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THE COLD AND DARK NIGHT'S SKY looked down on me with no mercy; not a star could be seen in the celestial black sea, something that would've otherwise been the death of us, but the moon graced us with its full presence, its light piercing through the darkness. I was tempted to reach out for it, but the knots were too strong, making my wrists chafe against the sturdy rope.

"Argh!" I winced in protest as the rope tightened around my chest, my legs and my arms, my back digging into the mast's little wooden shards that stuck out and cut through my chemise. "Are you guys trying to torture me or something?!"

My crewmates sloppily cheered in unison, all stumbling around me in drunken ecstasy. The front deck was lit up by all of the gas lamps we kept on the ship, which I thought was a pretty big fire hazard, but no one seemed to mind. Everyone was too preoccupied with slurring along a few crude sea shanties and keeping me tied up even I tried to talk some sense back into them.

The view up here was certainly an interesting one, cluttered by raggedy men dancing along to their horrible singing voices, but there was nothing beyond our ship but the vast void of the ocean. Well, nothing but s small cave in the horizon.

However, the water looked especially inviting tonight when illuminated, luring with the promise of weightlessness and wonder to take you within its current as you drift far, far and farther away... Until it loses or consumes you.

Make no mistake, water was deceiving; enchanting in appearance, but heartless in morality.

Still, as the salty air tickled my face like the hand of a young maiden brushing up against my cheek, I couldn't help but to feel transported by the water, almost enamored. It was like there was something in the mist calling me, softly evoking my name to make me come hither. Odysseus, Odysseus, it seemed to say.

It was the strangest thing, but one that somehow made sense. After all, I'd practically lived at sea my entire life, always out exploring new islands and discovering new treasures against the stormy tides and deadly waves. The ocean must've one day recognized how we had mastered her and tamed her wild way, she must bow down to us and how we've overpowered her. Here, up against the mast, it felt like the water was kneeling down at my feet.

Yet there was also something seductive, almost hypnotizing in watching the waves crash around the ship, being unusually delicate for the nighttime. None of my mates seemed to have noticed or even cared, but I started to feel myself slipping away in the water, not literally, but with my mind. It was calming, peaceful, waiting for me to dive in.

Dive in.

Filled with this sudden urge, I struggled against the ropes that kept me bounded, squirming around in the hopes of loosening its grip, but that just brought more attention to me and my crewmates quickly gathered to hold me down and tighten me upright. How could they be too drunk to even walk straight, but not drunk enough to still be able to tie butterfly knots?

Standing in the center of the little crowd that had formed at my feet, my first mate smiled up at me with a devilish grin that made the scar across his upper lip even more pronounced than it already was. To think he had shown so much loyalty to me and my family, and now here the old peg-legged man was, tying me up like an offering to the gods.

"Aw, looks like our little prince can't take a little bondage," Peg-Leg Leo stroked his bushy white beard, "better enjoy your last moments of freedom while you still can, lad."

I eased back into place, my bout of fidgetiness leaving almost as swiftly as it came, helping me come back to my own sense. Letting out an uncomfortable grunt, I scoffed. "Feels more like prison if you ask me, Leo."

"Nay," Percy the Sparrow spat as he coughed up some phlegm from the depths of his throat, "yer prison awaits as soon as we land! Must be nice to 'ave somethin' waitin' for ye at home at least!"

His dear buddy Bastian the Terrible gave him a nice, hardy pat on the back. "Please, it's barely somethin' to be envious about, Percival. 'Tleast we'll still be able to woo the fair maidens from yonder. Mister Prince 'ere 'as far more serious duties, includin' not catchin' the clap."

"Well, I, for one, don't blame him," said Silver-Tongue Sigmund. "I know I could use a change from the usual bed wenches."

Percy laughed raucously. "Those same lassies ye keep fallin' 'ead over 'eels for and wantin' to make 'onest women out of them? Maybe yer more alike to our poor Odysseus than ye think, ye scallywag."

"Penelope is the furthest from a bed wench," I protested, proudly raising my head. "Any man would kill to have her hand and I'm gonna be the one to make her my wife."

For this, Leo took a step closer to me with an amused glimmer in his slanted eyes, his wooden leg thumping against the creeky floor boards. "Why, I believe you've gone soft now, little prince."

"Not at all!" I furrowed my brows. "Think of all the riches I could give to all of you once I've wed the princess of Ithaca. We'd never have to risk our lives at sea for bounty ever again! This can change our lives, men!"

"Eh," Percy nonchalantly shrugged. "I'll believe ye when I see it wit me own eyes."

"Aye and what if some us us got used to pirate livin'?" Roger the Red-Beard stumbled towards me, almost tripping over himself. "How are we supposed to go on without the wind in our sails and beer in our gut?"

I sighed, taking a moment to earnestly look at every one of my sailors in the eyes. "Don't you know that I will miss this life the most? You think I want to give all of this up? Our adventures? Our treasure? We always knew that couldn't keep doing this forever, we can't keep losing our men to the sea as she feasts on our dead bodies. Don't you want more in life than this?"

Surprisingly, Leo nodded in agreement. "Your captain speaks the truth, mates. Why only strive to rule the seas when there's land with untold riches right at arm's length for the taking? Odysseus' marriage might signal the end of past adventures, but 'tis also the beginning of future glories! To the prince!"

The crewmen all raised their swords and daggers in unison to the wicked sky above. "To the prince!"

The mates then all resumed their drunken foolishness, each taking turns to throw a friendly (but still very painful) punch on my shoulder and pour all sorts of alcoholic beverages on my head. As much as it looked absurd and a complete waste of our provisions, this was how we showed love to one another in the deep, blue, heartless sea, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Is it fair to say that you're enjoying tonight's entertainment, Captain?" Leo told me after getting his punch in. "We made sure to offer you the best seat in the house."

I sucked in a breath as another sailor punched me, making me certain that I was gonna end up with a nasty bruise by tomorrow at this rate. "This is why you woke me up in the middle of the night to tie me to the mast? For entertainment?"

"Special entertainment for our dying bachelor and soon-to-be groom, an occasion like this must be celebrated. Besides, the mates were very keen on putting on a show."

And a show it was.

We rarely had the time to genuinely be emotional with each other since we technically were avoiding death every second we were out on the sea. But throughout the evening, I saw my crew mates put on touching displays of appreciative speeches and heart-wrenching recountings of all the journeys we had been in, I swear I even saw Bastian The Terrible shed a tear underneath his black eyepatch.

But as the celebrations neared their ends, an intoxicating mist started to settle around us as we neared the cave I had spotted earlier. This time though, we could all hear the voices loudly and clearly.

"There once was a girl, pretty and fair," they sung with sickly-sweet pathos,"Whom the nymphs always played with and braided her hair/Left to her own devices one day, she fell/Where death kept her from returning to her mother's well/Her mother's love was more sorrow than any spell/This we can attest, as we have lived to tell the tale/The girl we lost to death's trial/Has been the burden of our exile/And so we wait for the arrival of brave young sailors/Who will save us from our destinies to become forever wailers."

Nobody could resist them.

One moment my crewmen all went to the edge of the deck to see where the voices came from, our ship derailing from its original course to approach the cave, my heart loudly thumping against my chest as the voices made me soar, but the rope still constricted my body. The next moment: chaos.

The last thing I remember seeing before the crash was a beautiful young woman sitting on the edge of a rock at the bottom of the cave. But then more women appeared from below the water, their arms extended towards us as if they were going to greet us in a warm embrace.

Then, I did feel warmth, but it wasn't from a woman's loving bosom.

It was from the blood of my crewmen's mangled bodies as they were being ripped apart, limb by limb.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟