Anya took a deep breath as she stood outside Calypso's home. The place was a mess—shabby, rundown, and covered in overgrown weeds. It looked like it hadn't been maintained in years. Anya hesitated at the sight, feeling a knot of anxiety twist in her stomach. Jack had told her about Calypso—how strange he was—but she was desperate for answers. There was no turning back now.
Gathering her courage, Anya knocked on the door. There was no immediate response, and for a moment, she considered leaving. But after a long pause, the door creaked open, revealing Calypso. His messed up appearance matched the state of his home, and he gave off a peculiar, unsettling vibe. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were wide and erratic. Despite her fear, Anya forced herself to remain calm. She needed to speak with him.
"Would you like anything?" Calypso asked in a friendly tone after a brief silence.
Anya shook her head quickly. "No, thank you."
"Nonsense. I always give my guests something," he insisted, and before she could protest, he suggested tea. Reluctantly, Anya agreed. She watched nervously as Calypso shuffled to a corner and retrieved a teacup—one that looked far from clean. It was smudged with old stains, the kind that made her stomach churn. To her horror, he didn't even bother washing it. He simply poured water into the filthy cup, added a teabag, and stirred.
Anya suppressed a gag as he handed her the tea. The smell was surprisingly pleasant, but the sight of the grimy cup made her stomach turn. She held it awkwardly in her hands, unsure what to do. Calypso sat across from her, watching intently. With his eyes on her, she felt obligated to take a sip. She brought the cup to her lips, hesitated, then took a small drink.
To her shock, the tea was actually good. But there was no way she could stomach another sip from that dirty cup. While Calypso turned his back for a moment, she quickly emptied the rest of the tea into a nearby flower pot. When he turned back around, she smiled and said, "Thank you for the tea, it was lovely."
Calypso grinned, seemingly satisfied.
Anya then sat stiffly on the old, tattered couch in Calypso's home, trying to ignore the lingering smell of mildew and the mess that surrounded her. Her nerves were still on edge after forcing down a sip of tea from a filthy cup, but she reminded herself why she was there. She needed answers, and Calypso was her only lead. He leaned back in his chair across from her, studying her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. His wild, erratic eyes seemed to pierce right through her.
"So, what is it you want to know about the mermaids?" Calypso asked with his voice suddenly sharp and focused.
Anya hesitated, unsure how to phrase her question. "I... I want to know everything. If they even exist," she said with her voice trailing off.
Calypso let out a loud, unsettling laugh. His whole body shook with amusement. "A nonbeliever!" he declared, almost mockingly. "You've come all this way, and you don't even believe in them. Typical."
Anya shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of his words. "I just want the truth."
He shook his head, still grinning. "Mermaids are real, girl. But they're not what you think. Beautiful, yes, but deceptive. Evil, even. I've seen it with my own eyes. They lure you in with their beauty, with their voices, and before you know it, you're lost."
Anya raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You've seen them? You expect me to believe that?"
Calypso leaned forward as his expression darkened. "Believe it or not, I was just a cabin boy when I first came across them. I wasn't much older than you, working as a cabin boy aboard a pirate ship. My job was simple—clean up after the crew, do what I was told, and try not to get in the way. We were out at sea for months, chasing rumours of the Siren's Hoard. The crew believed there was a treasure, a fortune hidden somewhere, and they were determined to find it."
Anya's interest piqued despite herself. "And what exactly is in this Siren's hoard?"
"Gold. Jewels. Enough to make any man a king," Calypso said with his voice low and gravelly. "But there was more to it than just treasure. The mermaids, or sirens as we called them, were said to guard it. They didn't need weapons or force to protect their hoard. All they needed was their song. We sailed into their waters, unaware of the danger we were walking into. They sang to us, voices so sweet and beautiful that even the toughest pirate was mesmerised. They appeared in the water, shimmering, radiant. We thought we were about to make our fortune."
Calypso paused as his eyes clouded with memory. "But it was a trap. One by one, the men started throwing themselves into the water, thinking they were going to find riches. But instead, they were dragged under, never to be seen again. I watched as the sea turned red with blood. I hid below deck, terrified. When I finally came out, there was no one left but me. They had taken everything—the crew, the ship, and nearly my life."
Anya narrowed her eyes. "And you expect me to believe that? Sounds like the kind of story old men tell kids to scare them."
Calypso's gaze hardened. "Believe what you want. But I survived. I saw them with my own eyes. Maybe you think it's all nonsense, but you didn't live through what I did. And if you go looking for them, you'll end up like the rest—dead."
Anya scoffed. "That's just a story."
Calypso chuckled darkly. "Is it, now? Let me guess—you're Larkspur's kid, aren't you?"
Anya blinked, taken aback. "Yes, I am. How do you know?"
"Figures," Calypso muttered under his breath. "Larkspur was another captain that ventured in search of the siren's hoard and never came back. He and his crew. No wonder you came here." He paused, staring at her with a mix of pity and amusement. "You don't believe me? Fine. Go out to sea, find them for yourself. But no one's going to join your crew. Not for something as dangerous as this. And definitely not for a woman." He spat the last word with disdain.
Anya's hands clenched into fists. "I don't need anyone's help."
"Maybe you don't," Calypso said with a shrug, "but it won't matter. The sea doesn't care if you're brave or foolish. It takes what it wants."
Anya stood up abruptly. Her patience was gone. "Thanks for nothing," she said coldly.
Before she could leave, Calypso called after her with his voice surprisingly soft. "I'm sorry about your father, Anya. Larkspur didn't deserve what happened to him."
Anya froze with her heart tightening with grief and anger. She didn't turn around. Without another word, she walked out of his house, slamming the door behind her.