Elwin was waiting by the door when Patrick walked up, his brown curls gently bouncing in the freezing wind. He sat perched on a small rock beside the water-damaged porch, playing with some blades of dead grass.

“Why are you still outside?”

“I don’t like being in there by myself, you know that!” Elwin bounced to his feet and brushed some dust off his pants. “It’s dark and it’s cold and I swear the old owner and his cat are haunting the place!”

Patrick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right, right. C’mon, before you catch a cold out here.”

The door creaked open, revealing the minimal amount of furniture in the one-room building. Just two cots shoved in the corner, a couple chairs, a simple stove, and a table sitting in the center. A small lantern sat atop it, barely any wax left in it. One could hardly call it a house, much less a home, but they made do.

Old Man Hanson’s words rang through his ears. He quickly shoved them aside, that old coot was just trying to piss him off.

“Shouldn’t Randy be back by now?” Elwin asked.

“You know how he is.” Patrick waved his hand dismissively and sat down in one of the chairs. “He’s the only guy I know who’d willingly pull an all-nighter out at sea. Plus he said the new fishing spot his buddies found has proven to be very bountiful, so he might be extra late.”

“But he said that he’d…” Elwin trailed off and sat on the edge of his cot. “What if he got lost? Or worse?!”

“Then he’ll find his way back.” Patrick looked back at him, his gaze softening. “Do you really think he’d let himself die on us so easily?”

Elwin shook his head, still lost in worrying thoughts. “… And if he does?”

“Then he’d probably will himself back from the grave and fight whatever killed him.”

“He can do that?!”

“No.”

“Aw.”

Patrick chuckled to himself and turned away. His smile dropped.

Elwin was right, Randy should be home by now. He promised them that he wouldn’t stay out so late anymore, and he never backed out of a promise.

But he was the eldest out of the three of them, and had gotten out of some rough spots before. He saved Patrick from that weird looking shark, he dragged Elwin back to shore after he accidentally capsized the boat, he worked his ass off daily to provide for them. Hell, he’d practically raised them for the past ten years.

Despite how absent-minded Randy can be, he must know some survival tactics they don’t, or what to do when he gets lost, or how to fight off a predator, or how to handle anything that might’ve come up.

Patrick steeled his nerves. Randy was probably on his way back. The winds must’ve just not been in his favor today.

“Why don’t you believe Old Man Hanson's stories?” Elwin asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“What?”

“I see the way you look at me and him when we talk about it.” He leaned his back against the wall and hugged his knees. “You’ve been out there a bunch, surely you’ve at least heard something.”

“That’s the thing, I haven’t,” Patrick said. “Why believe something with no evidence?”

The sun sank below the waves, casting the house into unflinching shadows. Elwin shrank into himself further, nervously glancing at the unseeable corners.

“Like those demons you say hide in the shadows,” Patrick continued. “They’ve never attacked you, not once. Why fear them if they’re all cowards?”

“They’re only hiding because you and Randy scare them off!” Elwin said, almost shouting. “People say they only prey on the helpless, what’ll happen if neither of you are here to help me?!”

“You underestimate yourself.” Patrick sauntered over and sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I’m sure if I freak them out that much, you’d do just fine on your own.”

He took a peek out of the window. The first stars had begun to blink into focus, silently twinkling in the rising moonlight.

“What if Randy doesn’t come home?” Elwin asked, looking up at him. “What if he disappears like Mom and Dad?”

Patrick tensed up, his hands balling into fists. A thousand memories flashed behind his eyes.

His father teaching him how to cast a line, his mother singing them songs as it rained, when they comforted him during a thunderstorm, promising that they’d always be there, the night they abandoned them to chase a ghost story, Elwin patiently waiting for them by the window, their empty boat washing up on shore, the day Randy swore to keep them safe from then on.

Each one he locked back away as soon as they resurfaced. “He wouldn't! He’d never do that! Goodness, what’s gotten you so worked up?!”

“Well… O-Old Man Hanson said that those who spend too much time on the water will wash up on Circe’s island, or be eaten by the Leviathan, or–”

“Goddamnit!” Patrick shouted, brushing the matted hairs out of his face. “I’m going to kill that bastard, I swear.”

“P-Please don’t.” Elwin leaned back, shrinking further into himself. Patrick forced himself to calm down.

“He’s a bad influence, El!” He swung out his hands in frustration. “His stories are clearly freaking you out, unintentionally or not.”

“They’re cautionary tales, they're supposed to freak me out!” Elwin protested. “Why do you hate them so much?”

“Why do you love them so much?!”

“BECAUSE MAYBE I WANT TO BELIEVE THAT THERE’S A FUTURE WHERE I DON’T DIE IN THIS SH*THOLE!” He screamed, clutching the sides of his head.

Patrick leaned back, stunned. His anger melted away with his words, silence rushing to fill the gaps.

“I want to be like Mom and Dad, boldly sailing out to slay a monster terrorizing the village.” Elwin looked up, tears burning in his throat. “Or like Randy, able to punch a shark in the nose without flinching, but I’m nothing like them.”

“You don’t have to be like them.”

“I want to, Pat, why don’t you get that?!” He threw up his hands in exasperation and turned to face the wall. The shadows didn’t even scare him this time.

Patrick slowly reached his hand out, then quickly pulled it back.

“… I hate the old man because he’s what drove Mom and Dad to chase an illusion straight to their graves,” He confessed. “And I’m terrified of you doing the same.”

Elwin didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry I disregard your worries, but you have to know they’re irrational.” Patrick sat next to him.

“… I’m scared,” Elwin mumbled, his face buried in his hands. “That you two will sail off somewhere and disappear, and I’ll be all alone.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that for a long time.” Patrick said, stiffly pulling him in for an awkward hug. “If we do things right.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart.” He stood up, tugging on Elwin’s shirt collar as he would a kitten’s scruff. “You must be hungry. C’mon, I’ll fry us a fish.”

Several minutes passed.

Then an hour.

Then two.

Rain clouds came and went without any sight of the firstborn. The silence was almost as suffocating as the mist clogging the horizon.

“It’s getting awfully dark out there…” Elwin muttered, staring out of the window.

“He’ll be fine,” Patrick replied. He had to be fine. He promised them.

The shadows felt stifling, the lantern light could barely penetrate it. Icy cold fingers brushed against the back of Patrick’s neck. He turned and saw nothing, it must have just been the wind.

His thoughts were growing so loud, he was slightly surprised that Elwin couldn’t hear them. The noises almost didn’t sound like his own voice. He must be going stir-crazy.

What if Randy got shipwrecked?

Then he’d just swim back to shore, simple.

But what if he’s too far from the seaboard?

Then he’d… He’d find a way.

What if he’s drowning right now and no one’s coming to rescue him?

He can take care of himself, stop being paranoid.

What if he’s dying, cold and alone, and you’re just relaxing at home?

What if the old man was right?

“That’s it, I’m not waiting any longer!” Patrick shouted, startling Elwin. He impatiently threw on his coat, grabbed the lantern from the table, and marched up to the door. “Stay here, we’ll be back soon.”

“Wh-What?!” Elwin leapt upright. “Y-You can’t just leave me here!”

“No no no.” Patrick held out his hands. “Stay. I'm not losing track of both brothers tonight.”

“Wait! Please!” Elwin ran over and hugged his waist. “Don’t go, what if you don’t come back either? What would I do then?!”

Patrick ground his teeth, unsure of what to do. Anger and fear and annoyance and chaotic confusion lashed around in his chest, clawing at his lungs and screeching for catharsis. He could’ve sworn he heard the faintest sound of laughter coming from the corners, he must’ve really been driving himself mad with worry.

Despite all that, his hands instinctively went to playfully tousle his baby brother’s hair, as if this were nothing more than a children’s game of pretend. If only.

“… If you promise to stay within reach, and to not do anything rash, then you can join me,” He sighed, giving in to his irrationally guilty conscience.

Elwin started in slight surprise, then looked up at him, small tears glinting in the corners of his eyes. Nothing short of divine bewitchment would’ve been enough to quell Patrick’s immediate, protective rage. How ironic.

“Let’s go, something tells me we don’t have much time to waste.”

“Are you sure he’s here?” Elwin asked, nervously peeking over the side of the rickety rowboat. The ocean was wilder than either of them expected, but still oddly quiet. Like it was waiting for something to happen, it was hard to explain. “Th-this place doesn't seem like the ideal fishing spot.”

“That’s just ‘cause it’s nighttime,” Patrick replied, focused on the roiling waves. “The ocean's usually much more serene than this.”

“I know, It’s just… I’ve never been this far out from the dock before.” Elwin glanced behind them. The town was completely obscured by the fog, it was like it was never there at all. “I-Is it always this scary?”

“Well, no, but…” Patrick thought for a moment. “It feels less scary when Randy’s with you, he can lighten up any mood. He can usually get home on his own, too, so I don’t know what’s going on today.”

Elwin nodded uncertainly. The water was inklike in its darkness, but he could swear he saw something swimming underneath. He lurched back, almost tumbling overboard.

“What’s even so special about this spot?!” Elwin asked, looking over at Patrick.

“I’m not sure. Apparently people have been saying that more fish have been swimming nearby. Like they’re being drawn to it or something,” He replied, growing more and more agitated. “‘Might as well check it out,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t hurt,’ he said.”

There was something wrong, something supernatural. That feeling nagged at the back of Elwin’s head, but he ignored it. He was just being irrational.

There was no such thing as sirens. They were safe, they were safe, they were safe, they were–

A splintered sailboat caught Elwin’s eye. It bobbed against a cluster of jagged rocks, dancing to some unknown song. It looked… unnatural, to say the least. Should there be rocks so far out at sea? He wouldn’t know, he’d never gone out very far.

“Pat…? Is that normal?” Elwin turned toward his brother and pointed at the wreckage. Patrick raised an eyebrow, his glasses glinting in the moonlight as he leaned over the edge. That nagging feeling of dread worsened with each passing second.

His eyes glazed over, eerily calmed. He dropped the lantern and leaned in closer, as if he were listening to something.

“P-Pat, you’re gonna–” Elwin reached for him, then stopped.

Someone was singing.

This was bad, this was wrong. A panicked warning rang in the depths of his mind, screaming at Elwin to run. Get out of there, you aren’t safe!

But...

Her voice was stunning, like the ocean breeze under the summer sun, but grander than that, more seductive. Elwin had few words to describe it. He had never heard anything remotely as beautiful.

They needed to get away, he needed to get them out of there. Why weren’t his arms moving?

The voice sang of peaceful adventure, a chance to see the world of the other side of the ocean. A chance for the brothers to discover things beyond themselves.

To dig up treasure, to slay beasts and monsters, to escape that dreary fishing hamlet, to find their parents, to become the heroes in the stories he loved so dearly.

She promised all that and more, a divine enchantment falling upon his ears.

He wanted to get closer, he needed to get closer.

Patrick swung his leg over the side of the boat, smiling merrily. Elwin lowered the oars and stood up, his fear melted into tantalizing intrigue.

A hand clasped his shoulder, wet with seawater. He spun around, enraged that someone dare interrupt his trance.

Randy stared back at him, eyes ghastly and rotting. The firstborn’s skin sloughed off the bone as he desperately shook his head and pointed behind him, away from the song.

The once heavenly singing curdled into howls of rage. The jagged, rock-like forms shivered in disdain, and the monster’s maw sank beneath the waves. Elwin caught sight of a single, sickly green eye staring up at him from the center of the cluster. It vanished under the black before he could blink, and then it was gone. Like it was never there at all.

Elwin screamed, scrambling for Patrick. For something to hide behind. For someone to protect him.

But no one was there anymore.