Noah found the Siren's Rest exactly where Lira had implied it would be: down a narrow boardwalk that smelled of brine and ambition, wedged between a chandlery and a shop that sold nothing but replacement harp strings.
Inside, the tavern was warm and loud in the way only places built around music can be. Lanterns floated near the ceiling, bobbing gently to whatever tune was currently winning the room. Patrons clustered around low tables, some nursing drinks, others nursing grudges from earlier sets. A broad stage of pale cedar dominated the far wall, currently occupied by a wiry man sawing at a fiddle with enough enthusiasm to make the floorboards creak in sympathy.
Noah paused just inside the doorway, letting the door swing shut behind him. The System pinged helpfully.
System: Location registered — Siren's Rest Tavern. Ambient Harmonic Density: Moderate. Opportunity detected: Open mic signup sheet at bar. Caution: Current performer achieving 62% audience resonance. Exceeding this threshold recommended for measurable progress.
He scanned the room for threats that didn't involve public humiliation. None obvious. Yet.
At the bar, a broad-shouldered woman with arms like dock ropes was polishing a glass that already gleamed. She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Drink or stage?" she asked.
"Information first," Noah said. "I'm new. Looking for a starter instrument. Something forgiving."
She snorted. "Forgiving instruments go extinct around here. But there's a pawn shelf in the back. Folks trade up when their pride outgrows their skill."
Noah thanked her and threaded his way past tables. The pawn shelf was exactly what it sounded like: a long plank lined with rejects. A cracked flute. A drum with one head split like a bad smile. A small, unassuming ukulele missing two strings.
He picked up the ukulele anyway. It felt light, almost apologetic.
System: Item acquired — Second-Hand Ukulele (Condition: Suboptimal). Base resonance potential: 23%. Suggestion: Tune before use. Warning: Untuned instruments may induce localized dissonance events.
Noah carried it back to the bar and ordered whatever passed for beer. The bartender slid over a mug that fizzed faintly, as if humming to itself.
"Name's Kess," she said. "You planning to play that thing tonight?"
"Planning is a strong word."
Kess grinned. "Good. Planning gets you eaten. Improvising just gets you embarrassed."
The fiddle player finished to scattered applause and a few floating lanterns drifting lower in disapproval. A chalkboard by the stage listed the queue. Three names already, none of them Noah's.
He sipped the beer. It tasted like regret and citrus.
Half an hour later, the queue had dwindled to one nervous teenager with a pan flute. When the kid finished—competently, annoyingly—the emcee, a tall woman in a captain's coat, scanned the room.
"Anyone else before we break for the kraken feeding?"
Noah felt every eye turn toward the stranger holding a half-stringed ukulele. He raised a hand before his better judgment could intervene.
The captain grinned like someone who'd seen this before. "Name?"
"Noah."
"Welcome, Noah. Stage is yours."
He climbed the three steps slowly, buying time. The ukulele had four strings left: two high, two low. He plucked experimentally. The notes wobbled out, sour and uneven.
The audience waited, polite but predatory.
Noah cleared his throat. "This one's called… 'I Literally Just Got Here.'"
A few chuckles. Encouraging.
He strummed a simple progression he half-remembered from high school guitar class. The chords came out lopsided, but recognizable. He added words on instinct.
"Woke up on a dock with a mission in my head, System says be strongest or end up very dead. Got forty-seven days before the clock runs dry— So here's a little ditty while I try not to die."
The audience laughed properly this time. A couple of lanterns brightened.
He kept going, leaning into the self-mockery because it was safer than sincerity.
"World runs on music, that's the local rule, I can't carry a tune but I'm nobody's fool. If bad notes kill people, then lock me away— 'Cause this ukulele's seen better days."
The last chord landed flat. Somewhere in the rafters, a lantern flickered and dropped an inch.
Silence stretched.
Then Kess started clapping, slow and deliberate. Others joined. Not thunderous, but genuine. A few whistles.
The captain nodded. "Not the worst we've heard. Stick around, newbie. You might survive the week."
Noah stepped down, adrenaline buzzing. His wrist tingled.
System: Performance logged. Harmonic Dominance: 4.2% (up from 0%). Achievement unlocked: First Public Humiliation (Minor). Reward: Basic Chord Proficiency (Passive). Note: Audience resonance 38%. Acceptable for Day 1.
He returned to the bar. Kess slid him another beer. "On the house. You didn't make anything bleed. That's a win."
"Thanks." He meant it.
A small shape detached itself from the shadows under a nearby table and scampered up the barstool beside him. It was no bigger than a housecat, furred in patchy silver and black, with enormous amber eyes and fingers that looked made for picking locks.
The creature eyed his ukulele, then him. "You kept the beat mostly. Impressive for a landwalker."
Its voice was high, piping, and utterly unafraid.
Noah blinked. "You're… talking."
"Pip," it said, as if that explained everything. "Salvager. Collector. Occasional critic." It reached out and plucked the ukulele's highest string. The note rang clear, almost defiant. "This one's flat. I could fix. For a price."
"What kind of price?"
Pip's grin showed too many teeth. "Stories. You got any good ones?"
Noah considered. "Working on a few."
"Good." Pip hopped onto his shoulder like it had always belonged there. "Then we negotiate."
From across the room, Lira appeared, harp slung across her back. She raised her mug in salute. "Told you the open mic was the place to start. Though I expected more structural damage."
Noah lifted his own mug. "Night's young."
Lira laughed and moved to join them.
Outside, the sea sang to itself in low, rolling chords.
Inside, Noah tuned the ukulele with Pip's surprisingly deft help, and for the first time since arriving, the countdown in the corner of his vision felt less like a threat and more like a dare.
System: Social link initiated — Pip (Tentative Ally). Progress update: Harmonic Dominance steady at 4.2%. Reminder: 46 days, 22 hours remaining. Suggestion: Practice major scales. Avoid minor keys near open water.
Noah strummed a quiet chord. It held, steady and true.
He allowed himself a small, tired smile.
One day down.