Siren's Kiss

44: Between Gods and Mortals

"We once had control—over the present, over what was yet to come. But when God Nerevarus perished, this place became a tomb."

The Forgotten Isle. The Lost Isle.

Similar, yet not the same.

What is lost will eventually be forgotten.

"And if the rest of the Seven Seas forgets what was lost, the island will vanish, just like the God buried here."

Ciel sat with the others around the long table, listening to the story of how the island came to be. Lyra and Bastian, the couple they had met earlier, had brought them to the village leaders, who welcomed them with overwhelming respect and excitement. This reaction only heightened Drake's growing unease, especially as the villagers seemed to worship Ciel as though he were a deity.

There was also the peculiar way the terrans looked at them, as if surprised that the siren prince had brought several companions along. Drake's discomfort didn't go unnoticed by those who knew him best-his crew, along with his childhood friends, Hawk and Purity.

"Shake it off, will you?" Hawk said, grabbing a piece of meat from the table, which was laden with delicious delicacies they had never encountered in the Seven Seas. "What could they possibly do against us? This village doesn't even have any formidable armored guards like the stalkers."

Drake shot him a wry look. Ciel, along with his sister and the siren scholar Sage, was still deep in conversation with the village leaders, eager to learn more about the island. "Mate, can ye stop bein' a glutton fer just one day? Why can't ye stop eatin'?"

"I'm starving, you nincompoop!" Hawk snapped, continuing to devour every piece of food he could reach. Watching him, even Drake's crew and Purity's first mate, Barny, were tempted to go for seconds.

Purity rolled her eyes in exasperation. "We've been through 'ell an' aft; I doubt poison would be enough to take the three o' us down," she said, shifting to a more serious tone. "What do ye reckon these terrans want? Ye don't think they're plannin' to force Ciel into sheddin' tears to cure this here land o' their so-called plague, do ye?"

Drake sneered. "I'd like to see them try."

"Aren't they, our ancestors?" Rowan interjected, surprising the others, who had almost forgotten he was there. "Shouldn't we show them at least a little respect?"

"Precisely—they're our ancestors. They belong to the past, an' I believe that's where they should stay," Drake replied sharply, though the tremor in his voice hinted at something deeper troubling him. It was his instinct that had saved him in countless daring adventures across the Seven Seas, earning him his notorious reputation. That same instinct was now warning him to stay alert as if something vital might slip through his grasp unnoticed. "Am I being overly protective?"

"Yes," Hawk, Rowan, and Purity replied in unison.

"Captains, if I may be so bold, these terrans be nothin' compared to the stalkers we've faced," Barny said. "They don't look like they could even hurt a fly."

"Don't be fooled by what yer eyes can see," Drake warned. "You'd be surprised at what someone we deem 'armless be capable o'."

Purity gave her first mate a smack on the back of his head. "Bilge rat. Haven't the sirens taught ye anything? They may seem 'armless, gentle, an' beautiful, but they're deadly when provoked."

Rowan snorted. "They also possess twice the knowledge of what's unknown in our world than all the templar scholars combined."

"Exactly," Drake agreed. "And they know how to strike where it hurts."