turned to the crew. “Alright everyone, we’ve got a siren to catch!”
“A siren!? But how are we gonna-“
“Avid, quiet.”
“They’re so fast-“
“Avid,” Martyn snapped, “shut it and listen to the captain.”
Ren smiled grimly. “Thank ye, me laddie. Now, listen up! Mister M, ye’r on steerin. Young Avid, you’re on lookout. And Martyn, me laddie, I need ye to fetch the harpoons. Let’s get our sailor back, dontchaknow.”
“Dontchaknow!” The crew called out with mock salutes, before moving into a frenzy to do as the captain said. It was time to find a Siren. It was time to find Drift.
We can only hope it’s not too late.
———————————————————
“Okay. Okay.” Scott pinched the bridge of his nose, crimson eyes screwed shut. “Just to be clear, you swam directly into a storm,managed to get yourself close enough to a human ship to grab it, found a human…” he paused, giving Shelby a long suffering stare that anyone would wilt under. Unsurprisingly, she felt the urge to shrink back and find a hole to hide in.
“…yes,” she mumbled, glancing away.
“And after all that, you decided the best option was to bring the human you found here? Seriously?”
She nodded, feeling shame rise to redden her cheeks. He clicked at her once, voice rich with disappointment, and she only wilted further.
Sure, bringing her home maybe wasn’t Shelby’s smartest decision, but their little cave had a section of air! Where else was she supposed to take her?
So now, the whole pod- granted, there were only four of them- was in one of their caves talking. About her human. Her human currently sitting unconscious in one of the caverns in their little tunnel system.
Well, they weren’t doing much talking. Nobody seemed to want to speak after Scott was done recapping her explanation. She knew the pod didn’t like humans, but this one was hers! She was fine! She was incredible, really.
Pyro was the one to break the tense silence, in the end. “What are we gonna do with it?”
“We could kill it,” Owen suggested from an alcove above the group, a twisting hint of eagerness in his voice. Shelby was quick to shoot it down.
“We’re not killing her!”
“Why not?” Owen shot back sharply, “it’s the easiest way out now.” He swam down, face to face with Shelby, close enough that she could see the anger, and the pain, in the blood red of his eyes.
“Humans are dangerous. They’re monsters. If you got that one from a ship, that means you’re bringing more of them here. To kill us. The best thing we can do now is slit it open and leave the body out there for them to find.”
“We’re not killing her! I’m keeping her!” She turned to Scott, pulling the best guppy eyes she could muster. “Scott, please can we keep her? She’s not going to hurt us!”
“You don’t know that!” Owen cut in. Shelby shot him a look.
Scott sighed again, and all eyes were on him. “Shelby, you know I love you, but…Owen’s right.”
“What!?”
“We can’t keep it. If you got it from a ship, there’s more of them on the way.”
She huffed. “Please, it was the middle of a storm! None of them even saw me take her.”
except for the one that did.
“It can stay for now-“
“Yes!”
“Why?!”
He held up a hand to silence them both. “It can stay for now, until we figure out what to do with it. But you’re in charge of taking care of it, and if any of us get attacked it’s dead. Understood?”
“Yep! Oh, thank you Scott!”
“Don’t thank me yet, it might still die.”
Shelby thought back to that moment, those rich brown eyes like nothing she’d seen before. The wonder, the want, the lack of fear in them.
I won’t let that happen.
“I’m going hunting!” Shelby announced, grabbing a small seaweed basket and slipping out of the cavern without another word. Humans are fish, right? Yeah, cause they had those big nets for catching fish. What would they do with all of them if they didn’t eat them?
She found a bunch of little tropical fish, rockfish mostly, and caught them quickly. Sure, she needed to catch enough to feed her human, but a little snack for herself wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Nope! It wouldn’t. So she got food for herself, and food for the human. She lurked around the corners of the reef, trying to fill her basket with the skewered bodies. Hunting after a storm was a pain.
———————————————————
“Scott,” Owen started, “you aren’t
actually going to keep that thing around, are you?”
The elder siren turned to him slowly. This discussion was rapidly getting old. “Did you not hear what I told Shelby?”
“It’s a human!” Owen yelled, throwing his hands up and smacking Pyro in the process. “It’s a danger to all of us, especially her. You saw how she was when she brought it here, Scott, she’ll get attatched.”
“Well, she’ll have to learn at some point that attachment is futile,” he snapped back, waving his hand dismissively. “We’ll be fine, Owen. We’re in the middle of the ocean, we’re not gonna get found.”
“We are if someone keeps lurking around their boats!” Owen jabbed a finger towards him as he spoke, “you’re not taking this seriously.”
“I am taking it seriously. But they’re just humans, they-“
Owen cut him off with a bitter, incredulous laugh. “Just humans? Scott, they’re dangerous! You might be able to take on ships by yourself, but what about Shelby? She’s naive, she’ll swim right up to them and we’ll never see her again.” His voice kept raising, words more clipped and angry as he kept talking. “Or what about Pyro? He might know to keep away, but you and I both know they would shoot him down without a second thought!”
“Owen, they’d have to catch him first. Pyro’s the fastest out of all of us, that’s no easy feat.” Speaking of Pyro, he didn’t see him anywhere. Another one to track down once Owen was done being obtuse.
“Scott, why don’t you care? Why can you never bother to care about these things-“
“Just because I’m not working myself into a panic doesn’t mean I don’t care, Owen. Don’t try that with me.”
The younger just huffed, crossing his arms and turning away. “Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it. I’m going to find the others, since clearly you won’t bother to look out for them.”
And then Scott was alone. Ugh. Why was dealing with emotions so hard? Whatever. He knew what he was doing. Owen had issues with humans, but Scott knew what they were capable of. He wouldn’t have his pod harmed by them.
Besides, what was the real harm with letting Shelby have a pet for a bit? They wouldn’t be followed into a cave, so surely there would be nothing to come of it. Most likely, the other humans on its ship thought it dead, and had moved on. Sirens weren’t notorious for keeping their prey alive for long, after all.
———————————————————
When Drift woke up, she did it violently. As in, she woke up on her side, coughing up enough water to fill a small pond. Her lungs burned from it, and she had to take a good moment to catch her breath once she was able to breath to begin with.
When she finally had enough air in her to properly think, she rubbed her eyes open and took in where she was. Or, tried to. Her monocle had been lost somewhere, and there wasn’t much light in…wherever she was. Just some faintly glowing moss tucked around the corners of the cavern, and light coming from somewhere below the water. It seemed to be a dome of air, but the only way out would be to swim.
Oh, and she was soaked. And cold. Very, very cold all of a sudden. She stripped off her coat since it was doing her no good and hung it over one of the rocks. Shudders wracked her frame, and she curled up by one wall, trying to ignore her own shivers.
Okay, think Drift. You’re in an empty underwater cave. Alone. And wet. Why?
There was drinking, right? Yes. She could imagine the mead’s taste on her tongue. Drinking and then a storm. Someone had fallen overboard-
Oh.
Oh no.
Drift had been the one to fall overboard. She’d plunged under the waves, and then…her memories were hazy. She remembered a face, blurry but beautiful. Long white hair, cold skin, red eyes-
Oh god that was a siren. She’d gotten kidnapped by a siren.
A shudder wracked her again, this time from fear. The Captain had told them all plenty of stories about Sirens. They were bloodthirsty things veiled in otherworldly beauty, with voices like angels and fangs like the devil himself. He said that they’d once lured in his whole crew, men diving into the waves to reach them, only to be pulled apart in the water.
”They’ll lure ya in, me laddies, with songs and promises o’ darkness. Things they canne deliver. The demons spin ye tails of treasure, love, desire, only to tie ye up with their silky lies an’ gut ye like a fish!”
This was bad. Very very bad. What did a siren want with her? Why hadn’t it just killed her?
Why did it look at her like that?
She shook her head, trying to shake off the thought as well. It was a trick, it must’ve been, and she’d fallen for it like a fish for easy bait. But if she was still there…
The water rippled.
She glanced down and gasped when her eyes met a familiar red gleam, drawing back as close to the wall as she could. The jagged rocks poked at her, and it only sucked what little warmth she had away, leaving her colder still, but there were much bigger things she had to worry about.
Namely, the fact that her kidnapper was blinking up at her with those stupidly pretty blood-red eyes. And gorgeous as she was, there was no song she could weave to calm Drift’s racing heart.
She was about to find out the answer to the question she’d asked. Much, much sooner than she had wanted.