… unfamilliar scents … unfamilliar sounds … headache … dark … where am I…?

The Selkie slowly regained consciousness. Her head felt like someone was beating a drum inside her skull. She raised her hand and touched her forehead, only to feel …fabric? A bandage? What happened? The last thing she could remember was a massive storm, waves like mountains, cruel currents thrashing her around like a toy while she was desparately trying to reach the surface to breathe but couldn’t tell which way was “up” anyway, then a sudden pain and … darkness. And now she could barely move and everything felt wrong and weird.

“Shhh don’t move. You’re injured pretty badly.” it was the voice of a man, dark and deep, but strangely soft at the same time.

Her stomach was in knots immediatly. Humans. Men. She knew the stories all to well, she knew what it meant for her if he got her skin, and she definitely was in her ‘human’ form at the moment! She forced herself to sit up despite the pain in her back and the tight bandages around her chest, and looked around. The only source of light in the small wooden hut was the fire in the hearth. There was a faint smell of hot tea and baked apples, damp leather, wet cloth… the man sitting beside her bed was huge, broad shoulders, hands big as a bear’s paw. Another, smaller figure was sitting beside the fire, eyes closed, wrapped in a comfy looking blanket, fast asleep while sitting upright.

But there was one thing she did not see anywhere. “Where… where is the …?”

“Your skin?” the man smiled “You’re sitting on it.”

At first she thought the man was taunting her, but as she leaned back and placed her hand behind her, she felt the familiar touch of slightly damp fur beneath her fingers. She sighed deeply and allowed herself to sink back onto the bed. Maybe the man didn’t know what the skin meant to her, but then again … he called it ‘her skin’ and humans do not refer to tanned hides this way.

She opened her eyes again and looked up to him. “…but why? Don’t you …don’t you know…?”

“… that this skin is your literal skin, your life, your very soul? I know. My old man told me the stories … that’s why my boy spent the last two hours in the pouring rain, looking for it. You’re lucky it wasn’t sucked into the deep sea or blown away to the other islands, otherwise we might not have found it.”

“You…went looking for…it? To give it…!?”

“Shhh don’t talk too much. You’re still pretty weak … but you have nothing to fear here. As soon as you’re recovered, noone will hold you here against your will. But please… you need rest.” He gently put the blanket back over her. “May I ask … I’m not familiar with Selkie diet. We have some smoked mackerels here, but if you rather want something… errm … more raw, I could give you the halibut I caught this morning…”

The Selkie smiled, but passed out again before she could answer.

---

It took her almost two weeks to fully recover, faster than a human would have healed, but she still bore the scars on her back afterwards where the waves had slammed her into the rocks at the shore. During that time, she learned that the man was a widower, his wive died during childbirth and he raised his son alone. The son, almost eighteen, was a shy lad who couldn’t even look her in the eye at first but gradually warmed up to her, just like she was reluctant at first but eventually realized that the two men truly meant her no harm.

And they kept their word. When she was fully recovered and felt ready to leave, they accompanied her to the shore and waved her goodbye as she swam out to sea, still in her human form but with the sealskin firmly draped around her shoulders. She only transformed after diving down, but not without looking back to the two men one last time.

---

At least that’s what my grandpa always told me when I was younger. He had been the son of a fisherman, who was in turn also a fisherman, and guess what? I’m a fisherman too. Family business and all that. And I never believed these stories, but we don’t have a TV out here, barely get any internet connection … “telling stories” is the only form of entertainement we have in the middle of this forsaken island.

I never believed these stories … not until today. I’m lying here in the ICU, four layers of blankets on me, and I’m still shivering, staring at the ceiling and trying to process what had happened today. I knew there would be strong winds, the weather forecast is always somewhat accurate here, but I didn’t think it would be SO severe that it could positively rip my boat apart. It felt awful, being sucked down into the deep, seeing the light vanish … I thought I was a goner. Especially when that massive sea leopard appeared out of nowhere, bit into my jacket and janked me so hard that I gasped, and THAT is never a good idea underwater. And then they found me on the shore, unconscious, hypothermic, but alive.

While I’m lost in thought, the door bursts open and dad comes running in, ignoring the angry nurse trying to keep up with him. I’ve never seen him so bewildered! He was always a shy guy, total introvert … how he managed to woo mom will always be a mystery to me. But that’s not important right now.

“Thank the heavens you’re alive!” *he barely gets that sentence out before crushing me in a hug that makes me choke and cough, but he’s just as quick to let go again and sit down. “Sorry! Sorry…I didn’t mean to… how are you? What happened? Mom is on her way too, she’ll be here soon.”

I need a moment to find my voice again. “Dad…you still know the story you and gramps told me when I was younger …? About the woman you found on the shore so many years ago…?”

He looks confused for a moment. “You mean to tell me that …she was the one who …?”

I nod. “I am sure it was her who dragged me to the shore. She still bears the scars on her back.”