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Fantasy 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙣. - [1𝙭1]

calypso

calypso

fairest
cold and dying.
sybil
To say that the ocean was an unkind and merciless being would be unfair to the wieldy beast. Though it was to never truly be tamed, the waves were willing to guide men across the winding sea. To give them safe passage to other lands and to provide an escape for those in less than ideal situations.

The ocean, however, had no control over the beasts that lived within it. It could not stop the relentless bloodlust of what lurked beneath its own waves, itching for just a glimpse of a wooden bow. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and bring another innocent soul deep into the icy water to join them eternally.

๋࣭ ⭑

Sybil had never been cold in her life. Although the sea tried its best to chill her to the bones, she had never even once felt a shiver in her life.

Of course, until this very moment.

Staring up at the stars above her, Sybil could only let a small and pathetic puff of air as she floated among the dark waves. Her entire body was violently shaking, assaulted with a sensation she had never experienced once in her life. Make no mistake, she had seen what the cold can do to humans. She had watched their lips turning lip and teeth chatter and chatter until they stopped moving all together, but she had always taken a silent delight in their inability to survive. Humans needed warmth to survive, and they desperately sought after it no matter what.

It was also true that Sybil had never been warm in her life. What being craves warmth, when their entire existence was as frigid as their hearts?

Letting out another weak gasp of air, Sybil couldn’t even bring herself to raise her fingers over her eyes. Part of her wondered if they were losing color, but it hardly mattered. She had lost feeling in them long ago, though she could still very painfully feel the legs that now bobbled in front of her.

If her mother had intended for her to die in the most humiliating way possible, this was certainly working.

Shutting her eyes slowly, the siren could feel the weight of the water against them. How heavy every aspect of her painfully human body felt at the moment, and just how soon she’d lose her ability to drift on top of the waves. When her body did finally sink beneath the surface, part of her was a bit curious to what might happen to it. Will a mermaid attempt to swallow her whole in a weak attempt to become human once more, or will another siren parade her head and legs around the castle? How many sirens would screech in joy at the sight of her lifeless eyes, shrieking that the Princess was dead and human.

“F-F-fuck…” Sybil shivered out, a small gasp of pain following shortly after as a spike of cold seeped deeper into her stomach. She wouldn’t even get the honor of turning to foam, returning to the sea like all the others.

She was to die as a pathetic fucking human, all to the delight of her mother.

Bitch.

๋࣭ ⭑

The ocean was not unkind. For when it saw a siren who had lost her voice and her tail, it drifted her motionless body towards the ship of the one man she sought to kill.

Perhaps something exciting would happen.
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coded by reveriee.
 
an auspicious sign, on a night such as this...
knox.
freshly stocked up from a weekend stop at his favorite trading port in the southern hemisphere, captain knox foreman took a long, cathartic swig of black spice rum as he leaned back in his cushioned desk chair, leisurely kicking up his feet as he geared up to read the latest letter from his older sister, the crown princess of the kingdom of salona:

may this latter find you well, dear cecil,

i am writing to you with hopes that your travels have yielded what you have so desperately yearned for all this time, as well as with news of our faction's progress in overturning the hazardous mining proposal you once brought to the attention of the parliament. while i idle away here twiddling my thumbs like a sitting duck under father's watchful gaze, waiting for that damned secretary of energy resources to take his final step into his grave before making my next move, the nobles have already begun to organize in the nighttime hours.

their efforts will be futile, of course, an obvious fact they will learn by the time dawn arrives anew. stefan has already purged the stronghold you identified during your last visit and retrieved the ledger we will use to prove their corruption. soon, this mining nonsense that has been tearing apart our homeland will cease to operate once and for all.

do remain vigilant, however— you know quite well that i will always support your right to an untethered life, but i refuse to bear the thought of losing my only little brother to a steel round, much less to the murky depths you seem so fond of.

always with love,
— your sister amelia

knox slid his booted feet off the mahogany desk as he finished reading the wax-sealed letter, furrow creasing his brow as he parsed each careful word for any hidden meanings between the lines. all correspondence leaving the palace was usually heavily monitered by the king's men under potential suspicion of treason, so how was amelia able to write to him with such vivid detail regarding her faction's movements? she must not have sent it from within the palace this time, or at least not through her ordinary maids, which could only mean—

"sir, we have a problem, a real big one!"
the anxious cry of knox's navigation expert, leena, derailed whatever train of thought had been picking up steam in the captain's head, bringing his attention back to the present as he sheathed his dagger and followed her back to the upper deck. he arrived on the scene just as several crew members struggled to heave one of their fishing nets back on board, barking orders at each other over what looked suspiciously like a human body between the mesh.

knox sauntered over and leaned down to get a proper look at the entangled stranger they'd rescued from the icy waves, noting the discoloration in her nearly translucent skin from the freezing temperatures below.
"where did you find her?"
he asked rafael, who'd been anxiously pacing the deck since spotting her by chance moments prior.

"she was just floating on the water like a sad piece of kelp when i found her,"
the first mate began pitifully, eyes flicking back and forth in confusion.
"i looked over the starboard side rail and she was just there, i'm serious! as for how she got this far out from shore or how she's survived so long, fuck if i kn—"


"i reckon we ask her once she's regained her wits, yeah?"
knox interrupted, sparing the crew from any more of rafael's messy anxious rambling. he turned his attention back to the ensnared woman, sopping orange hair splayed out beneath her naked body like a setting sun, and unsheathed his dagger to begin cutting her loose from the net. once the material had mostly been cleared away from her upperbody save for the few strips binding her legs and hips in place, knox lightly cleared away the woman's hair from her eyes in hopes she'd regain some lucidity under the illuminating moonlight.
"hey, can you hear me? you're safe, don't worry. i'm knox, the captain of this ship. can you sit up?"



coded by reveriee.
 
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cold and dying.
sybil
Accepting her own death had been an easy thing for Sybil, at least in the moment. The fragility of humans had been drilled into her head from the moment she could swim. For all intents and purposes at the moment, Sybil was indeed human. There was no point in attempting to fight her death; The wise humans went down without a struggle. Accepted their own mortality and uselessness in the grand scheme of things.

Not that she found herself useless. She was simply in an unpredictable situation that was currently leading to an overall very pathetic demise.

Unable to even open her eyes at this point, Sybil was left to listen to the roar in her ears. It certainly wasn’t the ocean, for her mother had made sure it would remain calm on this night. It would be no fun for her daughter to drown quickly in the waves; It was far more entertaining to watch her shiver and whimper against new sensations till her freshly human heart simply gave out. No, the roar in her ear was something else. Maybe it was her own blood rushing desperately from limb to limb to keep them alive, or her heart screaming in pain at the thought of beating.

Another weak breath escaped her lips, and the human woman stilled in the water.

This sort of darkness wasn’t something Sybil had experienced before. She was always close to death through her own actions, but it was never her own. No, this darkness was different than anything she had ever felt in her life. It was clotting and choking, threatening to steal away her weakening breath. Strong enough to override her senses, leaving Sybil unaware of the world around.

It was in this barely conscious state that her body was hauled up from the freezing sea like the prized catch of the day, only for her to be deposited on the deck among what felt like hundreds of whispering voices. Perhaps this is what humans felt after they died; A engulfing darkness and disembodied voices one could never quite make out. Certainly a worse fate than turning into seafoam, she reckoned.

Yet the voices hushed themselves at the sound of footsteps approaching, and Sybil became mutely aware of the netting that caught her being cut away. At least, some of it. Her legs were still bound, but the feeling was almost comforting among the hundreds of new and unpleasant things she had already experienced tonight. For just a moment, it felt like her tail had returned.

As Sybil readied herself to fully perish on the deck of the ship, she found herself rudely interrupted the feeling of a hand brushing against her cheeks, and a familiar voice ringing out.

“...can you hear me? you're safe, don't worry. i'm the captain of this ship, knox. can you sit up?"

Like lightning striking the sea, Sybil lurched upward and heaved. Nothing but saltwater came out, but violent and shaking coughs overtook her body as water dripped from her lips. Her hand reached up to clench at her chest, her nails curling inward in an attempt to rip out the overwhelming feeling of choking. Everything burned, but something far worse sat in front of her.

Slowly shifting her eyes upward, Sybil locked her gaze on the Captain lowered down before her. A dagger was still in one of his hands, and it was obvious that he had been the one freeing her from the bindings. An idiotic mistake on his end. Had he also dared to lay a single hand upon her face?

A snarl overtook Sybil’s features, and in an instant she lunged her body forward and directly into Knox. Though her legs were still bound, the hissing and coughing woman began to both slash and slap at the Captain, unable to form any other sounds besides a guttural groan.

Seems like she wasn’t dead after all. Instead, she just wanted him dead.
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coded by reveriee.
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it's not too late to throw her back overboard...
knox.
the captain's breath caught in his throat as the mysterious woman suddenly lurched forward, clawing at her own neck in her efforts to hack up the seawater flooding her lungs. 'thank god.' she wasn't dead just yet, which meant he could get some answers from her before she potentially kicked the bucket.

knox's relief lasted no longer than that fading thought, however, as the woman lunged at his chest with a sudden vigor upon locking gazes with him. though she remained partially immobilized with her lower body still caught up in the net, she swung at him with an unprecedented deftness, each slash deliberate and passionate as though nothing else mattered but tearing into the man before her.

"what the fu— raf!"
as the captain fell backwards against the deck's wooden planks from the sheer force of her initial attack, his crew snapped themselves out of their shocked stupor and urgently rushed to his aid. the tussle lasted far longer than it should have for a woman of her stature approaching death's door just a moment prior, but the deckhands eventually succeeded in prying her arms away from knox's body with their combined strength despite her rabid, unpredictable movements.

though the shallow gashes along his neck and face where the leather of his attire didn't reach stung profusely, knox paid them no mind and instantly jumped back to his feet to stride over to where the crew struggled to restrain her in their grasp. no longer assed to respect her autonomy, he leaned down, balled a fist in her damp mop of auburn hair, and yanked her head back, pressing the fine edge of his dagger against the pale skin of her exposed throat to deter any further snapping should she feel the urge. there was no mistaking the vicious look in her piercing, crystalline eyes, a look he was far too familiar with as a well-renowned heir to the throne.

this woman wasn't targeting just anyone— she was out to get him.

"who sent you?"
knox growled, eyes narrowing in suspicion as he pressed the blade harder against her neck, holding back just enough to not pierce skin. though any commoner on the streets of salona would instantly clear the path at the sight of first prince cecil asquith piermont, his visage shouldn't have been recognizable to foreigners as anyone other knox foreman, captain of the flagship indira of an armed trade fleet from the north. what business could such a fiery, nonverbal woman have with a man like that?
"you seem to know me well enough to want to kill me, yet i've never laid eyes on you before in my life— you'd better find some way to explain yourself, fast."

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coded by reveriee.
 
his blood coated her nails.
sybil
For just a brief moment, Sybil was herself again. She was claws and fangs and fury, spitting and hissing with no end in sight to her rampage. She could feel her nails digging into the skin of the Captain below her, the ringing in her ears blocking out any desperate yells he made to his crewmates. It didn’t matter, he was flesh and blood and she was the ocean and power and -

Without even a moment of hesitation, the Captain’s subordinates were gripping her now painfully delicate arms and ripping her away from her prize. A guttural scream sounded from deep within Sybil, a noise she had never even considered herself able to make. She wanted to thrash and kick and rip them apart, but the fleeting moment of energy she had experienced upon seeing the Captain was slowly fading away from her blood. Instead, she was left with a tired ache and a pounding in her skull, threatening to break through the bone and spill her hot blood across the deck. The deckhands barely had to exert strength once she was pulled back, the naked woman unable to even hold her head up in mere seconds of her removal from the Captain.

It seems she didn’t need to bother with her strength however, as she soon heard the stomping of boots as the Captain regained his wits and marched over. A beat later, and she hissed in pain as a fistful of hair was gathering in his hand, her head wretched upward to gaze at the man she had just been attacking. Superficial lacerations marked his face and neck, and her eyes briefly darted down to his chest. It was clothed, but she wondered if the wound she left upon him years ago had scarred. If her mark had been permanently etched upon him, claiming him and reminding him of how close he was to death.

Her gaze didn’t linger very long, and she was instead soon confronted with the unfamiliar cold sensation of a blade across her neck. Another weak hiss of pain sounded from Sybil as she attempted to adjust her head in his grip, hoping to loosen some hair away to avoid the growing sting upon her scalp. How pathetic it was, to try and twist away from pain. It was no use, of course. Two men were gripping her arms into place, her legs were bound, and the Captain of this hideous vessel was staring her down with eyes as intense as her own.

The blade pressed harder, and Sybil could only raise her chin up a bit and keep her eyes on the Captain as he barked out questions. The foolish man thought someone had sent her to kill him; Perhaps it wouldn’t have been a bad plan if true. No chivalrous man would expect a naked and weaponless woman to be his own doom. And truthfully, until just a little bit ago, Sybil was a weapon.

Now she was just human.

Slowly, her tongue dragged across her cold lips. Before, Sybil had never truly bothered to gaze upon the Captain’s face. He was certainly handsome as far as humans go. Tall, with hair as dark as her mothers own tentacles. His eyes were a shade of brown unknown to the siren race; Yet they were still just as striking as any other color.

His heart would be perfect for her collection.

A smile slowly spread across Sybil’s lips, and she let out a low but rough laugh. It was teetering on the edge of being a full blown coughing fit, but the woman was able to swallow the urge lest she cough right into his blade. When her lips parted, her voice was low and barely above a whisper. Her tongue was heavy, as if the language she spoke had previously been of no use to her in life.

“Prince of Nothing…” She drawled out, before grinning once. Her consciousness was once again slipping away, the pounding in her head becoming too much to bear.

Yet before she fully passed out once again, Sybil left Knox with one last surprise.

She spat on his face.
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coded by reveriee.
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quite the fruitful voyage this has been so far...
knox.
"prince of nothing..."


as if the horrifyingly slow, knowing smile spreading across the woman's cherry lips wasn't enough to set off every alarm in the captain's brain, her following words confirmed the extent of her knowledge towards his true identity. not only did she recognize him as the first prince, she was hostile towards him because of that very title.

knox narrowed his eyes in suspicion and cocked his head to the side as he surveyed her fragile disposition, so delicate yet harboring bottomless malice, but just as his lips parted to interrogate her further on the true meaning of those eerie words, the vile woman spewed a disrespectful glob of spittle at his left cheek before daring to lose consciousness.

silence fell over the deck as knox blinked once, twice, shocked into stillness as he attempted to process what had just occurred. this forgotten leftover of a woman mostly definitely hadn't just spit at him, surely not? the crew watched on with wide eyes and bated breath as he used a handkerchief to wipe the offending liquid from his face without a word, grimacing at the putrid color against the ivory fabric. just how long had she been drifting out at sea for her hygiene to deteriorate so? the myriad of questions in his brain only seemed to grow the longer he pondered their present circumstances, but the night hours were meant for rest, and his crew had been inconvenienced long enough with this odd predicament.

"chain her to the mast,"
knox commanded, vague concern in his gaze hardly bleeding into his guarded tone. there was never room for leniency as a royal prince, should that careless trust return to him down the line in the form of an ornamental dagger in his back.
"leena, find the nearest trading port that's still open. we'll make a detour to hand this lady over to the local authorities— it's best we wipe our hands of her now before we get too involved."


"yes, sir!"



— —​

while the rest of the crew retired to their cots to salvage whatever few hours of sleep remained before the morning sunlight pried their eyelids apart once more, knox changed into his heaviest fur and made himself comfortable on the top deck, having opted to take the first shift in keeping an eye on the unconscious woman so the others could get some well-deserved shut eye. leena and rafael joined him not too long after, the three of them poring over cartographical prints and regional history books in hopes of gaining some insight into the identity of their unnamed stowaway.

"our tongue was foreign to her, heavily-accented but not like the osteinians we'd expect out here,"
rafael mused, tapping the tip of his fountain pen against his lips as he crossed his legs on the rum keg he was seated on.
"we're not too far from udrar, right? maybe she's a refugee from ascye that ran away from the dragro shelter in the theut plains— you know how inhumanely they treat refugees in udrar... i wouldn't be surprised if she chased you down to avenge her homeland or something."


leena hummed in acknowledgment of rafael's new theory, circular gold rims resting on the bridge of her nose reflecting the flickering lamplight that illuminated their humble workspace.
"it wasn't too long ago that the ascynians surrendered their lands to salona, so that's very plausible. the only issue, though, is that she looks nothing like them at all, not even vaguely. have you ever heard of an ascynian with red hair? they'd burn her at the stake before she could utter her first words."


as fanciful ideas and makeshift hypotheticals ebbed and flowed between them over mugs of stout on the rickety mahogany table, knox tossed a cursory glance towards their captive to make sure nothing was awry only to notice her shivering violently in the nighttime temperatures. one of the deckhands had draped a thin blanket around her sleeping form as a preemptive layer of protection against the chill, but it hardly seemed to be enough now that the bitter autumn cold settled deep into her bones.

"i think we should move her down to the cargo hold,"
leena's gentle voice interrupted knox's train of thought, her knowing dark irises meeting his own as though peering right through him.
"she's shaking like a leaf, poor thing."


"yeah, you're right,"
knox murmured, gaze locked back onto the enigmatic woman as all the multiplying curiosities from earlier returned to swirl around his fatigued brain yet again. her identity remained a mystery to him and his crew, but they'd glean no further information if she perished at the hands of the elements before they could probe any deeper.

the captain stood from the table and leisurely stretched his limbs before sauntering over to the unconscious woman, taking his time to properly analyze her motionless face now that she wasn't making an attempt on his life. though her complexion remained pallid at best, there was no mistaking her stark beauty, a captivating aesthetic rare even to the prince who'd travelled far and wide throughout his entire life. he began to carefully unshackle her wrists from the mast, gentle in his movements so as not to startle her awake and risk another glob of spit to the face.

"wait, captain,"
rafael's voice suddenly sounded from the quarter deck where he'd left to do his usual rounds.
"i think there's something in the net! it's thrashing up a storm down there—"


sure enough, the sudden telltale screech of a siren sounded through the crisp air, rattling their eardrums as it announced its harrowing presence. no other explanation remained necessary for the seasoned crew than that shrill call, and leena immediately jumped into action, scooping up their study materials for safekeeping and running below deck to alert the others of their catch.

"pull her up!"
knox ordered, quickly shimmying off his fur coat to drape around the captive woman before joining the fray himself. standard protocol for salonian hunter fleets regarding the treatment of sirens dictated that it was to be exterminated upon capture with no exceptions. on the indira, however, the merciful prince offered them a chance for survival: offer up all information about the queen or the artifact he'd been searching for, and at most they'd only have their tongues cut out— a relatively small price to pay in return for leaving with their lives intact.

so far, thirty-three out of thirty-four of them had chosen death.
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coded by reveriee.
 
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it seems a reunion is in order...
sybil
Under the waning moon aboard the Indira, Sybil dreamt of death.

When sirens slept under the crashing waves, in the shingles of the sand below, they did not dream. It served no purpose to the deadly beings, to fantasize about a life not lived. What could have been if they weren’t shackled to the sea, at the mercy of the Queen. Killing every man they saw, and contemplating the same fate for their fellow monsters.

Yet when Sybil slowly faded away from the world around her, vivid images overtook her mind.

At first, all she saw was the Captain’s face. It started out disgusted, the same visage he held only moments before she passed out. But the longer she stared at the unwavering image of Knox, the more he began to distort. His grimace turned to a frown, turned into a soundless scream. The grand tunic he wore began to drip and pool, as a dark red hue began to oversaturate the fabric.

She knew why he was bleeding so much. Though she didn’t take her gaze off the Prince, she could feel what he was missing clenched in her hands. It beat rapidly against her grip, struggling to break free and return to the man who so desperately needed it.

A smile slowly overtook Sybil’s features, and she raised the heart above her head to let the warm blood it spewed drip down upon her face. The warmth turned to scorching, and she could feel the burns blistering open upon her skin, but she didn’t stop. Someone was screaming, but she didn’t know if it was her or Knox.

With a start, Sybil jolted awake. Blinking lazily, she found herself unable to focus her gaze on just about anything in the dark of the night. A blurry lantern was being run across the deck, and a silent curse left Sybil’s lip at her stupid human eyes. No wonder they crashed into shit so often at night, this was impossible to function with.

Yet her eyes did begin to adjust to the darkness, alongside a new sensation on her body. In-fact, several things were currently new to Sybil.

Although the cold air still nipped at her nose and ears, her entire body was no longer threatening to collapse from the cold sting of the world around her. Instead, a heavily furred coat was draped across her body. She inhaled deeply, though her sense of smell was far more dampened than it had been ever before Yet she could still pick up a perfumed odor, no doubt originating from the owner of the item. It smelled...nice. Unlike anything under the sea.

Next, there was an ache in her wrist. Slowly, as if not to scare her own human body, Sybil raised her hand into her line of sight. It was still a shock to see; The webbing and scales that adorned her hand were now gone, and were instead replaced with freckled and delicate skin. Her claws had been filed down into blunt little nails, some of which were already broken from clawing away at the Captain. A bit of blood was caked under a few of them, and a small smile twisted over her lips for just a moment. It was quickly wiped away, however, when she took notice of the red markings on her wrist.

They had shackled her.

At least the Captain had made some sort of intelligent decision. However, it was also painfully obvious how not shackled Sybil was currently.

Which brought her to her final new sensation.

All around her, men and women were shouting. Boots were thumping across the deck as they ran, Sybil completely forgotten in the moment. She had never actually heard a human shout before; They always professed their love for her until their dying breath.

She had also never been ignored before.

A sharp exhale of pain left Sybil’s body as she attempted to move herself into a more proper position, but there was no idea to waste on silly things like that. Grunting out loudly, Sybil forced her two feet under herself. A hand found the mast behind her, and she began to drag herself up to a standing position. Humans made walking look so easy, and she had always laughed at their inability to swim with much of any skill in the water, at least compared to sirens.. However, she was silently cursing at her past ego as her legs threatened to shake and collapse under her own weight. Still, she held on strong to the mast with one arm and clung the fur coat around her with the other. Men continued to shout around her, and her eyes finally adjusted well enough to the dark to see what the commotion was about.

Across the deck, a siren spit and hissed in a steel-lined net. Her body thrashed against the barbs, causing spurts of acidic blood to drip upon the wood below her.

Sybil knew her.

With a newfound determination, the once-siren pushed her weight off the mast and began to stumble across the deck. Although she threatened to crash back down at every twist and turn to avoid the crew, she was rapidly gaining distance towards the siren and the Captain who stood nearby.

With one final and heavy step, Sybil nearly slammed into the back of Knox. Instead, however, she managed to veer to his left at the last moment. One hand shot out to grab his arm to steady herself, barely giving him a moment to register the contact before she was using him to support herself. Her other hand still held the coat around her lithe form, admittedly enjoying the warmth it brought her.

The siren continued to screech and hiss, but the sound suddenly died down the moment Sybil stood next to the Captain. The beast paled, her lips drawing back to reveal a set of quivering fangs. And then the whimpering came.


“P-Parakalo…Parakalo!” The siren begged out, her eyes nearly bulging from her head in an uncharacteristic manner. The language was one of the siren’s; And one that was lost on humans.

For many of the crew members, it appeared the siren was currently cowering at the appearance of Knox. But Sybil knew better.

The siren was begging for her life, and not from him. Instead, the siren was begging for Sybil to spare her. For her princess to let her go.

Sybil only scoffed, before tilting her head at the siren.

Her name was Vasiliki, and she was an annoying bitch. On more than one occasion did Sybil purposefully antagonize her, for whatever reason she had thought of at the time. During one incident, she smashed a piece of rock so hard into the side of her head that Vasiliki lost her entire ear. She couldn’t exactly remember what prompted the attack, but it hardly mattered now. The spot was still scarred over now on her, leaving a pathetic lump instead of a luminous finned ear.

Opening her lips, Sybil spoke.

“Ti ilíthios na se piásoun. Sou axízei ó, ti i moíra apofasísei gia séna. den lypámai," She hissed out, the words flowing over her tongue far easier than her short sentence only a bit ago. The siren balked at her words, before hissing back and spitting out a series of words in response. Sybil only cocked her head in response, before shifting her gaze up to Knox as she still clung to his arm. Clearly, she didn’t see an issue in fully speaking a completely unknown language to humans.

“She is begging for her life. Perhaps you should cut her other ear off and see how much more she’ll cower.”
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coded by reveriee.
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finally, silence, at long last...
knox.
while the trapped siren hissed and squealed in her native language, writhing inside the confines of the net as though her impending death loomed just below, knox startled ever-so-slightly at the sudden hand on his arm, nearly turning his dagger on the captive woman as her unexpected presence appeared by his side until she parted her lips and began to speak.

the foreign words spilled from her tongue effortlessly like a trickling stream atop smooth mountain pebbles, each unfamiliar consonant raising more and more questions in the captain's head as his eyes opened wide in shock. how was this woman so fluent in the language of the sirens, incomprehensible to mankind yet as natural as the tides to her? they were conversing, communicating freely before him for the first time known to humanity, a historic feat he'd never dreamt to be possible, much less witnessing firsthand.

despite the absurdity and wonder of it all, the experienced captain's problem-solving brain kicked into first gear as he shifted to properly support the woman's weight while she spoke to the siren, his burly arm snaking around her waist to prop her up against his side to allievate the bruising grip on his arm. though her fingers remained icy to the touch, the fur coat seemed to have helped her regain her bearings against the biting ocean wind.

“she is begging for her life. perhaps you should cut her other ear off and see how much more she’ll cower.”


knox's brow furrowed at that suggestion, still unsure of how they'd arrived at this point as the indira's crew watched on in anticipation of the captain's next move. he didn't have long to ponder the situation, however, as multiple pairs of eyes landed on him to determine the siren's fate. on one hand, he could nip this danger in the bud and return to the other pressing issues on hand; on the hand, there was no telling when the next opportunity to converse with such a deadly being in this manner would ever come about, if at all. unfortunately for the deckhands wishing to return to bed as early as possible, the answer was a no-brainer to the captain.

he nodded in understanding and stepped forward, tugging the woman in his grasp along with him should he need her translation services. at the same time, he sheathed his dagger to free up his hand and unfolded a yellowing piece of paper from his pocket no larger than a pocket square with a hastily drawn sketch and unreadable notes scrawled onto it, evidently by a hand unfamiliar with the pen.

"you beg for your life, do you?"
knox began, eyebrow raised in suspicion as he probed the siren for answers related to the artifact he'd spent the last several years searching for.
"tell me all you know about this item, and you may leave with your life intact."


the siren screeched in protest upon examining the contents of the paper, tail writhing restlessly and eyes bulging in disbelief at the information one of her kin seemed to have willingly given up. she hissed and growled at the captain, distrust welling in her unnatural pupils as she glared at him from within the net. whatever was written seemed to have set every alarm bell in her brain— not that he could decipher it himself.

while leena yelped in surprise at the sudden provocation, knox watched on silently, observing her panicked movements and pocketing the paper to retrieve his dagger once more.
"you need not trust my word,"
he urged, voice low and serious as he let go of the woman and took another step forward.

instead of pointing the dagger at the siren, he cut a long slice across his own palm, coating the dagger in his rich, scarlet blood in preparation for what was to come next. should the siren choose to spill the information he desired, feeding her his blood would serve as a binding oath to honor his word in preserving her life; should she choose otherwise, however, a blow to her heart with a dagger coated in her victim's blood would prove to be no less than fatal for the struggling creature.

"you were lucky to latch onto my ship instead of my father's,"
knox goaded further, pointing his ornate dagger towards the siren at long last.
"he would've plucked out your eyeballs the moment you started squawking. now choose— this may be the last choice you ever make."


despite his best efforts, the siren remained unbudging in her stubbornness, aqua eyes narrowing in malice as she huffed in defiance. 'figures. oh, well, then.' before the thought could even fully form in his brain, however, a clawed hand snuck through the mesh of the net and swiped at the captain, just barely grazing his chest and tearing the collar of his shirt before she swung out of reach once again.

unfazed by the expected attack, knox wasted no time in subduing the threat now that negotiations had fallen through, yanking her back towards him and plunging the dagger directly into the siren's heart before she could do any more damage to him or his crew. immediately, a horrifying screech sounded from the siren's dying lungs, rattling their eardrums and vibrating the humid air as her body dissolved into seafoam before their very eyes.

a solemn silence overcame the crew in the wake of the siren's dying screams, another failure in acquiring information to add to the already lengthy report on their findings waiting back in the office. none of the passengers on the indira particularly cared to interrogate sirens in this way, mainly being comprised of humble salonians with families and homes to return to once their voyage was complete, but the coppery taste of death coating their tongues was a flavor they could never grow accustomed to no matter how many inhuman lives they took— they hadn't signed up to be hunters in the first place.

knox cleared his throat and turned to face the woman struggling to stand on her own once more, arms crossed in a lazy attempt to hide the blood dripping from his palm.
"so you can speak,"
he mused, tensed jaw the only indication of his irritation towards her in spite of the saccharine smile on his lips. the dagger remained in his grasp until the deckhands rushed forward to apprehend her again, her presence still a threat so long as she roamed unshackled around his crew members.
"you sure have a lot of explaining to do, don't you— your name, what is it?"

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coded by reveriee.
 
care to make a deal?
sybil
If Sybil had not approached the Captain herself for support, his arm would certainly be detached from his body. At the very least, a few fingers would be gone as a warning to never touch her again. However, Sybil had no strength in her aching and cold bones. Her body was still shaking with every rattle of the harsh winds around them, and though the Captain’s fur coat was helping stave off some of the chill, there was no denying how deeply it sunk into her flesh and unsteadied her knees.

So she allowed him to wrap an arm around her waist to support her, barely resisting the urge to hurl whatever remained currently in her gut. Without a word, he tugged her closer to Vasiliki. The siren had gone still upon hearing Sybil’s threat, unaware of just how weak she truly was at the moment. She did, however, dart her eyes to the close contact between the human and the Princess of the Sea, and Sybil could see the gears visibly working in her mediocre brain.

It was a good thing Vasiliki was dying tonight. Either by the hands of the Captain, or Sybil herself.

Not daring to say another word at the moment, Sybil instead rotated her piercing gaze to the Captain as he fished around his pocket with his now free hand, realizing that she had failed to see him sheathe his dagger. For a moment, thoughts flooded her head. To leap on him and bite his throat. To claw at his chest until it was a bloody mess and his heart laid in the center. To snatch his dagger away and plunge it deep into his gut so he had time to think about his own demise while she watched.

But she didn't move an inch. Her eyelids only narrowed to the smallest degree upon seeing the paper he was currently showing his captive siren. Vasiliki looked upon the hastily drawn image for only a second before screeching out, her entire body thrashing and straining as if she was just burned.

“To máti! Xérei gia to Máti, prinkípissa! Pródoses ti Vasílissa, pródoses ti Thálassa!” Vasiliki screamed out to Sybil, but the woman didn’t react as her eyes settled on the aging paper. It was crudely drawn, and meant nothing to the majority of the humans in the world. However, it was everything to the sirens below the dark waves.

The Eye of Calypso. The other Eye. The one hidden away from sirens on the highest peak in their lands, where no siren could ever crawl.

Sybil barely curled her lips back in disgust at the thought of a siren giving up that information to the humans. Whoever they were, they were long dead by now. To betray such a secret to their Kingdom…They’d turn to sea foam the moment they touched the sea. It didn’t shock Sybil that Vasiliki seemed to be choosing the option of death over facing her Mother. She’d choose it too, if it was an option at the moment.

The Captain didn’t seem to notice the subtle shift in her features; In-fact, he had completely ignored Sybil the moment he had managed to slip an arm around her. And now that arm was slipping away, taking the support she had so desperately needed. Stumbling for just a moment, Sybil moved to bend her knees in an attempt to stay upright. It worked for the moment, but a light shove would send her tumbling back down to the ground. About to hiss an insult out to the Captain for so rudely abandoning her, she instead held her tongue as he moved to slice his own palm.

Blood immediately trailed his ornate blade, and for a moment Sybil swore she could smell it. Rich and full, bubbling to life on the very hand that held her a moment ago. It was far more than the meager amount she had managed to draw with her own nails a bit ago, and she could feel herself salivating at the thought of it all. Of raising his palm to her lips and drinking until she couldn’t anymore, until he collapsed on the ground. How much more of it she’d earn once his heart was in her possession.

Snapping herself away from those thoughts, Sybil instead narrowed her eyes at Vasiliki. While she was certainly an idiot in the eyes of Sybil, she clearly didn’t view herself as a traitor. There was a reason she had spoken to Sybil in their language once again; Those words were never meant to be privy to human ears. His weak goads seem to land for a moment, as if Vasiliki was contemplating spilling all their secrets here and now in a pathetic attempt to save her own life. However, Sybil knew far better. She could see Vasiliki tense up for only a moment, her muscles coiling themselves into position. She was about to attack the Captain.

Without a second more to consider the repercussions of letting him die here and now, Sybil could only watch with slightly widened eyes as Vasiliki launched herself forward at the Captain. She didn’t get far, and only a clawed hand managed to scrape at his neck. It swung back in an instant as Vasiliki readied herself for another lunge, but it never came.

In the blink of an eye, the Captain had yanked Vasiliki back towards him and plunged the dagger directly into her heart. Her cold blood immediately seeped out, and the shriek that shook the moment nearly made Sybil lose her balance again.

Just like that, Vasiliki was dead. Her body gave not even a twitch as it began to foam, starting at her clawed fingertips and ending at her chest. Bits of the bubbling material clung to the blade which had killed her, but they were already popping and floating away on the wind.

Sirens did not mourn the loss of their own kin. When they died, another was born in their place. Forged from the foam they so desperately avoided turning into.

Yet for once in her life, Sybil had a sour taste in her mouth upon seeing death. Her lips curved downward in a frown, but she didn’t get more than a few seconds to consider the situation before two more sets of gruff hands were gripping her arms and hauling her forward. A weak and pathetic noise fumbled from her throat, and her legs had all but given out under her. She was left dangling between the two deckhands.

It seems the Captain wished to pay attention to her again.

“You sure have a lot of explaining to do, don't you— your name, what is it?" he asked her, an expectant look upon his features. Though he was attempting to exude a smile at the moment, she could see the tensity stringed in his jaw. Blood was still dripping from his hand, though he was currently hiding the wound through the act of crossing his arms.

Licking her lips slowly, Sybil only had two desires at the moment. To get a bit warmer, and to get far closer to the Captain. He wasn’t exactly deserving of her name just yet, but she also needed to ensure her ass wasn’t thrown back overboard. Tilting her head up to the Captain, her words were slow and deliberate when she finally decided to speak in his tongue once again.

“I know what you are seeking, Captain. You will never get the answer you want from the sirens, but I have. I alone can lead you to what you desire. The second Eye. The only way to kill the Queen.”

Saying nothing more, Sybil watched Knox for his reaction. In her mind, this was a one-way ticket to sitting in his office, alone with him.

She seemed awfully confident about it, for some reason.
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just a little further, and then i can rest...
knox.
as the apprehended woman knelt before him once more, peering up at him with her piercing eyes with an unprecedented brazenness given her dire situation, knox willed his patience to hold out long enough to hear her words out despite the lack of a proper answer to his question. though she spoke slowly, the words dragging off her tongue as though made of saw dust, she articulated her ultimatum in their language with the fluency of a native salonian.

"i alone can lead you to what you desire. the second eye. the only way to kill the queen."


the strained smile immediately slipped off of his tired lips at the sudden revelation, her proposal catching him off guard enough to revitalize the alertness in his hazel irises. somehow, this strange person knew far too much, and it was precisely for this reason that he could no longer dispose of her as easily as dropping her off at the next trading port. but she knew that much already, of course— the volatile flames of hubris in her simmering gaze were far from unfamiliar to the wanderer prince who'd been trained to pick up on such instinctual cues from a young age.

knox grimaced, jaw tensing once more, and waved leena over to whisper new orders in her ear, eyes never once leaving the woman. she stared back at him with a concerned expression for no longer than two seconds before swallowing the knot in her throat, nodding in understanding, and scurrying off to fulfill her duties. with her assistance in taking care of the overhead logistics, he could now focus more of his energy on handling the situation presented before him.

"let her go,"
he ordered the two deckhands and accepted the stray restraints they handed him, nodding towards each of them in gratitude for their assistance up until that point as he scooped the woman up with ease and hoisted her over his shoulder like a lifeless corpse.
"i'll take it from here, so get some sleep, yeah?"


as the crew watched on in bewilderment at the unexpected conclusion to the night's events, knox found he had no mental bandwidth left to pay them any mind, solely focused on transporting his newfound cargo to his quarters without eliciting a stray knee to the ribs. upon arrival, he dumped her on the floor and immediately shackled her to the base of the bed frame, taking no chances this time now that he was alone with her without any witnesses. lucky for her, the captain's abode was far warmer than any other part of the ship, flickering candelabras, handwoven textiles, and plush rugs adorning every inch of the space in traditional salonian style.

"you wanted an audience alone with me,"
knox began, slumping into the cushioned seat nearby to bandage his wounds as the exhaustion he'd fought off all day finally began to rear its ugly head,
"and now you've got it— i will say, though, if you care to live a long, healthy life, do understand that continuing to answer in tongues will serve you no better than a noose."
he raised an eyebrow in warning, watching her carefully from the periphery of his vision as he shed his outer layers and slipped off the torn, bloodied silk blouse clinging to his frame to clean the shallow gashes along his torso and neck.
"so tell me honestly, and i'll be sure to reward you as you deserve: what do you know about the 'second eye,' as you called it? you must have learned that i was searching for such a thing after speaking with that siren— how can you understand their language?"

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coded by reveriee.
 
care to make a deal?
sybil

The moment Sybil offered even a morsel of information up to the Captain, the forced smile painting his face immediately slipped away. It traveled up to his eyes, an intrigue now playing at them and waking up his senses once more. A smile of her own threatened to slip across Sybil’s features, but she instead kept a relatively neutral expression. The information she planned to provide to the Captain was both extremely limited and a bit…manipulated. If she let him know everything he needed to know right away, he’d have absolutely zero use for her.

Still unable to stand on her own, Sybil could only watch with a venomous gaze as he dismissed the deckhands. A low groan left her body as she uncomfortably shifted again in an attempt to hold her own weight up, but it was soon replaced by a screeching yell as the Captain went and tossed her over his shoulder like a limp rag. Her face immediately bumped into his back, and she weakly kicked out a leg in an attempt to kick him anywhere that would hurt. A string of curses soon followed, but there was simply no way for Sybil to wiggle herself free from his grip.

Bastard.

The walk was short to his quarters, but Sybil continued to curse and kick as much as she could on the way there. She at least wanted to leave a bruise somewhere on him, and most preferably on his pretty face. She had already managed to leave several small wounds, but a nice bloody nose wouldn’t certainly make her feel worse about the night.

Still, her time over his shoulder wasn’t long enough to cause any real damage, as she was soon dumped back onto the ground in an admittedly much warmer location. A hiss of pain shot through her body, but she barely made a moment to register the feeling before the Captain was shackling her to some piece of furniture. His fur coat was still loosely draped around her body, but she made no effort to conceal any exposed parts of her nude body now. Instead, she immediately yanked on the chains.

A quick expression of shock crossed over her features at the realization that she couldn’t even break through the stupid piece of wood. Groans of frustration followed suit, and she rotated herself to instead lean against the bed and stare at the Captain.

He had been talking to her already, though Sybil had completely tuned him out for a solid few seconds merely because she was pissed off at him. He was bandaging up his hand, and threatening to hang her by a noose. Humans and their idiotic means to kill people; Unwilling or unable to snap a neck themselves, they resorted to gallows and the likes. Though admittedly they did serve a fine point when the bodies were left to rot for all to see. Something the Sea Queen could never do, even if she ever so desperately wanted to.

Her eyes rolled again, and she simply crossed her legs and angled her head back to stare at him.

“You assume I speak in tongues for a reason. I apologize ever so humbly for not speaking your language as well as you do,” she said sarcastically, before a single eyebrow raised upward. The Captain had moved to remove his ruined shirt, revealing Sybil’s handiwork to her. They weren’t very deep, but she had managed to land a few good blows and gashes on him. Her gaze drifted over the various tattoos that inked the Captain, but her eyes came to a halting screech the moment they crossed his pectoral, and the scar that sat upon it.

Five crescent marks, perfectly surrounding where his heart lies. They were long since scarred over, but Sybil could recognize them anywhere.

They were the marks she placed upon the Captain years ago, on the day she failed to kill him.

A small smirk quirked the corner of her lips up, before she immediately wiped it off her expression and continued speaking to Knox.

“I expected more from you, you know. You do not ask the right questions in the right order. If I were you, I would demand my name first with some threat of violence, since I have refused to give it to you up until now. I shall perform a small kindness for you now, and we may skip that step. You may refer to me as Sybil and Sybil alone,” she spoke, her tone both haughty and bored at the same time. If her arms weren’t shackled, she might as well be examining her nails at the same time.

She paused for a moment, before she slowly uncrossed her legs and propped one knee up, making no effort to readjust the coat to hide herself. Her expression remained neutral, and she let off a small hum before continuing.

“I speak their language because I was raised around it. My mother was an expert on sirens, and we studied them our entire lives. Up until tonight, that is. There are no laws to follow when you live your life on the sea, away from the ruling class that stands above all,” she spoke, never removing her gaze from Knox. No movement he made went past her, though it was unclear if she could accurately react to anything but a conversation at the moment.

“Speaking a language does not get you far, however. My mother is dead to me now, and I alone survived the attack tonight from sirens. I had assumed I would drown out at sea, but lucky me. I was picked up by the dashing Prince of Salonia, who likes to play pirate and killer,” she mused, allowing a small smile to cross over her features. It was hardly a comforting signal; her smile was all angular and never reached her eyes. It came off as more of a threat than anything.

With the small insult still fresh in the air, Sybil grew silent for the time being. It seemed she wasn’t yet keen to speak about the so-called Second Eye. Because of course it wouldn't be that simple for Knox.

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quite the enigma... not horrible company...
knox.
knox listened silently as the woman— sybil, as he now knew— prattled on about the errors of his ways, all the blunders he'd made in her eyes thus far as he sat atop his lofty office chair while she remained shackled to the ship's floor like cargo. it wasn't until she began answering his questions that he cared to properly pay her words any mind, particularly as she divulged the secret behind her fluency in the language of the sirens.

"i had assumed i would drown out at sea, but lucky me. i was picked up by the dashing prince of salona, who likes to play pirate and killer.”


sybil's jabs were not lost on the weary captain, who offered nothing more in response to her provocation than a light chuckle in amusement. long had it been since anyone last dared to speak to the prince in such a haughty manner, much less someone who seemed to know exactly who he was in relation to the mighty kingdom from which he hailed. was he expected to take her weak taunts seriously when all she held to her name at present were the auburn locks matted against her frigid forehead? he may be an unorthodox sort of humble given his esteemed position, but he was still a royal, after all.

"lucky you,"
knox echoed nonchalantly as he finished up the task of tending to his wounds and tossed the first-aid materials back into their case,
"that i've chosen to treat you like neither of those."


he slowly stood to his feet once more and carefully stretched his torso to test the new bandages as he eyed sybil's relaxed demeanor with the same parasitic curiosity that plagued him whenever he encountered something deeply intriguing to his inner adventurer. despite the itch to lock her up in his quarters and study every inch of her confounding presence, the captain knew he couldn't leave her in this state, barely clothed save for the coat he'd handed her on a whim earlier. he narrowed his eyes in thought before deciding to outfit her in his own attire for the time being, at least until they were able to swing by a tailor's at their next stop.

knox walked over to his wardrobe and rummaged through the various silks until he landed on an ivory, cotton blouse and a pair of tan, corduroy slacks, well aware that neither of them would fit her properly, of course, but such a hindrance was nothing that a single belt couldn't fix. he balled the clothing items up as he sauntered back over to sybil and unceremoniously dropped them into her lap before returning to his comfortable chair.

"you can change into those before you leave,"
he briefed her casually before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees to get a closer look at his captive, mulling over the possible veracity of her explanation.
"so you were the lone survivor of a siren attack... that's quite terrible to hear. i'm sorry for you loss— truly."
despite his sympathetic words, the distrust hardly faded from the captain's unusually sharp gaze, hazel irises clouded with indecisiveness over how best to handle this touchy opportunity.

"but please, help me to understand then, why did you attack me when we first met?"
knox questioned earnestly, searching for any answers at all to the endless tsunami of questions circling his tired brain.
"and i beg you, don't try and claim to have been defending yourself— you recognized me. have i... somehow wronged your family in the past without my knowing?"

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coded by reveriee.
 
care to make a deal?
sybil
Shifting uncomfortably against the bed frame, Sybil could only let out a small groan in frustration at the predicament her body was currently in. All her life, she had actively sought pain. A fleeting sensation to alight her senses, if only for a moment. Scars never lasted on her pristine body, and bones mended in minutes. A brush of a jellyfish against her ribs, the satisfying crack of her fingers breaking…Anything and everything to give a small headrush to an otherwise numb existence. The only other time she ever felt alive was when she hunted, and her mother made sure she never hunted too often.

Legends do not make themselves a commodity, her mother would croon to her. But the intent was clear behind her crimson irises; Sybil was to only hunt when she was told to hunt. Only allowed to feel alive when she instructed to do so.

Rolling her neck slowly to gaze at Knox, she made no attempt to hide her discontent at his remarks. She knew deep down that it was very much true -- Most pirates wouldn’t have the decency to dress her and pull her into a warmer environment, much less keep her alive. Sybil had heard the tales of the others who roamed the sea. Sirens would whisper about how disgusting their blood tasted, how it sullied their streak to hunt a pirate with no honor.

Lost in her own train of thought for only a brief moment, Sybil snapped her eyes back to Knox as he stood up to test her own handiwork. Her eyes narrowed only slightly, the mistrust he held for Sybil clearly reflected back. To her, he was the antithesis to her species. He managed to kill sirens, and perhaps even humans when he stepped away from the seas. And here she sat; A siren playing dress up as a human. Every step, every reach - It could spell disaster for Sybil in this helpless state.

Yet he didn’t reach for a blade to plunge into her heart or to drag across her neck. His boots instead sounded against the floorboards of his cabin as he moved towards his wardrobe, deft fingers swiping through countless pieces of attire. It was one of the many things Sybil found loathsome about humans. They sailed the ocean so frequently to trade silks and cottons, to present the most delicately tailored dresses that pulled them to the bottom of the sea when their ship inevitably crashed.

Sybil had seen how the mermaids fought over the dresses. How they ripped the corpses to shreds in an attempt to clothe themselves like the humans on land did. All the other sirens would simply sneer at the pathetic creatures, how much they craved the acceptance of pitiful things.

Licking her lips slowly, Sybil never took her gaze off Knox as he walked back over to her and unceremoniously dumped the clothing items into her laps. A grimace overtook her features, and she shot a glare at the back of his head as he returned to his plush throne across from her. While she wasn’t an idiot when it came to basic human oddities, there was simply no way for her to get the top on at the moment while chained to the bed. Instead, she opted to make a show of wiggling into the comically oversized pair of pants. At the very least, her legs would be a bit less cold. He could deal with the ramifications of her being chained up later.

Holding the shirt in her lap now, Sybil returned her eyes to Knox as he began to speak again. However, she found herself suddenly unable to engage with the Captain. He had propped his elbows onto his knees, and was currently examining her as if she was an item for sale. Inspecting every possible detail to ensure he was getting a good deal out of his purchase; A huff escaped her lips, and she pushed back a section of her unruly hair. It was drying mostly straight, but it was clear the mop of locks hadn’t been brushed in a long time. At least not when they were dry.

“You sound as sincere as a prince could,” she mused as he spoke on his sympathy for her so told ‘tragedy,’ but it wasn’t like she had done any better to sell her own grief. In fact, she seemed completely unphased by the apparent loss of her mother. Perhaps it was just grief settling over her like a cold blanket, but it was painfully clear that Sybil wasn’t the type of woman to cry easily.

Unfortunately for Sybil, Knox had attempted to pry into her reasonings for scratching at his chest and face the moment she gazed upon him. No answer that was even close to the truth was acceptable here.

To rip out his heart.

To make him bleed so she could lap up the blood.

To blind him and dump him overboard.

To become a siren again and kill her own mother.

Instead, Sybil idly fiddled with the shirt in her hands, before parting her lips to speak once more after a quiet few seconds. “I assure you, it was mostly personal. I have come to learn that most sirens are idiots. They had mistaken my ship for yours, and falsely labeled us killers. Dolofónoi, in their language,” she said, finally returning her gaze to Knox’s to stare him down.

“Perhaps my rage was misplaced, but I felt justified. Surface wounds on your body do not bring anything I had lost back, but it does sate my anger for the time being,” she said, her tone dangerously soft. As if she had never in her life had to scream or shout to get what she wanted.

“But you are royal, after all. Many would line up to slap you across your pristine cheek, just for the life they cannot live. Or perhaps they would wish to harm you for the actions of your father,” she added, her tone drying up and wilting at the mention of Knox’s father. It seems like Knox wasn't the only one who despised him.

“Now, if you don’t mind unchaining me, I would like to put this oversized shirt on. I do not wish to see your eyes dart down to breasts anymore, as I am sure you would like to stop looking so much.”
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what an exhausting conversation...
knox.
though knox was fairly certain he had just provided directions regarding the clothing items not even a whole minute prior, sybil seemed dead set on defying him every step of the way if the immediate struggle to wiggle into the oversized slacks was any indication of her thought process. as blindsidingly hilarious as the scene before him ought to have been, he opted to look down at his hands in silent patience as she attempted to clothe herself, holding back an amused huff as he waited for her to finish her explanation.

“but you are royal, after all. many would line up to slap you across your pristine cheek, just for the life they cannot live. or perhaps they would wish to harm you for the actions of your father.”


though sybil spoke of the detestable king of salona with tangible distaste on the tip of her razor-sharp tongue, the captain detected neither the inflammatory malice nor the harrowing grief he'd pictured her to bear after witnessing the ferocity of her initial charging attack. he could not deny, however, that her words held nothing but the truth, and though her actions until now continued to befuddle him, who was he to dictate how one is meant to behave after experiencing such deeply traumatizing life events as the woman before him? he had no choice but to believe her to some extent, just enough to keep her around for a while longer to sort out the true nature of her enigmatic character.

“now, if you don’t mind unchaining me, i would like to put this oversized shirt on. i do not wish to see your eyes dart down to breasts anymore, as i am sure you would like to stop looking so much.”


unable to help the impulsive glance upon hearing her inciteful words, knox's gaze flickered down to her chest for half of a second before he cleared his throat and complied with her demands, a tinge of pink flushing his ears as he kept one hand on the hilt of his dagger for good measure. the shackles on her wrists came loose in one satisfying, resounding click, allowing her to exchange the fur coat for the new blouse at long last.

before she could move them freely, however, knox took advantage of his brute strength to pin her legs against the floor, careful not to harm her while holding them still in place so he could use the shackles to restrain her ankles instead. no matter how well thought out her reasoning may have been, he dared not risk another attempt at his life after such an exhausting day at sea.

"you very well may be speaking only half the truth,"
knox began again, tone cautious yet satiated for the moment as he paced beside the bookshelves while sybil changed,
"but it seems i must accept that for now if i wish to rest at all before the sun rises again. i cannot fathom for what reason you'd wish to aid in my search if you really do loathe the crown so, but i'm less preoccupied by the why and more interested in how you plan on doing just that."


knox plucked a heavy, ornate textbook off the shelf and thumbed through it as he spoke, raising an eyebrow as he risked a glance back at sybil to see if she had finished changing by then.
"perhaps you can start by translating the siren's writing on that sketch you saw earlier— shouldn't be too difficult for someone fluent in their language, no?"

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honestly, you're going overboard.
sybil.
A satisfied smirk threatened to creep onto Sybil’s lips as she watched Knox dart his eyes down for just a moment, followed by a pink flush to his ears. Perhaps she wasn’t as physically strong as he was anymore, but she was certainly able to still get under his skin one way or another. It was truly a matter of testing his limits to her, and seeing just how far she could go before he cracked. She’d figure out what to do from there when the time came.

Watching him approach her once more with a hand resting against his dagger, Sybil rolled her eyes visibly. Realistically, it was the smart thing to do. She had unabashedly attacked him the moment she laid eyes upon him, and was clearly unapologetic for it. However, she couldn’t help herself from snide remark after remark.

“Oh honestly, what could I possibly do to you now?” She grumbled to him as he began to unshackle her constraints, her knee instantly pulling back towards her in preparation for standing. Yet it never got far, and a surprising squeak of shock sounded from Sybil as he immediately forced his weight onto her legs to hold her down. Although she quickly attempted to jerk one up into his sternum without much of a thought, he was still easily overpowering her in her current state. Her reflexes were fast, but it meant nothing if she couldn’t even push him off.

One loud clink later, and the shackles had been moved to her ankles. Without even likely having to glance at Sybil, Knox would be able to feel the holes she was currently burning into his skull as she glared at him.

“You are treating me like I am some wild animal. Some Prince you are,” she hissed out to him, words laced with venom as she hastily placed the blouse on. It hung loose on her frame, and would almost be comical to witness if there wasn’t a wave of malignity practically rolling off Sybil at the moment. The fur coat was placed back on after, something she was obviously not giving back without being forced to. (And really, was it worth the fight with her at this very moment?)

Listening to him speak to her once again as he paced beside his bookshelves, Sybil only pursed her lips in contemplation. She had been lying to him practically all night, with only hints of the truth being peppered throughout her words. However, when she finally spoke again, every word rang true for her.

“I do not wish to specifically aid your search or the crown. I do, however, wish to aid my own cause to kill the Sea Queen. We are simply means to each other. I have the information and knowledge you so desperately need to actually do anything, and you have the actual resources to carry out this task. Without me, you will never advance farther than this,” she said, tilting her chin back to gaze up at Knox as he stood near her.

“It is not much to translate, mind you. The siren was an idiot to give up the information, but she was smart enough to leave it vague. She likely had no expectation that any human would be able to possibly decipher her language, and even then, only ones with the most intimate knowledge of their species and legends would be able to do anything with it,” she continued on, taking the opportunity to grip the bed frame behind her and slowly rise to her feet. The chains on her ankles rattled a bit, but it didn’t deter her from taking slow and cautious steps towards Knox to peer at whatever he was thumbing over.

She then turned away from him, instead getting as close as possible to his desk as she could. The chains gave a resounding click when she pulled them taunt, and a groan followed as she eyed the distance to the parchment resting on his desk. Without much of a second thought, she reached forward to grab the edge of a large stack and yank it forward, knocking over a fountain pen along with hundreds of sheets of paper. A satisfied smile sparked across her face, and she scooped up the pen along with a single piece of parchment.

Sitting back down on the floor, Sybil motioned for Knox to join her once more. Her hand awkwardly grip the pen, as if she had never held such an item before. Nevertheless, she began a crude sketch of a teardrop shaped item.

“The item she drew for you was the Second Eye, and the writing around it simply says to seek the Eye,” she began, intently focused on making the teardrop shape actually presentable as she spoke. “In the legends the sirens tell, there was a Goddess, Calypso. The details are muddled truly,” she paused to add in, glancing over at Knox. The details weren’t muddy at all, but there were simply limits to what a human could know. Even one who ‘studied’ sirens.

“The story goes that Calypso was killed by humans. Struck down because she wanted to rule the land and sea, and the humans would not submit like the sirens did. Calypso had made the sirens, so it is really no surprise there,” she mumbled, pausing to stare at the crudely drawn teardrop on the parchment. A frown tugged at her lips for a second at the thought of being shit at drawing. Humans made it look so easy.

“When she died, the sirens took one of her eyes. It is what gives the Sea Queen so much power, and why no one can kill her now. The other eye was taken by the humans, and placed far from the reaches of the sea. Somewhere a siren could never get to, even if she crawled and crawled for days on land,” she added, turning to stare at Knox with an intense gaze that seemingly never left her visage.

“Humans dismiss these stories as legends, frivolous things. But my mother and I-” She paused for a moment, as if the thought of doing anything with her mother was a foreign concept to her. Perhaps to Knox, it was a moment of grief. Of remembering that her mother was 'gone' in a siren attack that occurred only a bit ago. “We knew better. Tell me, Captain. If you wished to hide an all-powerful object from creatures bound to the sea and the lowest possible layers of this realm, where would you put said sacred item?” She prodded, sliding the parchment drawing over to him.

Clearly, she wanted him to work a bit for his answers.
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finally, some good fucking intel!
knox.
“you are treating me like i am some wild animal. some prince you are.”


knox didn't bother to grace her accusatory comments with a response, a single pointed look conveying everything how he felt about that sentiment on its own. though such tactics never gave him much satisfaction, if sybil didn't wish to be restrained like a rabid dog, perhaps she should have pondered the consequences of making an attempt on his life and spitting in his face before committing to such an audacious plan. even now, the childish smirk on her lips as she wreacked havoc around his workspace was not lost on the captain, who merely grimaced at the sight after having expended all of his energy for the day.

sybil's insights, on the other hand, could very well have been worth their weight in gold— after months on end of interrogating every siren for further details on the sketch to no avail, knox's brain was fully preoccupied with processing these new leads as they pertained to his search for the second eye. now that she was fully dressed, he made haste in joining her on the floor as she began scribbling onto the page, peering over with wide eyes that threatened to close from exhaustion if not for the searing curiosity propelling him onward.

"calypso..."
knox echoed under his breath in deep thought. wracking his brain for any prior knowledge on this topic from his studies came up pitifully empty, but sybil readily filled in the blanks without missing a beat.

everything sybil said made perfect sense, so much so that he wondered why he'd never considered the possibility of the crude sketch being an item found on land rather than deep under the rolling waves. if the goal was the place the second eye far out of reach from the aquatic kingdom below, then the obvious hiding spot for such a sacred item would have to be...

"... on a mountain,"
knox answered slowly, wonder and satisfaction coating his words as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place,
"the tallest peak i could find."
when he met her gaze again, this time with fascination in his glimmering irises and the hint of a crooked smile on his lips, he found himself unable to conceal the wanderlust-ridden academic within his soul despite the strained communication between them thus far. every piece of knowledge he'd just gained felt highly confidential, like trade secrets that emperors would raze countries for, and that particular notion thrilled the young captain to an immeasurable extent.

soon after, however, a glimpse of the approaching dawn outside his window prompted him to school his expression back into one of focused neutrality and save any further intel-sharing for when they've both rested up. despite his keen interest, the fog clouding his weary skull seemed to inhibit his ability to extrapolate as much as he'd like to in the moment.

"let's save the rest of this discussion for the morning. i believe we could both benefit from some shut-eye after a day like today."
with a soft sigh of resignation, knox began to climb to his feet but stopped in his tracks when he caught a glimpse of sybil's thin wrists, which had been tugged around by shackles all night and displayed various shades of bruising. a pang resonated through his chest at the myriad of purples and blues— sure, he considered her a looming threat at best even now, but he'd never wished to hurt her at any point throughout their conversations.

the captain stood only for a moment to grab the first aid kit off of his desk before returning to crouch beside sybil and unpack a few supplies, namely cotton bandages and a small tin of arnica cream to combat the inflammation. he held out his hand expectantly, knowing full well that she'd be reluctant to receive treatment from her captor but far too fatigued to give even a speck of a damn.

"your wrists,"
he prompted, jerking his chin towards her now-clothed forearms before returning his gaze to her cold eyes with guiltily furrowed brows.
"this will help them heal before the bruising gets too severe. i... may not fully trust you yet, but i wish not for you to suffer needlessly aboard my ship."

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honestly, you're going overboard.
sybil.
Sybil had given no attention to Knox when he joined her on the floor, as it was simply an expectation. A command was given, and he followed. Even if he wasn’t exactly the type of individual to respect her authority, an order was still an order. In her mind, it would serve him well to follow every single suggestion that came from her lips like it was his lifeline.

When she finally let him speak again to answer her, Sybil merely kept her intense gaze locked on him. Her expression gave away nothing; Only her eyes shifted a bit as she studied his visage. A small tick in her jaw was the only indication of her thought process, and even that meant little at the moment. A momentary hum left her mouth at his answer, and she returned her bright gaze back to her own crude drawing.

“So you do have a brain rattling around in that thick skull of yours. And here I was, thinking that handsome head of yours was just about empty,” she mused lightly, the corner of her slightly chapped lips quirking upward at her own jokes. It seemed the only thing that could make Sybil smile was herself.

Though her nuanced expression told nothing to Knox, the gears in her brain were slowly clinking together. A heavy fog was slowly settling over her mind, a feeling she would soon come to learn was exhaustion. She had never been exhausted as a siren; She rested when she felt bored or apathetic to the world around her, and even then her mind remained clear and sharp. Now it felt like pushing against a current that kept getting stronger. Every word she spoke was carefully plotted out in her mind, unable to translate her own speech at a moment's notice.

Her clear eyes darted back over to Knox the moment he moved to stand, her entire body tensing up despite the ache in every bone. Though she didn’t exactly peg the Captain as a cruel type, she was fully prepared to fight for her life at any moment. She’d go down tooth and nail the moment he decided she was no longer worth the hassle for information.

Yet Knox had stopped in his tracks, and was currently eyeing Sybil’s wrists. Her own gaze shot down to her hands, and for the first time, she took notice of the bruising against her skin. Knox was immediately ignored, and she instead slowly raised one hand up in front of her face. Turned it slowly to the side and back, her brows knitted together. She had yet to witness herself fully in this human form. Flashes of her quivering legs were all that she had managed to stomach, but she was now uncomfortably forced to confront the rest of herself.

Her fingers slowly spread and shut, and she cringed at the lack of webbing between each digit. Humans had to clasp their fingers together to cut through the waves, but Sybil had only needed to claw forward whenever she wanted that extra speed. Delicate freckles dotted her skin, trailing up her wrist and arm onto the rest of her body. A shudder passed over her at the thought of the little marks covering every inch of her skin, but she had seen her legs, and she knew it was true.

Yet the most curious part of her newfound body were the bruises. Slowly raising her other hand against her wrist, she firmly pressed down against one of the marks. A wince immediately overtook her expression, and she quickly relieved the pressure she had been applying. The bruises colors shifted a bit, but returned to the same dark purplish color they were originally.

She had never been bruised in her life.

When Knox spoke again, her eyes snapped up from her wrist to his complicated expression. He was holding out his hand for her wrist, explaining something about dressing them. A frown immediately overtook her expression, and her cautious eyes seemed to trace over every aspect of Knox’s own hand as he offered it.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, before slowly offering one delicate hand to his own. Still, she couldn’t help but to add a snarky remark with it. “Oh, how lovely. All my suffering will simply be of the needed variety,” she said with a roll of her eyes, but it couldn’t hide the flinch that overtook her body at the touch of his hand. A disgusted look crossed over her face for a moment, but it was clearly at her own reaction.

His hands were rough. Far rougher than she had expected. For the entirety of her life, Sybil had never truly felt human skin. She had pulled her share of men under the waves, but the scales that coated her hands had always acted as an invisible barrier. Now her hands were fresh and new, having never felt a thing in their short lifetime but Knox. (Admittedly, the first time involved ripping at his skin in an attempt to actually kill him.)

Part of her wanted to turn her palm against his. To run her fingers along the rough calluses and lines. She also wanted to pull her wrist back and hiss at him. She hated that his hand practically engulfed hers in size. Her nails were pathetically short, with some even broken at the end from her desperate clawing earlier. Swallowing thickly, Sybil instead spoke in a quieter tone.

“It would be idiotic of you to trust me. One of the few smart decisions you have made tonight was keeping me chained up,” she said, her eyes still locked onto her own hand resting in his. Her words didn’t come off as a threat. Instead, it sounded like a vague compliment to his thought process.

Or she was openly saying she would have attacked him again if she was free. Nothing seemed guaranteed with Sybil.
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i probably should have offered dinner earlier...
knox.
the first thing knox noticed when sybil's frigid wrist landed in his wide palm was the extraordinary softness of her skin, so unblemished and even-toned that had she revealed she'd never worked a day in her life, he'd believe her with no questions asked. how could a grown, adult woman, particularly one accustomed to a life at sea, have such pristine hands devoid of a single callus?

the second thing he noticed was how gingerly she consented to treatment, the initial flinch not lost on the captain in the slightest as a far more worrying observation. had she shied away from his touch out of caution, or as a reflex from a past far more sinister than he cared to speculate at that moment? perhaps he'd never find out, given the disposition of the woman before him, but the possibility of such a horrific backstory mellowed out his tone nonetheless.

"oh, how lovely. all my suffering will simply be of the needed variety.”


"yes,"
knox answered immediately, tone neither harsh nor gentle as he returned his attention to the delicate hand in his own.
"there is no plight in this world devoid of suffering, as i'm sure you are aware. you've fallen on hard times, i understand that wholeheartedly, but while i would love to accomodate you properly as a guest in my care, your actions thus far have cost you that privilege."
he set to work as he spoke, carefully applying the arnica ointment across the entire expanse of skin without pressing down enough to hurt her.
"so yes, i'm afraid you may need to suffer a little. i can apologize in advance, though i doubt that means anything to you."


the captain finished massaging the salve across her injuries and briefly let go to prepare the bandages, unraveling and snipping them to the right length before returning to the task before him. sybil was acting uncharacteristically docile throughout the process, seemingly having come to terms with her current position in the hierarchy of power aboard the indira— a fleeting illusion instantly shattered by her next declaration:

“it would be idiotic of you to trust me. one of the few smart decisions you have made tonight was keeping me chained up.”


a genuine laugh burst forth from knox's lips, who'd found that he quite fancied sybil's undying sense of humor amidst a rather perilous situation. she seemed neither complacent nor threatening when speaking casually like this, a far cry from his initial impression of her earlier that day. if this cooperative attitude kept up, perhaps they could maintain a more harmonious relationship on this journey than he'd previously ascertained.

"thank you for the compliment,"
he agreed with a crooked smile, something he'd ultimately chalk up to the fatigue wearing down his emotional defenses. he'd never been too adept at keeping his thoughts from showing in his expression, one of the many reasons he'd have been a shoddy prospective king for salona.
"though i'd appreciate one day no longer having a reason to chain up my consultant— makes for a horrible workplace culture, really brings down the team's morale."


he secured the bandages around her wrists with several safety pins, making sure the fabric wouldn't come loose anywhere or dangle annoyingly along the edges, and breathed a tiny sigh of relief upon the completion of his efforts. she'd seemed unusually fixated on his hands as he worked, and the intense attention simultaneously coerced him to pull far, far away as well as to stay completely rooted in place, to let her pick apart every nook and cranny until she'd gotten her fill of him.

before he could ruminate on what any of that implied any longer, knox released sybil's wrists from his hold and untied her shackles from the bed frame, instead looping the metal chain around his arm as he stood once more and held his hand out to assist her in doing the same.

"come along,"
he urged softly, stifling a yawn as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes for the nth time that night.
"this handsome head of mine needs something to eat if it is to remain un-empty, and i'm sure you must be starving as well by now."

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honestly, you're going overboard.
sybil.
Watching Knox make quick work of bandaging up her wrists, Sybil couldn’t hide the uncomfortable expression that plagued her features. Her brows were knitted together, and her lips were tense as her eyes focused on each small movement. In all of her life, Sybil was rarely ever touched.

No siren was idiotic enough to even brush against her when she swam through the currents, and her Mother wasn’t exactly one to give loving hugs. Anytime her Mother decided that Sybil needed to learn a lesson, she’d crack out a tentacle against her face or squeeze her chest until a rib cracked. Crush her lungs until her vision started to fade and soundless screams were clawing free from her throat. Afterwards, she was left to deal with her own weakness, coughing and crying in pain beneath the dark and cold waves.

Yet as Knox swiftly worked to apply the ointment and massage it into her skin, not a single bite of pain followed. Despite the roughness of his hands, no pressure was applied to the bruises that peppered her skin. Never in her life had someone handled her so…gently. It was odd.

Licking her lips slowly as Knox spoke, Sybil couldn’t help but roll her eyes once more at him. A sigh sounded from her, somehow sarcastic in its tired nature.

“Is this how you speak all the time? It’s so…Princely,” she muttered, furrowing her brows at him as he secured the bandages on her skin. Once again, no pain followed his movements. It caused Sybil to swallow thickly, but his loud and boisterous laugh a few moments later nearly made the siren jump out of her skin. A small hiss of annoyance followed after, but it was mostly at herself. She felt like an imposter in her body. Scared of loud noises and flinching at the touch of a man? This new body was truly a nightmare to live in.


"Though I'd appreciate one day no longer having a reason to chain up my consultant— makes for a horrible workplace culture, really brings down the team's morale."

“We are not a team,” she said matter-of-factly while licking her lips once more in a futile attempt to get rid of the chapped skin. Her gaze was again locked back onto Knox as he made an effort to stand up, taking the rattling chain that encased her ankle. A slight tug was felt, and a groan followed as he wrapped the chain around his arm. He was intending for her to walk with him.

"This handsome head of mine needs something to eat if it is to remain un-empty, and I'm sure you must be starving as well by now."

Ignoring his hand in favor of pushing herself to her feet, Sybil instead opted to glare at him the entire time. Her arms crossed over her chest, the loose hanging garment barely clinging to her skin as she did so. She had already touched him far more than she desired this evening, and he didn’t need to push his luck.

As if on cue to specifically betray her, Sybil’s stomach growled rather loudly. A groan of displeasure followed, her arms shifting down to hug her stomach a bit. When was the last time Sybil actually ate, even as a siren?

“Just so you know, I said handsome head to mock you,” she said, motioning with one hand for him to lead the way. “I do not think you are handsome. Especially when you are walking me around like some pet on a chain. Now take me to get food.”
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so close... so so close...
knox.
“we are not a team.”


"i never claimed we were."


in actuality, knox had been referring to his crewmates with the prior jest, but the fact remained that they truly were not a team but two tense individuals lacking trust yet codependent on each other to accomplish their respective goals. such an entity could perhaps be classified as a team to some others, but to the prince, he dared not attach such a genial term to their shaky relationship, hence the formal 'princely' language, as she so aptly put it.

just as he began to ruminate on the concept of responsible allyship, a sudden growl emanated from sybil's stomach, eliciting an amused smirk he tried his hardest to stifle so as to avoid embarrassing her any more than necessary. she seemed to pick herself up just fine on her own, however, if the biting quip that came after proved to be any indication.

“just so you know, i said handsome head to mock you, i do not think you are handsome. especially when you are walking me around like some pet on a chain. now take me to get food.”


knox cocked an eyebrow at the ludicrous claim/unsolicited accusation/insufferable demand triple-combo, truly baffled by her ability to feign bravado in situations where it would come as no help to her disposition. perhaps she simply did not wish to appear weak before him after being subdued and held captive like a prisoner, but that sentiment did not concern him any more than it did a few hours ago, not when she had proven the shackles necessary at every step of the way. not to mention, he knew quite well where he stood in terms of attractiveness; his dearest elder sister hadn't worked tirelessly all these years to field the onslaught of marriage proposals before they could reach his father's opportunistic ears for nothing, after all.

"i'm sure,"
the captain agreed easily as he began to lead the way towards their destination. it wasn't too far of a walk, just across the hall and down a flight of stairs to reveal a cozy yet tidy kitchen that still smelled faintly of fresh bread and clam chowder. he removed the chain from his arm and wrapped it around a leg of the table nailed to the floor before setting to work whipping up a quick serving of their aforementioned dinner menu.

"take a seat— on a chair or the floor, whichever makes you feel less like a pet, my lady."
the sarcasm dripping from his words came moreso as a product of his fatigue rather than an actual jab towards her attitude.
"this will only take a few minutes."


sure enough, he presented her meal shortly after, a wide bowl of warm chowder with a wooden spoon paired with two segments of a golden-hued baguette the chef had baked that evening for supper and a slice of salted butter. he opted for only a banana himself, not wishing to become bloated and disrupt the onset of the comatose sleep he so desperately needed once sybil was finally out of his hair.
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honestly, you're going overboard.
sybil.
Walking with a shackle on her ankle was possibly the least embarrassing aspect of the night so far for Sybil.

Staring down at her feet as she shuffled along, she couldn’t hide the look of disgust that kept crossing over her face. Mermaids had always found humans so fascinating. That they could walk on land with their legs. That their flesh was soft and blood was warm…It was disgusting to even think about. She had yet to see herself fully in the mirror, but the freckles that dotted her legs were enough to send her into a tizzy if she thought about it for too long. Whenever bits of her dried hair swung into her peripheral vision, the dullness of its color would send a jolt through her.

Whenever she glanced over at Knox as he led the way, a hint of jealousy would wash over her. He was so confident in every step he took, like he wasn’t about to faceplant directly into the ground as she was. His boots clicked with a resounding sureness, and his arms even swung in a casual manner. Meanwhile Sybil was a shell of herself, threatening to concave inward with how much she clung to her own body. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest to pull the shirt tight, and her back was hunched forward in an attempt to keep herself balanced.

He also seemed rather confident in his general appearance. Her insult did nothing to him, instead leading to a single cocked eyebrow in her direction. As if she was stupid to imply that he was anything but the most attractive man on the ship. Human men were all the same, and especially those who happened to be princes. She had seen her fair share of rather ugly princes, they weren’t infallible. Without much subtly as they walked, Sybil made a point to stare rather closely at his face and his face alone. She had lied before, of course. He was attractive, at least by human standards. Humans could never hold a candle to the unnatural beauty of sirens.

His nose was straight, and it was a bit of a surprise to Sybil that no one had managed to break it yet. Pitch black hair lined his sharp cheekbones, where stubble was lightly peppering his skin. Though he wasn’t smiling like an idiot at the moment, she had taken notice of the singular dimple that appeared whenever he gave her that crooked grin. Every glance he took towards her was punctuated with thick and dark eyebrows.

Knox was handsome, and classically so. There was no denying that part.

But she would never tell him that.

During this entire thought process, Sybil had paid little attention to her actual surroundings. Where Knox had been leading to her on the massive ship, and what paths they needed to take. Unfortunately, it led the two of them straight to a set of…something. The floor was suddenly slumping downward, with each step lower than the one before it. Knox had continued onto the steps without any hesitation, leading Sybil to quickly clutch the railing least she wanted to fall straight down. Though he thankfully wasn’t looking back often at her progress, Sybil could feel her legs shaking at each uncertain step she took lower and lower. The bottom was rapidly approaching, and for a moment she thought she might actually make it all the way down.

And then she tripped.

Pitching forward, she didn’t make a noise as her body moved to crash into the hard ground below.

Knox noticed Sybil's shaky footing just in time, eyes widening in panic as his body moved on its own to catch her. Her body crashed into his chest, rocking him backwards with its sudden force but not nearly heavy enough to topple him over. One arm pinned her against his torso protectively while the other braced against the railing to maintain his balance. "Shit, are you okay? You must be careful with those chains."

Taking a moment to realize what just happened, Sybil blinked slowly once. Then again. Looked up at Knox and let out a low noise equivalent to a growl before shoving him back and away from her. Apparently the hard item she had slammed into wasn’t the floor, but instead Knox moving to catch her.

What a gentleman.

Brushing herself off quickly and looking away. Sybil said nothing to him. He had assumed she tripped from the chain that adorned her ankle, but she had instead gone tumbling because of her inability to adapt. He had held her without any hesitation, and the thought of being that close to him again made her fully shudder.

Without any more words spoken the rest of the short journey, the two finally arrived at their destination. Instantly the smell of food hit her, and her stomach growled once again as Knox moved to tie her restraint around a chair. She opted to ignore his sarcastic remark, only staring at the assortment of food that was scattered around her. Never in her life had she ever eaten human food. All her meals were caught and gutted by Sybil herself, and she never savored the raw flesh of the fish as she tore into it. She had seen humans eating, and always grimaced at the delight they seemed to take in it. Yet with her empty stomach and the heavenly smells around her, she couldn’t resist sitting down immediately when Knox suggested it.

The few minutes she did wait for food were antagonizing, but soon a liquid was slid in front her. A piece of wood was included, but she wasn’t an idiot. Humans didn’t eat wood.

Immediately she snatched the bread up from the table and tore into it, before greedily grabbing the bowl of chowder and raising it up to her lips. It was warm, but not scalding. Drops of the chowder fell into her lap as she chugged the liquid, only occasionally stopping to rip into more bread. At some point she snatched up the bit of butter too, eating it completely by itself.

It was only a matter of a few minutes before her bowl was empty and Sybil was practically panting, unable to fully close her mouth due to the heat of the chowder. The spoon was discarded to the side, touched not even once.

Turning her attention back to Knox, her eyes immediately shifted to the pot of the remaining chowder behind him. She was still hungry.

Without a sound she slipped out of her chair and shoved past Knox, immediately dipping her hands into the large pot to ladle more of the chowder into her mouth. She had never tasted anything like it in her life, yet…It still reminded her of home. Of the crashing waves and salty water.

As she raised another handful of chowder to her mouth to suck down, her eyes glanced over to Knox. She swallowed, before setting her visage into a glare.

“What?”
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i'm not dreaming... right? ... this is real?
knox.
knox watched in stunned silence as sybil ditched the wooden utensil in favor of using her hands, inhaling the meal in front of her before moving on to the pot of leftovers behind him. He stumbled slightly as she shoved past him, ladeling the creamy liquid directly into her mouth with her blood-crusted nails like it might disappear if she tarried too long in her pursuit.

"what?"


the sudden confrontation knocked him out of his frozen state, and he subconsciously backed away from her as she glared at him with a feral glint to her eyes. he couldn't quite say he fully blamed her, however; how long had it been since her last meal, floating on the waves waiting for someone to rescue her from her predicament?

on top of that, it was evident now more than ever that sybil hadn't grown up under the healthiest conditions by the way she failed to understand even the most basic of societal functions. his heart panged in his chest at the harrowing thought— how was he supposed to treat her like a prisoner when she was so far from healed after what she had to endure?

"nothing, don't mind me,"
he hummed anxiously as he place a towel beside the stove for her to clean herself once she had finished eating. he'd have to throw that batch out afterwards, but he could apologize to the cook in the morning.
"just... take your time, or your stomach might hurt later. it's not going anywhere."


instead of scolding her for her behavior, he silently cleaned up the dishes she left behind in the sink and waited patiently until her stomach was full. he could teach her the importance of using utensils with hot foods another time, when they weren't both exhausted to the point of near-delirium.

"if you like how that tastes, i can teach you how to make it,"
he offered absent-mindedly as he rubbed his aching temples.
"it's my mother's recipe."



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it's wonderful what a good meal does for somebody.
sybil.
Every meal in Sybil’s life had been the same. Raw fish, caught by herself the moment she could properly swim. Though she opted to hunt the far more desirable fish the older she got, it wasn’t always an option. Sometimes it was whatever unfortunate creature that decided to swim near her on a particularly hungry morning. The only creature she didn’t consume were octopi.

Those were off limits to Sybil specifically.

So as she continued to greedily ladle the chowder into her mouth, she felt as if she couldn’t stop. If she stepped away for just a moment, it would be taken away from her. Though Knox had fully stepped back and away, she didn’t stop. She could tell the way he was looking at her; Like something wasn’t right with her. And he was arguably right. Everything was wrong with Sybil at the moment, but this felt right. This felt like the first time things were alright in this hectic evening.

"Just... take your time, or your stomach might hurt later. It's not going anywhere."

At the gentleness of his tone, Sybil finally let out a weak cough and leaned away from the pot of chowder. Her hands were dripping with the liquid, and she could feel the somewhat unpleasant sting of warmth starting to seep in. Despite the overwhelming urge to keep eating more of the meal, just to taste it, Sybil knew she was done. The pang of hunger in stomach had diminished over the course of her meal, and she was now left with an odd feeling of fullness. Another cough sounded from the saltiness, but she didn’t say anything before snatching up the rag he had left for her to wipe her mouth clean. She half-heartedly attempted to scrub her hands clean, but she’d need an actual bath at this point if she wanted to truly get the grime off.

Turning slowly to face him again, Sybil wasn’t exactly sure what to feel. She had gotten her meal, and he hadn’t dared to interrupt her. By all means, this was how things were supposed to go in her life. Yet as she stood there staring at him, she felt an odd heat rise up to her cheeks. It was different from the warmth of his coat or the heat of the chowder; Something about this heat made her explicitly want to scrub her cheeks clean and look away.

"If you like how that tastes, I can teach you how to make it. It’s my mother’s recipe.”

At the offer of teaching her how to actually make the meal, Sybil quickly glanced away and back to the pot. A grimace overtook her expression, a fatal sign that she just may have overeaten her share tonight. Still, she swallowed back both her pride and perhaps something a bit more physical.

“I have never made a meal in my life. I would not know where to even start. I also assumed you did not prepare meals yourself, being a Prince and all. Do you not have servants for that sort of thing?” She questioned, finally looking back to Knox with a raised eyebrow. The red was slowly fading from her cheeks, though she was seemingly unaware of the color originally. However, before Knox could answer her inquiries, a look overtook her features. A moment later, Sybil loudly belched into her hand.

The color quickly returned to her cheeks, and she rapidly turned away from Knox. The chain on her ankle rattled and strained, nearly sending her toppling backwards from her own quick movements.

Holy shit. What was wrong with her?
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can i convince the crew to sleep in tomorrow?
knox.
as the ravenous hunger subsided and sybil was left to face the consequences of her gluttony, knox held back an amused grin at her attempt to wipe herself clean with the towel. she didn't seem to understand that the wash basin beside her had running water that was replenished at every stop, but how could she be expected to?

nothing came as more of a surprise to him, however, than the warm blush furiously coloring her cheeks at her lineup of fumbles in her rush to not be caught off guard. though many others may have wrinkled their nose in disgust at the sudden belch, knox was well-accustomed to the habits of grimy sailors and their stomach-turning table manners to the point that he hardly batted an eye.

"we all start somewhere,"
knox dismissed her concerns towards learning to cook as he moved to dampen a smaller towel with fresh water from the wash basin and hand it to her, an apologetic smile on his lips in light of his failure to consider offering a wet cloth for her earlier.
"i only learned out of necessity when i had to stay undercover during the war against ascye, but it's a helpful skill to have regardless."


haunting memories of the ground invasion against the neighboring theocratical oligarchy of ascye were never the easiest to recollect, having witnessed the horrors of man's hubris firsthand upon being thrust into a violent world of forgotten, decaying corpses and beheaded academy companions at the tender age of seventeen.

he'd spent four long years on and off the battlefield, mostly leading salona's troops in deposing their tyrannical leadership but also living for a brief stint under a forged alias in ascynian territory, stranded after a tropical storm left him washed up on the enemy's shores. it wasn't until several months of backbreaking labor and currying favor with the locals later that he was able to afford a new dinghy and sail back to the military encampment he desperately hoped hadn't changed locations in that time.

upon his long overdue arrival, however, the prince dallied not in recovering from his escapades, instead diving straight back into the throes of combat as the war neared its conclusion. years of fighting for survival on the battlefield manifested in the myriad of scars across his body, many of which were accented by his deliberate tattoo placements in the way of crafting a visual autobiography of sorts.

knox subtley cleared his throat to shake those memories from the forefront of his mind, focusing back on the task at hand. he truly did need to get some sleep before he began deliriously reliving moments best left buried in the past.
"if you're done with your meal, let's go. i'm sure you have a few questions of your own— we can talk properly about everything tomorrow."



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does this idiot not know the layout of his own ship?
sybil.
Silently accepting the damp rag from Knox, Sybil made quick work of wiping the rest of the grime off her hands. The previously still basin next to her had actually been filled with water, flowing through the metal nozzle with ease. When her mother had split her tail in two, Sybil had been so certain of her own death. The nonsense task the Queen had given her was ignored in favor of drowning.

Yet she survived, dragged aboard the human vessel she needed to be on. She had assumed it would be easy to blend in among humans, to slip into their ranks and strike at the precise moment. But she had been so very wrong. Every little thing Knox did with ease baffled Sybil, leaving her more confused every step they took. A metal contraption with water that flowed inside? A sloping floor leading deeper into the belly of the ship? She felt like a bumbling idiot, and he wasn’t helping either. Every smile was laced with pity. Every look was fitted with a bit of concern. She couldn’t even eat correctly as a human.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Sybil finished wiping her hands clean and tossing the rag to the side.

At the mention of war, Sybil’s ears perked up a bit. Her gaze shifted back to Knox, and she raised an eyebrow up at him. “I did not take you as one to partake in wars. You seem far more suited for a cushioned lifestyle upon the throne while beautiful women feed you grapes,” she said, stepping closer to him as an indication that she was done in the kitchen. Although her tone was sharp, it seems she was attempting some kind of humorous joke. Perhaps not a very funny one, but it was an attempt all the less.

“It is already the morning, Prince. But I can see you are barely holding yourself conscious at this point, so I suppose we can continue this extremely important and time sensitive conversation later,” she replied dryly, allowing him to once again take hold of the chain that secured her ankle. The weight of it was starting to drag on her skin, and she could feel the skin rubbing raw once more.

However, as Knox began to lead her away from the kitchen, Sybil was quick to notice that the two were walking in the opposite direction from which they came. Although she admittedly didn’t know the layout of the ship, Sybil kept glancing back as they began to descend further into the ship, the hallways growing darker as they did.

It was only when Knox stopped in front of the old oak door did Sybil finally speak up again, her tone irritated as he opened it up.

“This is not the same room we were in before. I thought you were tired, Prince? Why have we come here?” Staring up at Knox with furrowed brows, the young woman looked slightly bewildered and pissed off they had stopped in a cold and dingy cellar.

Apparently Sybil had actively chosen to ignore the fact she was not sleeping in the luxurious bed upstairs.
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