The Lost Hesperus

The full moon lights the shore as an old man staggers toward a tavern. He pushes open the door, falling to his knees in the entryway. A hush comes over the regular patrons. The barkeep rushes to the haggard man with an outstretched hand. He begins to pull it back as he takes a glance around the room. There is something unsettling about this man.

The collapsed old man surges toward the barkeep and grips his hand in his own wrinkled pair.

“What city is this?” The old man’s voice is like sandpaper and cuts through the silence of the room.

“Rhodes, sir.” The barkeep’s voice cracks and he tries unsuccessfully to take his hand back.

“Rhodes!” The old man laughs with no joy. “It was Rhodes that I last saw! The ship… It was docked and I needed somewhere to hide… if I had never stolen that damn trinket…” the old man trails off.

The barkeep shook his head as the old man rambled. “Sir, I have no idea what you are talking-”

The old man pulls him close suddenly to whisper urgently in his ear. “I’ve never been called sir in my life.” Then his face relaxes and he laughs again. “Help me up. I must tell you, someone should know what’s out there. You must listen.”

It was a clear night with strong winds and the Hesperus was cutting through the waves at speed, just as she was meant to.

Unexpectedly and with a gentle snap, the wind died in the sails. The night became humid and the waves turned gentle and barely lapped at the hull of the Hesperus.

The Captain huffed, about to complain to his first mate about the calm they had entered when a call from the crow’s nest rang out.

The Captain looked in the direction indicated by his crewman. A few yards out from the Hesperus’ port side, the water was glowing a faint green.

The Captain knew the tales of the sea lights coming from the deep better than most sailors. He was beginning to shake as he ordered his first mate to get the oarsmen to their posts.

No oar had touched the water before the green light was under the ship, spreading until it surrounded the Hesperus. It glowed brighter and brighter until it burned the sailors eyes but they stayed fixated.

Ambrus peered out of the porthole. He could see shapes moving within the water illuminated by the unnatural green light. Ambrus was no sailor, he couldn’t guess at what phenomenon was happening outside. At fourteen years old, he was a year shy from even being considered for an apprenticeship.

There was a loud thud and splash from the corner of the room. Ambrus whipped around. He realized he wasn’t alone, and worried at the sound of water from inside the ship. A tarp covered a large rectangular shape. He listened closely as he approached and more sloshes and splashes came from it. The creature in the tank thudded against the glass.

He slowly lifted the tarp. He was unprepared for the sight before him as he let the tarp slip away.

A young girl stared wide eyed at him from behind the glass. Yet she was not really a girl in any sense, for a long bluish grey tail spiraled around her, ending with fins wide, flat and pointed at the tips. Where her hair should be, she had a combination of sweeping veiltail and rose-like fins that were all a deep cobalt blue with streaks of silver. The fins were long and flowed like hair around her face.

Ambrus waved timidly at the girl, who made no move. She stared at him with large eyes that were freakishly human compared to the rest of her. The fins around her face danced as she slightly tilted her head from side to side. He lifted the latch on the tank. She immediately broke the surface and gave a long stretch from her webbed fingers to her tail tip.

Ambrus quickly backed away from the tank. Every storyteller he had overheard had only one thing to say about the water nymphs, sirens and wives of the sea; stay far away.

Ambrus hoped the distance between them was enough to avoid whatever befell the poor men who got too close. It wasn’t like she could drag him out to sea or else she wouldn’t still be trapped…

“I hear the song. It won’t be long now, my bold sailor.”

The instant her voice graced his ears Ambrus felt different. He wasn’t sure what was different, just that it was a deep change or shift he exactly couldn't place.

“I’m not a sailor.” He said numbly. His lips actually felt numb. He tried massaging them back to life.

“What are you then?” She made a clicking noise, which he interpreted as disbelief.

“I’m nobody. Just a stowaway. Before this, I was an orphan—a thief. After this, I don’t know who I’ll be.” Ambrus was surprised at himself, he was not naturally so honest. His life had never encouraged honesty. “Um, what are you?”

She sank beneath the water and snorted bubbles. Her long talon-like nails tapped the side of the tank as she pulled herself back out of the water.

When she resurfaced she said. “I am Atargan. Humans don’t really know us by that name though, you’ll know my kind as sirens or mermaids or some other kelpy… silly languages make for silly words…” She said the last part to herself.

Her attention turned to trying to reach a barrel of raw shrimp a foot away from her tank.

Ambrus scooped some up in his hand and offered them to her. Standing closer than he had determined was safe but he felt no fear this time.

She took her time picking out the best shrimp and eyeing him as she did so.

“What’s your name, human?”

“Ambrus.”

“Don’t humans usually come with two or more names?”

“I didn’t know my parents, so it’s just Ambrus. One day, I hope I’ll take my wife’s family’s name... Why did I say all that?” He laughed awkwardly.

“It’s the song. You feel compelled to tell me whatever I want to hear.” She said piercing a shrimp tail with her nail lazily.

“So you are a goddess then and these men… the green light… they captured you? If I set you free, will you take out your wrath on us?”

“My wrath will be mighty.” When she said this she looked less like a young girl and more like a deep dwelling creature of the sea. Then her face softened and she looked at him with a forgiving smile. “You will not be harmed, Ambrus.” She said confidently. “Do you know why that is a funny name for a human?”

“Oh, why?” Answering her made him feel slightly out of breath. The song outside of the boat had grown louder accompanied by sounds that should cause him concern.

“Ambrus means immortal, yet humans are not, and yet you are Ambrus.” She wrinkled her nose at him and tilted her head to the side. “Isn’t that funny?”

He didn’t find it humorous, but she looked silly and young and very human at that moment. He laughed hard.

“Perhaps, I am the son of a god. Maybe when I turn 16 I’ll know if the name's meaning is prophetic.”

“Ambrus, son of Poseidon.”

“Do you know the gods? Are Atargans allowed in Olympus?”

“Humans are so strange. We live in Atarga, there are no clouds or birds or bright yellow light.”

“Atarga? I guess Olympus is the opposite of where an Atargan would like to live.”

She smiled briefly at him, then her eyes became serious. Her silvery eyes blinked twice, with two sets of lids.

It was at that moment that the song reached Ambrus and overwhelmed his mind.

“Ambrus stay here, you are mine!” She said with power in her voice, but the song was more compelling.

He became intent on escaping the room. The locked door was his first obstacle, he banged on it with a fist. His eyes scanned the room and landed at the small circle of green light shining through the porthole, a new way out presented itself.

At the same moment a new song filled the room with a sense of urgency. Falling from her open lips a green light jumped and sputtered around like lightning free from any natural constraints.

Ambrus’s attention returned to her. The Atargan changed when she sang. She took on the image of the most desirable being Ambrus could fathom. The song shrouded her figure completely in green light. Ambrus fell to his knees before the singing siren, eyes overflowing with tears. He was no longer aware of anything around him, he was her thrall, nothing else in the world mattered.

Yet the chaos from the deck finally descended below. Someone fumbled at the lock on the door before bursting in. His face was contorted with longing and pain. The Captain was fighting the song. His ears were stuffed with wax. His eyes went wide as he beheld the beautiful siren free from the tank.

She recognized the intruder immediately, her voice transformed at once, sharpening into a blade with which she wielded at her captor with a terrible intent.

The song was felt more than heard but from behind the haze in Ambrus’s mind he was able to hear these words.

Desire lured you to me;

From the seas you tried to steal me;

Behold all my disdain;

Vulgar, Weak, Licentious man;

There are none that escape me;

Your soul is now mine.

Abruptly the song ended. The Captain tried to embrace the Atargan passionately, but she stopped him. She held his wrists away from her body and his boots dangled in the air. Ambrus was in shock. He watched the green light flow into the man's face. The Captain dropped to the floor limply.

The green light was gone and the darkness in its absence looked flat to Ambrus as his eyes adjusted. Splashes and cries of sailors rang out in the strange silence that followed the song.

When Ambrus met her eyes he was her thrall once again. “What will happen now? Should I carry you on deck?”

“No, Ambrus. That won’t be necessary.” She looked down at the Captain. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I hope you don’t think…” she didn’t finish.

A huge crack sent the hull shuttering. The sound of splintering wood rolled thunder like through the night as the hull split open and the ocean rushed in.

Ambrus lurched toward the Atargan as if he could help her.

She smiled and tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I won’t let the sea take his son.”

Ambrus was protected as the young Atargan held him close maneuvering through the debris.

The barkeep sets two pints of souma in front of the lone survivor of the shipwreck.

The old man finished his tale and found his throat to be very dry. He downed one pint in seconds and reached for the next pint with relish.

The barkeep could tell when a person had been through a harrowing experience. This old man certainly believed what he was saying.

“Well, my friend, you tell this tale like it happened yesterday, but didn’t you say you were just a lad when the ship went down?”

“Yes, oh yes, I am! I at least I can’t recall changing into this…” he pats himself on the chest searching for the words to explain.

The barkeep shakes his head sympathetic to the old man he is now sure is mad with sea fever. He’s seen it before.

“Drink up then friend. When the world isn’t fair, souma sweetens the deal.”