Stiles had been told about storms at sea. They had the potential to be very violent, but Stiles never understood just how fearsome a seafaring storm could be. That is—until he experienced it himself. It was the second week at sea when the storm hit the Kitsune.
The day had been gloomy and the entire crew seemed on edge. Stiles was reading topside, letting the wind ruffle his hair. But soon the gusts picked up and the pages of his book insisted on turning before he was ready. A frown decorating his face, he closed his book and looked around. The sailors were all doing various things—tightening the ropes, checking that things were secure, and glaring at the skyline.
“Dinner will be served early,” Takahiro said as he walked up to where Stiles was sitting. Startled, Stiles jumped slightly. Takahiro gave him a curious look.
Stiles shook his head, “You gave me a fright. You said dinner is early tonight? For what reason?”
Takahiro’s brow furrowed and his lips tightened in to a displeased frown. He looked away from Stiles to gaze out over the sea. His dark eyes seemed to lose some of their light and for once he looked aged.
“We’re sailing in to cursed waters. There’s likely to be a storm tonight,” Takahiro turned his harsh gaze on Stiles, “I would recommend you stay in your quarters tonight, Ouji-sama.”
“Cursed waters?” Stiles asked.
The Japanese boy sighed, a harsh exhale through his nose. He moved to stand against the railing. The water was dark and menacing below.
“This area is known as the Umi no Shi. It literally means Death Sea. No one is exactly sure when, but a curse was put on these waters. Many ships sail through here never to be seen again.”
“Then why would we sail through here if it’s so dangerous?”
“It’s faster to go through than around,” Takahiro chuckled slightly. He turned, leaning against the rail. His mouth curled up in to a sly grin and his obsidian eyes sparkled mischievously, “The weather is always fierce here with the biggest storms that the sea has ever known. But that isn’t even the most dangerous part.”
“You mean the curse?”
“Hai, here there be bakemono.”
Stiles’ eyes widened.
Monsters.
“What do you mean monsters?” Stiles felt his stomach tighten and his throat constrict. He curled his hands in to nervous fists.
“Creatures only thought of in legends,” Takahiro gestured with his hand to the sea, “There are serpents out there that could swallow our ship in one gulp. There could be one swimming under us right now—its segmented body moving effortlessly through the deep ocean currents. There are some that have only ever been heard of and never seen. They are things that dwell in the darkness, far from human eyes. But those aren’t the dangerous ones.”
Stiles frowned once more, “There’s something even more dangerous than giant sea serpents?”
“Oh yes,” Takahiro nodded concisely, “The sirens.”
“Sirens?”
“Sirens are the most dangerous of all sea creatures. Not the sharks, not the poisonous fish, but the sirens.”
“What exactly is a siren?”
“No one knows where they came from. Stories say that they were created from a forbidden love. Other stories say that they were borne of the sea itself. Sirens are shapeshifters—they take the form that is most lovely to their prey. They sing songs that cause sailors to fall in love. Blinded by lust and passion, the sailors throw themselves from their ships and swim to the sirens. But they’re crushed by rocks that surround the siren’s perches.”
