Red-haired and green-eyed Rowan is an average Scottish Girl. Of course, there is one thing special about her, something that was once abundant but in modern times is now ignored. She believes in all the stories, of selkies and fairies, and most of a...
Sìle stops halfway down the tower, floating beside a hole in the silvery-green metal. She is smiling politely when Rowan reaches her, but there is some other emotion in that smile. Joy, perhaps? She motions towards the hole and Rowan swims inside, nervous. It is a fairly empty room. It contains a slab of seaweed-covered stone that seems to serve as a couch, but nothing else. Rowan stays in the centre of the room. Sìle ducks inside and moves straight for the couch, perching on it delicately. Her tail curves to the side, tucked against the stone. She motions to Rowan.
"Come, join me."
Rowan sits gingerly on the seaweed-covered stone, mildly surprised to find that it feels soft instead of slimy. Sìle leans back against the wall and tilts her head to look at Rowan. Rowan's brow furrows at her expression. Why is Sìle so interested in her?
"Why have you brought me here?"
"As I have said before, to talk."
"Then talk!"
Sìle just smiles. "Patience, Child of Two People. The time is coming."
She looks up at one of the men who followed her into the room and nods. He glances out the window-door and barks to the others. "Bring it!"
Rowan frowns. What are they going to bring? Is it bad? She shifts away from Sìle, towards the end of the couch. Something seems off here. Sìle has answered none of her questions.
"How did I get to the loch?"
Sìle beams. "We brought you. You were in the A 'mhuir eadar rìoghachdan-"
"You told me that already."
Sìle nods. "Yes, I did. We pulled you through to our loch."
"Where is the loch?"
"I believe your human name for the loch is Loch Assynt. To us finfolk, however, this is Loch Hildaheem."
Rowan's mouth drops open. "You pulled me over to the other side of Scotland?!"
Sìle grins. "Oh yes. It was quite simple. You hadn't yet tethered your part of the A 'mhuir eadar rìoghachdan to a destination, so we locked it in to this loch."
There is a faint sound from outside the room and Sìle looks to the opening. Rowan can see hints of motion from outside the room and leans forward in her seat. Two finfolk men are carrying a large stone slab between them, trying to move towards the room. But why? Why are they carrying a slab of stone around? Even underwater that must be astronomically heavy. They tilt the slab to the side and position it at the opening.
The man in the room with Sìle and Rowan goes over to the window-door and grabs the other end of the slab, the end poking into the room. He grasps it between both hands and tugs while the men on the other side push it through. It grinds against the metal of the window-door, sending stone dust loose into the water. But centimetre by centimetre, it slides into the room. When it is halfway through, it tips and grinds on the floor as it is pushed in.
When it is fully inside the room, one of the other men comes through behind it. They carefully lower the slab to the floor and Rowan can see writing on it in elegant script. The words are written in Scottish Gaelic. Just looking at them, Rowan can't understand what they mean, not at first. The letters slowly rearrange themselves on the slab, becoming English.
But Rowan can see the shadows of the Scottish Gaelic words lying above them, giving the slab a strange sense of duality. It is similar to when Rowan's brain was beginning to translate words, she heard them in both languages. Now she is seeing them in both languages. She pushes off the couch and swims closer to the slab, positioning herself in the air above it. She mouths the words to herself, looking at the Scottish Gaelic ones before the English.
Feumar mallachd seann a bhriseadh, mus tèid cothromachadh nan uile a chall. Tha triùir ceangailte ri bhriseadh, ach gun fhios. Gorm flùr air chall, Crann-sneachda falaichte air a dhèanamh le rionnagan, agus dearc de dhearg càraid. Feumaidh a h-uile càil a thighinn no a h-uile càil a chall. A curse of old must be broken, before the balance of all is lost. Three are bound to break it, yet unknown. A lost flower blue, a hidden snowflake made of stars, and a berry of twinning red. All must come or all is lost.
Rowan turns to Sìle. "What does this mean? Why are you showing me this?"
Sìle tilts her head. "Can't you guess?"
"Just tell me, please."
"This is an old prophecy of a curse that must be broken."
"I get that. It mentions that the curse has to be broken. But what does this have to do with me?"
"Because you are in the prophecy, Child of Two Peoples."
Rowan shakes her head. "I don't understand. How could I be in the prophecy? Why would I be in it?"
Sìle tilts her head. "You are the berry of twinning red."
Rowan shakes her head. "No, I can't be!"
"Why not? You are the Child of Two Peoples and you are wearing a necklace of red berries."
Rowan shakes her head again, her mouth slightly open with disbelief. "But I can't be."
"But you are, Ro." ________________________________________________________________________________ And here is another prophecy! What do you think? Now the merrows, selkies, and the finfolk all have a version of it. What do you think is going to happen next? Tell me your thoughts!
And here is a picture of Rowan for you guys!
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