What Lies Beneath the Surface

Misty Skies woke up in a cold sweat, panting. The room was dark with only a window open to let in the moonlight and it took his eyes a while to adjust. A few seconds later, Mist could see his room, the window open to let in the cool sea breeze, and his blankets thrown off to the side.

The nightmare had been rather vivid and more detailed than the usual, and it even took him a few breaths before he realized it was pointless to scream. A few more and he finally felt his breathing return back to normal. It was only a nightmare, but it was hard to shake the idea of it completely when he realized it was about the ship crashing.

But while there were a bunch of mysterious circumstances he saw, nothing confirmed anything about the wreck or his survival. No clear facts were presented as much as he now remembered of it. He didn’t even know how he lost the aquamarine pendant, or when.

Mist decided to go for a walk to clear his head.

It was dark outside and eerily quiet. A clock in the distance rang twice and all went silent again. A light fog had settled, but there was nothing sinister about it and would likely be cleared up with the morning sun. Mist wandered from his house towards the harbor area, and was slightly relieved to hear the sounds of the sea break the silence.

All the bars and restaurants were closed. Sirena Harbor was quiet for being a major trading post, and all the shops had closed by midnight and the town was pretty much asleep by one. Mist wandered the moonlit harbor and pier-side shops alone; a few guards were present by the main warehouses, but they took no notice of the lone Earth pony wandering around.

Mist wandered around, breathing in the clean sea air, and eventually made his way to the pier. He walked out onto the pier and noticed a bright white pegasus guard coming close, but he remained at the edge of the pier and didn’t come any closer. Mist quickly realized he wasn’t on criminal watch but suicide watch, but Mist had no compulsion to throw himself into the sea.

Mist wandered to the end of the pier and sat down. Every once in a while, the guard turned his head to double-check Mist’s position, but otherwise remained at a respectable distance. Mist figured he would only be heard if he shouted.

Mist looked over the fence surrounding the pier and into the water. There was a soft glow underneath the surface, small bioluminescent critters floating lazily around underneath the surface. Mist could see a shelf where the beach dropped off and became the open ocean, and there the water turned hazy and dark. Underneath the edge of the pier, fish played around under the wooden poles, darting in and out of the shadows under the moonlight.

It was rather pleasant to watch. Mist found himself leaning on the fence and smiling as he watched the antics of the fish below. It was neat to see the fish out like this, when no ships were expected and there was nothing to disturb them.

Two more shapes began to emerge from the depths. Mist wondered if he was about to experience a late-night shark or dolphin or orca feeding, but the two shapes looked nothing like them. Their bodies seemed streamlined like a marlin with fish-like tails, but one was bright orange and the other was a bright green; the rippling water and occasional breaking surf obscured his view.

Mist gasped at the two shapes. They came up until they were right underneath the pier and all the fish began to swarm around them. They didn’t seem to be hurting them, but some even rested along the backs of the new “fish”. Mist watched in awe as the figures seemed to go through the fish gently caressing them with their fins. This was rather strange and unprecedented behavior even to Mist’s untrained eye, and he wondered what these new fish were and what they were doing.

It was only once the fog had cleared slightly and the moonlight shown fully did Mist see the third shape.

It was slightly larger than the third one, dark blue or purple-ish with white markings like an oversized clown fish, nearly blending in with the dark waters. The third shape swam lazily around both the fish and the two other, brighter shapes. But it was also serene and peaceful, and seemed to slide swiftly and gracefully around like a Wonderbolt in the air. More fish were drawn to this one than the other two, despite the newcomer seemingly not displaying the exact same behavior.

Mist caught himself laughing, intrigued at the display.

But he soon wished he hadn’t for the orange and lime green shapes suddenly darted away and the darker shape went completely still. Mist wondered if it was staring at him and felt guilty for disturbing the scene. He pushed himself off the bannister and started to walk away.

Something caught his ear before he was more than a few paces away. It was a soft singing, indecipherable and unceasing but surprisingly beautiful. It came from the direction he had just come from, and Mist turned around. His feelings of guilt and surprise vanished and were replaced with a new intrigue.

Mist brought himself over to the railing and looked into the sea.

The purple-and-white shape was there, but now one side had a soft, swirling glow attached to it, a clear aqua that formed and shifted like the aura from a unicorn’s horn. The singing was stronger now, still indecipherable but paradoxically clear and wonderful. Mist sighed almost in happiness at the sound; the voice was wonderful and calming, and he sat down gazing almost entranced into the glowing water at the edge of the pier.

Mist had no idea how long he was sitting like that. He became lost in the song, the profoundly sensual tones and cadences gently waving up at him. They seduced him and soon he felt as though the voice was singing purely for him, that he was receiving his own private concert at the pier. The song seemed to weave a net around him and he remained perfectly still, listening as though whoever was singing was right in front of him, becoming ensnared by the ethereal voice.

Despite not being able to understand what the song was about, Mist found himself filled with strange feelings inspired by the sound and the swirling magical aura. Visions of swimming among the fishes came into his mind, of being down there with the purple shape to see clearly what it saw. Mist saw the sensual beauty and fearsome power of the oceans all at once, the power to cause shipwrecks and the gentle swaddling of the simple beachgoer swimming in the shallows, of ferocious currents and the playful schools of brightly-colored fish. The pier became the stern of a boat gently rocking in the waves, calmly and lightly skirting the ocean’s surface before diving into the water like a submarine and exploring the hidden nooks and crannies of the reefs.

Something about the song resonated deep within him, sweetly calling out to him. The visions he saw of harmony between air and sky would be his, no longer subjected to the tempests. The voice, the seductive and calming voice, would be his companion and guide, and would make sure the seas would bow to him as they passed, the waters parting for him as the fish had parted for it. All the magic and wonder he saw only in vision would be made completely clear to him and just as physically fantastical.

…he wanted to call out to the purple shape, to tell it what he saw. He wanted to tell it everything, and how he wanted to see it for himself. He wanted to reach out, and hoped it would reach back.

Something touched him and the music suddenly stopped. Mist blinked his eyes for a little bit as though clearing the haze and turned around to see the guard, dressed in gold armor, was standing behind him with a single hoof on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” the guard asked, in the usual gruff tone they had. But beneath the rough exterior, Mist could hear a note of genuine concern.

Mist realized he had been listening to a voice the guard possibly couldn’t hear and decided to go with a route that wouldn’t sound as crazy. “I was just thinking. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately and thought a nice walk would clear my head.”

“You have been sitting there for twenty minutes. Not much walking to me. But sir, you quite nearly jumped off.”

Mist looked down at his position. One hoof was extended over the edge of the railing, the other was on the railing in mid-push as though to heave him over, while another was right at the edge of the pier as though attempting to kick off. With his instincts back in place, Mist’s entire body froze for a moment before jumping backwards to the safety of the pier.

“I swear I wasn’t thinking of it!” Mist said. “I-I-I’m fine! I wouldn’t do that!”

“I know,” the guard said, and Mist thought he sounded as though he really did know. “Because it wasn’t your own mind. I heard the same voice you did, and it was that voice that nearly made you do it.”

Mist gasped. He looked back over the side of the pier, but the purple shape had gone. So had most of the fish.

Mist turned around back to the guard. “…but what was singing like that?”

“It’s difficult to say, though there is a theory. Sirena was named after the sirens of legend, but modern sirens and ancient sirens are two quite different entities. Modern sirens inspire feelings of hate, discomfort, and discord. But ancient sirens… they are said to be spears disguised as olive branches, declarations of war disguised by feelings of peace. Most are supposed to have varying degrees of resistance against their powers, but not all.”

Mist looked over. “But… how do you know?”

The guard looked away and sighed, and a certain sadness came into his eyes. “Suffice it to say you are not the first to fall for that voice. The last one actually got over the pier railing. We retrieved him, but he was lucky. And so we have learned to assume that is the case.”

Mist looked down and into the dark water, but it provided no answers. The guard turned back to him.

“You had best go home,” the guard said. “You may sleep easier for a while now, for that is what happens upon hearing that voice, but remember what happened here tonight, and do not wander alone again at night. Or at least, stay where we can see you.”

Mist nodded, and immediately and directly headed off for home.

The next morning, Misty Skies was sitting at the harbor with Hurricane. They had gone off to watch Gunport leave for another day of coast guard work and Mist had checked to see if any freelance work had come up. When nothing had, they ended up sitting and watching as the boat sped out to the sea.

The boat was out of sight to the two ponies, but they remained sitting at the harbor for a while. Mist had nothing better to do and Hurricane’s job hadn’t started yet. Mist noted Hurricane seemed to be concerned about something but had yet to ask what and didn’t know when was a good time to bring it up. Mist knew Hurricane put on a tough exterior but was often sensitive about those things, and it was best if she brought it up, not him.

“Did you get your pendant back?” Hurricane asked. “I haven’t seen you since that night at the bar.”

The early morning Mist woke up was the start of the third day since Mist had seen the stallion. “Yeah,” he said. “Someone helped me out.” He wondered if he should tell Hurricane about his meeting their rescuer, but he felt strange and wasn’t sure about him now that they had parted ways.

“That’s nice.” She looked over to him. “You’re not wearing it.”

“It’s on a hook at home, in my bathroom. I only wear it if I’m going out somewhere important.”

Hurricane nodded.

The more Mist thought about it, the more Hurricane sounded like she was holding something back; the little she said was done as though her mind was elsewhere. He figured it was whatever she had seemed concerned about and she was searching for the right words.

The pegasus stretched her wings and flapped. “…you want to go sunbathing?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

The beach was empty, as Mist suspected. It wasn’t holiday season and most regulars would even be scared away by the recent storms and high surf. Mist and Hurricane found a private spot on the beach, and lay out on the sand looking up at the sky. Normally Mist would have brought a towel, but he figured a quick shower at home would clear the sand out of his mane when they were done.

The sun was out and it was a beautiful cloudy day. A seagull cawed overhead, sailing by easily on the gentle currents. Mist heard gentle splashing amidst the high, pounding surf, and wondered if fish were playing and jumping in the sea. It would have been hot with the sun, but a gentle breeze blew by and kept it cool.

“He was trembling.”

Hurricane’s sudden statement nearly startled Mist. “Huh?” he asked.

“Did you see Gunport get on board the ship?” Hurricane asked. “He was trembling. His legs were shaking and his smile was forced. Poor bastard is only on that ship because it’s a fucking job.”

Mist looked incredulously over at Hurricane. “It’s his talent,” he said. “He loved manning the cannons.”

“Yeah, but… I wonder if he doesn’t like it since that night on the ship.” Hurricane gave a shiver. “Gives me the fucking willies, I tell you what.”

Mist looked up at the sky. “…did I ever tell you I watched a pony die that night?”

Hurricane shrugged indifferently. “There were fifty on that ship and only we made it out. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Not like that... I mean, do you remember the skipper?”

“Yeah. He was…” Hurricane’s mouth stopped, held open, and her eyes went big. “Oh… oh my god… you saw that?”

“Yeah. Big chunk torn out of his shoulder. I still don’t remember what did it, but… it looked like a shark bit him.”

“No shark would have tried that, I’m damn sure. Not even a barracuda would be so stupid.” Hurricane sighed. “I wonder if Gunport saw something like that.”

Mist looked over at Hurricane again. “And that’s why he would be scared to go on the boat?”

“Maybe. It’s not unusual; I’ve heard of it happening to sailors who go through a terrible night like that. I just… I figured Gunport wasn’t as affected as we were.”

“…is that why you drink so often?”

“I’ve been doing good the past few days. I need to keep sober for that job. It starts next week. But… it’s the only way I can drown out the voices completely, screaming and otherwise.”

Mist smiled tenderly at Hurricane. “Hopefully getting back to a steady job will help with that,” he said. “Get lost in the work and you don’t think about it so much anymore.”

Hurricane looked over and smiled. “Yeah,” she agreed, her voice softened. She closed her eyes as though enjoying the breeze through her mane. “You’re probably right.”

They lay there for a while longer, enjoying the sound of the surf and the warmth of the sun on the sand. The feeling made Mist somewhat sleepy and he found himself closing his eyes along with Hurricane as they let themselves relax in the quiet.

“Hey!”

Both Mist’s and Hurricane’s eyes shot open and sat upright. Trotting out of the water was a purple unicorn stallion with an aqua mane and eyes. Mist blinked and rubbed his eyes, but the stallion did not disappear. It didn’t take long for him to recognize who it was, but he was surprised enough that he didn’t even give him a “hello” in return. He did manage to stand up as the unicorn approached, while Hurricane sat up next to him.

“I… didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” Mist said in response.

“I didn’t either,” Siren Song responded. “But I’ve got a new assignment here from the research academy and I’m back for another few weeks.”

“Oh, very nice!” Mist suddenly remembered Hurricane’s presence and gestured to her. “Oh! Siren Song, this is Hurricane, one of my friends you rescued. Hurricane, this is Siren Song. He’s the unicorn that saved us from the wreck.”

Hurricane’s eyes were still wide with shock, though she managed to squeak out an unsteady “Hello…”

Siren Song took out a hoof and grabbed one of Hurricane’s own, gently bowing down and kissing it. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said in his musical tone. “I am very happy to hear you recovered well.”

Mist noticed Hurricane looked almost revolted, but did not pull away and did not say much of anything.

“So, where’d you pop up from?” Mist said. “I thought this beach was deserted at this time.”

“I swam about a mile from here.” Siren Song pointed down the beach towards the harbor. “I just got back in last night and decided to refresh myself. Certainly harder than usual, but I managed. No towel, though; I’ll take a shower back at my hotel.”

“Where are you staying?” Hurricane asked.

“At the one next to the Salt and Sea Tavern. The… uh… I think it’s called ‘Great Western’ or something like that.”

“Uh-huh…” Mist noted Hurricane did not sound impressed.

“Well, it’s good to hear you’re back,” Mist said. “I hope you meet Gunport during this time, too, but he’s at his job right now. How long are you staying this time?”

“A few weeks at least,” Siren Song responded. “I am waiting for a few others to meet us here; we’ve got one more researcher, a captain, and a Princess with two guards coming to visit."

Mist’s eyes widened in surprise at the mention of a Princess. “Quite the entourage,” he said. “What’s the big deal?”

“Well, I’ll explain more later. For now, I wanted to ask if you had any jobs coming up. You said you were a freemartin, right?”

“Yes. And actually, I haven’t had anything come in.” He said it… eagerly? Anticipating something? …hopefully? Where did that come from? “Most of the harbor jobs are on major expeditions but nothing small.”

“Well, I was wondering if you would like to join us. Of course, I’ll make the official request for your services at the harbor, but it would be nice to have a navigator, and I have obtained permission for an extra hoof on board.”

With every word from Siren Song’s proposal, Mist’s excitement and attention grew. “You mean actually participating in the research?”

“Yes. You seemed interested the last time we talked, more than other ponies I’ve spoken to, and wondered if you would like to join us.”

Visions of swimming among the fishes… of being down there to see clearly what it saw… the sensual beauty of the oceans, the gentle swaddling of the playful schools of brightly-colored fish… the stern of a boat gently rocking in the waves before diving into the water and exploring the hidden nooks and crannies of the reefs...

Mist found himself thrilled with the prospect. He broke out into a wide grin. “That… that sounds awesome! So, two days from now?”

“Well, three, technically. Two days waiting for the Princess and the other researcher, then the day after that we meet at the harbor. We’ve already arranged the boat rental. And I hope you don’t mind spending a few days at sea; it will allow for our work to be done quicker.”

“I… I would love that! This is cool; I’ve never been on a research project before. And with a Princess!”

“She’ll keep you in line,” Hurricane piped up.

Siren Song swiftly came up next to Mist and put a hoof around him… almost possessively. “I trust Mist to behave himself despite his giddiness,” he said sweetly. “I’ve heard good things about him at the harbor.”

“…I meant you.”

Mist found himself shocked by the sudden jab at the friendly unicorn. “Really, Hurricane?” he asked. “Siren Song is quite nice. He’s the one that helped me find my pendant.”

“Forgive me for my suspicions, but isn’t rather strange to you that he pops up from nowhere to help you find the pendant, then does it again to ask you about this?”

“Our ship needs a navigator,” Siren Song said before Mist could respond. “I happen to know a navigator from last time I was here. Not strange at all to me.” The unicorn’s horn glowed, and suddenly a piece of parchment popped up from nowhere. “And, if you want proof, here is the assignment Abstract and a listing plus signatures of all involved; Misty Skies will add his name when he officially takes the job as a freemartin.”

Hurricane took the paper in a hoof and read it over. When she was done, she sighed and returned it back to Siren Song, who took it and made the parchment disappear. “I suppose it checks out. But if you dare put one mark on him, I will fucking deck you upside the head so hard you’re going to see more than fishes swimming around you.”

“Not a hair of his mane shall be harmed,” Siren Song said eloquently. “I promise you I won’t let that happen.”

Hurricane nodded, approving but not really at the same time.

“So,” Siren Song began again, turning to Mist. “I shall see you” – he poked his chest with his free hoof – “on the morning of the third day. The official request form will be in sometime this afternoon, as I have already turned it in before I came here, and I shall be eagerly awaiting your response.”

“And I will be eagerly awaiting our little trip,” Mist said.

Siren Song chuckled good-naturedly as he released his hoof from around Mist’s neck. “And now, I am off, as I have other business to attend to before that day. Ciao!” And he began trotting off down the beach towards the harbor.

Mist and Hurricane were left alone for a while, neither of them taking their eyes of the stallion or the direction he was going in until he was out of sight. Mist noticed he walked gracefully and smoothly, his hind end and tail waving almost like a fish swimming through the water, and found himself further intrigued.

Hurricane snorted.

“He’s charming,” she said. “I don’t like him.”

Mist rolled his eyes and looked at Hurricane. “Why don’t you like him? He is nice and friendly, and you gave him quite the introduction.”

“He gives the impression he wants something else. He feels like a con-artist; asks you nicely and politely for one thing then reveals the hidden charge later.”

“Well, I think he’s a rather fine stallion,” Mist huffed. He checked himself before continuing in a much gentler tone. “I suppose we’ll get an answer if I get a request form this afternoon and see what it says on it. If his story checks out, I will trust him.”

Hurricane crinkled her nose. “All the same,” she said with genuine concern, “please be careful.”

The form was there in triplicate when Mist got home – one for the research society, one for the harbormaster as job confirmation, and one for Mist to keep for himself. Mist signed every form where it said he needed to, then walked down immediately to the harbor to turn it in.

The pay he was notified he would get for the job was also rather handsome.

For a moment, Misty Skies and the Captain both stared in shock at the dead body on the deck of the steamer. How quickly the life had gone out of his eyes! And how suddenly, with but one jagged bite from the shoulder that caused blood to spray on the deck in violent red streaks from amongst the dangling flesh! Mist wondered what killed the skipper first: blood loss, or shock.

“That thing killed the skipper!” the Captain shouted, knocking Mist from his reverie. “We’re under attack!”

“What the hell is that thing!?” Mist shouted. But before he could get a good look at it, the boat rocked and a wave splashed over, swiftly pushing the orange figure back into the churning sea.

“We can’t let them get away!” the Captain said. “Go down and tell the cannon and harpoon crews to fire at them!”

“Are you kidding me!?” Mist nearly shrieked. “No way! I don’t know what that thing is, but that’s not natural! That looked like a pony front! We can’t attack them!”

“If they’re going to keep killing my men, I can’t let them get away for nothing!” the Captain said somberly. “I agree they are not natural, but I am going to fight to get as many of them as I can get home.”

Mist stood in the cabin disgusted. “Well, I am merely a navigator. It is not my duty to tell you what to do, but neither is it my duty to engage in combat. If you excuse me, I need to make sure my friends are okay.”

Mist heaved the open and went out into the stinging rain. It was cold and blustery, and as soon as he had gotten out of the door it was shut behind him with a bang from the wind and rain. Mist shivered and made himself as steady as he could as he began walking down to the deck.

“Hurricane!” he called out amongst the scattered ponies. “Hurricane!”

A pony started running towards him, but the lime green pony figure leapt out of the water and rent a massive bite in its chest. There was a scream as the jagged teeth pierced the flesh and Mist was suddenly splattered with hot blood before the cry was cut off like a switch. The rain drenched him and Mist screamed, bucking the thing away from his fallen comrade and heading towards the main deck.

The top deck was in chaos. Ponies were torn between trying to keep the ship under control, avoiding the fierce waves that slapped into the side of the deck, and dodging the orange and lime green monsters that ascended out of the depths. Mist knew he had to find Hurricane fast.

“Hurricane!” he shouted again.

“Mist!” came the familiar responding cry. “Misty!”

Mist realized the cry came from in front of him. He ran as fast as he could across the deck as the cry came again, dodging pony bodies and bracing himself for waves. The ship was being tossed about like a toy boat in a pool, and it seemed not even the pegasus ponies were able to stop it. It was like all the clouds in Cloudsdale broke at once.

Mist saw Hurricane’s shock of yellow mane, and started running towards it. But suddenly the ship was bucked by a wave that threw the whole thing almost over on its side. Mist lost his grip and rolled down the deck as a torrent of water cascaded into his side and mouth, filling his mouth with salt water. He almost thought he was already churning in the dark waves before his back hit one of the metal poles at the side of the boat.

Mist came to his senses and scrambled. Quick as a whip, he shot his front hooves outwards and managed to grab two of the metal poles of the ship’s railing. His feet struggled to get a good grip on the side of the boat as it straightened out, but he flailed on the side. Mist grunted as he tried to get up on deck.

“Hurricane!” he coughed. He spit water out of his mouth. “Hurricane!”

There came a flash of lightning and a deep rumbling of thunder that reverberated all around Mist, like the sea itself was angered and growling. In the flash Mist could see a third shape now below him in the water, circling around like a vulture waiting for prey. Mist’s efforts redoubled but he couldn’t get up.

“Mist!” Hurricane approached him and finally reached out a hoof. “Mist! Grab my hoof!”

Mist let go of the pole for just a moment and grabbed onto the hoof. Pushing on the other pole while Hurricane pulled back with every ounce of strength, Mist finally launched over the side and landed on the deck.

“Mist!” Hurricane exclaimed. “Are you alright!? What the hell is happening!?”

“Something’s attacking the boat!” Mist shouted over the storm. “We have to find Gunport and get out of here!”

“How!?” Hurricane shouted, on the edge of panic. “The wind’s too strong to fly and there’s those creatures swimming around! We’re almost a hundred miles from shore!”

“I’m the navigator!” Mist said. “We’re strong enough, we’ll make it through alright! Trust me! We just need to get Gunport and go before the figures realize we flew the coop!”

A renewed determination came into Hurricane’s eyes. “Come on, then! I think he’s still below deck!”

Mist and Hurricane bolted as fast as they could across the deck and open the door to the lower decks. One of the pony-shark figures was feeding on a pony’s chest nearby and noticed them, but Hurricane threw the door open and they slipped inside. Hurricane slammed the door as the figure leapt at them, and they heard a loud thud as the thing collided with the door, but didn’t stop as they made their way down towards the cannon crew.