A Song of Secrets and Seafoam

The cool night air kissed her bare shoulders as she walked from the Castle of Dreams back to the Mermaid’s Tears. Her mind was a tempest, caught between a thousand thoughts. Someone in her crew had betrayed her. Magnus had left her reeling, waves of emotion and unspoken words crashing within her. The steady click of her heels on the cobblestone road was the only constant in the chaos of her thoughts.

The murmur of voices drifted around her, the Point of Veil still in shambles, still dangerous. She was alone. The hem of her dress barely brushed against the worn stones as she walked, her steps measured, deliberate. The weight of the bloodstone rose rested just below her décolletage, its presence grounding her.

Buildings with broken tile roofs, shattered glass, and piles of debris surrounded her. Shadows flickered across the ruined remnants of the Point of Veil. At this hour, she wasn’t surprised to see people still roaming—some merely lost amid the wreckage of what had befallen this place, others lingering with far more devious intentions. She had no plans to stay in the streets for long. The Mermaid’s Tears was one of the few places untouched by the attack, and for a fortnight, she would offer aid at the behest of Magnus.

She had given her trust to Magnus—a dangerous game, one neither of them could afford to lose. The dinner lingered in her mind, each moment etched with an intensity she couldn’t shake. Tomorrow, she would meet him at the Seascribe library under the guise of business, to see the letters he’d discovered, the ones that would reveal the betrayal in her crew. Magnus hadn’t betrayed her, but he had uncovered something that would change everything. Yet her thoughts strayed elsewhere. Back to his storm-gray eyes, sharp and assessing, the way the candlelight had traced the worn leather of his vest, how it clung to him, and the scent of salt and cedar that lingered on his skin. She should have been focused on the treachery that had been uncovered, but instead, she found herself thinking about Magnus.

Nestled within her dark curls was the red rose he had placed there, its petals a stark contrast against her hair. Yet she could still feel more than just the flower—she could feel the lingering heat of his touch, the ghost of his fingertips against her skin. And most of all, she could still hear his voice, a whisper against her ear, low and edged with warning.

"One of your men is betraying your secrets, my lady.”

As she stepped into the Mermaid’s Tear, the lively room blurred into the edges of her awareness. Long wooden tables were crowded with men and women, stacked high with plates and ale. Faint music played in the background, weaving through the air alongside laughter and murmured conversations. The scent of ale and smoke clung to the air, and the bronze statue of the Aquarri Mermaid stood in the corner, its once-polished surface dulled beneath layers of soot and grime. But her focus honed in on one figure—Aeris Marisong. He stood in the shadows, watching, waiting, as if he had anticipated her return. His sharp features were framed by tousled teal curls, his expression unreadable.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Someone in this room had betrayed her, and for a moment, every familiar face felt like a threat. But not Aeris. He was one of the few she knew wasn’t working against her. And yet, his gaze held an unsettling knowing, as if he already had the answers she wasn’t ready to hear.

Without a word, she crossed the room. The bloodstone pendant at her chest was a silent weight, a reminder. She felt Aeris’s eyes drop to it—the dark green and crimson-streaked stone gleaming under the lantern light.  She tried not to think of the way Magnus had trailed his fingers down the length of that chain ghost of his touch still on her skin.

"Captain," he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. Aeris stood still, waiting for an order. His posture was tense, she saw it in the way he stood there.

"Aeris," she sang his name, her voice trembling under the weight of the night. The evening had unraveled her, every moment a thread pulled loose, threatening to undo her entirely.

Around them, the crew continued their revelry, smiles exchanged and laughter filling the air. Tankards clinked on tables, bets being placed with boisterous enthusiasm. Shortdrop and Sour sat together, arm wrestling, offering her casual nods of acknowledgment. Half of the crew was here, the other half aboard the Crowe.

He reached out a steadying hand, and she took it without hesitation. Her fingers trembled with exhaustion. The weight of her dress felt heavier now.   Sanguine’s dark gaze looked over the room once more. Her eyes looked over her crew she had trusted them, yet somone here or on the Crowe threatened the peace she was fighting to keep.

"Sing them to sleep," she whispered only loud enough for Aeris to hear. He stilled at her words, his fingers squeezed her hand tightly. 

The command was not given lightly. She alone was immune to his gift—a siren’s voice, a cursed blessing from the mother who bore him into a world that saw him as anathema. Aeris' gifts like hers were deadly, Siren's voice and the gifts of the Aquarri magic flowed through his veins they were a pair.

She heard him take a breath beside her, a quiet moment before his voice unfurled—a single note, slow and deliberate, resonating through the room. The melody wove sleep into its threads, subtle as the tide pulling out to sea. One by one, the crew drifted into reverie, never knowing how effortlessly he had ensnared them.

"Deep calls deep where the dark tides turn,
Soft as silk, let the waters churn,
Close your eyes, let the stillness creep,
Sink, my loves, into endless sleep."

She watched him, captivated, as the haunting lullaby flowed from his lips. There was a depth of beauty in Aeris’s voice, something raw and untouchable—only for her to savor. His voice ebbed and flowed like the tide itself, each note curling into the next. She felt his hand squeeze hers as he sang.

"The waves are waiting, hush, hush, hush…
Night is calling, hush, hush, hush…
One by one, let dreams take hold,
Cold as sorrow, pale as gold…”

The words wound through the room, pulling at the hearts of the crew as they were gently drawn into his siren’s song. She knew they wouldn’t remember this moment—when they awoke, they would assume nothing had changed.

As his voice continued, the final words spilled from his lips, almost a whisper now, the lull of the sea pulling them deeper into sleep.

“Tide takes hold, soft and slow,
Weightless drift where no winds blow,
Safe below, where none shall weep,
Sink, my loves, into endless sleep...”

Heads hit tables, bodies slumped over, ale spilling across worn wood. What had once been a room of raucous laughter and murmured schemes dissolved into a symphony of snores and hushed breaths. Aeris sang until the last voice faded, until they were well and truly under.

She watched him from the corner of her eye—his presence both ethereal and formidable, a weapon wrapped in silk. Sanguine glanced down, realizing her hand was still in his, as if she had glimpsed a fragment of his power through that touch. Aeris was someone she had plucked from the sea itself, given stability in a world that had cast him aside. In return, he had given her his unwavering loyalty.

She ascended the steps, her satin dress flowing like liquid around her, silent as the tide. As they entered the chamber prepared for her, even the guard outside lay slumped in enchanted sleep. Aeris shut the door behind them with deliberate care.

The room was steeped in quiet luxury—a thick velvet carpet, a grand four-poster bed draped in rich satin sheets. The hearth crackled with a well-banked fire, casting shadows against the desk littered with papers. At the foot of the bed, a locked chest held her most guarded belongings.

"Are you going to tell me whom you’ve sworn a blood oath to?" Aeris’ voice, rich and haunting, curled around her like a specter in the dim light.

Sanguine felt his fingertips brush the rose-cut pendant at her chest, tilting it just enough for the firelight to catch the deep green and crimson hues before he let it fall, cooling once more against her skin. His gaze remained unreadable, a silence settling between them as he plucked the red rose from her hair, twirling it absently between his fingers.

“The Admiral,” she whispered, reaching out to take the rose back.Settling it back into her hair.

Aeris arched a brow, watching her carefully. "This is dangerous," he murmured, voicing what she already knew.

"Someone is betraying me," Sanguine admitted, the words hanging in the air. Saying them aloud didn’t change the weight of their truth. It didn't change the blood oath she'd sworn hours before to the Admiral.

With practiced ease, she began shedding the confines of her burgundy satin dress. She loosened the corset ties, drawing in a steady breath as the fabric slipped from her shoulders, cascading to the floor in a whispering pool of satin. The firelight danced across her tanned skin, revealing a form rarely seen outside her usual armor of attire.

Aeris said nothing, his expression unreadable as she stood before him in black undergarments. Without hesitation, she turned toward the locked chest at the foot of the bed, kneeling to unlock it. The light glinted over her skin, revealing marks From The Sunken, scarred lines that marred her flesh, leaving their imprint. She pulled out a black silk shirt and leather trousers, quickly slipping them on. Her fingers deftly unclipped the small gun from her thigh.

“You swore an oath to the Sea Devil, on what?” Aeris’ voice was sharp, his tone carrying an edge of suspicion.

She turned as she buttoned up the blouse, meeting his gaze with a steady look. Her bare feet padded softly across the thick velvet carpet. Did she have an answer for him? How could she explain that, somewhere between the dinner and the dangerous words spoken, she had given a piece of herself to the Admiral—something she hadn't known she was capable of?

“Trust. He risked everything to tell me,” Sanguine confessed, holding the red rose that still lingered in her hair.

“Trust is everything, isn’t it? But if someone in this building—below or near— is betraying us, how will we find out?” Aeris’ words were laced with concern as he leaned back against her bed.

Sanguine turned toward the window, gazing out at the Point of Veil and the vast ocean beyond. The waves stirred beneath her, echoing the churn of her emotions. Her eyes spied the red sails of the Crowem, someone there could be the culprit as well. She felt the pull of Lunestra, the moon, and the call of the Sunken, always present, always near. Aeris lay back on her bed, his gaze still fixed on her, yet unspoken understanding passed between them.

“I’m to meet him tomorrow at the Sea Scribe Library. He has proof,” Sanguine said, her voice soft but firm. She turned back toward the bed, where Aeris patted the spot beside him. She slipped onto the mattress, her body settling next to his.

She almost never slept—too many thoughts, too much turmoil—but with Aeris, it was different. He often kept watch over her, ensuring she wasn't alone in the darkness of the night. It was a trust that allowed for moments like this—quiet, unspoken, yet shared.

The guard outside snored loudly, the sound breaking the silence of the room. Sanguine stifled the smallest of giggles, her chest lifting with a rare sense of ease. In that fleeting moment, Aeris plucked the flower from her hair again, watching her as she stared at it.

"Is the Admiral a romantic?" Aeris teased, his voice soft but pointed.

"Aeris, you know I’m not going to tell you," she replied, her voice tinged with amusement but edged with a hint of discomfort. The faint blush creeping from her neck colored her cheek as he held the flower just out of her reach.

Sanguine rested her other hand on the rose pendant that hung around her neck, her fingertips absentmindedly running over the edges. Her mind began to drift toward plans—how to catch the one who had betrayed her. How she would strip them, apart pieces by piece send them to the depths.

As she thought, she caught the flicker of a subtle, almost imperceptible change. Aeris had used just the slightest bit of his gifts to enchant the red rose before he set it back in her hair. It pulsed with his magic, it would never wilt now.

“You aren’t sentimental, but I think we should keep this one,” he said quietly, his voice almost teasing, though there was a depth to it that she couldn’t ignore.

Sanguine met his gaze for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Aeris rarely showed sentiment—he was too guarded for that—but there was something in the way he spoke, something soft and almost protective, that made her pause.

She didn’t reply immediately, letting the quiet stretch between them. Aeris, ever perceptive, didn’t press her further. They both understood that sometimes, silence was more meaningful than words.Sanguine fell somewhere between sleep and rest. Her mind danced back to the all words left unspoken by Magnus...