Fear the Waves [A Twisted Wonderland Fanfic]

Chapter 1 | The Siren's Call

Sirens. Something that the whole world feared. No matter who you were, royal or commoner, everyone knew to fear the legendary creatures that lurked beneath the surface of the water, threatening all of human-kind with their magical voices that could ensnare even the most alert sailor and drag him into the depths of the ocean. 

It was for this reason precisely that Y/N was forbidden from travelling down to the small beach beneath her cliffside house when the waves rose higher than the marking rock, and when the clouds foretold a storm. 

Of course, there was more to be frightened of than simply the sirens that plagued the shores. Pirates were another thing to be wary of, and recent reports had made it so Y/N's father had essentially placed her under house arrest to keep her from the dangers of the sea. 

But there was only so much that a father could do to protect his daughter when his job called him out onto the open waves of the sea for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. The hours that Y/N spent alone, cooped up in her little house by the sea, unable to do anything other than read through the books in the tiny library that her family had accumulated over the years. There were only so many times that she could read about daring sword-fights and magic spells before she tired of the same words that now seemed to float on the page. She could almost recite the entire book word for word. 

Also, it wasn't just boredom that made Y/N want to escape the confines of her house. Not too far from their cliffside house was a small village known across the sea and lands for having a rare collection of ocean delicacies and trinkets, all of which were superior to those found in the other kingdoms. And the shells that Y/N discovered on her little beach, most washed up by the waves, were known far and wide for the best that anyone had ever seen. No one knew her secret for attaining such valuable and beautiful shells, but they were greatly enjoyed by both locals and tourists, so no one was about to ask for her trade secret.

In truth, Y/N hardly did anything to the shells to make them so beautiful. She simply knew the best times to collect the shells. And of course, those were the days of wind and rain, the days when her father ordered her to remain in their small house. But on the days when he was gone, and she was left alone, he could do nothing to stop her from gathering her basket and cloak, and heading down the think and rickety wooden staircase down to the beach. 

* * * 

Y/N woke to the sound of winds battering branches against her bedroom window and gave a sleepy smile to the world around her. The sun was once again hidden from view, blocked out by angry grey storm clouds that threatened to break at any moment, and the smell of rain hung on the air, alerting everyone to wrap up their last few sales in the village.

Y/N, on the other hand, sprung from her bed and was ready in a matter of minutes. She threw on her cloak and seized her basket from where it sat next to the door, always ready for another harvest of shells. 

As she stepped out into the grey world, Y/N shut her eyes and focused on the scent of rain mixing with the smell of the ocean, and the sound of the waves crashing upon the shore. Few in her village were able to experience something as beautiful as this, for few dared to live so close to the shore in fear of what lurked beneath the waves. 

The old wooden staircase creaked as Y/N slowly descended the steps, clinging to the cliffside in fear of one of the boards accidentally giving way beneath her and sending her to meet her demise on the sharp rocks below. But, even after years of wear and tear from the constant battering of the weather, the boards held strong and carried Y/N to the bottom, where the wood met the sand. 

The sand crunched beneath Y/N's shoes, trying to claw its way inside her shoes, but failing, as the shoes had been specifically designed and enchanted to keep out any sort of sand and dust. The last thing anyone wanted was the irritation of sand getting caught in their shoes. 

As usual, the beach was littered with beautiful shells, each shining with remnants of water and magic, most likely having washed up from the Coral Sea where the merfolk could enchant the shells to do as they pleased, all day long. Or all night long. 

Y/N was always curious about the land below the waves. Did they have a night and day like the world above, or did they simply sleep and wake as they pleased? Did they even have to sleep? 

While her thoughts bounced around in her head, Y/N started gathering the shells into her basket, only selecting the best. The shells did not have to be perfect, by any means, as Y/N had only found one perfect shell in all the fourteen years that she had been gathering shells for the village, and only one before that. The shells simply had to attract Y/N's eye enough to lure her over. It didn't matter if they had jagged edges or a dent in an odd place, because most were turned into jewellery, and no one would look at the imperfections on the shell when they were dangling around someone's neck. Y/N's favourites were the shells that shone with the iridescent tears of the merfolk, enchanted to carry away the sorrows of the kingdom. 

"Why is it that the most sorrowful shells are the ones that we find the most beautiful," Y/N muttered to herself, picking up a near-perfect shell and running her thumb over the ridges. The iridescent colour of the exterior shone in the grey light of day, the blue underside catching the way that the waves splashed on the shore. 

She glanced up from the beach and out onto the water beyond. 'I hope Father returns soon.' 

Y/N's father was a merchant and a pearl diver. He would spend hours down at the harbour, searching for the most beautiful pearls to bring back to the surface, and on some other days, he would travel to the ends of the world, bringing the pearls with him and returning with treasures more beautiful than any that the village had seen. Though Y/N thought nothing could compare to the beauty of the shells in her basket, and the beauty of the grey sky when it met the dark ocean below. 

Suddenly, a strange sound embraced Y/N, causing her to drop the shell in her hand. She looked up from the beach again, staring out to the horizon. She felt her heart drop into her stomach as she saw a strange ship sailing closer, with a shape much different than that of the ships that so often came and left from the harbour. 

"Pirates," Y/N whispered. She had never before seen a pirate ship, nor had she ever experienced a raid by pirates. But her father had warned her of what to do if ever there was a pirate attack. Their house would always be the first to see the oncoming ships, and when her father was away, the duty would fall on Y/N to warn the village of the oncoming dangers. 

She quickly seized the shell she had dropped and scrambled to her feet, grabbing her basket and tearing back up the beach, eager to get away from the dangers. 

But as she neared the staircase she felt her fight draining away and leaking out of her, into the sand below that seemed to soak up her fear like a sponge soaks up water. She stared at the bottom stair, wondering for a moment why she had been so eager to return to her house. There was no danger... right? 

She turned once more to the sea, her eyes half-lidded as if she was about to succumb to the call of sleep. Slowly, as if of its own accord, her foot took a step, leading her closer to the edge of the water, one step at a time. Her basket fell from her arm, the shells once more scattered on the beach, but Y/N had no care for the shells. 

A beautiful melody swum in her ears, blocking out all other sounds, including those of the torrential waves she was nearing. She could not hear the warning call of the gulls above, nor the sound of the panicked villagers. The pirates were starting their raid, some sent out in small boats, while others remained on the ship, which was now bobbing just off shore, using the cannons to blast holes in whatever buildings were closest to the shore, including Y/N's. 

Her feet met water cold enough to send a shock through her body. She should have woken from the strange daze, but instead, she took another step, her skirt starting to float on the surface of the water as she continued walking, unaware of the dangers surrounding her.

Soon she had walked so far that only her head was above the water as her arms and legs refused to swim. With another step, her mouth disappeared. Another step, her nose disappeared beneath the surface, until finally, there was no sign of Y/N, save for a spilled basket of shells on the beach and a trail of footsteps leading to the waves.