Side Story: Memories Lost to the Waves
The sound of waves crashing against the rocks reverberates through the air. A man sits with his back against the small crow's nest at the top of the mast, eyes gently closed, a faint smile playing on his lips as if he's lost in a pleasant dream. The cold sea breeze carries the spray of the ocean, which slams into black rocks armored with barnacles, shattering into white foam. The waves and the tiny rocky islet perform a symphony of the sea.
"···Ver···te···. (Ver...te)"
A voice, blending with the sound of the waves, drifts up from below, stirring the man awake.
"Hmm… Wha… Who's that…? Who's calling my name…?"
"Hey! Diverte! Get up already!"
"(Wait, is that Lesard's voice…?)" Diverte, who had been curled up, peeked over the edge of the mast and called down, "Huh? I wasn't sleeping! What's going on?"
"Come down and lend a hand over there. We're short on people."
A burly man with a sea serpent tattoo etched across his chest pointed toward the far side of the deck.
"What's up? (When did the ship stop?)" Diverte followed the direction of Lesard's finger, his eyes catching the scene ahead. Startled for a moment, he grabbed a rope tied to the mast and slid down to the deck.
Several crew members of the Viiosa were already hard at work, lowering the anchor and weaving thick ropes to secure the ship to the rocky islet. The waves lapped rhythmically against the small island, adding to the ocean's melody.
"Yo, Diverte! Late as usual, huh?" A man with prominent buck teeth greeted him with a wave, flashing an open palm in a friendly gesture. He handed Diverte the end of a rope that had been looped around a tall rock.
"I wasn't sleeping, just… thinking in a quiet spot."
Diverte replied, taking the rope and starting to tie a knot.
"By the way, Riguld, where are we? Why'd we stop here?"
"You're gonna flip when you see it. There's a treasure chest on the other side of that big rock over there."
"Huh? Treasure chest? What're you talking about? Did we find some cargo washed up by the waves?"
"It's cargo, sure—washed up, no doubt. But it's way bigger than you're picturing."
Diverte tilted his head, puzzled, while Riguld grinned, clearly enjoying keeping him in suspense.
"Come on, what is it?" Diverte pressed.
"Go see for yourself."
Riguld said, jerking his thumb toward the rock.
"Alright, be right back! Just gonna check it out!"
Diverte dashed toward the rock Riguld had pointed out.
"Wow… This is… incredible…!"
Diverte's jaw dropped as he let out an exclamation, staring at the massive galleon before him.
Wedged between the towering rock pillars of the islet, the ship's hull was encrusted with barnacles, its underside exposed above the water, casting a dark shadow beneath. It looked as though it had fought to escape the reef forest, only to be trapped and abandoned. The hull was riddled with holes, seawater sloshing into the tilted vessel. Small crabs scuttled in and out of the cracks in the broken frame.
"Ha ha ha! To think we'd stumble across the legendary Four Flue!" a voice boomed.
"The Four Flue? Is it famous?" Diverte asked, approaching the man who was laughing heartily while gazing at the wreck.
"What? You don't know the Four Flue?" The man stroked his graying beard and shot Diverte an incredulous look.
"Uh… well, no…"
"You've never heard of the siren hunter Greed Harpoon Lemaat's ship?"
"Siren hunter? You mean mermaids, right?"
"Yeah, those creatures that lure sailors to their deaths with their beautiful songs, making 'em leap into the sea."
"Ohh… I get it. So this ship…?"
"I told you—it's the Four Flue, the ship of the siren hunter Greed Harpoon Lemaat. Tch, go call the others over here. It'll save me from repeating myself."
"Aye, Captain."
The man, addressed as Captain, pulled a small wooden box from his pocket, pinched some snuff, and sprinkled it onto the back of his hand. He watched as Diverte ran back toward the Viiosa.
*****
A short while later, the crew of the Viiosa gathered around a crackling fire, the damp wood hissing as it burned. Captain Amard regaled them with tales of the siren hunter Lemaat.
He spoke of the legends of sirens: how their tears could heal even the deepest wounds, and how eating their flesh—said to be the rarest and most fantastical delicacy in the world—could turn back the river of time, restoring a worn-out body to its youthful prime. He also warned that to resist a siren's song, you had to tie yourself to the mast with ropes or stuff your ears with wet cotton to block out the enchanting melody.
The crew listened intently, as if watching a shadow puppet show in a bustling market square, completely engrossed in Amard's storytelling. Meanwhile, the ship's cook, who'd anticipated the long tale, busied himself roasting seasoned meat on skewers over the fire.
"The name Four Flue comes from the harpoon they used to hunt sirens. Unlike a whale harpoon with two barbs, this one's got four—and it's smaller, just the right size for catching sirens. It's designed to lodge deep so they can't yank it out with their hands. They've got arms, after all, not like fish."
Amard mimed the harpoon's shape with his fingers, biting off a piece of skewered meat from a stick.
"So, if this ship was famous for hunting sirens, there's gotta be a ton of shiny stuff on board!" Riguld exclaimed, his voice rising with excitement.
"Or maybe someone beat us to it, and it's just an empty husk." a sunburned sailor with a wrinkled nose snorted dismissively.
"Let's eat up and go check it out ourselves! Right, Captain?" another voice piped up, and the crew roared in agreement.
More food was brought out by the cook, and Captain Amard's tale continued, paired with the meal. He shared childhood memories, recounting the Four Flue docked at the harbor like he was flipping through the dusty pages of an old book. He spoke of the vivid memory of seeing a live siren—a beautiful woman with long hair, kept in a massive wooden tub filled with seawater. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back, trying to summon the scent from that day, but it remained elusive, buried too deep in the recesses of his mind.
*****
Later, the crew of the Viiosa climbed aboard the Four Flue. The ship's tilt made it hard to stand steady. After a brief order from Captain Amard—"Find anything valuable, and we'll split it"—the crew scattered to search the wreck.
"Hey, Diverte, where you headed?"
Asked a portly man with a friendly face. It was Denas, the ship's accountant, known for his warm demeanor. Everyone on the Viiosa considered him a friend, but despite his soft appearance, he was razor-sharp when it came to money, negotiating deals with the precision of a honed blade.
Diverte was scratching his head at the top of a staircase leading below deck.
"Not sure… This place looks like it's been abandoned forever. Some of these stairs seem kinda sketchy."
"Ha ha, let's go check it out! No signs of anyone else means there might be treasure waiting for us down there! Come on, I'll lead the way!"
Crack!
The torch in Denas's hand wavered as he descended the creaky stairs into the dark.
"You okay? Watch out, don't break a leg or something." Diverte called after him.
"I'm good! These legs are thick enough to hold up, no worries!"
Denas turned back with a grin, tossing a playful remark before continuing down the shadowy passage, the torch's red glow leading the way.
Suddenly, Denas stopped and sniffed the air.
"Hey, Diverte, come here. There's a nice smell coming from this room."
"A smell? …Oh, you're right. What's that? Flowers? Fruit?"
"Not sure… It's not quite floral… Or is it? Maybe flowers smell like this?"
Denas pushed aside a half-broken door, barely clinging to its frame, and stretched out his torch arm to illuminate the room. A strange, pleasant scent wafted out. Inside, a long table stood about waist-high, its thick legs looking like they'd been carved from a single massive tree trunk—probably to keep it steady on a rocking ship.
"A dining room? Nah, no chairs… Did the Four Flue crew eat standing up or what?"
"Doesn't seem like it… Plus, this table's weirdly tilted."
"Watch your step—the floor's slippery."
"Yeah, got it."
Denas stepped toward the massive table in the center of the room. The eerie atmosphere tightened their nerves, the silence so deep they could hear each other gulp.
"The smell's stronger here, right?"
Denas said, taking a long breath and glancing at Diverte.
"Hmm, yeah, I think so."
"Huh? What's this?" Denas leaned closer, noticing a dark stain on the table.
"Is this… blood?"
He crouched down to peer under the table, following the stain with his torch.
"What's up? Something under there?" Diverte asked, crouching beside him.
"Looks like… this might've been where they processed the sirens."
"Processed? What do you mean?"