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🎵 🎵🎵

You were the shadow to my light
Did you feel us
Another start
You fade away
Afraid our aim is out of sight
Wanna see us
Alive
Where are you now
Where are you now
Where are you now
Was it all in my fantasy
Where are you now
Were you only imaginary
Where are you now
Atlantis
Under the sea
Under the sea
Where are you now
Another dream
The monsters running wild inside of me
I'm faded
I'm faded
So lost
I'm faded
These shallow waters, never met
What I needed
I'm letting go
A deeper dive
Eternal silence of the sea
I'm breathing
Alive
Where are you now
Where are you now
Under the bright
But faded lights
You set my heart on fire
Where are you now
Where are you now
Where are you now
Where are you now
Where are you now
Atlantis
Under the sea
Under the sea
Where are you now
Another dream
The monsters running wild inside of me
I'm faded
I'm faded
So lost
I'm faded

🎵🎵🎵

Tolya Yul-Bataar was a giant, one among the largest people she'd ever seen. He was Shu with dark hair, bronze skin and golden eyes. The Shu's we're proud people, yet their loyalty lies with the Taban crown. Only a handful of Shu's stray away and it was hardly heard of, in all her travels—this was a first for Aeolian to meet a Shu loyal to someone else.

As they board the whaler she was engulfed in a wall of stench—not the usual ship smells of bilge and fish and bodies, but something far worse.

She gagged and clamped her mouth shut, inhaling the perfume from her wrists. "What is that?"

"Blood, bone, rendered blubber," said Tolya. "You get used to it."

"You get used to it," she retorted.

She didn't want to get used to it, they were supposed to be on Sturmhond's ship for weeks. He was a Ravkan privateer and a smuggler, infamous for breaking the Fjerdan blockade and for the fortune he'd made capturing enemy ships.

Sturmhond appeared smiling pleasantly. "Amazing how quickly a ship feels crowded, no?"

He was tall, red haired, muddy green eyes, a nose that looks as if it has been broken and badly set several times, and an overly pointy chin; he looked like a fox in a way. And was five to six years older than she was. He wore leather breeches, a brace of pistols at his hips, and a bright teal frock coat with gaudy gold buttons and enormous cuffs. It belonged in a ballroom or on an opera stage, not on the deck of a ship.

"Why does a pirate own a whaler?" She asked.

"Privateer," he corrected. "I have several ships, for specific purposes."

"You mean you steal them." She raised a brow.

"Acquired it." He mumbled.

She crossed her arms. "I think I've seen you before."

Aeolian had met Sturmhond only the previous night to strike a deal but she had the feeling—that she'd seen him or met him before.

"Many women dream of me," he grinned.

She knew how flirtatious Sturmhond was from their first meeting. So she just played along, "hmm you look like my next mistake."

He almost smiled. "If that's the case, I could show you incredible things."

"I'd like that." She winked as she walked away.

Aeolian was disguised as Min a spy from Shu Han, who seek the golden heart of the siren but there was something else that she seek, that none knew.

It was superstitious to have a girl on board—an old nautical superstition held that women on military vessels or merchant ships were considered bad luck because captains believed their presence would anger the sea gods, who would cause rough waves and violent weather.

But Aeolian knew that there was no such thing as angering sea gods by being a woman on board, the alternate explanation have been that bringing a woman on an extended sea voyage could be extremely distracting to the all-male crew and probably cause problems for the woman as well. A distracted or jealous crew is an unsafe crew.

Sometimes women would even disguise themselves as men in order to work on a ship. But Aeolian wasn't anyone, she's the Black Blade from The Desert Blade and the Jackal from The Onyx and she has no intentions to disguise herself as a man. Especially in this quest where she needed to be herself in order to claim what she seek.

Sturmhond had given strick orders that she be left alone, but just in case someone gets drunk and forgetful she knew how to take care of herself and she wasn't afraid to be the only girl on the whaler—she was a killing machine after all.

But she tried her best to keep her distance from the crew because she wasn't here to make friends or even pretend to make friends; so she spent her hours practicing with her knives, reading random books she found around, trying out new hairstyles or staring out at the endless sea.

Sturmhond had given her a book which writes of an incident where a crew defied the superstition and went out to sea with several female passengers on board. The ship hit a terrible storm, and the crew, remembering that women were bad luck, began throwing all the female passengers overboard. More than 60 women drowned in the men's attempt to appease the sea gods. All was for naught, as the majority of the crew perished anyway.

Then there was another story in which the sailors believed a woman on board would anger the sea gods, but they also believed a bare-chested woman calmed the seas. A topless woman would "shame" nature into suppressing its anger. And, oddly enough, even though they were believed to be bad luck on the boat, women were also thought to be excellent navigators. That is why there's topless women figureheads with their eyes wide open on the prows of boats and ships.

Aeolian couldn't belief the type of nonsense the privateer reads so as soon as she was done, she tossed the book into the sea. No one should ever read that, she thought grimly, it was not only insane but it'll only give men the wrong idea about women.

◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️

When she spotted the first ice floes. She knew they were far north, here the sea darkened and ice bloomed from its depths in perilous spikes. As they passed between two slate stone islands that she recognized from the map: Jelka and Vilki, the Fork and Knife.

They had entered the Bone Road, the long stretch of black water where countless ships had wrecked on the nameless islands that appeared and disappeared in its mists. On maps, it was marked by skulls, monsters, mermaids. Only the most experienced Fjerdan hunters came here, seeking skins and furs, chancing death to claim rich prizes.

When she came above deck, to stretch her legs and braid her hair. As always, Sturmhond stood by the railing, scanning the horizon, searching for something or maybe, he wanted to look important—she couldn't tell.

Sturmhond ordered the sails trimmed, and their pace slowed as they drifted through the mist. An uneasy silence blanketed the ship. She studied the whaler's longboats, the racks of harpoons tipped in Grisha steel. It wasn't hard to guess what they were for. They were in search of something rare and maybe—a myth or a legend as well.

It's madness, what she's about to do. No normal human wouldn't dare attempt it. But she wasn't normal, was she? The thought brought her little comfort. She always dared.

"Who is it for?" Sturmhond finally asked as he stood besides her on the rail.

She just stared out into the waves, braiding her hair in a four strand braid.

"Tell me you're not contemplating what I think you are," He said. "Tell me the heart is for some other stupid, gullible girl."

"Someone less stubborn? Less selfish?" She said focusing on her braids.

He turned to her. "You're not Grisha, it's against nature for humans to claim what's not normal."

"This is different." She muttered. "I've read every theory out there, I've done my research."

"You're insane." He huffed. "It'll destroy you."

"I'll take my chances," she said with a slight smile as she tied the end of her braid with a black ribbon.

But she wasn't as brave as she wanted to be, she was unsure and slightly scared of what the outcome might be. These supernatural things weren't meant for humans, only for Grisha and if humans take these things for themselves—it drove them mad—if the person was not strong enough to fight it.

"What if it's a fairy tale," he said reluctantly. "A children's story. That doesn't actually exist."

"There have been sightings of the siren in these waters for years," she tossed her hair behind. "And we made a deal."

Tolya stepped forward. Aeolian had been so focused on Sturmhond, that she'd nearly forgotten the existence of the Shu giant.

"Sirens are real, I've seen them." He cleared his throat.

Sturmhond turned his gaze on Tolya. "You work for me."

The look they exchanged were not friendly.

"We tack southwest." Tolya crossed his huge arms, "we made a deal and we honour it." Then without another word, he disappeared again.

Aeolian had made a deal with Sturmhond, the heart of a siren for information he needed about a pirate ship that had been attacking the Ravkan ships that leaves from Os Kervo. But now Aeolian could see that the privateer had a change of heart—for reasons unknown but Tolya being Shu had stood up for Aeolian because at the end of the day even though he was part of Sturmhond's crew, Tolya was Shu by birth and the Shu's don't turn their backs on their own.

Sturmhond watched her in way that made her feel like he was trying to read her. "I can feel your loneliness. The growing knowledge of your own difference." He leaned in closer. "The ache of it."

She hide the shock of recognition that went through her. "Are you a suli fortuneteller?"

He shook his head. "It never fades, it only grow worse. No matter how many faces you hide behind Min or what lies you tell, no matter how far or how fast you run."

Aeolian stared out into the waves. Min wasn't even her real name. In a way he was right: after her mother's death, nothing had been the same for her. She'd hide behind hundreds of names and faces. The pain of otherness that would never ease. But she won't give into fear or heartache; she was a practiced liar. She could fake any emotion, play any role.

She ran her fingers through her long four strand braid, "I've considered shoving you over the railing, over a dozen times. And I've shown immense restrain, so the next time you try to speak nonsense to me." She lightly gazed at him. "You better be ready for a deep cold swim with the fairytale monsters, you don't believe in."

◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️

The mood had changed aboard the whaler. The crew had grown restless and watchful, but Sturmhond still had that cheer in him like always.

Aeolian nerves worn thin through the slow progress through the waters of the Bone Road. She had hundreds of other things to do, rather than be stuck in a stinky whaler in the middle of the most dangerous part of the True Sea with Sturmhond who always had something or the other the say to her.

Each day, Aeolian would observe Tolya at work. Sometimes she'd hear him call out bearings to Sturmhond or saw him gesture to what looked like deep scratches just above the waterline on the large ice shelves they passed.

She peered at the rough grooves. They might be claw marks. They might be nothing at all. Still, she has hope that she'd find what she was looking for.

On the sixth day, while she was asleep there was a knock on the cabin door. Aeolian sprang to her feet, knives already flashing in her hands.

"He found something." Sturmhond's voice.

Aeolian gave a sigh of relief and opened the door, it was barely dawn but Sturmhond was beaming. Does this man ever tire? She couldn't tell.

She quickly tied up her dark hair in a high bun and emerged into the dim gray light of early morning. The deck was crowded with the crew gazing out at the water. The mist was heavier than the day before. It clung thick against the water and crawled in damp tendrils over the ship's hull. The silence was broken only by Tolya's directions.

When they entered a wide, open stretch of sea, Tolya turned to Sturmhond and said, "we're close."

Sturmhond gazed at Aeolian for a good amount of time, then commanded. "Trim the sails."

The longboats were prepared and, in minutes, they were being lowered over the starboard side, loaded with Sturmhond's men and bristling with harpoons.

Aeolian took a step toward Tolya. "Is it out there?" She asked unsure of what she wanted to hear.

He gave a low nod, then turned to her. "The captain is right, you shouldn't tap your hands on the unnatural...you're human after all."

She knew that this was insane but hasn't she tested her own limits time and again? This is who she was, a product of war and she knew he was too. So she told him, "You and I both know what's it's like to be a puppet on a string so, I'm out here doing something for myself...something I always wanted to do ever since I was a child and yes, I know that it's unnatural and absolutely maddening but I'm doing this for me and me alone."

"If that's what you wish for Min." His voice sounded raw. "But don't let it consume you."

"I won't," she pressed her lips. She knew it won't be easy to claim the unnatural but she had hope because she always survived the fire around her because the fire inside her burned brighter. This is who she was, she never stop fighting.

A cry rang out: "Two points off the starboard bow!"

Something was moving in the mist, a shimmering, undulating blueish green shape.

"Saints," Tolya breathed.

At that moment, the creature's back breached the waves, its body cutting through the water in a sinuous arch, colours sparking off the scales on its back.

"Siren." Aeolian gasped.

Sirens were folk stories, a fairy tale, a creature that was half man half fish like mermaids but unlike mermaids; they were deadly looking with razor sharp teeth and deep eyes that resembles the fishes in the dark sea. But their voices so tempting that it lures sailors, fishermen and anyone who crosses it paths into the dark.

Aeolian had only seen its pictures in the books she read or paintings she came across but she'd never really believed in its existence until now. Sirens were real, and they have found one.

(The Siren)

The boats let fly their harpoons. The first went wide and splashed harmlessly in the water. The second lodged in the siren's hide. It's tail whipping back and forth, then reared up like a snake, hurling its body out of the water. For a moment, it hung suspended in the air: gleaming scales, and wrathful eyes. Beads of water flew from its mane and its jaws opened, revealing a black tongue and rows of gleaming teeth.

It came down on the nearest boat with a loud crash of splintering wood. The slender craft split in two, and men poured into the sea. One of Sturmhond's men was dragged under the sea by the deadly creature never to be seen again.

The tops of the masts were shrouded in mist now. Another harpoon found its target and the siren began to sing, a sound more lovely than anything they'd ever heard, a choir of voices lifted in a plaintive, wordless song.

No, Aeolian realized, not a song. The siren was trying to control them with its singing. She covered her ears with her hands. She didn't want the creature to lure her to her death.

"Nets!" shouted Sturmhond. But the mist had grown so thick that she couldn't quite tell where his voice was coming from.

Then it came a boom of thunder, blackness tumbled toward her, engulfing the schooner, blotting out everything in its path. As darkness rolled over her, Aeolian coughed and tried to make sense of her surroundings. But she was blinded and she couldn't understand what the hell was going on. She could only hear screams of people around her. Another boom.

Then a strong arm picked her up, Tolya. She rubbed her eyes but all she could see was blackness all around her. Then in an almost hallucinating state of mind she saw something so white and silvery, like millions of crystals sparkling at a distance. It can't be. But what if it was?

As the blackness began to clear, the crew was in a state of dilemma and a quarrel had broken out as of who had shot the canon. Aeolian couldn't quite understand what the hell went wrong and did they even catch the siren? And the white and silvery creature she saw at a distance was it cos of the commotion? No. It can't be, she wouldn't have hallucinated it.

A man came forward and said to Tolya. "You saw it too, didn't you? It was a sea whip."

Rusalye, the sea whip or the ice dragon. A creature of dreams that lived on the edges of maps. The beast was believed to be a cursed dragon prince forced to take the form of a sea serpent and guard the frigid waters of the Bone Road. In children's stories, he would kidnap beautiful women and take them underwater. There, they had nothing to eat but coral and pearls and eventually starved to death. Once they died, he would sob over them and then go find others. The creature was one among the most powerful amplifiers a Grisha could have.

Tolya grunted. "My eyes were on the siren."

"Was it really a Rusalye?" Aeolian asked the man.

He nodded, "yes, it was, we all saw it. Privyet was the one who shot the cannon, I think he wanted to scare the creature away...it was heading towards the whaler."

Sturmhond appeared before them, he was wet, his hair was a mess and he had black dust on him. This is a first Aeolian thought to herself.

"Because of Privyet we nearly lost the siren." He muttered as Aeolian realised why they were really here. "You caught it?" She looked at him.

He said, "I've cut its tongue so that it won't sing us to sleep or worse." Then he pulled a knife from his belt, flipped the knife over, offering the hilt to her. "This is for the beast."

A group of sailors leaned over the starboard rail and unlashed a complex webbing of ropes. They heaved, and slowly raised the siren's body over the schooner's side.

It thumped to the deck, still struggling in the confines of the net. It gave a vicious thrash, its sharp teeth snapping. They all jumped back.

"As I understand it, you have to be the one," said Sturmhond, holding the knife out to her once more. She eyed the privateer, wondering how much he might know about these creatures.

Aeolian pulled out her own knife and it gleamed in the sun. Grisha steel. She looked at the creature. It snarled and lay twitching in the deck, eyes full of rage. A jelly like substance of greenish-blue was leaking from its mouth, Aeolian supposed it was the blood of the creature.

She grasped the knife's hilt. It felt heavy in her hand. Is this mercy? It certainly isn't the same mercy she'd shown before. She held up the knife, unsure of what to do, where to put the blade. The siren whip gave a wheezing, pitiful sigh, a weak echo of that magical choir. It wanted to live, like any other.

With one clean thrust she ended the life of the poor creature. Then she ripped its chest and pulled its golden heart out. It felt like cold clay in her hand, there was no warmness in it and blood that looked and felt like jelly dripped from her palm. Sirens were cold and brutal in nature and that's why their hearts were always cold.

She knew what had to come next. You can walk away, a voice said. Leave it be. But she couldn't throw the heart of the siren back into the sea, the creature had already given up its life. It felt wrong, like everything was happening too quickly, as she was rushing toward something she didn't understand.

"Da, kapitan," Privyet hesitated. "Kapitan...people will pay good money for the scales."

Sturmhond frowned, but then gave a terse nod. "Take what you want, then clear the deck and get us moving."

Several of the crew fell on the siren's body to cut away its scales. Aeolian couldn't watch. She turned her back on them, her gut in knots.

Sturmhond came beside her. "Don't judge them too harshly," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

"I'm not judging," she said. "We all have purses to fill, families to feed."

"You're smart beyond your years," he sounded impressed.

"Do men not realise we women are smarter." She furrowed her brows. "And we mature early."

"Does that mean, you're interested in older men?" He squinted.

"Are you flirting with me?" She said.

"I've been since day one," he crossed his arms. "Thanks for noticing."

The privateer was unlike anyone she'd ever met before; overly self confident, cocky and full of pride. But he wasn't handsy or improper, he was a gentleman in his own way but she wasn't here for a relationship with him—she was here for the siren's heart and something more—something none of them had any clue about; if they ever did, they'd throw her off into the True Sea.

"Sturmhond," her voice soft, easy. "If I told you my secrets, you'd never look at me the same."

He almost grinned. "Try me?"

"As soon as we dock in Os Kervo, all shall be revealed." She batted her long black lashes.

"That makes me excited." He nodded.

She looked across the deck to where the crew were hefting the siren's body over the ship's rail. With a straining heave, they rolled it over the side of the schooner. It struck the water with a loud splash. That quickly, the creature was gone, swallowed by the sea. A long whistle blew. The crewmen scattered to their stations, second later, the schooner was once more on its way, tacking southeast to Ravka.

"Are you really going to claim the heart of the siren as your own?" Sturmhond asked.

"I don't know." She mumbled.

"Don't you? Despite my dazzling good looks, I'm not quite the pretty fool I appear to be. You intended to wear its golden heart." He gazed at her. "You want to sing like the creature."

"I know you want to stop me," she said. "But it's not your choice to make. You might be the captain of the ship but, I'm not one among your crew."

He shook his head. "You don't understand what you're saying. These aren't meant for humans. The risks__"

"I tend to be overfond of risk." She stated.

"Not this kind," he said grimly.

"There have been maidens who had taken the heart of the siren and still lived a good long life, I've read about them." She said.

"Yes, it was centuries ago and there were only two of them who was able to among the hundreds who tired to do what you're doing and became lunatics instead." He mentioned.

"We do insane things every now and then, don't we?" She arched a brow. "Why not this?"

"You certainly have a flare for the dire." He huffed.

Her fingers snaked into her pocket, seeking out the damp cold heart. She had so little information, and her knowledge was sketchy. But this rule had always seemed fairly clear: no human shall claim the unnatural without a price.

Why can't a human posses an amplifier like a Grisha? She thought to herself but she knew the answer to it: What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.

◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️

Aeolian pulled out the red book from her pocket, the book that General Kirigan the leader of the Second Army had given her. He was the most powerful Grisha out there, a shadow summoner. He was a tall handsome young man, with ink-black hair, dark eyes, and sharp, beautiful features. In fact—he was the most handsome guy Aeolian had ever laid eyes on and he had given Aeolian this very book for a reason: he wanted her to find out whether the legend of the Sea Whip were true or not because he had received information that there had been recent sightings of this magical creature at the Bone Road.

Aeolian had not only taken this journey for the heart of the siren but to find out whether the sea whip existed or not and pass the information to the general. She was double crossing Sturmhond in a way but she was on a mission and it was in her nature to seek information by hook or by crook.

She opened the book Sankt Ilya stood barefoot on the shore of a dark sea. His arms outstretched, his palms turned upward. His face had the blissful, placid expression Saints always seemed to wear in paintings, usually before they were murdered in some horrific way.

Around his neck he wore an iron collar that had once been connected to the heavy fetters around his wrists by thick chains. Now the chains hung broken by his sides. Behind Sankt Ilya, a sinuous white serpent splashed in the waves the Ice Dragon or the Sea Whip. A white stag lay at his feet, gazing out with dark, steady eyes the Morozova stag.

Then in the background barely visible in the distance, a bird circled a towering stone arch. The firebird but this bird didn't belong to one story, but to a thousand. It was at the heart of every Ravkan myth, Ravka's borders were said to have been sketched by the firebird's flight. Its rivers ran with the firebird's tears. Its capital was said to have been founded where a firebird's feather fell to earth. A young warrior had picked up that feather and carried it into battle. No army had been able to stand against him, and he became the first king of Ravka. Or so the legend went. The firebird was Ravka.

Three amplifiers. Three creatures. She thought deeply and she had seen one of them, do the other two exist as well?

They were the most powerful amplifiers a Grisha could ever have. Kirigan had told her Morozova's amplifiers were different, that they were meant to be used together. Was he after them for himself? He is powerful after all, why do he need theses?

What's infinite? The universe and the greed of men. Something didn't feel right about this. She put the book back into her pocket ignored the late hour and went to Sturmhond that night. She didn't know if she was eager or simply afraid she'd lose her nerve.

The privateer greeted her with his usual good cheer, and made a joke or two about her appearing in his cabin at the dead of night. She was in no mood for his jokes but a voice said, she needed to do this by tonight so she'd just played along and requested him to abide to her wishes.

She and Tolya waited at the deck. A few minutes later, Sturmhond appeared, a Materialnik in tow. She was yawning like a sleepy child, she didn't look very impressive, but Sturmhond said she was his best Fabrikator and Aeolian had to take him at his word she had no other option on board.

Tolya carried the lantern to help the Fabrikator at her work. If Aeolian survived whatever came next, she'd be the third women in history to claim the heart of a siren without becoming completely demented.

Sturmhond, slapped his hands together. "Perfect night for turning nuts, no?"

Aeolian scowled at him and slipped the heart from her pocket. She'd rinsed them in a bucket of seawater, and they gleamed golden in the lamplight.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" The Materialnik asked. She was gnawing on her lip so agressively, Aeolian thought she might draw blood.

"Of course not," said Sturmhond. "Anything worth doing always starts as a bad idea."

Sturmhond and his sense of humour, Aeolian thought distressingly.

As Aeolian sat down besides the Grisha, she took the golden heart and then bent to her work. Aeolian felt gelid first, radiating from the heart as it came apart and then re-form slowly. The process was painfully slow and Aeolian had to stay as still as possible even though she felt the sting. Everyone was silent and only the sounds of the waves could be heard. After what felt like eternity, it was done.

Aeolian touched her right ear lobe and felt the cold metal on her ear. She couldn't see it but she knew it was perfect. "Thank you," she thanked the Grisha.

Sturmhond peered at her ear. "Huh," he murmured. "I thought the end of the world would be more exciting."

As soon as he said that everything went dark.

Now, Aeolian stood at the deck of her ship 'The Ghost' and peered out at the sea, that was how she met Sturmhond and Tolya back then and how they helped her to acquire the heart of the siren and when she nearly went raving mad with the voice of the siren occupying her mind—they'd helped her but she'd betrayed them at the end of the day by siding with the Darkling.

She didn't know that the Darkling was the Black Heretic himself, the creator of the Shadow Fold if she'd, she would've never worked for him. And because of her the Darkling was able to find the Sea Whip because she'd told him about the existence of the dragon and how Sturmhond and his crew were the ones who took her to the Bone Road, she'd told the Darkling about the skills of Sturmhond's crew and so the Darkling had used them to get to the creature in the end.

Aeolian and Nikolai had never had the conversation of why she'd betrayed them for the Darkling but in a way Aeolian knew that even Nikolai knew, the unspoken truth; that Aeolian had no idea about who the Darkling really was back then and she was only doing her job.

She'd been a fool back then—believing in the Darkling as well as her grandmother and it had only lead to more miseries and problems not only for her but for everyone else. But now she wasn't the same girl she was before, she'd learned her lesson but in a very bitter manner.

She ran her fingers through the cold metal on her ear, as dawn was breaking and at a distance she could see land. In the end, we only regret the chances we didn't take. And she was not going to live her life in regrets, she flies by her own wings.

May 08. 2022