Danger on Troubled Waters: Captain Aloysius Thad

"Captain, what do you do when you're not ferrying people around? That is..." Young raised an eyebrow in the Captain's direction as he leaned over the railing, sea mist wet on his face. "...you don't mind my asking."

The Captain returned the boy's raised eyebrow with one of his own and then with a pointed stare turned his gaze toward the waters of Baylor's Bay, churned into a frothy head as his ship cut along the coast. "Nothing more than ensuring safe passage for other travelers."

"Safe from Pirates?" Young watched the horizon, half hoping to see the massive hull of the Shoal Skulker, an infamous pirate ship of the days when the Wharf Brats ruled the docks of Lower Wikkam.

Captain Thad laughed, "No, lad, Sirens. I hunt Sirens."

"What? Ocean Pearls?" Young asked with a sneer. "You're joking."

"No, I mean Sea Sirens. They're nothing like girls. They may look innocent enough; maybe even exotic with their scales and bird-like wings, but they are more dangerous than any tempest storm."

"What do you do once you trap 'em?" Young asked. He knew of a delicacy which only required the fin of the fish and the rest of it was thrown, alive, back to the ocean to die. Was that what Captain Thad did to the Sirens? Sounded barbaric, maybe even a tad cannibalistic. Could Sirens be considered human?

Shaking his head the Captain said, "I sell their scalps."

Young gave the captain a double take. His innards squirmed after the Captain admitted to scalping Sirens. Young tried to remember one of the stories he had heard about the reclusive creatures. It was more of a song when he thought about it. How did it go? Beauty crashing amongst the waves, soulful - mournful promises made? He wasn't sure, but the song never mentioned Sirens as being monstrous creatures of the deep. If anything it waxed poetic about their beauty and charms.

"What do Sirens look like, Captain? Do they look anything like the stories describe 'em?" Young asked, his eyes drawn back toward the waters slapping against the side of the ship.

Captain Thad called out to the Dragons Nest, a basket nestled at the top of the tallest beam of the ship, where the smallest and usually the youngest member hunkered down searching the skies and water for trouble.

Captain Thad was given the all clear and turned his attention back to Young. "That is a question you might end up regretting, lad."

Young watched a cloud pass over Captain Thad's face while they stood, unmoving, amongst the bustle of the crew. Young took the opportunity to study the tall, swarthy skinned mariner whom he had come to trust. This was a man who would definitely stick out in a crowd, not as a mark to take advantage of, no, but a man to watch.

The Captain didn't blend into his surroundings like most people did. Usually a sign of confidence, or it could be he'd been around long enough he just didn't care. Young was sure of the former. Captain Thad was definitely comfortable in his own bark. Not that he could easily hide in a crowd with his mostly white hair with an ebony streak above his left ear or the flamboyant colored scarves knotted at his hip where the hilt of his saber made a subtle appearance through the cloth.

Young placed Captain Thad on the list of people to remember, and when Captain Thad began to talk, Young listened. "Sirens look like beautiful maidens, yes. They have arms and legs, of course, but the difference, my boy, from other maidens is that they have soft scales covering their bodies and downy wings protrude from their backs. They lose some of their humanity in their face. Their eyes resemble large pearls and it's hard to tell what is hair and what is seaweed." Captain Thad caught Young with his serious gaze and continued, "It is not their beauty one has to worry about, it's their voice. It is their voice that harkens men to their doom."

Captain Thad's head jerked up and his voice cut off abruptly. At that moment a blow horn could be heard from the Dragon's Nest and the sailors stopped their chores and stood like one listening. Captain Thad bellowed orders and turned to Young grabbing his arm.

"You are about to discover Sirens first hand, boy. Pull out your flute and show me what you can do with it! It's why I hired you on my ship." Captain Thad shoved Young in the direction of the bow. Stumbling forward, Young heard a faint, breathy chorus of feminine voices out at sea.

His fingers shook as he disentangled the simple wooden flute from among the mass of items clinging to the strap he used as a belt. Normally, he would have his kit scattered over his person; hidden in various pockets or wrapped in the leather strips covering his forearms and shins. He cursed his wretched choice of trying to 'appear' like a common traveling minstrel. What was he thinking?

Oh, yeah, to fit in. That's right. Rolling his eyes at himself, Young Brighten fumbled his way to the bow of the ship, fighting through the organized chaos around him. Fighting the persistent chorus of voices growing stronger in a rising dirge. The message's meaning quite clear, "Come swim with us. Come perish with us."

Young felt a rush of lightheadedness hit him, he stumbled almost losing his grip on the flute. The chorus was reaching a terrible crescendo. Looking back where he last saw Captain Thad directing his men through their tasks, he found him standing unmoving like a rock in a windstorm his strange grey, gold eyes staring directly at him.

Finding a strength in those eyes, Young felt the lightheadedness fade and he was able to once again stand straight. A couple burly men stood near the Captain. One was arranging a net while the other sharpened a wicked blade with a slightly curved tip. Knowing what they were preparing for, Young turned away to confront the crescent shaped stem of the ship.

Wedging his feet between the open spaces between the planks of wood forming the crescent, Young closed his eyes. Directly in front of him was the ship figurehead. Its wings clung to either side of the bow, her seaweed encrusted hair fanned out behind her, and even though he couldn't see the scales he knew they were carved with great attention over the entire wooden body.

He wished he had been more mindful of the ship's mascot, it may have been a clue as to its purpose. Yeah, and he could also read the future in bird bones, he thought sulkily to himself.

He took a deep breath, and brought the flute to his lips. Sending a prayer up to his mother, may she be sleeping in the comforting arms of the Mourning Goddess, Ciel, for he may join her this eve, he began to play. He didn't try to play a specific tune or melody, he played from his gut. The will to survive drove the air from his lungs through the pipe. He played to drown out the song of the Sirens.

He was unaware of the commotion behind him until a firm hand on his shoulder and an equally calm voice said at his back, "It is done, lad. You did well."

Chancing a peek behind him, he saw lying on the deck a mass of limp what appeared to be seaweed. Choking, he bent over the side of the ship and wretched.