Page 15

There is wax in the ears of both you and your crew. The only sound you can hear is the thumping of your own nervous heartbeat.

The sail and the crew’s rowing pull you onward.

Five sirens, taking the form of vultures with human heads, land on the ship. In a burst of feathers, they transform into beautiful maidens and begin singing.

The song has no effect on you. The sirens exchanged confused glances. You smile at their impotence and allow yourself to feel hope.

The sirens reach a conclusion and collectively raise their arms.

A wave of scents overwhelms your nostrils. You are reminded of the warm comfort of a mother’s milk, the earthy essence of honest work, the sweet scent of a golden apple, the floral fragrance of a verdant spring, and the alluring aroma of a partner inviting you to her bed.

Due to the siren’s scent, you are incapable of making choices.

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