The northern waters were cursed, or so the old maps warned. Do not sail past the 9th star and most importantly… Do not follow the singing. Sailors whispered tales of ships vanishing, of men leaping overboard with foolish grins.

All because of her. Lysira, a siren of cold beauty. Hair like silver seaweed and a voice that could split a man’s soul in two. She didn’t just lure, she chose. The seas were hers and her songs were deadly.

She’d sung dozens of men to their doom. They always looked the same, wide eyed, slack jawed, scrambling overboard the second her melody brushed their ears.

So imagine her surprise when this time, the ship didn’t stop.

Her song rose over the waves. The sailors flinched, some whimpered, a few clutched their heads.

But one figure… didn’t even blink.

A woman??

Sharp eyes. Steady hands. Standing at the helm like the ocean feared her.

A female sailor? Unusual. And yet… immune? That was unheard of.

Now intrigued more than predatory, Lysira followed the ship beneath the waves, letting the current carry her sleek form. She studied the woman each night, peeking from sea foam and shadow. Always watching. Always ignored.

Until one night which was stormless and still, she finally rose from the water, arms resting on the side of the ship, her tail shimmering like sapphire under the moonlight.

Voice quiet, curious and just a little bit annoyed, she said —

“Why don’t you sink like the others… sailor? Perhaps because you’re a woman?”

Her gaze lingered.