Vivienne clenched her hands into fists, trying to steady herself. She had read these words before. In the journal, they had been disjointed, scattered clues in the midst of research. Here, in the sailors' voices, they came alive.
As the final verse swelled, the sailors' voices softened, their tone shifting from revelry to warning.
"The final isle, where legends lie, beneath the stormy skies,
With every sign and hidden mark, we’ll break the ancient ties.
But woe betide the faint of heart, who falter on the way,
These hidden shores will claim their toll on those who go astray."
The sailors finished with a final energetic bridge and chorus, their voices echoing across the festival grounds.
"So, raise your voice, ye sailors true, and let the shanty ring,
For though the curse may bind us still, we’ll see what fate will bring.
Through storm and strife, we’ll risk our lives to set the kingdom right,
And when the final bell does toll, we’ll sail into the night."
"Yo-ho, yo-ho, we sail against the tide,
To break the curse, we roam the earth, where hidden dangers hide.
With riddles old and secrets veiled, we'll brave the endless sea,
Yo-ho, yo-ho, we’ll lift the curse and set our people free."
The song reached its fevered crescendo before closing with a final, rousing chorus. The voices of the men faded into the night, but their words lingered, a ghost of a melody settling in Vivienne’s chest. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Though her hands clapped unconsciously, her mind was racing.Was this song a guide? Another piece of the puzzle?
She pushed herself to her feet and cut through the crowd, moving toward the group of sailors. Bare Fang Bill spotted her approach, his craggy face splitting into a grin.
"Lass! I thought it was ye."
"Hello again," Vivienne managed, though her fingers twisted in the fabric of her skirt.
Bare Fang Bill’s brow furrowed. "Ye alright, Lass?"
She swallowed hard, steadying her voice. "The song you sang, where did you learn it?"
His eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Ah, the old shanty? Been around longer than me bones, that one. My father’s crew sang it, and I learned it when I was just a sail hand meself. Why d'ye ask?"
Vivienne hesitated. How much should she reveal? Would he dismiss her outright if she told him what she knew?
"I..." She exhaled sharply, searching for the right words. "I’ve heard of some of the places in the song. The artifacts, the locations… are they real?"
The old sailor ran a calloused hand down the front of his tattered coat, brushing off sand, his mismatched buttons gleaming in the firelight.
"Sailors trade in legends, lass," he said, shifting his weight off his wooden leg. "Some say they've seen the Isles, others claim it's just an old yarn. Who's to say what’s real and what’s just the sea whisperin’ in our ears?"
A pang of disappointment settled in her stomach, but she forced a nod. "Thank you."
Bare Fang Bill tipped his hat, his curious gaze lingering on her before turning back to his crew.
The next storyteller stepped forward, but Vivienne barely heard them. Her legs carried her back toward the festival grounds, her mind an unrelenting storm.
I have to find Lewis. We need to compare the shanty with the journal entries, now.
