The first time you sailed out to sea, you were usually filled with excitement.
Every wave, every fish, every cloud in the sky, and every seabird seemed so fresh and fascinating. Even standing on deck watching them all day would never grow tiresome.
But by your tenth or hundredth voyage, that feeling had long since vanished, leaving only the boredom and frustration of drifting endlessly across a seemingly boundless sea.
"Hey, John, my boy, cheer up. Out at sea, boredom is a good thing." The old sailor Morrison took a swig of liquor and patted John on the shoulder, his face flushed red. "At least it means we haven't run into a storm or anything strange, and we're all still alive and well. Doesn't it?"
"Anything strange? What do you mean?"
The question came from a young sailor named Peter. This was his first voyage, and he was brimming with enthusiasm and curiosity about everything.
"Hello there, little Peter Pan." Old Morrison poured another mouthful of liquor down his throat. Some spilled out, and he casually wiped it away with his sleeve. "Want to hear a story, lad?"
Peter nodded eagerly.
"All right, give me a hand."
Peter immediately reached out to support old Morrison and, following his directions, helped him sit down on some bags of supplies near the mast.
"This happened to me, you know. Back when I was your age, on my very first voyage..."
The other sailors exchanged knowing smiles when they saw old Morrison sitting there with the newcomer.
One of the more mischievous sailors called out, "Hey, old Morrison! Making up stories to fool the new boy again?"
"What nonsense! I lived through every bit of it!"
Old Morrison grumbled his rebuttal, then let out a drunken hiccup.
"Lad, I'm only telling you this because you remind me of myself when I was young. Have you ever heard of Sirens...?"
"You mean the creatures in stories, with faces as beautiful as young women, who sing to bewitch sailors and drag them into the water to eat them...? Aren't those just legends?"
"It was my first voyage then. I didn't know a thing, just like you now... At some point, a thick fog rolled in over the sea. Everything was shrouded in mist, and we couldn't see clearly. Then, suddenly, singing drifted across the water. A woman's voice..."
The words were indistinct, the melody strange and ethereal, yet full of mournful longing. Anyone who heard it could not help recalling the past and losing themselves in their memories.
Only when the young Morrison tripped over a rope and came to his senses did he realize he was already standing at the ship's rail. Beside him, his companions were walking toward the sea with vacant eyes, as though bewitched. Oblivious to everything, they lined up and climbed over the railing one by one, jumping into the ocean.
Morrison was terrified, but no matter how loudly he shouted or how hard he pulled at them, they did not react. They simply kept heading toward the singing with unwavering purpose.
In the midst of his panic, the haunting song drifted over again, and Morrison instantly fell into a daze. Fortunately, he managed to stab himself with the dagger he carried, and the pain brought him back to his senses.
"There was nothing else I could do. I plugged my ears and tied my companions up one by one, lashing them to the mast so they couldn't move, until the singing slowly faded away. We lost almost half our crew that time. But afterward, apart from me, none of them remembered a thing..."
Old Morrison tipped his head back, swallowed the last mouthful from his wineskin, and rolled up his sleeve.
"Look. This is the scar it left."
Peter stared at the scar on old Morrison's arm, but before he could even express his shock, someone nearby laughed and exposed the lie.
"Morrison, you're always fooling people. Didn't you get that scar when you were drunk and insisted on dueling someone, then lost your footing and cut yourself?"
That sent everyone into gales of laughter.
Peter felt a little deflated. So it had all been made up.
He sighed, stood up, and stretched, only to freeze halfway through.
"M-Morrison, there really is fog! Come and look!"
Old Morrison yawned. "How could there be? We're due clear skies for the next two or three days. Old Morrison's eyes are never wrong..."
"It's real! It really is! Look!"
Before Peter could say anything more, faint singing suddenly drifted over from the distance. The voice was ethereal and enchanting, as though a young woman were singing out on the sea.
"Did you all hear something?"
Everyone exchanged uneasy looks. Even old Morrison was half sobered up.
"N-no way. Have I really run into a Siren after telling stories about them for most of my life?"
Now everyone's heart was in their throat, and they nervously tightened their grips on their weapons.
But they waited and waited, and nothing else happened. Even the singing they had heard at the start disappeared.
"Could it have been a dolphin? Or an orca?"
"Yes, that's quite possible."
"It must have been. Dolphins and orcas sometimes sound like young women singing."
"That has to be it."
"Yes, yes, that's definitely what happened."
With everyone chiming in, they settled on that explanation.
"Wait! Does anyone else think we've drifted off course?!"
Whoever spoke, their words were like a ladle of cold water thrown into boiling oil. The entire ship erupted.
Some had already pulled crosses from beneath their collars, clasping them in both hands and murmuring prayers to God.
Seeing his companions like this, the young sailor Peter could not help feeling his heart pound with fear.
"Morrison, think of something!"
"Yes, don't you have experience with this?"
Morrison smiled bitterly. What old sailor didn't have a few sea legends tucked away? Otherwise, how boring would those long voyages be?
Alas, he had been right after all. Out at sea, boredom was a good thing.
"Anyway, we're all fine for now. Let's go check the wheelhouse first."
Indeed, perhaps the scene had been so similar to old Morrison's story that everyone had panicked for a moment. Now that they had regained their senses, their stubborn resolve as sailors returned.
But before they could go check the wheelhouse, the first mate came out.
"Everyone, the magnetic field was a little unstable just now, and the compass was off. Everything's fine now."
That was a relief.
The thick fog around them began to disperse, and sunlight shone on the deck once more. Everyone let out a long breath of relief.
"Hey, look! There's land!"
Peter's startled cry sent everyone looking.
"It looks like a small island."
"Is that smoke over there?"
"There seems to be someone on the beach!"
"Yes! There is someone!"
"Quick, lower a boat!"
The ship descended into another flurry of activity.
While everyone's attention was drawn to the figure on the island, a blue-purple shape flashed past the stern and vanished.