“The sea looks calm. Maybe we can reach this Black Bay after all.”

A man with a turban, tanned skin and robes made of thin cloth says in a heavy accent to his captain, a Carminian by the name of Berg Waters.

“I say this again, the Black Bay Port has been shuttered nearly a century ago. Why in the goddess Oceania's name are you so hell-bent on going there?” Berg asked, stroking his moustache as he watched the crew busy themselves scrubbing the deck. The crew had earlier complained to Ha’ad about how much Berg worked them and it was their luck that Berg had been within earshot.

Therefore, scrubbing the decks was a natural method of progression, no?

“Very simple, once they see the riches that the Hashite Company can offer them, they will tow my ship in so that we can trade. Black Bay is very optimally placed for the planned route that we aim to put into place.” Ha’ad Hashite, the founder of the Hashite Company said proudly, gesturing at the cargo hold.

In the cargo hold was some of the finest wares that the Hashite Company can offer them. Ha’ad Hashite was in a complicated competition with his siblings to take over as the next head of the Hashite Company.

His father had issued a simple challenge.

Whoever can earn the most money within three years shall succeed him as head of the company.

Ha’ad was eyeing the entire peninsular of the Carmine Kingdom as a potential trading ground. Spices have yet to reach the shore in large numbers and Ha’ad was already counting the money in his head.

“Sire, I am nothing but a seaman but I need to warn you again. You paid me and set sail I shall, but there are rumours of something unholy in the seas there, an unclean—“ Berg tried one last time to persuade the stubborn merchant.

“A fisherman’s tale!” Ha’ad waved his hand as if swatting the rumour aside.

“Sire, I have warned you, bear that in mind if anything untoward happens, may Oceania forgive us all.” Berg shook his head as he limped back into the cabin, leaving the young merchant behind sitting on his chair. The merchant apparently felt that standing on deck was too much for such a handsome, dashing merchant. He had brought from his cargo hold, a fox skin covered chair that was incredibly out of place on a cargo ship.

Shaking his head, Berg sat on his bed, before sighing deeply. The money was amazing, for such a trip. However, Berg’s father had warned him about the Sirens of the seas, which were perhaps even more fearsome than the Krakens.

Yet…

Berg held the cross that his father gave him, a necklace, or a holy symbol, some may call it and kissed it before lying on his bed to sleep. The teal coloured wood in his room started turning darker and darker… Until he closed his eyes.

In his sleep, he dreamt of his ship, the Proud Vagas sailing through the starry nights under a lullaby. A most beautiful one…

Can you see us?

We wait for you, our aching hearts~

That was when there was a massive tremor and Berg felt the shock of pain move through him as he fell face first onto the floor. Groaning, he pushed himself off the floor and rubbed his forehead.

“Oceania above, what the hell is going on…” Berg cursed and he was about to open the door, he felt a sense of dread in him. Pressing his ear against the door, he heard nothing.

That was exactly the problem.

A tremor this strong would have sent every sailor into what Berg called, an amazing session of stress relieving cursing as everyone either laughed, fell flat on their face or cursed freely.

Yet…

Berg went to his chest and grabbed his short sword and swallowing his fear, threw the door open. The word in his head… The word in the back of his mind… The word that has stuck with him since he accepted the mission from Ha’ad Hashite.

Standing on the deck was his crew alright, but all of them seem rooted to the floor, staring intently at something happening at the bow.

“What’s going on here!” Berg roared as he stepped forward, pushing his way through the frozen men who seemed to completely disregard the presence of the Captain.

In the centre of the crowd stood a woman, her long green hair drenched, her eyes a bright orange, dressed in white clothes that were almost see-through due to their being wet, which gave a hit to her voluptuous figure.

However, where her legs should be, was the body of a snake. The coy looking maiden slithered towards one of the men, who immediately gasped, as if in anticipation.

Remember, Berg. If you see a Siren, don’t stare into their eyes.

His father’s words echoed in his head and Berg retreated quickly. What had the tales told him?

As Berg reached the edge of the crowd, one of his crew’s hands grabbed his shoulder.

“The maiden says to wait. Where are you going?” his first mate said, his voice almost as if he was in a trance. Berg, increasingly anxious, raised his short sword and cleaved the man’s hand off. However, there was no scream. Just an eerie silence before everyone swarmed towards him.

“This way, Berg!”

Berg Waters has never been so scared in his entire life. The voice of a normal person broke the silence of the night and just in time to see Ha’ad lowering the small boat attached to the side of the cargo ship.

Without a word, Berg ran towards it, with a group of his crew running after him and the moment Berg jumped onto the boat, Ha’ad sliced the ropes, sending the small boat down to the sea.

At this point, a scream, almost inhuman came from the deck.

Berg, who was shaking, felt something wet in his pants.

“… I should have listened to you.” Ha’ad whispered as he rowed away from the ship. Then, all of a sudden, all of Berg’s men lined up on the side of the ship, with an arm raised, as if waving to Berg and Ha’ad.

Then, each of them, one by one, jumped into the water and Berg quickly stood up. There may be a chance that they could catch up-

Berg raised his sword, ready to strike down any of his former friends-

Then, he saw movement under the water, sea snakes, was it? Or-

More sirens enveloped the area where his crew had jumped into, and the waters turned frenzied, as the blood clouded the waters.

Berg sat down on the boat as Ha’ad rowed them away from the Proud Vargas. The sky, which had so many stars earlier, suddenly appeared dull and dark. The melody started again.

“No, no!” Berg screamed as he covered his ears.

Tears rolled from Ha’ad’s eyes. Maybe it was the end.

There were no screams as Berg watched his crew get devoured by the Sirens. There was only a sense of longing, as if the crew willingly offered themselves.