In the quiet village of Mikladalur, where the sea whispered secrets to those who listened, a young farmer heard tales of wonder and mystery. They spoke of the Thirteenth Night, when seals shed their skins and walked as men and women. Curiosity tugged at his heart, drawing him toward the shore, where legends stirred beneath the waves.

Oh! Cold winds call from the restless sea,

Whispers of magic that beckon me.

On Thirteenth Night, the secret’s shown,

Where selkies walk, their true forms known.

With quiet steps and bated breath, the farmer hid among the rocks, eyes wide as seals swam ashore, shimmering beneath the moonlight. Their sleek skins slipped away, revealing beings of grace and beauty. But one captured his gaze — a young selkie woman, her eyes as deep as the sea.

She stood in moonlight, wild and free,

A heart unbound, a soul of the sea.

But fate had plans, and hearts would stray,

As night’s enchantment led love away.

Desire clouded his thoughts, and in silence, he took her skin. Trapped between two worlds, she had no choice but to follow him. On the farm, she became his wife, her eyes ever longing for the ocean. Years passed, and though they had children, her heart never truly left the waves.

Bound by love, yet chained by fear,

Her heart a prisoner, year upon year.

A selkie’s song, a silent plea,

To find her way home, back to the sea.

The farmer kept her skin locked away, the key always on his person. But fate is a trickster, and one careless moment was all it took. One day, the key was forgotten — left behind, unguarded. When he returned, the house was silent, and she was gone.

The key was lost, the chest undone,

Her heart reclaimed, her freedom won.

Back to the waves, her soul took flight,

Beneath the waves, she fled out of sight.

Yet the tale did not end with her escape. Vengeance stirred beneath the waves as the selkie woman mourned her kin. For when the farmer hunted at sea, his arrows struck her selkie husband and sons. The ocean wept, and the selkie’s heart turned cold with fury.

Grief like thunder, rolling deep,

A promise made, a vow to keep.

Blood for blood, the tide shall rise,

Vengeance echoes in her cries.

Her voice echoed across the cliffs as she swore her terrible oath.

“Some shall be drowned, some shall fall from the cliffs and slopes.

This will not end until so many men are lost that they can link arms around the island of Kalsoy.”

Legends linger where tides may roam,

A selkie’s heart forever calls home.

But when love is stolen and kin are slain,

The sea will rise, to drown sailors again.