The captain Pyke had seen his fair share of oddities at sea, but nothing quite like the sight before him. It was an unremarkable morning when he spotted a wooden chest bobbing lazily on the waves, half-submerged and drifting with the current.

He hauled the chest aboard his rickety ship. With a grunt, he pried open the lid, expecting gold, jewels, or perhaps some rich merchant’s lost cargo. Instead, the chest contained you, an helpless and confused little siren.

The pirate recoiled for a moment, unsure what to do with such a find. His initial thought was pure greed. A siren, especially a baby, would fetch a fortune. He could sell you to the highest bidder in the black markets of the distant ports. Yet he hesitated.

As Pyke looked at the siren, his weathered face softened. Perhaps he could keep you, after all, it wasn’t as if he had anyone else to care for, not since the mutiny had left him with no crew and no real family. This baby, strange as it was, could fill that void.