The sea stretched smooth and still, too calm for comfort. Dawn broke like a slow bruise across the horizon as the sails caught wind, and Sawyer's ship — battle-worn, barely patched, but determined — creaked to life.
They were finally moving again.
Below deck, the crew worked in steady silence, checking weapons, rationing what little they had scavenged. The air was heavy with anticipation. Everyone knew they'd be heading into Spanish waters soon. Another fight was inevitable — but this time, they'd be ready.
Up on deck, Syrena stood near the bow, wind teasing loose strands of her hair. In her palm, hidden from sight, was the small golden coin she'd taken years ago — the one that had cursed her, the one that had cost her everything. The weight of it was nothing compared to the burden it carried.
She slipped it back into the pouch tied to her waist.
She couldn't afford distraction. Not now.
Footsteps approached behind her. Sawyer.
"We'll hit the outer coast by sundown," he said, his tone firm, all business. "Smaller patrols out there. If we're lucky, we'll get close without drawing fire."
Syrena nodded, keeping her voice steady. "And if we're not?"
He smirked. "Then we do what we always do. Improvise and cause hell."
A brief silence passed. She could feel his eyes on her, searching her face like he was trying to read something that wasn't being said.
"You alright?" he asked.
"Of course," she replied too quickly.
He didn't buy it — but he didn't press either.
Sawyer turned to go, then paused. "Back when we were at the smuggler camp… you said you had something you wanted to tell me. You never did."
Syrena stiffened.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. The words danced on the edge of her tongue. I'm not just a woman. I'm cursed. I'm the Siren's heir. Everything I am — everything you see — it's a lie I'm trying to hold together.
But all she said was, "It can wait."
He gave a slow nod, unreadable. "Alright."
She forced a smile and added, "Worried about me, Captain?"
His lips twitched. "No more than I worry about a cannon misfiring in my face."
"Charming," she muttered, turning away.
As he walked off, she watched his retreating form — sturdy, stubborn, brave. And still so unaware.
The truth would come out soon enough.
Just… not today.
Above them, the clouds were gathering. In the distance, a line of smoke marked something burning on the water.
They weren't far from the Spaniards now.