Chapter Title: Sirens

"Log entry number two: Sirens.

I gotta admit, I thought they were the same as mermaids. And maybe depending on who you're talking to, they can be.

But these things weren't anything like Ariel. Geeze! I'm stationed in a town by the sea and ever since my encounter with Rainbow I remain curious about life at sea.

I know I'm a SEAL but I meant the other dangerous life at sea. I wonder if just anyone can find these things.

Is it my sense of adventure that lets me see these creatures or can any ole shmuck see them? I couldn't risk anyone's life like that, so I thought I'd have to live that that question for the rest of my life. When I'm not on patrol or in training, I wander around and get cozy with the locals. I listen to them every day, play with the kids on the street, and sit down and eat at their markets.

I used to be a hella a picky eater, but now I eat whatever. Sometimes it's delicious! Other times it haunts me and my bathroom for days. There are other SEAL's who do the same. There are those who think it's stupid and a waste of time. To each their own, I guess.

I'm the only one who asks about the mythologies though. Some of the SEAL's think me stupid when I ask on land, but you should see how superstitious those fuckers get when out at sea. Even the most scientific, logical, no-nonsense SEAL respects the mysteries of the sea. Plus I tell them it's for gathering material the next time we're docked and in a tavern and needs a good ghost story to spook us before shipping out.

Anyway, back to the point before I ramble too much about my team.

I befriended a local. For the sake of secrecy and safety, we'll call him...uh, Buck. Yeah, Buck.

Buck and I hit it off pretty great. His dog tackled me trying to get a piece of however the hell you pronounce the thing I was eating. It was like a burrito but not.

We went halfsies. Me and Zap, not Buck. Buck had to get his own food. But he invited me to tag along as an apology. I always wanted a dog but Pa never allowed it.

Ford and I used to play with just about any animal we found, but the closest thing we ever got to a pet was the raccoon that lived in the alley. We named him El Diablo.

Ford and I were convinced that thing was related to the Jersey Devil.

Anyway, back to Buck and me. So he takes me to the great local places and we chow down. I told him the story about El Diablo in a butchered attempt to speak the native language. Then the fucker laughs at me and speaks in English! He said he learned English young from Missionaries that passed by and worked at the church his family goes to. I asked him about local legends, see if there's anything worth exploring and what do you know, he hits me with this. Sirens. I do a bit of research but the books here aren't in English so don't quote me on this stuff. Sirens are best known for singing one hell of a tune that drew sailors to their deaths.

They were formerly handmaidens and best friends of the goddess Persephone. When she was secretly abducted by Hades on the island of Capri, Demeter gave them the bodies of birds and sent them to assist in the search. After finding no sign of Persephone, they instead settled on the flowery island of Anthemoessa.

It was here that they would sing their enchanting song that would lure sailors to their death, as no one could resist their song and the people would drown trying to reach them. However, the Argonauts managed to pass by unharmed thanks to Orpheus, who used his song and poetry to shield his shipmates from the song of the Sirens. Odysseus also managed to pass by ordering his crew to tie him to the mast, disarm him, and plug their ears, so that they would know when they had passed safely by seeing Odysseus' reaction.

Depending on the myth, their numbers and names tend to change. In the Odyssey, Homer says there were two but gives them no names. Other myths say there are anywhere from two to five Sirens. The Sirens have been given names such as Peisinoe, Aglaope, and Thelxiepeia or other variations of.'

"What's with the face?"

"What face?" Ford asked as he looked up from the notebook.

Fiddleford was eating half of a sandwich, which made Ford look to his side to see the other half. He hadn't noticed when it got there. Or the cup of tea next to it. He assumed it'd been hot when it arrived. Now it was cold.

"You look like yer' bout to have an aneurysm."

"I do not."

"Do too. That's your aneurysm face. Watcha readin' bout?" Fiddleford asked before taking a big bite from his sandwich.

"Sirens. Stanley's writing about them."

"Oh? Golly...he actually survived their song?"

"I stopped reading but there are more entries after this so I assume so. And at the moment he's only describing chatting up the locals, becoming friendly with them, and learning their lore." Ford explained.

"That's smart. Kind of exciting too." Fiddleford commented with slight excitement.

"Yeah..." Ford didn't share the excitement.

"So...why with the face?"

Ford was quiet for a long moment before he finally answered. "He seems...happy."

"That's good, right?"

"It is. Yeah, I just...I thought we had to grow up. Give up all the childish dreams and foolish hopes if we wanted to succeed. Stanley didn't. And he found a loophole. One that worked."

"But yer happy too right? Or you were. Right now you're in a slump but it's not like it's forever. You had yer own dreams and you followed them. Just cos they're different from yer brother's don't mean you ain't successful."

Ford sighed. Fiddleford that a point. "If Stan had been here, I probably wouldn't have needed to go looking for Bill. Or he'd at least be able to see through his sham. I was taken in like a sucker because of my pride. The same pride that kept me from contacting my brother in over a decade. Now here I am living in fear and paranoia that I might lead to the world's end while dealing with my new-found guilt and my brother managed to hold on to his own dreams without carrying the burden of my pride..."

"Well...I don't have much to offer in comfort. But I am proud of you Ford. Your emotional constipation is moving along!"

"Thanks..." Ford deadpanned.

"Read the rest of his entry. I'll go clean this up." Fiddleford said, meaning their lunch.

Ford nodded and picked up where he left off.

"'The Sirens sing the truth about what you desire. They tell you things about yourself you didn't even realize. That's what's so enchanting. If you survive, you are said to become wiser.' That's what Buck says anyway. I did my best to seem like just another run of the mill nerd, but the next morning when I asked myself on to a fisherman's boat, guess who joins me on my 'quest'?

Apparently, I was more eager to hear all the tales he knew to just be a 'run of the mill nerd'. He wasn't there to stop me either or call me foolish.

No, he wanted to come along. He craved adventure and wanted to see the tales he grew up on. I tried to talk him out of it, but not very convincingly. I told him I was very well trained and had a natural charisma that monsters, or people, didn't like. I'd be fine on my own. Buck reminded me that the best adventures come from the best teams. I couldn't argue with him there. And like I said, I didn't want to do this alone. I'd become very used to have people around me, as weird as it was. The whole loner thing wasn't all that it's cracked up to be. Plus as the saying goes, 'The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.'

God knows I wouldn't have survived without my family. Granted, a pack of wolves sounds only a little bit cooler than a heard of SEALs.

Ford had to stop again. Why was reading this so hard? What were these emotions that rose inside of him? Why were they even there? He knew he'd been a bad brother. He knew he was prideful and that he'd been childish! So why, then, did he still feel like this?

Why did it hurt to read that Stan had a family outside of the Pines clan?

When did he become the lone wolf? And why did it bother him so much?

'The whole loner thing wasn't all that it's cracked up to be.'

"The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives..." Ford muttered. He thought he'd been an Alpha all this time. Brave and strong enough to tackle any weirdness that came at him. But he wasn't. He was a gullible, naive, feral omega that was lured towards power. Without a pack to help him survive. But before he delved too far into that, he kept reading.

"We'd left on calm waters and though the sky promised some choppy waves, as we got closer to this island, the waters just got worse. The crew hunkered down below deck and invited us to come along. We didn't. Buck warned me that the closer we got the more likely the chances we'd heard the siren's song. He had earplugs in his ears but before he could offer me a pair...I heard it. Through the wind and storm, I heard a melody. I can't for the life of me describe it but it had me. A pull too strong surged through me and I couldn't fight it. I didn't want to. Without thinking, I ran toward the water. Buck tried to pull me back, but I was taller and stronger. Not to mention the stormed that picked up and the tall waves that splashed on board didn't leave too much friction for Buck to use.

So I jumped.

I didn't care what was in the water, I probably wouldn't have cared if I knew how to swim, but good thing I did. Though to be honest it didn't matter. The waters were way too choppy and we were too far from shore. The crew was bunkered down and even if Buck managed to explain the situation, I doubt they'd help. I wasn't from around there, and I came willingly knowing the risk. Many souls had been lost at sea, and they'd accept pretty easily that I'd just be another one.

And me? Well, I kept swimming towards that island. Around me, everything was dark and gloomy, depressing and sad. But in my mind, it was sunny and warm. I could easily see the beach within reach. I was almost there...almost home! The Stan O' War was complete and ready to ship off to any corner of the world! And Ford wa-

Ford slammed the notebook shut. His shoulders shook and he fought back against the tears but still, a few escaped. He was sure he felt Fiddleford's presence but the other didn't bother him this time. And he was thankful.

Taking a few moments to meditate, he managed to start reading again. There wasn't much left for this entry anyway. He just skipped the rest of what Stan's siren song entailed.

'A wave crashed over me and dragged me under a few feet. The rush of water in my ear stopped the song an I had clarity again. I could hold my breath for a long time thanks to my training, but not forever. Going up for air was hard. The waters were stronger than me, and even if I managed to go topside, the song had me under its spell again. Even if I fought, the distance was too great from shore and by now also the boat. In the moments of clarity under water, I assumed this was it and I was going to die.

I didn't and I can't really tell you why not. I lost consciousness after another wave dragged me under. I struggled for as long as I could. I thought I felt movement, but it could have been a passing current. As I said, I can't really tell you what happened in these moments.

When I woke up, it was on a beach.

But that's another tale for another entry.

Signing off,

Stanley P.'