Bound to the Sea

Part 7 - The Selkie

Afternoon lapsed into evening as the sun gradually descended into the sea, leaving behind a murky grey twilight that clung to the shore in thick foggy swathes. On the boat dock below the croft house sat a solitary figure, head bent as if in prayer. Across the woman's lap was a grey, spotted seal pelt. She rubbed a hand over it absentmindedly and it warmed at her touch.

The other selkies had given her no guidance on this, the feeling that stirred within her heart at the thought of the little, broken family in the cottage. The place held a strange familiarity for her, like the fuzzy remnant of a dream. From its windows came a comforting yellow glow. It called to her, to a part of her that was at odds with the sea.

She knew she had not always been this way. She had a name, a tiny thread that could tie her to whatever life she'd had before. It was all she had to go on.

Saoirse.

The fisherman had called out that name. Her name. Had he known her in whatever life she'd had before this one? It was foolish to hope so. She had a family here, in the sea. She didn't need anyone else.

That was what her mind said, but her heart pulled her eyes in the direction of the cottage again. She sighed and gathered the edge of the seal skin between her fingers. She wrapped it around herself like a cloak and closed her eyes.

It wasn't pain, exactly, more like the feeling of stretching tired muscles. Her body melted into the shape of the skin, and where the woman had been was a spotted grey seal. The animal loped to the edge of the dock and slipped into the water like liquid quicksilver.

She delighted in the feeling of the water parting smoothly around her as she swam. The tiniest flick of a flipper and she could dive deep below the surface to where small schools of fish collected in the waving fronds of seaweed. She caught a few in her jaws before large, stealthy forms filled the area around her. Her seal kin rushed at her angrily in a swirl of bubbles and churning water. They nipped at her sides and flippers. She snapped at them in return, halfheartedly. She felt she deserved their criticism, for hadn't she, no matter how briefly, turned her back on the sea? When she had been soundly scolded she followed them back toward the skerry where they rested in the evenings. The seal lay with her back to the land and her face pointed toward the open water.

As the rest of the seals settled in around her, restlessness made her pelt itch and mind reel. Could she not be content with this life? She was free to swim as far as she pleased, to wake with the morning sun and sleep when the moon was high. She had seen people walking the beaches, fretting about mundane human matters, coming to the sea seeking solace from their hectic lives. She did not envy that.

Yet she couldn't help but wonder why she possessed the ability to shed her seal skin if she was not meant to walk on land.