Chapter Text
In the lands to the north, there are countless tales of water creatures; the Fuathan. They dwell in the freshwater lochs and rivers, the salty coastline that hugs the mainland, and on the desolate, tempestuous islands that are surrounded by unforgiving seas.
Most are regarded as malevolent, an easy assumption when so many humans have lost their lives around them, but to tar them all with the same brush would be wholly unfair.
The Fuathan have a great many forms. Some are wee folk, some are great monstrous creatures. Some dwell in their waters, and some can shift from their supernatural appearances to walk on the land as humans.
Some are good spirits, helping people, using their magic wherever they can, and there are those who are completely indifferent, choosing to spend their time as far from civilisation as possible.
This is the tale of one such creature, a selkie boy called Leis An Òr. His name was given to him by his people because of the chain that his mother had given him, which had always hung around his neck and set him apart from all the others. In their tongue, he was the one ‘with the gold’.
But first, let me tell you about selkies.
Selkies (or silkies, as some folks call them) are rarely seen, but the sailors know one when they see one. They appear as great, grey seals, distinctive in their unusual size. They say that they can walk on land, casting off their seal skins to reveal their human form beneath.
There are stories spanning the years, telling of unfortunate unbetrothed souls. Caught up in their youthful naivety, they become enraptured by a selkie’s beauty and grace. Spellbound by their words and song, persuaded by their charm and seductive ways, they are quickly duped into sharing their bed. Then, the selkies disappear, with no trace or word, only to return before a full year has passed to claim their offspring and take them with them to return to the sea, never to see their mothers again.
This has always been the way of the selkies. Born from loveless unions, never knowing their full parentage. But such are their ways because such is the necessity. All magic has its price, and the cost of theirs is not being able to produce children with their own kind. When a selkie comes of age it is their responsibility, their duty, to go ashore and find a mate for the survival and continuation of their race.
Leis An Òr was a selkie in his prime. He was, for sure, one of the finest examples his species had seen in many years.
As a human, he was tall and lithe, with bronzed skin and chestnut hair. His athleticism visibly translated in his spirit form, also. He was strong and muscular, yet fast and agile, attributes which made him one of the best swimmers they had ever known, but he was often reckless and disobedient.
Although it was forbidden, he was compelled to swim in stormy waters. There was something about fighting against nature when it was at its rawest that made him feel more alive than ever.
His elders disapproved, but their punishments would go unheeded every time, forgotten when the next storm came their way.
Leis An Òr had been raised by his elders, ever since he had been orphaned when he was a young pup. Tragedy had befallen him when he and his selkie father had one day both been shot by the same round from the gunner of a whaling boat. Leis An Òr had been badly hurt, the injury to his shoulder had got infected and had taken many weeks on land for him to recover fully, with the exception of the large, distinctive scar that remained across his right shoulder. His father had not been so lucky; he had perished then and there from the hit. Leis An Òr’s shoulder may have healed over time, but more significant was the unseen injury to his heart.
Now, one would think an experience like that would have driven a young, impressionable soul to come to hate the humans and their kind that had left him with such an unfortunate tale, but to the contrary, Leis An Òr’s resentment was turned towards his own people, for he knew that he had a mother, somewhere, yet because of their ways, he would never know her. He was parentless and he needn’t have been. He had been left to grow up without a family, all because of their own customs. Customs that he could see no need for.
His growing anger towards his world created something else. You see, the laws of the magical world are governed, mostly, by the same strict rules as ours. Everything in life is a balance, there is an equality to all things because, for things to exist, they must have an opposite. Dark must have light, lies must have truth, sadness must have joy, and the counteract of the pain and anger in Leis An Òr’s heart became passion.
Such emotion was unheard of among his kind. This was why the unions they made on land were so easily acceptable to them, why it was so easy for them to walk away and consider it a mere transaction. A deed and nothing more.
But he had always been different. He had always felt different. Even before the tragedy of his father’s passing, his elders had seen it. Leis An Òr had emotions and that was dangerous—he was dangerous—and, as such, he was a liability to the colony.
He had made a promise to his father that he would do his best to hide them. To cover them up and never let them show, or else, he knew, they both risked being banished and shunned by their community.
But when Leis An Òr’s grief took hold of his heart and gave him even more wretched feelings, that’s when he really became the trouble he was predicted to be. Leis An Òr began to question their customs, which led him to be forsaken by his peers, rejected for his bohemian ways. He shunned the notion of taking a mate by deception and swore that when he came of age, he would be going ashore in search of love, not just a maiden to be the mother of his child.
This deeply troubled the elders, and when Leis An Òr eventually came of age they held council and it was decided. Strict lines had to be drawn for the one that was to cause faction among their people and their ways.
He was summoned before them and told that, without fail, he was to go ashore on the seventh tide and he would be given seven days to find a maiden or his selkie skin would be taken from him forever, leaving him bound to the land appearing no more than human, never able to return to his spirit form or his folk again.
Now, Leis An Òr would not mourn becoming estranged from his people, such was the resentment and anger he felt for them now, but to never swim in his selkie form again, to take away his ability to fight with the raging tempests and find his freedom among the waves and solitude on the desolate island crags was a thought he found unbearable.
So, not long after being handed his ultimatum, he found himself heading across the rough waters to the mainland coast from his home, for what was quite possibly the last time. He swam with determination in his gut, to defy his elders and seek his love among the people of the land. He knew not if it were possible, but he was driven by the determination to try.
Armed only with his selkie grace and charm to offer in the hopes that there was one among the few that he could offer his heart to, and one that would give theirs in return.