Lily
James's voice was low, like the hush of the sea before a storm. He sat across from me in the cabin, his gaze distant, as though the weight of memory pressed too heavily for him to meet my eyes.
"I was raised on the water," he began, "the son of fishermen. My life was simple: just nets, tides and the salt in my skin. Then I went to town one day to sell our catch, and that's where I met Martha. She smiled at me like the world had been waiting for me to see her. I left the sea behind for her, moved to the city, believing I could make a life away from the waves."
He paused, his expression shadowed. "But the sea never left me. I didn't know why, didn't even know what I was… not until Zal found me. He saw it before I did, saw what I was and decided he would use it. He dragged me into his schemes, twisted my power to serve his hunger. That's how I learned the truth: I was a Selkie."
"A Selkie?" I repeated, the word strange and heavy on my tongue. "What is that?"
He leaned forward then, his ghostly form flickering faintly in the lamplight, his voice carrying a rhythm that felt almost like the pull of a tide.
"Selkies are the children of the sea," he said. "In the water, we are seals. On land, we shed our skins and walk as humans. The skin is everything—it is our bond to the ocean, our true form. Take it from us, and we are trapped in the shape of men. Steal it, and we are bound, powerless, until it is returned. That is how Selkies are enslaved."
A chill crawled down my spine. A being caught between two worlds, neither fully one nor the other… I thought of the longing in James's eyes when he spoke of Martha, and the sorrow when he spoke of the sea.
And for the first time, I wondered if I was speaking to a man… or a story the sea itself had spat back into my path.
I couldn't stop staring at him. And since I had met James, I didn't see a ghost with secrets, or a man wrapped in guilt, I saw a victim. Someone who had been taken, twisted, and used. The thought of it knotted something inside me.
"Why would Zal go to that extreme to exploit you?" I whispered, my voice softer than I expected. "What sort of powers could possibly be worth all that?"
James's lips curved in a faint, almost bittersweet smile. "You really want to know?"
I nodded.
He drew in a slow breath, as if choosing each word with care. "A Selkie's power is… rare. Haunting. We are bound to both the sea and the moon, two forces that never rest, never bend. With the Voice of the Tide I can sing songs that don't just linger in the ear, but reach deeper. They can stir hearts, bend wills, calm storms… even call to the lost across realms."
A chill swept through me. His eyes gleamed faintly, like water catching moonlight.
"But there's a price," he continued, quieter now. "Every note I sing drags me closer to the spirit world. That's how Zal first trapped me, he knew the more I used my voice, the weaker my hold on the living became."
My breath caught. "And you… you still carry that power?"
He inclined his head, then looked away, as though ashamed. "Through Moonbinding, I can weave spells into moonlight itself. Imagine chains that cannot be broken until the lunar cycle turns. That's why Zal craved it—such bindings can hold anything, even spirits like him. But the cost… is weakness. The darker the moon, the fainter I become."
His words settled heavy in my chest. Sea and moon. Songs and chains. Power and sacrifice.
I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. "So that's why he wanted you. Not because you were James, Miriam's son in law but because you were a Selkie."
James finally met my gaze again, and for the first time I saw something raw in him; sorrow, yes, but also a fragile hope.
"There's more to these powers, Lily," he said softly. "More than even I understand. But one thing I know for certain…" His hand hovered close to mine, like a ghost yearning to touch. "You may have inherited them from me."
My heart stopped. Me?
The room seemed to tilt, shadows flickering against the cabin walls, as if the sea itself had crept closer just to listen.
He looked at me like usual; steady, deliberate, like his gaze could peel me open and lay my soul bare. Every word he spoke carried the weight of centuries, and it made me uneasy, as though I stood at the edge of something vast and unknowable.
"From your grandmother, Miriam," he said, voice deep, "you've inherited the gift to command the creatures of the land. But there is another power within you that's greater and deeper, one you have yet to awaken."
I arched a brow, trying to cover the spark of curiosity with practiced defiance. "Another and greater power? And what could that possibly be?"
A faint smile touched his mouth; sad and almost tender. "Two powers, actually. The first is in the sea itself. You have the power to influence its tides, its storms, and every creature that swims beneath. That bloodline flows from me, Lily. It is the truth of what I am."
His words hit me harder than I wanted to admit. Selkie. The word whispered at the back of my mind, the old stories slipping through memory like saltwater through fingers. Shape-shifters. Seal-skins. The sea's lost children. I had laughed at the myths once, but staring at him now, with his eyes glimmering like waves at midnight, I wasn't sure laughter had a place anymore.
"And the second," his voice lowered, reverent as though speaking it aloud might awaken it, "Moonbinding. You may have the power to weave your spells into the moon's light, to bind them beyond breaking until the heavens themselves shift. Few in all the old bloodlines ever carried it. But you… it belongs to you."
The room felt suddenly smaller, air pressing against my lungs. Moonbinding. My heart stumbled under the weight of it; two legacies, two destinies colliding in me.
"When you are ready," he continued, his gaze steady and unyielding, "I will take you to the waters that birthed me. And beneath the full moon, you will claim the power that is yours—whether you wish to or not."
His words settled in me like a tide pulling back to sea, leaving me raw, exposed, and trembling.