Daughters of Water

Daughters of Water

        There are many legends as to what haunts the fog-covered seas surrounding Orkney. Strange tales of mythical beings lurking just out beyond the shore. Selkies, the townsfolk called them, these creatures that were half mortal and half seal. Some say they are the souls of the people who drowned at sea; others believe they are the people of an ancient race that once inhabited Scotland who had been cursed, and banished to the sea, doomed to live the rest of their lives living between two worlds, being neither fully human nor fully seal.
    With heads bobbing above the waves, they are often seen by the shore, watching inquistitively with uncannily human eyes. It is said that if a sealskin is lost or stolen, the creature is doomed to remain in human form until the skin is retrieved. Within these magical skins lie the power to return to seal form, and therefore the sea. Desperate young men, who had fallen in love with the selkie's unearthly beauty, often sought the skins of the selkie women, therefore making it impossible for them to return to the sea, but remain on land as their wives. The selkie, once caught, would make an excellent wife.
Frequently the selkies would wander from their mortal homes to the sea cliffs to sing their melancholy songs. When their fishermen husbands are lost upon the sea, they will sing from the cliffs to guide them home. But soon the call of the sea would begin to become too  much for them to deny. After some time the selkie would bear children, and after they had come of age, she would make them retrieve the skin their father had hidden from her and with it, return to the sea, taking her children with her, and leaving her husband weeping bitterly at the loss of his beautiful bride. The selkie would not forget about her husband though, or the children she might choose to leave behind. She could be seen swimming close to the shore watching over her husband and children. However, a man was a fool to think that he could keep a selkie wife. The selkie folk were cunning and full of trickery, and it was wise to leave them be, for they were not a force to be reckoned with.
My sisters and I grew up listening to these tales. There were three of us: Orlá, Maeve and me. All with long black hair rippling down our backs like waves upon the sea, with eyes the colour of pure water, which reflected the wildness of the ocean , and complexions as pale as the face of the moon on a clear Midsummer's night. We had our mother's beauty and her solemn spirit. We shared with her the love of the sea, the feel of the cold water surrounding us as we waded in deep during the high tide. The rhythm of our beloved ocean pounded within our hearts like a perpetual flame. When we were by the water, we were completed.
It was my mother too who told  stories of the selkies. Those sleek-bodied, round-headed creatures of the sea. We would sit toghether on the rocks out by the shore, with the wind sifting through our hair and the water whispering at our feet. And there we would see them as the sun sank below the horizon. From time to time they would raise their heads from the water, their dark skins slickly gleaming in the last light of the day. They would fix their watery eyes  on us where we sat perched among the rocks and then silently disappear beneath the foaming waves.
People said my mother was one of the selkie folk, for she had appeared out of nowhere one day and had instantly captured the hearts of all the young lads in the town, who followd her like love-stricken boys. But is was my father she chose to marry. Folk whispered about the strangeness of it all. They wondered at how someone as beautiful as Eilidh could settle with a plain man like my father. My mother didn't mind their talk. She would smile and say, "Love sees beyond beauty. Love seeks the heart." But people still talked.
Had she not the same watery eyes of the selkies, they would protest, the same alluring beauty of all seal-women?
Sometimes I wondered if it was all true. Sure enough, I would catch her gazing out  towards that long road down to the sea with a certain longing in her eyes that tugged at my heart; catch her singing her melancholy melodies of the sea, beckoning the waves upon the shore, calling the selkies to her.
My father loved to listen to my mother sing, but a certain sadness crept into his eyes when she did so. Her voice haunted him. A warning that soon she would have to leave him and return to her real home. She was no mortal, but a dweller of the sea. He knew that. Her time to leave us came quickly. It was a warm spring night. Outside we could hear the beating of the waves upon the shore. I heard the faint echo of her  footsteps pass by my door and the soft creak as she opened and shut the door behind her. I wearily climbed out of bed and followed her. The mists were thick, and had traveled farther inland than expected. Quietly I stumbled on the pebbled road, guided by the sound of my mother's careful, but quick footsetps. I tried my best to stay quiet so as not to frighten her, or bring attention to my presence.
I could hear her soft voice whispering through the folds of fog. She was summoning the selkies to her; singing to her lost family, telling them to come and greet her, for she was returning to them. I listened carefully, knowing this would be the last time I would hear my mother's voice singing her lullibies of the sea. I could feel tears at my eyes. I would miss her, but this was not her home, and there would always be the magnetic pull of the sea keeping her from living a normal life upon the land.
Suddenly, her voice began to fade and I could no longer hear her footsteps ahead of me. When I made it to the shore, my mother was no where in sight. Her clothes were piled neatly by water, where the water lapped up against the sand. I gazed out towards the rocks, where small waves were gentley splashing against them, but even with the pale light of the moon shedding its angelic glow upon the earth, I could see no one. The fog had cleared. My gaze shifted towards the sea, but there was nothing but the moon's reflection rippling upon the surface. Then something caught my eye, just out beyond the embankment. Selkies, five or six of them, circling in the water, swimming towards the horizon. But one, noticing me staring out after them, stayed behind. It fixed its gaze on me with its watery eyes, then disappered beneath the water. The next time I would see my mother would be years later.
I was in my sixteenth year and once again I could feel the pull of the sea tugging at my heart. My sisters felt it too. Our longing for the shadowy waters of the ocean pulsed within us. We could hear our mother's voice calling us as we sat on the cliffs overlooking the the vast sea. But we would ignore it and turn back home, knowing we could not leave our father as she did.
There was a storm that night when we returned home. I lay awake in my bed listening to the sound of the wind howling past my window. Outside the rain fell in torrents and plummeted from the sky. There was an eerie voice on the wind, crying out to me. I climbed out of my bed and grabbed a shawl, wrapping it around my shoulders as I opened the door and peered outside. I closed my eyes and let the cold wind blow against my face. I could almost taste the salty tears of the sea as the waves rolled up onto the shore. I glanced back inside the dark house. No one would miss me if I stepped out for just a moment, so out I slipped into the stormy night unnoticed.
There was a light sheen of fog covering the narrow path to the shoreline. Once again I traveled the pebbled road down to the sea, as I had done so many times before. But this time it felt different. The sea was whispering. I could hear its ghostly voice through every wave that tumbled onto the sand; in each roar of thunder; in each clash of lightening that brightened the night sky.
Behind me I heard the sound of quiet footsteps. I turned to see the somber faces of my sisters. They too had heard the call of the sea. We could no longer ignore it. Sooner or later it would catch up with us. The water would always call after us until we would give up and forsake our lives upon the mainland. We said nothing, for the silence betrayed all our thoughts. We had thought that we could never leave our father as our mother did, but our hearts were slowly dying living on land among the mortal folk. Surely our father knew that. Like our mother, our time had come.
Out just beyond the shore, shadowy figures emerged from the water. The waves lapped up against our feet. The tide was drawing in higher. I looked back desperately at our house settled above the raging sea. In the morning our father would awake to find himself alone. But we had to leave. No longer could we supress who we were. He would know where to find us. Although he would think that he had lost us to the sea, we would always be there, watching over him. My sisters took my hands. I turned to face out towards the water. The wind seemed to grow stronger. I could see them approaching, my mother amongst them. I gave one final glance towards our home. There on the cliff stood an obscure figure looking down at us. It was our father.
Farewell, I whispered to him, closing my eyes so the tears that were brimming would not betray my sadness. But when I opened them at looked up at him again, I thought that through the darkness, I could almost see him smiling.
Farewell, my daughters. I heard his deep voice inside me. He was not angry at us for leaving. He understood. I could feel warm tears falling down my cheeks as I turned away.
We were the daughters of a selkie, afterall, and therefore, daughters of water. I did not know if we would ever return to our lives upon the land. Perhaps we would come back someday. I grabbed the hands of my sisters tighter and into the watery embrace of the sea we plunged.