THE SHIP OF ECHOES
The sea was too quiet. Even after calming the storm, even after navigating the dark waters of the Mourning Reach, The Siren's Mercy had never known silence like this. No gulls. No waves. Not even the creak of her cursed timbers. Ren stood at the rail, her saltblade at her hip, eyes locked on the horizon. It wasn't just stillness. It was anticipation. Something was waiting. "Dead ahead," came the call from the crow's nest. Verek appeared beside her, spyglass raised. He didn't curse or shout. He simply lowered it and passed it to her.
Ren peered through the glass. At first, she saw nothing. Just fog and that endless dark water. Then something emerged. A ship.
Not drifting sailing. Its sails shimmered with threads of blue-green light, rippling as though underwater. Its hull was carved from pale wood, lined with bone. The mast bore no flag. No name. No color.
But Ren felt it.
A hollow tug inside her chest. A recognition born of blood.
"It's one of theirs," she whispered.
Verek nodded. "Hollow Current."
A strange feeling surged in Ren's gut. Not fear. Fury.
The two ships circled each other like sharks. Neither fired. Neither hailed.
Kael stood behind Ren, eyes glowing faintly. "They're watching you."
"Do they know who I am?"
"They don't have to," he said. "They'll smell the tide in your blood."
"Then let them."
She walked to the edge of the deck and raised a hand fingers spread wide. Her pendant flared with a soft, sea-colored glow.
The ship across from them paused.
Then lowered a rowboat.
Ren's breath caught.
Two figures stepped into it.
One rowed. The other sat perfectly still.
As the boat crossed the water, the glow of the Hollow Current ship dimmed.
"Permission to board?" one of the crew asked anxiously.
Verek nodded. "Let them."
Ren waited on the deck as the boat thudded against the hull.
The first figure climbed aboard a thin, gray skinned man with silver rings woven into his beard. His eyes were entirely black, but he did not look at her. He turned and helped the second figure ascend.
Ren's world stopped.
It was him.
Aren.
Her brother.
Older now. Leaner. Pale. His imperial tunic was gone, replaced by robes lined with sea-glass thread. His eyes once hazel now shimmered like a reef.
He looked at her.
And smiled.
Not warmly. Not cruelly.
Like a man seeing a memory he'd buried deep.
"Ren."
Her throat tightened. "Aren… is it really you?"
"It is," he said softly. "Though… I've changed."
Tears stung her eyes. "I thought you were dead."
"I was," he said simply. "Then the sea found me."
The crew stood frozen. Even Verek had gone still.
Kael watched silently, unreadable.
Ren stepped forward. "I've searched for you for two years. I thought pirates"
"They did," Aren said. "But they served something deeper. Something older. When they took me beneath, I fought. And the sea heard me."
He looked down at her pendant.
"Mother's gift?"
Ren nodded. "She told me to find you. She died for it."
Aren's jaw tightened. "Then she remembered."
"Remembered what?"
He gestured to the Hollow ship behind him.
"We were born from salt. We were never meant to rule from land."
Ren felt the words like a weight.
"You sound like them."
"I am them now, Ren," Aren said. "And you should be too."
She stepped back.
"No."
"You're tideborn. You felt the storm. You silenced it. You belong with us."
"I belong to myself."
Aren's expression hardened. "He's calling you."
"The Sea God?"
"No," he said. "The deep. The part of you that already knows."
Ren shook her head. "I came to bring you home. Not to drown beside you."
Aren's voice turned sharp. "Then you don't understand what's coming."
A tremor rippled through the ship.
Everyone turned.
The sea behind the Hollow ship… was rising.
Something was coming from below.
Verek shouted, "To arms!"
Kael's voice rang out. "Too late. It's here."
From the depths, a shape emerged.
Massive.
Twisting.
Alive.
A sea serpent, but not natural. Its body was half flesh, half coral, its eyes empty sockets filled with glowing brine. Its mouth opened in silence, revealing rows of jagged stone-like teeth.
It circled the Hollow ship protectively not attacking.
Worshiping.
Aren didn't flinch.
"It is one of the Deepbound," he said. "We ride with them now."
Ren drew her saltblade. "I don't."
Aren looked at her not angry, not sad.
Disappointed.
"Then you're in the way."
The serpent lunged.
Ren raised her hands instinctively and the sea rose with her.
A wall of water slammed into the creature's snout, knocking it off course. It roared silently, terribly and turned on The Siren's Mercy.
The crew scattered.
Ren stood her ground.
The serpent dove again.
This time, Kael stepped beside her, hands glowing blue.
"Together," he said.
They raised their palms in unison.
Ren called the tide. Kael summoned the chill.
The sea exploded upward a spiral of freezing brine and crashed into the serpent like a falling star.
The beast shrieked and vanished beneath the waves.
When the mist cleared, the Hollow ship was gone.
So was Aren.
Only the rowboat remained empty.
And in its center, laid gently as a message, was a piece of parchment.
Ren unfolded it with shaking fingers.
One word was written in ink that shimmered like oil:
"Remember." She stood at the rail long after night fell.bKael joined her.
"You could have joined him."
"I still might," she said softly. "If it means saving him."
"Then be careful, Ren."
He looked at her, eyes glowing faintly.
"Because the sea doesn't save. It changes."