Gods below, the privateers.

The reefs weren’t deep enough and the mangrove channels were wholly unsafe for her people.  They’d been pushed farther away, into colder and darker waters with every passing year.  Just over two centuries old, the siren had watched the dismaying growth of power from the very beginning.  There were no more sun-browned fishermen in swift canoes, only the pale faced men with strange languages and enormous ships.  Where they once felt comfortable making the journey to land to walk among the trees and lay in the sun, her kind barely made it to the shallows anymore.

Her first encounter of these seafaring men and their insatiable souls was on a stormy evening, as she sat singing upon rocks that were exposed by the low tide.  The storm had gathered swiftly, and she’d taken up the job of guiding a flock of migrating birds through the danger.  Her song was a beacon and a waystation, aiding their navigation and redirecting them away from the center of the storm.  However, the birds were not the only thing her wordless singing had attracted.

A huge thing suddenly loomed out of the gray rain, its dark body and strange spines gliding too quickly across the water.  She redirected her song, now frantic in tone as she tried desperately to warn it away from the rocks.  The siren realized it was no creature of the sea— not ancient kraken or even reclusive dragon— as it would not heed her warning calls.  She saw small figures rushing around on the creature’s back, and suddenly knew it was no creature at all.  A massive wooden ship, made of countless planks and ropes and other such things she had never seen.  They were men, she finally noticed.  Men were running around and screaming orders to each other.

Decades trickled by, and she found out these first men called themselves Spaniards.  Then came a different kind of men that called themselves English.  Now, most recently, the French.  Her people had many names now; chilota, mer folk, sirens, and others.  She liked the myths they spun about sirens the best, calling her some evil being that sang on rocks to lure ships to their demise.

How self-centered these men were!  Thinking her singing was for them and not the animals or the sea or the stars.  They didn’t even understand the language of the sea or the sounds of the deep.  It was just like humans to lust after things they did not understand.

But as smart as the siren was, these men were smart too.  They adapted too well, and too quickly, to the sea’s misgivings.  They prodded foolishly at ancient secrets and powerful magic.  It wasn’t long after the advent of this ‘privateering’ business that creatures of all kinds began to disappear from the waters.  Those still brave enough to venture on land heard whispers of the British Navy’s scheming.  They were making their ships swifter and smaller, not for cargo, but for hunting.

It seemed their ravaging of the Caribbean islands was not enough; they needed the soul of the waters too.  Merfolk and their like were being run down and snatched up as the Navy searched for those with the most ancient and potent blood.  The siren herself was one of them, the two deep blue horns on her head signaling her ancient power to all merfolk.  Her bloodline stretched back through thousands of years of mer-history.  What the humans called a siren was known to her kind as a storm singer.  Her coveted voice could ring loud and clear to any creature of the sea, warning them of storms and other dangers.  She was a voice of the deep, a herald of the ocean.  The siren and her kin, if strong enough in their magic, could both conjure and dissipate the terrible tempests of the sea.

There was a clear and calm day where she let her gift show; when she happened upon one of the Navy’s wretched hunting vessels, trying to subdue a water dragon.  An ancient rage filled her, so potent and scorching that she all but rocketed to the surface.  As soon as her mouth cleared the waves her song was bursting out of her.  The harsh notes cut through the air like banshee screams.

All action halted as dark clouds gathered overhead.  The winds howled, mingling with her voice and pushing the song into a frightening crescendo.  She had drifted closer to the boat, readying herself at a moment’s notice to aid the dragon.  Her sister of the sea was thrashing wildly, deafening roars nearly drowning out the siren song.  Brandishing a knife made of shark’s teeth, the siren rushed forward as the dragon sank her teeth into the starboard gunwales.  Men shrieked and howled, redoubling their efforts as she sawed at the ropes restraining the dragon.

Something heavy and rough slammed into her back.  Instinctively, the siren twisted away, but found herself tangling in a thick net.  She lashed out in distress, but it only made things worse.  Her knife was wrenched from her hand as she was jerked away from the dragon.  Slowly but surely, her horror increased with each tug as she realized she was being pulled on board a new ship that had joined the fray.  As she broke the surface, getting banged painfully against the side of the ship, she could see the dragon being pinned between the two.

The other ship was badly damaged, the men would have to consolidate to one, but that wasn’t stopping their efforts to capture the dragoness.  Bitterness filled the siren’s mouth as she watched them throw more and more ropes over the dragoness, trying to haul enough of her out of the water to force the shift to her human form.

Before she could see the outcome, pain rocked the back of her skull and darkness swallowed the world.

~

The siren woke with her wrists shackled and chained to uncomfortable wooden flooring.  Her legs felt scraped raw and still tingled from the change.  She wiggled her toes, it felt like a lifetime since she’d step foot above water.  Her head ached from both the blow and the weight of her wet hair.  Some human man had had the perceived decency to tie a length of cloth around her waist, covering most of her legs.

It was a few groggy moments before she realized a man was leering at her and her cell companion, who was, assumedly, the dragoness.

“Gotta name, pretty fish?” His teeth were repulsive; he would benefit from a few minutes with cleaner shrimp.

“You cannot pronounce the names of the sea.”  She spat.  His eyes slid from her face to the shining blue horns on her head.

“Alright then, Blue.”  He sneered, “You and the dragon get comfortable, we’ve got a long sail back to the Governor.”

The siren, now called Blue by simple human tongues, spent many hours fuming in her shared cell.  At first, her and her new companion did not speak to each other; stuck in their own private mourning over the loss of freedom.  Over the sheer audacity of being captured by temporary creatures such as these British Navy men.  Soon enough, that burning rage turned to cold ashes and lament.  Their intentions were clear.

The siren and the dragoness were to be used as pawns in their war against other humans; but they were fools to try to enslave the power of the sea, the siren would make that clear even if it meant death.

“You slept a long time,” the dragoness finally spoke, “I am Nessi, of the Deep Trench.  Apparently, you are Blue.”

“That’s not the name the sea gave you,” There was a moment of tense silence, then Blue softened.  “Yes, I am Blue, of the Shallow Reefs.”

“I see your horns,” Nessi continued, “Can you sing us a storm?”

“They will cut out my tongue, if I do.” Blue said sadly, “And use my horns as something they called,” she paused for a moment, trying to remember the words.  “A tuning fork for storms.”  Nessi shook her head in disgust.  They would have to escape with quaint human tactics.  “What should they want a dragon for?”

“Aside from the obvious,” Nessi gave a grin, “I trap moments in time.  They think I will use this gift to help them travel faster.”  Blue wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“We must find a way to get you to your true form again, then we may destroy them easily.”

“They were careful to keep this room dry before you woke.  I suspect they will keep us thirsty until we reach their island.”

And so the scheming began.  They were careful to keep their voices down, and went utterly silent as men came and went from the hold.  Some rattled the bars or made lewd comments.  Blue wanted so badly to sing up such a terrible storm that the ship sank immediately, but she was no longer willing to risk the lives of other prisoners that had been brought aboard in recent weeks.  Not all were creatures of the sea, but the ones that were had arrived wounded and weak.  It seemed her and Nessi were lucky to be captured with only bruises and cuts.

It felt like a month, maybe more, before the ship came into port.  Her stomach was sick with the thought of being kept in a cage on land.  Her and Nessi pressed themselves to the farthest corners that their bindings would allow.  Shouts suddenly rose up above them, and feet pounded the deck.

“Something is wrong.” Nessi hissed.

They all jumped as canons boomed.  The ship jolted as they hastily pushed away from the dock, desperately defending the port from an unseen foe.  Blue grabbed Nessi’s hands.

“This will be our chance,” she said, “If we are separated, I will find you in your trench.”  Nessi nodded fiercely, but Blue couldn’t help feel as if they were bracing for the end.

There was a whizz of air and a crash in the deck below them.  Screams rose from some prisoners, but the creatures of the sea rejoiced as water began flooding up through the floorboards.  Nessi was shifting almost immediately, her face plastered with pure relief.  Blue felt the same eagerness wash over her as her legs fused into her beloved tail.

Another canon blasted through the wall, deafening Blue and Nessi, and splattering the selkie in the cell across from the with a sickeningly wet noise.  She let the image burn in her mind and fuel her rage.  These pathetic mortals would understand what it meant to be born of the sea’s power.

Nessi’s claws shattered their irons, and one by one the prisoners escaped back into the open waters.  All of them, save for the siren and the dragoness, swam for freedom.

Blue was sure they were doomed as she saw the attacking ship, bigger than the hunting vessels they’d been imprisoned on.  She could hear the loud clanking of the great guns.  Panic gripped her heart with cold talons.  In her dragon form, Nessi was an easy target, and the harbor gave limited escape options.  Straining the muscles of her tail, she rocketed towards her friend.  Above the surface, explosions boomed in painfully bright oranges and yellows.  The water was growing acrid with ash and gun powder.

As she arrived at her friend’s side, Blue realized she was unharmed.  In fact, she seemed clear of any danger.  Letting her head break the surface, Blue saw the truth.  No flag for king of country adorned that new ship, only a menacing black cross with a letter in each crux: ARC.  The guns of the ship were aimed directly at the British hunting ships.

The smell of burning wood and metal burned her senses, and Blue was forced to retreat underwater once more.  Human allies.  Pirates fighting for her and Nessi rather than trying to capture them.  Within minutes, she found herself watching the British ships sinking.  She turned away from the bodies drifting listlessly and signaled the dragoness to head for the larger ship.  She already seemed to know the pirates had helped them escape recapture.

Blue could hear raucous cheering from the deck as she approached the keep, warily putting her eyes above water.  Nessi raising her massive head to the gunwales.  Hush fell over the crew as salty steam puffed from her nostrils.  Blue moved closer, and could see a myriad of humans and immortals.  Two were out of place among the pirates; northerners from across the sea that traders used to speak about, who sailed on boats with fearsome heads carved into the bows.  She recognized the woman as a Valkyrie.  There was a holy man, too, staring up at Nessi in awe as if she were his own god.

Nessi swung her head to look down at Blue, and all eyes followed.  A man with an impressive beard shouted something, and immediately some of the crew was in motion.  They lowered a small net into the water; not for capture, but for her to climb into and be hauled aboard.  Only after seeing a reassuring nod from Nessi did Blue pull herself into the net, allowing them to pull her up.  It was a strange feeling as she was lifted; watching the water sluiced off of her, followed by a rush of mucus and scales from her tail.  Someone threw a coat over her as soon as she was on the deck, covering her bare legs.  Soon enough, it was Nessi turn to shift into her human form and be hauled up; and another coat was sacrificed.

“Welcome,” the bearded man stepped forward, clearly the captain with his highly adorned hat.  Blue bristled at his voice.

“English?” She hissed.  He shook his head, hands held up in attempt to show he was no harm.

“The Atlantic Raiders Coalition,” he corrected, “At your service.”  Blue and Nessi exchanged a look.  The entire crew had gathered around now, watching intently.  “We can release you in safer waters, if you don’t mind taking a ride.”  Nessi was already shaking her head.

“You can protect us from the Navy,” Blue explained, focusing hard on the English she’d learned over the years, “We keep you safe from storms.”  A debt where the siren and the dragoness could take vengeance on their captors was one they were not opposed to repaying.