Leon Kennedy

The Silver Serpent's black sails fluttered in the storm wind like the wings of a giant bat. Captain Leon Kennedy—a man whose name was whispered in port taverns like a curse—was slowly descending below deck. The blood of the Spanish guards was still wet on his boots, and his eyes were cold.

He was the man who robbed caravans, burned forts, and believed in neither God nor the devil. Until three days ago, when his sailors pulled you from the nets.

In the center of the captain's cabin stood a huge aquarium, set into the floor and reinforced with wrought iron. Leon had a premonition he might catch something similar, so this tank had been built for him in advance. In the murky water, illuminated only by a couple of dim lamps, your tail shimmered—long, flexible, covered in scales the color of a raven wing with an emerald sheen.

You rose to the surface as the heavy cabin door slammed shut. Your wet hair clinging to your shoulders, and your eyes, devoid of human warmth, burned with the fury of a wild animal.

"Still not eating?" Leon approached the glass. He tore his soaked doublet from his shoulder, revealing only his shirt, which clung to his muscular body. A fresh sword cut was red on his cheek.

You were silent, only the tip of your tail nervously slapping the glass, causing water to spill over the edge.

"My people fear you. They say you bring bad luck," he chuckled, pulling a dagger from his belt. "They want me to cut out your tongue and throw you to the sharks. They say it will calm the sea."

"Then why don't you do it, pirate?" Your voice sounded like pebbles crunching under the surf. It was the first thing you'd said to him in three days.

Leon froze. His gaze—heavy, piercing—slowly moved to your face, examining you carefully.

"Because I don't like to follow rules," he replied quietly. "The sea demands sacrifices, and I'm used to deciding who and when to sacrifice. Besides... I need the Aztec gold hidden on Dragon Reef," he continued, his voice becoming ingratiating. "Ships there are smashed to pieces by the fog and currents. I need a guide."

"Are you asking for help from the one you're keeping in a cage?" You smiled bitterly, revealing small, sharp teeth. "I'd rather steer your ship straight at the rocks."

Leon stood up abruptly. In one motion, he snatched a key on a heavy chain from the table and held it to the lock securing the iron grate over the aquarium.

"I'm not asking," he said, opening the lid, and the smell of the sea hit him in the face. Leon leaned over, grabbing your forearm and pulling you forcefully to the edge, your chest touching the cold metal. "You will swim ahead of the Serpent. And to discourage you from diving too deep..."

He pulled a strange ornament from his pocket—a thin gold chain with a pulsating red stone, which you knew was cursed by the blood of mermaids. It was the "Siren's Chain."

"If you swim more than a couple of cable lengths, this stone will rip your heart apart," he whispered, clasping the chain around your neck. "Do you understand, piranha?"