Sleeping Nightmare

Chapter 5: the ancient siren legend | Tyler

My gaze continued to follow the ferry as it rode its course to Delmitii. By now, the boat was a mere speck against the darkening sky. I beheld the profiterole in my hand, the memory of the girl's patronizing gaze when she'd deduced that I hadn't eaten since breakfast burned into my brain.

I'd noticed the traces of reluctance on her expression as she'd given me some of her profiteroles. Any sane person would have been unwilling to give such a treat away - after eating one, I'd felt that I was in heaven with the angels. Why she had convinced herself that I was worth her separating with almost a third of her profiteroles was beyond me, but I remembered the look in her eyes.

The girl's eyes were impossible to forget - her irises were a blackcurrant purple, glinting like amethysts. They were beautiful, but one could not deny the sadness that lingered in those violet depths, a sadness that appeared to have a presence in the way she defiantly raised her chin as if expecting to be challenged at every turn. And that sadness lurked, creeping on the edges of her coy smile.

It had been that sadness, that silent plea in her stance, her actions conveying more than her words could, that made me reach out and accept her profiteroles. I found myself wondering more about her. How could someone who appeared to be extremely compassionate be so unhappy?

Too late, I came to the realization that I didn't know her name. I silently reprimanded myself for not thinking to ask, so that I could repay her someday.

I knew she would be staying in Delmitii for at least a couple of days - she had been in possession of quite a few bags that suggested a lengthy stay. Perhaps I would be fortunate enough to cross paths with her once I returned to the siren island, although it was unlikely.

Bearing the responsibility of a worker at Jendilya's pier was not something I usually did. Kye-Ann had requested it of me this very morning. Due to a sudden sickness, the man registered to work today had been rendered unable to fulfill his duties. Kye-Ann had approached me after her failure to find a willing replacement (I mean, nobody wanted to stand for hours on end in the sun, especially when the arrival of the Narmian royals was still the hottest piece of gossip on the island).

"Please, Tyler," she'd said, and I would have called it begging - but I knew Kye-Ann never begged. Or, at least, she never allowed herself to look like she was pleading. Her face had been expressionless, until she'd delivered a glare that was cold enough to freeze even asteroid fire.

"Fine," I caved in. Not that I had much of a choice, anyway. We were friends, but a professional connection existed alongside the friendship I had with Kye-Ann. Despite everything, I was still required to follow her orders.

Kye-Ann hadn't paused long enough for me to consider whether I would need to carry any essentials of my own to the shores of Jendilya, and by the time it had dawned on me that I should have probably stopped to purchase lunch, Kye-Ann had disappeared and I was on my own.

When the sun had finally completed its descent below the horizon, and I'd long since finished my last profiterole, I boarded the last ferry heading back to the siren island for the night, watching the waves lightly brush against the side of the hull, carrying us on our way. A sudden flick in the corner of my eye caught my attention, and my head snapped upwards in time to see the end of a tail disappear under the water. It definitely wasn't a dolphin, or a shark - this tail had boasted coral-coloured scales, vibrant against the inky darkness of the ocean.

Before I'd come into contact with Queen Arya and her embassy, I'd had few encounters with merfolk in the past. The merpeople and sirens weren't enemies, but they weren't exactly on friendly terms, not like the quickly formed bond between the Queens of Narmia and Jendilya. When I was younger, I used to hope that someday I accidentally come across my father - or better, my father had come looking for me. Kye-Ann had been my reality check - my father was gone, my family would remain forever incomplete, although my mother was really all I needed.