• Rowland Westlake wanted to be a sailor. He grew up on a farm deep in England and always dreamed of the day he might set sail on the seven seas. His father, an English blacksmith, met his mother in Germany and they decided to settle down in the Riverton Farmstead. Rowland was the youngest of his siblings, two boys and one girl, whom all wanted to live the city life. His time to go came when he was 15, a young man by now living with just his parents, and he set out for training to become a great seaman.
    He was a looker for sure, a tall man with sharp, slight features, and that made it hard going. But with a determined heart he prevailed, and left the taunts and sneers behind on a great ship; the Palinouros. Even though he was only a newbie, he was already headed from being a Landsman to an Ordinary Seaman in a few months. Not a huge improvement, but it earned him more respect and motivated him all the more.
    So now here he was, on a deadly calm night, finishing up with swabbing the deck. His hazel eyes glanced up at the glittering night sky and caught Luna's tilted, wide grin. She stretched her reflection across the calm sea, and he knew there would be hell to pay after this peaceful moment of serenity. He walked silently to the main deck to complete his final task of the night when a subtle, continuous sound breached his ears through the cool summer night's air. His left foot landed on the deck and he stopped as he strained his ears to listen. It sounded like... sounded like...
    He brushed his moppy, dark blond hair out of his face as he listened more intensely. It sounded like someone was singing. It sounded like a beautiful women was calling out to him in song. He frowned, for he knew no female was allowed on board the Palinouros; it was a man's ship. He walked to the rail and leaned on it with both hands, peering out at the ocean. The soft, lilting voice wavered and rippled like no voice he had heard before. It rose in the still atmosphere, whispering out notes that he never heard before.
    Rowland's arms and legs buckled, forcing him to sit next to the rail with a bump. The beauty weakened his body and mind. He could hardly move or think, aside from just listening to the wondrous singing. Colors washed before his eyes, spilling over the deck like sea water on a stormy night. He stuck out his hand to touch the colors, and watched blue, green, and orange roll between his fingers. The euphoric, unknown chords rose louder and a movement caught his eye. Rowland's head slowly turned out to the sea and he came to face a rock wall some hundred feet away.
    The being's singing was coming from atop the looming, jagged cliff. A desire, stronger than his love for sailing, forced it's way into his chest and nested there. He wanted that voice, and that voice only, to sing to him forever. Two tears streaked the curves of both cheeks and he suddenly was aware that he was to hot for his own skin. The summer air was cooking him alive. He tore of his shirt and peered into the sea again, which seemed to convince him with promises of a deep blue satisfaction.
    A stormy petrel perched on the bow of the great ship stared at the love-struck figure. It curiously cocked it's head when Rowland Westlake wiggled his fingers in the air just above the deck boards. It couldn't understand what he was doing, but just sat and watched anyways. As Rowland pulled off his shirt, the petrel tucked it's head into it's feathered breast, loosing interest. A minute passed and the bird was dozing off when a crash woke it, making it squawk in surprise and take flight. Looking back at the now empty deck, it flew through the once again quiet night.
    The icy ocean cooled Rowland's boiling skin, but the entrancing singing still beckoned him. He began to swim, cupped hand after cupped hand, and slowly got closer to the face of the rocky cliff. He was drowning , but in his minds eye he was almost there. He reached the sharp rocks when the singing twisted into a wretched howling. It ripped the inside of his ears, making blood ooze freely, tainting the sea water crimson. He screamed in agony, releasing his last breath into the heartless, pitch black ocean where he would remain, trapped for eternity.