lua wai | water cave |
moku hau'oli | happy ship |
māhū pō | night vision |
'enlelo ma'alahi | siren language |
'aka'aka | fuck |
moe ʻino ʻoe iā ʻoe
| damn you to hell |
kāʻoki ʻia
| dipshit |
Kanikau | lament |
Hilahila | confusion |
Nani | beaut |
Ōpala | garbage |
Hilahila still may not be the best at holding a casual conversation underwater, but she was gifted by swearing so creatively that even Kanikau couldn’t keep up. The mackerel Hilahila was hunting was currently receiving this brash treatment as it kept darting through small holes in the rocky shallows. “ʻAkaʻaka!” She exclaimed. “Moe ʻino ʻoe iā ʻoe, when I catch you, I will rip your head off!” She clicked angrily. Before it swam out into the open ocean, Hilahila (accidently) body slammed it against the stone and crushed it. She held the limp body as she rubbed the small scrape she received from her overeager catch.
She settled down on the sandy floor and looked to the surface. The sun was shining bright and looking up was almost painful. Hilahila didn’t remember anything before meeting Kanikau, but a feeling in her gut told her she didn’t belong down below. The gentle waves distorting the sunrays beckoned her to breach and explore what was beyond, what Kanikau called the above-world. Leaving the mackerel on the shallow’s sand, she hesitantly paddled closer and let the sun slowly warm up her skin. She stayed beneath the surface just staring at the barrier, unsure what would happen if she would break it. Surely nothing would happen, right? It wasn’t as if the air above would be poisonous to the touch; their gills filtered out oxygen to breathe anyway, why would that air be any different? “Just filter out the oxygen from up here,” She muttered to herself and lifted herself above the waves. They lapped gently at her neck as she struggled with taming her wet hair that weighed her down. Hilahila soon discovered that filtering oxygen out of above-world air wasn’t as easy as she hoped it would be; her gills sputtered and spat without the flow of water to push through her filter. She fruitlessly waved her webbed hands towards her gills hoping to help but she sank back into the water defeated and out of breath.
Hilahila debated whether it was worth vigorously waving air to her neck again or if she would eventually end up passing out from foolishness but was distracted by what sounded like…pawing? She was hesitant to look around, scared for the first time under the waves. She had previously made a point to stick near the cliffs or in the shallows as she wasn’t as adventurous as Kanikau just drifting above deep caverns yet. There couldn’t be anything too big or dangerous up by the shores, she was sure of it. Hilahila gathered up what little courage she currently had and glanced towards the sound. It was a…something, but it was nipping at her hard-earned mackerel! She sped towards the creature waving her arms, “Scram, kāʻoki ʻia!” The beast indignantly neighed, or as close as it could to a neigh underwater.
Now, that its attention was on Hilahila, she could see the front half looked like a…horse? That word sounded right in her mind, and something seemed to be just out of her grasp. She screwed up her eyes feeling that a past memory was trying to peek out of the fog that kept her in the dark, but nothing came. She huffed frustrated and the half-horse beast imitated her. “Hey, that’s not very nice,” Hilahila put her hands on her hips and pouted with her bottom lip jutting out. The beast didn’t have any hands of its own, only fins and a flowy fish tail, but it still seemed to look guilty. She rolled her eyes but now playfully, and the beast copied her. “If you give me the mackerel, I can take you to some actual tasty food for you.” She offered her hand out half-expecting it to deposit the fish in her palm, but alas it was only a half horse…thing…and didn’t understand a word she was saying. Perhaps Kanikau would know what this beast was and what to call it. Now that she was closer (since she had to grab the mackerel herself), it was very beautiful for whatever genetic splicing it endured. The horse half was covered with short, coarse dark hair that was somewhat soft to the touch. The fish half’s scales were a little lighter than the hair and almost had a dappling pattern under the sunlight. Its…wait, her (though Hilahila felt awkward checking) …fins were the same color as her scales but thicker than either of the sirens’ own webbed fins.
“You’re a real beaut,” She reached out her hand and the beast allowed her to stroke its neck. “Not cute enough to eat my mackerel but I bet we can find you some seagrass or something.” She gave a few more reassuring pats and swam a few meters away. Thankfully she felt a velvety muzzle against her hair and knew she was following close behind. “Let’s get you home, beaut.”
The name stuck, beaut or Nani, became a new staple to the sirens. She would accompany Hilahila hunting and loved swimming with Kanikau on patrols. Hilahila would much rather have Nani with her hunting though, it went much more, should she say swimmingly, with her. Hilahila also felt a little better as Kanikau didn’t know what Nani was either, so they kept referring to her as a beast. Kanikau wasn’t as fond of her as Hilahila was as the beast ate through their stores of seagrass and kelp at an alarming rate, but Nani was slowly charming her even earning some pats on good days.
On one of these good days with Kanikau busy on gathering close to the coral reef, Hilahila was determined to look closer at the book (yes, if she thought about what it looked like, book seemed to be the best descriptor) Kanikau kept from her prying eyes. Underneath a small pile of pebbles next to the bed of woven kelp the captain slept on, Hilahila carefully removed the mysterious book. Curiously, the bound cover and pages within felt dry even with spending what looked like to be decades in the ocean. Her fingers carefully caressed the very first page; it was blank except for the initials T.A.S. Keeping one eye darting back to the alcove entrance, she turned the page and this time found that it was filled with handwritten notes.
To whom it may concern:
I will start to write down my current observations here instead of the official logbook in fear I be deemed insane. Even the act writing it down seems illogical, but I want a record to prove that I am not going mad! Should it be the saltwater finally claiming me, at least this will follow me in whatever fate I fall upon. The captain was gracious enough to cast a waterproof spell on this book, but I must not waste too much ink and pages on introductions lest I run out. I do not want to impose my silly whims onto the people that pay me. I am keeping this book on my person at all times so no one can stumble upon my ramblings.
But I SWEAR I am hearing some sort of melody when I’m on night watch.
Hilahila was pleasantly surprised that she could understand the script. It certainly wasn’t ʻenlelo maʻalahi (it would be hard to annotate different clicks and gestures), but she also wasn’t sure what language it was written in; it was on the tip of her tongue! Fidgeting, she flipped to the next page. This one looked more official with the date and time clearly labeled at the very top.
05/13/1875
02:17
I am on watch once more and am writing in fear of dozing off. Ever since I acquired this book to write down my thoughts on recent events, all the unusual activity seems to have stopped. I would think I’m going mad, but McGlellan mentioned hearing noises some nights while falling asleep. I pray that we are hearing the same noise and my mind isn’t slipped. Only time will tell I suppose.
Engrossed in the logs, she quickly read through the next few pages.
05/15/1875
08:42
The water is choppy, and my writing is barely legible, but this is the first time I have heard something strange in the daylight! Overmiller and Connwaer both confirmed they heard something but are convinced it’s due to the poor weather conditions. They might be correct as the wind is dying down and the sea is calming once more.
05/18/1875
01:57
It’s as clear as day, the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard is coming from the sea. I think back to the old tales of creatures from the sea that call to unsuspecting sea farers and lure them down to the deep. They’re nothing but a tall tale told by mothers who’re concerned about their children running off into the waves. Although...I am beginning to wonder if those tales are based on some sort of truth. If I close my eyes I can almost imagine what it would feel like to gently sink beneath the waves. Being claimed by something as powerful and as vast as the ocean, feeling special to have been chosen out of all the sailors on the sea...not many people could claim that, no?
Singing coming from the sea? No wonder this T.A.S. wanted to keep this notebook a secret. It all sounded crazy, but Hilahila kept rereading the passage mentioning creatures of the sea pulling sailors under. She made a note to keep an eye out for such creatures. She had gotten lucky with sociable Nani and didn’t want to get ripped to shreds by a new sea creature. She was so caught up in thinking about the scary creatures when a dark hand swiftly snatched the book from Hilahila with a growl. “What are you doing in my room?” Kanikau snapped, crossing her arms over the book against her chest. “And why are you snooping with things that aren’t yours?”
“I-I-I…” Hilahila stuttered trying to come up with a proper reason. She was saved by Kanikau just spinning around and leaving, casting an annoyed glance as she went. Perhaps Hilahila didn’t have to be worried about any singing creatures if she had Kanikau’s wrath hanging over her head.
Kanikau kept the book glued to her side during the next couple weeks with the added bonus of thoroughly ignoring Hilahila. She couldn’t explain why she felt such an urge to keep the book from her hunter but wasn’t about to question a gut feeling. She sat with the book on her knees opened up to a random page and stroked the soft paper. She didn’t understand what the black scribbles were but had a feeling Hilahila might. Would that be a good thing? Hilahila could possibly tell her what secrets were inside but again, Kanikau wanted to know first and perhaps it was something only the captain should know. Hilahila poked her head into her alcove and put her hand over her eyes when she saw the book in plain sight. “Would you like a mackerel, Kanikau?” She asked. Kanikau refused to answer and eventually Hilahila left with a sigh. Kanikau resumed her ponderings.
A couple tense months had passed and Kanikau wasn’t any closer to figuring out what the book held, and there wasn’t really any way for Kanikau to learn anyhow. She found Hilahila crouching near the entrance of her claimed alcove with black squid’s ink smeared on her hands. Kanikau immediately forgot about the book tucked underneath her arm. “Why are you making a mess?”
Hilahila threw up her hands exasperated. “I found an ink sac and wanted to paint my walls.” She gestured to the black mess staining her top and the floor. “But it burst and now it is everywhere!”
Kanikau clicked in disappointment. “That was a foolish idea from the start. Why do you need the cave black? It gets dark enough at nighttime in here; it’s dark enough now and it’s the middle of the day.”
“No, I was going to…” Hilahila shut her eyes to concentrate on saying the correct words, “I wanted to draw on the walls. Pretty pictures and patterns.”
Hearing the words patterns turned Kanikau’s attention back to the notebook. She held it up but kept it out of Hilahila’s reach, though this time for a more practical purpose. The book might have been cast with a waterproof spell, but she doubted it would protect against ink. “You know this script inside, right?” Hilahila hesitated, so she called her out. “So, that is a yes then.”
“I can read it.”
“Read?”
“It is not in ʻenlelo maʻalahi, but I am still somehow able to read it.” Hilahila still spotted the slight confusion on Kanikau’s face. “Someone wrote words down in their own language for others to read. I know what ‘T.A.S.’ was trying to tell others.”
“T.A.S.?”
“I guess those are the writer’s initials, so their first name starts with a…” Hilahila tried to form the sound of “T” but couldn’t really do it justice in ʻenlelo maʻalahi. “Each of their names starts with that letter.” She pointed to the initials.
Kanikau snorted trying to not show her frustration at not fully following what the hunter was saying. This must be information she retained from the above-world but only subconsciously if she wasn’t certain how she could read the book. “Well, what about the rest?” She snapped. Hilahila wiped the ink off the best she could and held out her hands. Kanikau reluctantly handed the book over.
Hilahila skipped the first few pages that she had previously read months before. She was too interested on seeing what else was in there and didn’t want to waste time catching Kanikau up. They could do that later.
“05/18/1875
9:45
This is my last entry in this book. If I wasn’t mad before, I certainly am now. Looking back at last nights (technically this mornings) ravings, shows this is a dangerous waste of time.
06/01/1875
23:56
I have found myself reaching for this notebook countless times, but I could not resist the urge tonight. Captain Broward instructed us to not talk about the music; he never said not to write about it. If something happens to our ship, I want my sister to know what became of me. So, Alexandria, if you ever come in contact with this book, I regret to inform you of our demise. It’s the beautiful melody, I doubt we can resist for long. I don’t hear it every night, but it has followed us along our summer journey.
06/05/1875
3:29
I am assigned on night watch and usually that is the role dreaded but any sailor as staying alert all night is quite taxing. Alas, I am joined by four other crew members all listening to the music. I strain every night to make out the sounds, but I do not recognize any known language. Yet it is still irresistible.”
It took Hilahila longer to read out loud as she had to translate to ʻenlelo maʻalahi in her head. She paused, a headache starting to form behind her eyes from all of this brain power, and Kanikau snatched the book back. She ran her hands back and forth over the cover with a strange look on her face. “Do you know what creatures sing in the sea?” Hilahila asked. “They sound dangerous.”
“Dolphins and whales sing. Lots of creatures sing down here. They aren’t very specific in their writings.” Kanikau shrugged but kept her eyes trained on the book. “And anything can be dangerous in the ocean.”
“Nani isn’t.”
“Nani is as big as two fully grown dolphins. She could be dangerous if she wanted.” Kanikau rose from her sitting position. “This book is worthless.” Hilahila started to protest but it fell on deaf ears. Kanikau was swimming quickly away, determined that Hilahila would never finish reading the rest of the book in case she connected her circumstance with what seemed to be growing into a very similar circumstance.
Trevor traversed the seven seas. Trevor, not Travis, had seen each of the seas, and if he were to interject, it’d be enough for me. Yes, he did interject, he did suspect, having traversed the seas, all seven, he saw all that could be seen and very tired was he.
Now if only he had something to write his foolish ramblings, he would be happy.
Kanikau cracked her neck; she had left the book hidden in a deeper set of caves connected to the sirens’ front rooms but was still anxious leaving it out of her sight. Why was she so concerned about Hilahila being kept in the dark? She’s going to start remembering glimpses of her past soon, and I can’t just stop singing and luring victims…podmates…to the abyssi, she thought. Now, she rolled her shoulders continuing to crack her neck leaning side to side.
“Your head’s gonna fall off at this rate,” A cheery male voice caused her to spin and glower at it. The voice was connected to a tall lanky man with hot pink hair and an official looking jacket with lots of buttons tied at the waist with a pieced of flayed rope. Definitely another siren, Kanikau glanced at the scar tissue binding his legs together. His māhū pō must be covered by his clothes. He saw her annoyance and offered a crooked grin. “Just joshing around, doll.” Kanikau didn’t like this man. It might be in her best interest to just ignore him, but oh no, now that she locked eyes with him once, he was tied to her side. “I haven’t seen another siren for ages,” He rambled, “I’m sure I passed by some but most really aren’t the social type, you know.”
“Mmhm,” Kanikau rolled her eyes. She had a feeling she would be doing that a lot more now. And like a fool, she led him back to lua wai and there was no getting rid of him now.
“A hippocampus!” Trevor exclaimed when he spotted the beautiful creature munching on seagrass. Currently, she was getting tribal-like patterns drawn on her by another siren. The siren startled at his voice and did a double take.
“Hip-hippocampus?” She asked.
“That’s what Nani is,” His escort snapped, but Trevor had a feeling this was news to her as well.
“Squid ink probably isn’t the best for that,” Trevor said instead. “Plus, it’s not very colorful, so where’s the fun? I use lichen to dye my hair. I can help you find better dyes if you want later.”
“…who are you?” The siren looked from the grumpy siren back to him a couple times.
“Trevor.”
An arrogant snort came from his left. “What kind of name is…Trevor?”
“It’s just my name.” Trevor shrugged. “I was unaware of the international ranking system for names.”
“Ōpala.” She muttered.
“Oh, is that your name?” Trevor was trying his best to be polite.
This elicited another snort. “It can be your nickname.”
“Bang up!” He grinned. Maybe this siren wasn’t so bad after all; he already had a nickname! Luckily, he didn’t know his new nickname was garbage.
Trevor sat next to Hilahila surrounded by a small array of dyes they created from different plants and fruits they found near the shores. She hummed while dipping her fingers into the lime green dye and with sweeping strokes, painted what looked like a happy cow on the wall. She added violet spots and a red rose behind its ear. Her humming still sounded mostly human, Trevor noted, she must have been turned relatively recently. He really wanted to ask and add that information to his brain but turning could be a very personal and touchy subject, and he had only known her for three months. Not the right time. “Do you want to try painting?” Hilahila gestured towards the dyes.
“I won’t make anything good.” Trevor said but dipped his finger in the leftover pink dye from him touching up his roots. He clumsily outlined what was supposed to be Ausonia, his old pet otter, but it looked more like a sad piece of driftwood. “I ruined your mural.”
“No, that’s a nice…” Hilahila squinted. “…fuzzy snake?”
Trevor chuckled. “Otter.”
“Really?” Hilahila tilted her head. “Oh, if you look at it this way.”
“I gave your cow a deformed friend.” Trevor also tilted his head. She was correct, it did look slightly more like an otter this way.
“Cow…” Hilahila placed her hand on her painting. “Yes, that sounds right.”
“Oh, you don’t remember much, do you?” Trevor found this was the perfect moment to slightly breach the subject of turning.
Hilahila looked surprised. “No. Nothing before Kanikau found me.” Sirens (ha) rang in Trevor’s head. Could Hilahila really just have been lost or wandering just like he was? Did Kanikau have a knack at finding lone sirens or did she already start to turn (HA) down a path of no return? “But I can read, I just don’t know how.”
“You finding messages in bottles?” Trevor flashed his usual dopey smile.
“Not exactly,” Hilahila dipped her finger in the red dye and seemingly drew what looked like a book filled with music notes without much thought. “I found…no, Kanikau found a logbook and I was able to read a few entries to her. I didn’t get to finish reading it before she took it away from me.”
Trevor audibly gasped. This was either the biggest coincidence ever or Trevor could join a dolphin pod for how high he just jumped to a conclusion. It really couldn’t be his old journal? He lost it years ago and was certain the dolphin playing tug-a-war with it would have chewed it up. “Why did she take it away?”
“I think she was just upset she doesn’t know how to read.” Hilahila had a small frown on her face. “I just don’t think it’s fair that I don’t get to know what was written just because she doesn’t know what’s written unless I tell her.”
“Hm, I don’t think that’s fair either,” Though Trevor didn’t care. He just wanted to see if he would be able to write in a waterproof journal again. He had a lot of stories to tell.
“Hey, Ōpala!” Kanikau called. “You’re going hunting with Hilahila and Nani.” Trevor hummed in agreement but was more focused on rummaging through every small pile of pebbles in Kanikau’s alcove. Hilahila said the journal was there the last time she saw it, but he wasn’t having any luck. It wasn’t here anymore. “You looking for this?” A scathing voice caused him to look sheepishly up. There Kanikau was holding his old journal with a rather murderous look on her face. “I don’t appreciate you snooping through my things.”
“That’s mine!” His shout brought a curious Hilahila and Nani to peek their heads in. Seeing how angry Kanikau was helped them stay back. “I lost it, it’s mine see!” He tried to point to his initials on the front page but Kanikau wasn’t letting him get close. “T.A.S.! Trevor Abcde Skye!”
“Why didn’t you tell me it was yours?” Hilahila said quietly from the entrance. She looked hurt.
“I didn’t know for sure, but it still has the waterproof effect! I can’t believe it held up.” Trevor said. “It’s mine, so I get to keep it and continue writing down observations.”
He swore he saw a brief flash of fear cross her face. “Finders keepers.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t think it would be beneficial to write or read anything in here.”
“Why not?” Trevor was getting to the root of her problem. “It relates to all of us here. I don’t know when you were turned, but I wrote down the process and you might find it interesting…”
“I know enough!” Kanikau yelled but at the same time Hilahila asked, “Turned?”
“You really didn’t tell her?” It was the first time either of the women heard Trevor sound even slightly less than happy. “Doesn’t she have a right to know?”
“She doesn’t need to know anything.” Kanikau hissed.
“What don’t I know?” Hilahila got braver and swam a bit closer to the arguing sirens.
“Let her read the last page, Kanikau,” Trevor’s voice dropped. “She needs to know how you brought her here.”
Kanikau had completely lost control of the situation. “Hilahila, it doesn’t matter.” Now, she was almost pleading. “I fed you and I showed you how to survive down here. Nothing else matters.”
“Let her read the last page, Kanikau, or I will recite it.”
Kanikau threw up her hands and relented. Hilahila took Trevor’s journal with shaking hands and turned to the last page (with writing on it). In an unsteady voice she read the last passage out loud.
“6/16/1875
19:00
This is Trevor Skye, deckhand of the S.S. Ausonia, on the date of June 16th, 1875, at 1900. Captain John Broward of the S.S. Ausonia is sacrificing his life for recording these observations and I believe I will die soon after.
Captain (he tells me I can call him John, but he is my Captain) opens the cabin door and we both step out. It takes every fiber of my being to keep my feet planted and Captain (I can’t find it in myself to call him John) purposefully walks to the edge. In a single motion, he dives into the sea depths. The music stops and I allow myself to go to the edge.
They have him, whatever they are. I will know refer to them as sirens like the old wife’s tales told to disobeying children. The lead siren, the only one I don’t immediately recognize, grabs Captain (I’m sorry I can’t tell your family, John) by his hair. Claws sink into his scalp as he cries out in pain. The siren’s fangs sink into the base of his neck and its claws now trace the sides of his neck, leaving deep scars. Now the others are nipping at whatever part of Captain (I’m sorry to see you like this, John) they can reach.
But I think something has gone wrong. Instead of his legs being bound together by some kind of flesh like the others, his skin seems to be flaking off. He is coming apart in chunks and the sirens are snapping them up as fast as they fall off.
There is nothing more of Captain John Broward of the S.S. Ausonia anymore except for the scattered teeth floating in the sea. The lead siren bats others’ hands away from them as it snatches them up. Now looking more closely, it looks like it has many other teeth braided into its long hair.
Now I know how my life will end but which end should I wish for?”
Hilahila let out a small cry of shock. Kanikau refused to look at either of them, her expression unreadable. “Is this what you did to me, Kanikau?” Her voice shook. “What did you rip me away from?”