The Selkie
The Selkie
A faery tale within the faery tale…
Once upon a time, there were seven beautiful seal sisters. They loved each other dearly, and lived a happy, peaceful life. They loved swimming in the crystal clear ocean together, playing in the swell with passing dolphins, heading off on adventures to explore nearby islands, and occasionally going ashore on moonlit nights so they could dance together on the golden sand.
For once a month, as the sun set in a blaze of colour in the west and the full moon rose in the east, the seven sisters would slip out of their sealskins, stash them behind a rock, and then, transformed into human women, give themselves over to the magic of the night. They adored the feel of the cool air on their skin, the sensation of the wind rippling through their long wavy hair, the crispness of the sand beneath their human feet, the beauty of the gilded light as it drenched them in moonbeams, and the sense of freedom they felt as they swayed to the music of the crashing waves and the cawing of sea birds.
* * *
One night, as the full moon sank towards the horizon and the first signs of dawn’s approach coloured the eastern sky, the sisters hurried over to the rock and slipped their sealskins back on, then dove elegantly into the water. But the youngest sister was horrified to discover that her skin was missing.
Panic gripped her. Where had it gone? What would she do, trapped here on the land? She’d heard tales from her grandmother, warnings that they must always be back in the ocean by the time the sun rose, lest they be stuck forever in the inbetween, cursed to remain human, and slowly sicken and die from lack of water.
Her heartwrenching sobs alerted her siblings, and the six sleek seals swam back to the shallows.
“What is wrong dear sister? Why haven’t you joined us yet? Hurry, the sun will soon rise.”
Her cries grew louder, and more human, and they struggled to understand her words.
“Help me, please! My sealskin has gone, and here I am stuck,” she wailed.
* * *
The seal maiden’s oldest sister swam as close as she dared, and her sleek seal head bobbed above the waves. “Dear sister, we will return to you tonight,” she called. “Try to find shelter, or shade. A cave perhaps, or even a tree. Don’t let the sun dehydrate you.”
And she did an elegant somersault and was gone.
The youngest sister tried to calm her racing heart and focus. Yes, she needed shelter. But before she could decide which direction to go in, she heard footsteps behind her, and spun around in terror, trying to cover her naked body with her long dark hair.
It was a man, one of the fishermen who resided on these lonely islands, who she had long seen but never spoken to, never revealed herself to. She trembled with fear.
“Don’t be afraid, beautiful maiden. I have your skin,” he said.
“Oh, how wonderful. Please, may I have it back? I need to return to the water before I sicken.”
The man’s expression hardened, and a sly smile twisted his lips upwards.
“I don’t think so, seal lady. I have your skin, and thus I have your life. And so you will be my wife.”
The seal sister opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Her vocal cords were frozen in shock. The man grabbed her roughly by the arm, and she twisted herself in all directions, trying to escape. But he was too strong. He dragged her up the beach and along the path to a small, tumbledown cottage.
“This is where you will live now. And you will cook for me, and clean, and be my wife.”
She cried and she begged, to no avail. She explained that she had a husband already, and a home beneath the waves, but the man just laughed. And that very day he slid an old, mouldering, sack-like white gown over her head and marched her down to the local church. There they were married by the priest, who ignored her tears and her pleas, happy just to be paid for the service, no questions asked.
* * *
For the next seven years, the seal sister’s life was spent in the cottage, cooking and cleaning and submitting to her so-called husband’s will – and, whenever he was out fishing, searching desperately for her sealskin.
During the first year, she would slip outside at midnight every full moon, and rush on silent feet down to the beach to dance with her sisters. They would hug her and braid her hair with seaweed, and tell her what was happening beneath the waves, then wipe her tears and console her as the first rays of dawn’s light meant they had to leave her.
On the sixth full moon, when she was starting to wonder if she could bear to see them any more, her sisters told her they’d found a sea witch who would concoct a potion to help her escape the human world and change back to her seal self. She spent the following days wandering the seashore humming happily, dreaming of her return to her beloved watery realm, and being reunited with her seal husband.
But on their next visit her sisters arrived dejected, with the dreadful news that the witch’s spell had failed. They all put on a brave face, and promised that they would still find a way to bring her home, but each month their hopes sank lower as no solution presented itself.
The partings with her seal sisters became sadder each time, and on the thirteenth full moon since her capture, when her jailer-husband followed her down to the beach and threatened to burn the sealskins of all of her sisters, she reluctantly whispered to them that they must not return to her.
It broke her heart to send them away, but she couldn’t risk their freedom. She would have to resign herself to this miserable human life, and find a way to continue without the lunar meetings that had sustained her until now.
Seeing her sorrow, her fisherman captor started treating her with a little more kindness, and they reached an uneasy truce. A year later she gave birth to their first son, a year later they had another, and a year after that, a daughter was born. Her children were the only thing that kept her going and made her stolen life almost bearable, and she was a wonderful mother to them. She especially loved her little girl, who followed her adoringly all day, and refused to leave her mother’s side, even when her brothers went out fishing with their father.
Most days the seal sister got up before her family woke and silently slipped outside, so she could wander the shore alone, letting the sound of the waves soothe her bitterness, and hoping desperately for a glimpse of the bobbing heads of her long-lost siblings and husband beyond the breakers.
But the longer she stayed on dry land, the less connected she felt to her old life, her old self, her old home, and the less able to distinguish the features of one sister from another or comprehend what they were trying to tell her. They would stare up at her with their huge sad eyes, then slowly swim away.
* * *
“Are you sick Mama?” her daughter asked, one long summer day when the seal sister couldn’t get out of bed. The heat affected her badly, and she craved the ocean even more at this time of year. Although she had no mirror, she knew her skin was drying out, lines were ravaging her face, and she was worryingly thin. She needed the water. She needed to swim in the ocean. She needed her freedom.
She needed her sealskin.
Tenderly she smiled at her daughter. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’ve lost my favourite dress, and without it I get so tired, and feel so sick.” She could feel death hovering. She knew she would die within the week, and it broke her heart that she would leave her children alone. She was even more devastated that she would never get to say goodbye to her seal husband, or dance with her seal sisters one more time.
“Which dress?” her daughter asked.
A wild flicker of hope flared in the seal sister’s chest, then was just as quickly extinguished, leaving her feeling more defeated than ever. “My silver one. But it’s long gone. I haven’t had it for years, haven’t seen it…”
Her daughter tugged on her hand. “You mean the one in the loft above Father’s boat?”
The seal sister’s breath caught. Surely it hadn’t been here, so close, all along? She’d searched everywhere for it, day after day after day. “You’ve seen it?”
Her daughter smiled. “Yes, one day when the boys were sick and I helped Father with the fish. I can show you where it is.”
Hardly daring to breathe, let alone hope, she dragged herself out of bed and followed her daughter on shaking legs. When the small child scurried up the ladder to the loft, she could only stare in wonder, too weak to climb after her. But soon her daughter re-emerged with a large silver-grey bundle in her arms, face wreathed in smiles, and looking very proud of herself.
“This one Mama?”
Dizzy with relief and joy, the seal sister sank to the floor. Her daughter ran to her in a panic, dropping the bundle into her lap. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Her mother gazed up at her through tear-stained eyes. “Oh my darling, yes. I’ve never been better.”
* * *
Yet now that she had her sealskin – her self – in her arms, her heart was breaking in two. How could she leave her beloved daughter, and her sons? She’d felt only half alive all these years because she’d yearned for her seal husband and their family. Would she spend the rest of her life devastated by the loss of these precious children? How could she make such a terrible choice?
“Put it on Mama, show me. It’s so beautiful.” Her daughter was stroking the sleek “fabric” of the garment, a sense of peace and contentment on her face. And the seal sister realised with a flash that her children were seal people too, at least half. Did her daughter know, on some subconscious level, what this “dress” represented?
And did she have the strength to put it on and leave this house, this world, these children?
“Don’t be sad.” Her daughter was crouched by her side, eyes burning with a strange, wild intensity. “You have to get better Mama, otherwise you’ll die, and then no one will have you.”
Shocked, the seal sister stared at the girl, and saw for the first time the sea swimming in her deep blue eyes. Saw the sleek seal nature of her smooth dark hair. She stood up, sealskin under her arm, and reached for her mother’s hand. “Come, we’ll go together.”
The stress of her choice and the depths of her illness were making the seal sister’s head spin, but she took her daughter’s small hand in hers and followed her down to the beach. She was staggering by the time they reached the shoreline, but her child never loosened the grip on her fingers, propelling her forward when she would have stumbled and fallen on the golden sand.
When the comforting chill of the grey ocean swirled around her toes, she lifted her face to the horizon, and saw a sleek silver head out past the shallows, watching her intently. Falling to her knees in the cold water, she cried out, a cry of deep pain and anguish. Her beautiful daughter had found her freedom for her – but she would be the one to pay the heaviest price. And how angry would her father be with her, that she had released her mother from his awful enslavement? Could she really leave her alone to suffer his cruel wrath?
“Don’t cry Mama,” her daughter said. She was untying the strap around the bundle she still cradled in her arms, her movements slow and deliberate.
“But my darling child, how can I leave you?” the seal sister sobbed.
The girl smiled. “But you’re not leaving me, silly, I’m coming with you.”
And she reached within the sealskin and drew out a small pair of gloves made from the same material.
“What –?” her mother asked, breath held, hardly able to believe her eyes.
“A gift from my aunty,” the daughter said, and grinned.
After pressing the large skin into her mother’s arms, she pulled the gloves on, and the seal sister watched in amazement and awe as the sleek silver-grey skin of the gloves moulded around her hands then slowly spread up her arms and over her shoulders.
Her daughter was transforming from human to seal right before her eyes, and she laughed with delight, sending a prayer of gratitude to whichever of her sisters had made this possible.
Eagerly stepping into her own skin, she took her daughter’s sleek grey hand and dove into the ocean, overjoyed when her seal husband swam over to them, embraced them both, then led them down under the waves, to the watery realm where they belonged.
Every year on her sons’ birthdays, the seal sister rose to the ocean surface to watch them as they played on the beach, and was relieved beyond measure to see that they at least were thriving with their father.
When they turned thirteen, they would be offered the option to join her, and she would accept whatever choice they made. For knowing where you truly belong, and who with, is the greatest secret of all. And the freedom to be your true self is just as important, just as essential to life, as loving and being loved.
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