(check user description for world information<33)

The sail snapped softly in the night wind as the pirate leaned against the rail, watching the moon fracture across the water.

“Easy, girl,” he murmured to the ship, hands steady on the worn wood. “Just you and me till dawn.”

A sound rose then, not a song, not quite. More like a breath that had forgotten how to be air. He frowned. “Crew?” Silence answered him. He was alone on deck. It felt strange, almost as if a presence was surrounding him. he had been warmed, Illyrian seas were dangerous, especially since they were covered in monstrous sirens who would stop at nothing to lure them to their deaths.

Another sound, closer now. A weak splash.

He drew his pistol, stepping toward the bow. “Show yourself,” he called, voice rough but not loud. “I am in no mood for tricks.”

Near the rocks ahead, something pale broke the surface. Not circling. Not singing. Just… struggling.

“Help,” a voice whispered, thin as torn silk.

He froze. “A siren?” He had expected beauty sharpened into danger, not this. The figure clung to a rock, shoulders shaking, dark hair plastered to her face. Blood stained the water faintly silver.

“You should not be here,” he said slowly. “My kind does not end well for yours.”