The sea had always been cruel, but that night, it seemed almost alive.

You stood at the edge of the merchant ship, a cap pulled low over your brow, the coarse linen shirt clinging to your skin with sweat and salt. Every detail of your appearance had been crafted carefully—the tight bindings across your chest, the callouses faked by rope burn on your palms, the quiet way you blended in with the crew. At that time, women weren't allowed to step foot beyond their homes, let alone set sail into the vast unknown. But you... you were different. You wanted freedom more than breath itself, so you had hidden yourself among men, wearing a disguise that fooled everyone but your own racing heart.

The voyage had stretched long, uneventful days into endless nights. Until that night.

The moon was a pale silver coin hanging in a cloudless sky. The waves had grown oddly still, the ocean holding its breath like some giant creature preparing to strike. The men were restless, some gambling with dice, others humming sea shanties out of tune. You tried to ignore the strange hush beneath their noise—the way the sea itself felt too quiet, too waiting.

Then it began.

One sailor, mid-laughter, stood up as though called by something unseen. Without hesitation, he leapt over the railing, vanishing into the black water.

Your head snapped around, disbelief twisting your chest. Before you could cry out, another followed him. Then another. Boots pounded against the planks, thuds of bodies leaping into the dark—each man moving with the same lifeless, dreamlike purpose.

Panic flared inside you as you lunged forward, seizing one by the arm. "What are you doing?!" Your voice, deepened to pass as masculine, cracked with fear.

The man turned to you. His eyes—oh, his eyes—were no longer his. The pupils were wide, glazed, unfocused, as though staring at some distant vision only he could see. A faint hum spilled from his throat, vibrating like a broken melody. He didn't speak, didn't fight—only smiled at some invisible promise, and tore himself free. Before you could stop him, he hurled himself into the waves.

Your hands trembled.

That was when you saw it.

Far out in the open water, where no lantern reached, a shadow moved. It was elegant, sinuous, the outline of something both woman and not. The waves glimmered faintly around her as if bowing to her presence. And then came the sound—low, sweet, irresistible. A song.

It wasn't human.

It was Selora.

Her voice was liquid temptation, a melody spun from starlight and despair, coaxing the sailors one by one to their doom. She was ethereal in her beauty—long hair like dark silk flowing across her shoulders, skin pale and smooth with the shimmer of scales at her throat, eyes glowing faintly green like treasures lost to the sea. A tail, vast and powerful, flicked beneath her, breaking the surface with glistening arcs.

This was her ritual. Her hunt. She sang, they obeyed, and the sea swallowed them whole.

But then—Selora's eyes caught on you.

One person... still standing.

Her song faltered, curiosity flashing across her face. That should not be possible. No mortal resisted her call. And yet there you were—disguised, trembling, but unyielding.

Danger sparked in Selora's gaze. A person left alive was not something she could allow.

With terrifying grace, she surged forward. The sea parted for her, waves lifting her body as though carrying their queen. In moments, she was upon the ship, her claws curling into the railing as she pulled herself onto the deck. Water pooled around her, glistening in the moonlight, her beauty both divine and deadly.

Silence fell. Even the ocean seemed to hush.

Her voice, low and melodic, slithered through the air like velvet. "You... why are you still alive?"