The fog hung low on the water, long tendrils dipping into its depth. A lone gull searched futilely for some spot where he could rest his wings. As lost as the lone fishing boat that glided somewhere behind it.
A wealthy merchant employed the men. He was a crooked man himself but enforced honesty among the mismatched shipmen.
One, having a bit too much to drink, stumbled to the rail and heaved. Rich voices rang out in song and laughter. Except for the ill fisherman and reserved navigator everyone was engrossed in a bright song and celebration over their best catch in years.
The navigator was cold despite the warm air and his thick clothing. He was listening for a song. One no human knew. His father grew up on fishing ships and always told him of the sailor’s worst enemy, the siren. Many believed them all slain yet the navigator could never put the thought of them to rest.
If sirens weren’t bad enough there were rumours of pirate ships in the area. And with this fog one couldn’t see another ship until they were on top of each other.
A beefy arm slung around the navigator’s  thin shoulders and the odour of too much ale assaulted him. “Come and have a drink with the crew. Can’t see a thing in these conditions anyway.” The first mate swayed drunkenly.
The navigator was about to protest but the first mate shoved him into the circle of men.
One of the men began an epic song telling the conquests of Ares, god of war. His drunken slurs seemed almost enchanting. It wasn’t until the end of the song that the navigator distinguished what the background noise was. Looking out at the water he saw splashes of vibrant colour.
It was them.
He felt thankful that his family had passed on in the last plague. He was surely to never be seen again.
The navigator began his prayer to the gods to let him find his family in death. The rest of the sailors continued to drink themselves past sense.
The ill sailor was the first to hear it. “Listen, do you-“
There was a soft splash. None of the others heard.
He never knew what they were supposed to look like yet he recognised them regardless. It was their ethereal voices that drew him in. They were far more beautiful than he imagined. All of them were gleaming shades of green and blue; much like the water in different seasons. The soothing voices kept the sailors silent as their bodies were torn apart and hearts still laboured.
One of pale, blue skin like summer sky caught the navigator’s attention. Although he hid among the nets she saw him. Her serpentine tail propelled her across the slick deck. Long talons ran red with the life of one of the navigator’s lost comrades. A long tongue snaked out around her claws and cleaned them.
A scream rang out but nobody came to the sailor’s aid.
The navigator finished his prayer and awaited his death.
A single claw ran down his cheek.

-

A crooked merchant stood on the dock waiting for his lost fishing ship. Three days late. He was losing money. Time washed away with the waves and still it didn’t come.
As the sun dipped below the water a ship came in, battered and reeking of death. Prayer returned to a lone man’s lips.
The crooked merchant walked away.