"The History of the Mer-folk"

[Finduilas Ancalimon]

(this is a story I wrote for a mod for the game morrowind. The mod enabled a new race called the mer-folk. The books and races can be found at morrowind summit under the author title DaleStocker and Fernel)

Enjoy~~

In the crisp morning air of the waning days of Last Seed, the young girl’s breath hit the air in a fine mist. The moons Masser and Secunda had already descended from their lofty perch, the rays of Magnus now add ing a fiery touch of orange and red along the lapping waters of Lake Amaya.

Despite the early hour, a great deal of activity was already underway at the nearby plantations, preparations for the coming harvest, she thought. Near the water’s edge, the light fishing skiffs bobbed lazily as the fisherman prepared for another day’s work. Her father was among them, his back bent, preparing his well-tended nets.

She wandered quietly toward him, the sound of a cliff racer calling in the distance, likely chasing its morning meal. Absently helping the elder man with a tangle in the netting, her eyes returned to the waters, squinting slightly as Magnus grew larger on the horizon.

Turning toward her with a smile, her father recognized the look upon her face. She was a quizzical, intelligent child…certainly not one who would spend her life fishing, he thought with a wry grin. That look meant she was trying to piece together a puzzle that was so far eluding her. Without a little prodding, she might very well spend the rest of the day trying to unravel this mystery that she was newly preoccupied with.

“What troubles you child?” he inquired, hauling up the net before casting off, his voice and the movement of the skiff intruding upon her thoughts only vaguely.

Her brow furrowed as she turned her clear eyes toward him. “Father,” she said waving a hand toward the waters about them, “why do the waves come and go as they do? They seem sad to me, as if they are reaching for land, or something, but it is always out of reach.”

He smiled broadly at the curious girl. Running a hand through his slightly graying hair, he thought a moment before speaking, his eyes looking out upon the glistening waters of Amaya.

“There was a time when the waters stood quite still long, long ago,” he sat to his work, beckoning the young girl to do the same. “Sit child and I will tell you of how the waters came to move.”

Setting his nets, his muscles needing no direction after years of such toil, he shared his timeworn tale from memory, his daughter’s eager face gazing nowhere but at the elder man. She knew her wise father had the answers she sought; she only need listen and all would be revealed.

[Finduilas Ancalimon]

In the beginning, Y’ffre, God of the Forrest and the first of the Ehlnofey, created the laws of nature. These laws helped define each identity upon the land.

Before the Ehlnofey, all beings were in chaos. Man, beast, and plant life had no sense of identity, thus they were unable to obtain stability. Y’ffre gave each being its own identity in the world, creating separateness.

Man became man. Beast became beast. Plants became plants.

Each had its own purpose. Each was to work in unity for the world to survive. Now that each being had a sense of identity, they were able to understand how they were separate from others. Man knew himself and knew he was different from beast or plant. For many years, all worked in unity and the lands flourished.

Time passed and with it, many forgot the rules of unity. Man began to take from the earth without replenishing it. Plants became weeds and destroyed crops planted by man. Beast turned hostile towards man. Man hunted far more beast than was necessary for survival.

Y’ffre, seeing this, appointed messengers of each species to keep him informed of the changes upon the land. He then looked to the waters and observed no living things.

After much thought, Y'ffre created new creatures for the waters. These creatures he named “Telparien” meaning “of the water.” Y'ffre set upon the Telparien the laws of nature. He found happiness in their innocence. There was unity in the waters that had been lost upon the land.

Y’ffre created a messenger of the water, a lovely female with silvery scales that reflected the sunlight. He gifted her with special powers. She would swim the waters and pass the words of Y’ffre to all creatures. He named her “Galathil” — the lady of the water. Her creator would watch her swim through the waters and revel in her antics as she jumped high and fell gracefully, created a very large, unladylike splash. When Y’ffre felt saddened by the unrest upon the land, he would come to the waters and allow Galathil to lighten his mood. Of all his creatures, Galathil became one of his favored.

Time went by and man discovered the Telparien. He looked to them and thought them ugly compared to his own sense of self. Man named the Telparien “fish” meaning “to gather” or “to hunt.” Since the fish were not hostile to man, he hunted them with ease. Their flesh he consumed. Their oils man used in remedies and such.

Y’ffre observed this but kept peace within himself, for he loved man as he did all his creatures. He contented himself that his messengers would spread the laws of unity and thus maintain balance in the world.

[Finduilas Ancalimon]

The Murder Of Galathil part one


One morning, two men were preparing their nets off the shores of Lake Amaya. As they worked, they discussed news of their village. Ignor and Elensar were neighbors and friends for many years. Both young and strong, they were responsible for feeding the elders of their village. Both men were also anticipating the birth of their first children.

Elensar was full of excitement thinking of the coming babe. Ignor, however, was was far less exuberant. He was worried about his wife as she approached her time and voiced his concern to his friend.

“My wife seems tired all of the time,” he said worriedly. “I cannot get her to eat. She lays in her bed, weak. I fear for this birth and my wife.”

“Do not worry,” said Elensar, suddenly feeling guilty about his own joy. “When the time comes, I am sure both your wife and babe will be fine.”

Ignor’s concern, far from abating, intensified.

“She grows weaker everyday. I must entice her to eat for her and the babe’s sake,” he said, determinedly. “She loves fish so I will catch the largest fish I can. I will make her a hearty stew and sthingy it to her all night if need be. Maybe I can take the oils from today’s catch to Isilwen, the old healer, for a potion of strength.” Though speaking aloud, Ignor was voicing his plans more to himself than anyone else.

Elensar smiled broadly. “Then let us get those fish, my friend,” he laughed, “for I fear, not before long, we will both have another mouth to feed.”

Both men threw out their nets and watched for the telltale silvery flashes that would signal fish were close by.

As the men worked their netting, Galathil, a Telparien and favored messenger of Y’ffre, was busy spreading the word of her creator. She loved sunny mornings and would take time out to check on the young ones of her race. She would jump high out of the water and watch them giggle at her antics. Thus she was entertaining this morn. The sun would sparkle off her scales, casting little reflections from above throughout the water. The babes surrounded her, giggling and nudging each other to get a closer look, then dart off to chase the sparkles of the sun on the sea.

Just as Galathil jumped high out of the water, Ignor saw her and knew this was the fish to catch for his ailing wife.

“Did you see the size of that fish?” he exclaimed, his eyes intently trying to follow Galathil. “That would feed most of the village and make a fine stew for my wife!”

He pulled his net up, casting it in the direction of the ripples. Ignor watched as the net landed and floated out of sight around the sparkles. Galathil, seeing the net with alarm, tried to warn the babes. It was too late, however. One of the little ones was heading directly towards it.

Onward she rushed as fast as she could. She pushed the child to safety just as Ignor felt a small tug in his netting. Galathil saw the child rolling sideways in the water as she herself felt the net tighten around her own body. Her thought, at the time, was relief as she saw the child free in the water. Then she felt the net’s grip upon her and instinctively thrashed to and fro. Becoming tired, Galathil could fight no longer and was pulled ashore by the eager fishermen.

Ignor pulled quickly as he felt the struggle in the net.

“Help me friend for this fish is a fighter and may destroy my net before I get it in!” he cried.

Gripping tightly at the netting, their muscles straining to capture their prize, Ignor and Elensar finally dragged the mighty fish to shore. The net itself was torn and ruined from the struggle, but inside lay the largest fish either had ever seen in their many years of fishing the lake.

[Finduilas Ancalimon]

The Murder of Galathil part two


Galathil looked up at the men as they began to cut the net away from her body, trying desperately to remain calm and appeal to their senses.

“Do not harm me,” she warned, “for I am a messenger of Y’ffre and favored by him.”

The men looked at her, startled to hear such a lovely voice come from what they perceived as an animal, useful only for its nourishing flesh and healing oils.

“My name is Galathil. I spread the laws of unity to my kind and other creatures of Y’ffre,” she gasped as she felt the alien environment squeezing the breath from her. “Release me and forever have the grace of Y’ffre. Kill me and suffer his vengeance.”

Elensar, hearing her words, became worried. “Let us release her for I do not want to bring the wrath of Y’ffre upon our village,” he begged his friend.

Ignor would not be dissuaded.

”Of course I cannot release her!” he said plaintively. “This fish may be the very thing that saves both my wife and newborn!” He returned his wild gaze to Galathil. “I am sorry, fish, but my wife is ill and she carries my babe. Your flesh will nourish her. Your oils will strengthen her!”

With one deft move, Ignor took his dagger and sliced the head from Galathil’s body.

A piercing scream tore through their ears and rent the skies around them as the blade completed its bloody task. Galathil’s body jumped once, causing both seasoned fisherman to leap backward in spite of themselves, and was then still. The men became fearful, wide eyes darting to and fro as if waiting to be assailed from all sides. Hefting the lifeless body of Y’ffre’s messenger, they hurried their catch away from the shore to their village.

Elensar, fearing for his wife and expectant child, waited until nightfall and took her and their few belongings away from the village to the mainland. He felt for his friend, but he also felt sorry for the killing of such a unique creature. He decided he would give up fishing and find work in one of the cities as a trader or bookseller.

While Elensar was leaving the village, Ignor was busy preparing his broth. He had taken Galathil’s oils to the healer and would also give his wife the potion.

The color returning to her face after just a few sthingyfuls of stew encouraged Ignor. He then fed her the potion Isilwen had prepared for him. He did not tell his wife of the words spoken by Galathil for fear she may become worried and not partake of the broth.

Ignor watched his wife sleep peaceful thereafter, content that he had saved both mother and child. He fell asleep with dreams of a strong, healthy male.

[Finduilas Ancalimon]

The Murder of Galathil part three

As Ignor fell into deep, contently slumber, he couldn’t know that the moment his blade ended Galathil's life, her death scream rang to the heavens and pierced Y’ffre’s heart. Had he been aware, the young man’s dreams would have quickly descended into nightmare.

Y’ffre looked down upon Nirn, at his slain daughter, and his heart filled with sorrow, which soon erupted into rage.

“How dare this man…this ...this…vile, puny man disregard the warnings of my Galathil?” he spat out “man” as if it were an epithet. “Who is he to take one of my own so a creation of his can survive? Is his creation so much dearer than mine? Does he think to put himself above me?!”

Tears flowed along his enraged face. Y’ffre fell to his knees crying for his lovely child, his lovely Galathil.

“All that is innocent has been taken from me! My lovely Galathil, I will avenge your death. I will create havoc upon this man, his home, and his village!” he seethed. “All will know my wrath. All will know the name Ignor and know it for one who does not listen. I will teach all to heed my words and my rules. I will take what he desires most! I will take his creation! I will squeeze the life out of his child as he has done mine!”

All the heavens shook with his words. All gods heard and felt for Y'ffre. One god in particular became particularly interested in Y’ffre’s anguish.

Mehrunes Dagon, God of Destruction, smiled as he listened closely to the ranting of a god in mortal pain. He thought to himself that the opportunity for mischief had certainly arrived. He went to Y’ffre, feigning comfort and understanding.

“My friend I feel for you, I surely do. To think that your lovely little Galathil was murdered by this obnoxious man is unthinkable!” Mehrunes spoke, his deep voice a combination of growl, laughter, and condescending assurances. “But before you do something rash that you will regret, listen to me. I have a suggestion for you, a way to make sure this never happens to one of your favored ever again. Of course you can just kill the child, but what I have in mind is much better.” The fanged smile that curled upon Mehrunes demonic visage withered flowers and trees throughout the Ascadian Isles.

In his rage Y’ffre forgot how easy it was for Mehrunes to make lies and deceit sound like words of honey, completely sensible truths to follow and take note of. The destroyer god wrapped a clawed hand around the grieving god’s shoulder.

“Calm yourself friend and listen to what I have to offer,” he purred as he gently guided Y’ffre to a seat and poured him a soothing drink.

The drink soon made Y’ffre feel calm and willing to listen to the advice of Mehrunes. “Tell me of your plan,” the elder god sighed.

“Ah my friend. Relax, there is no hurry, no hurry whatsoever,” the deceiver said, continuing to fill Y’ffre’s cup just as he filled his ears with exactly what he knew he wanted to hear. “I will tell you how you can exact your vengeance. It is the very least I can do…for a friend.”

The two sat together, one feeding the other sweet lies and deceit. The God of Destruction and the God of Creation sat throughout the night making a pact that would change the world forever.

[Finduilas Ancalimon]

The Wrath of Yffre


The night was calm and quiet as the stars sparkled in cloudless skies. It was a lovely night for the birth of his firstborn, thought Ignor to himself.

His wife, although ill during most of her pregnancy, had recovered in the last three days. Ignor knew it was the nourishing stew and potions made from the flesh and oils of the large fish he had caught and killed, despite dire warnings.

As his wife struggled inside their hut with the midwife, Ignor had dreams of a healthy male child that would grow to become a strong man. As he paced back and forth crafting plans of teaching his son how to fish and hunt, he heard a small cry come from inside. With joy, Ignor rushed inside his home. Standing there over his resting wife was the midwife holding a small bundle. Smiling to himself, he went to the midwife with outstretched arms.

“Give me my son, woman, for I have longed to hold him for many nights now,” he beamed as he went to take the squirming bundle from her.

The midwife prepared to hand the babe to the father. “You shall be holding your daughter this night sera,” she said with a small grin. She noticed a moment of disappointment in his face at the mention of daughter. “Take her, Ignor, for you should be proud to have a daughter as lovely as she.”

The midwife stretched out her arms, holding his newborn daughter to Ignor.
He hesitated for a brief second then once again joy rushed over him.

“Ah, a wee little daughter is it,” his chest puffed. “I will protect her forever!”

Just as Ignor reached for his daughter, he heard a thunderous roar. Both Midwife and new father looked to the sound, which so startled the midwife that the babe fell out of her hands.

Ignor rushed to catch the child, his breath catching in his throat as moments stretched out to seemingly hours. As the child fell, his hands stretched and spread to grab the precious babe but a large wave crashed through the house, sweeping both he and the midwife off their feet. Instead of landing safely in her father’s arms, it was the wave that caught his unnamed daughter and swept her away.

Ignor’s last thought as his lungs filled with water were the words spoken by Galathil as she died. “Release me and have the grace of Y’ffre,” the sparkling creature had said. “Kill me and have his vengeance.”

The time of Y’ffre’s wrath was at hand for Ignor’s village. Mehrunes Dagon, God of Destruction and Floods, had visited the town this very night.

The moment Ignor reached for his child, Mehrunes had sent forth floods and mayhem. The town was destroyed along with all who lived there…except one small life.

The child was tossed to and fro by the tempestuous lake, a strange light surrounding her. The light twisted and transformed her little bones, changing her body. The child struggled to breathe as water filled her lungs. The light cascaded within her, releasing the pressure as her cries were smothered. The child ceased her struggles breathing in the water as if it were the life-giving air she sought.

Far away in the city, another child was born.

Elensar held his new son and was filled with awe, his wife sleeping next to him. The baby cooed and opened his eyes and the new father couldn’t help but smile proudly, though that smile quickly faded. He heard thunder rolling in the distance that sent a chill up his spine.

Even though he was full of joy, Elensar could not forget the words spoken by Galathil and worried for his friend. He did not like the sound of the thunder coming from the direction of his birthplace — it felt too much like an ill omen. He looked to his sleeping wife and then to his son.

“I will do my best to keep you safe in this world. I will teach you things you will need to know and I will teach you honor,” he whispered, bending down and placing a kiss on his child’s brow. He then fell asleep dreaming of fishing and hunting with his son.

The thunder rumbled across the skies over Ignor's village and further up to the heavens. Looking down upon the destruction was Kyne, Goddess of Storms. She had created thunderous ripples across the skies to muffle the suffering cries of the drowning. She felt sorry for the people of Ignor’s village. She felt sorrier still for Y’ffre whom she knew would regret this night. She reserved her greatest sorrow, however, for the little babe tossed around in the waters brought on by Mehrunes' flood.

Kyne had overheard the pact made by Mehrunes and Y’ffre the night of Galathil's death and knew she could not convince Y’ffre of his mistake as long as the creator god was under the spell of the deceiver’s potion. She still had not found a way to sneak the broth away from Y’ffre. He sat tonight as he had the last two nights sipping the poisonous brew.

Kyne watched the child and knew she would have to be the one to look after her. She turned the rains warm so the waters would soothe the newborn. The child seemed more rested as the water became less furious and was soon sleeping, gently cradled by the lapping swells. Kyne vowed she would protect this innocent. She would nourish her and teach her about her new home. Thus Kyne spent the night planning for the coming days.

Time went on and Kyne did as she vowed. Soon the child grew into a young woman, lovely and smart. She was different than any she knew but her friendliness and sense of humor won her the hearts of the Telparien and they soon treated her as one of their own. Her face and arms were that of man, while her tail was that of the Telparien. Lovely scales adorned her tail and they would sparkle when the sun reflected upon them. She was very intelligent and loved spending time each morning with the little babes of the Telparien, playing with them and teaching them new games.

She had no name and knew not of her race. At times she would catch herself staring at land’s edge, wondering what was up there. For reasons she did not understand she had a longing for the land. In time she discovered if she concentrated very hard and swayed her arms in such a manner she could make the water rise up upon the land then recede back, bringing with it gifts. She adored the treasures the water would return to her. She would collect leaves, rocks, and other wonderful things and place them in her treasure box. She would often sit with her treasures for hours on end wondering what their purpose was and why she was so drawn to them.

[Finduilas Ancalimon]

The wrath of Yffre part two


Kyne had watched the child grow into a young woman and knew it was time to confront Y’ffre about her fate.

“It has been only yesterday since your pact with Mehrunes, but for the child it has been years,” she began, pointing plaintively at the Nirn seas below. “Not once have you looked upon her!”

Y’ffre, picking up the potion that Mehrunes had left him, frowned to find the bottle empty.

“I do not wish to see this child,” he responded, his eyes cloudy and unfocused, his voice weary with seeming age.

Kyne took the empty bottle from Y’ffre and flung it away, the shattering glass forcing the elder god’s eyes to gaze upon the goddess of storms.

“You have been poisoned by Mehrunes deceit! You did not loose your innocence the day Galathil was murdered; you lost it the day you chose to agree to Mehrunes plan!” she took Y’ffre’s hand, her voice softening slightly. “Come, look upon the child you created and see Galathil anew. It was Galathil's flesh and oils that nourished this child and so Galathil is a part of her. It is time to right your wrong Y’ffre, far past it in fact.”

With that Kyne left him to his thoughts, the train of her flowing dress roiling after her as if the leading edge of a dangerous storm front.

Y’ffre sat and thought of Kyne’s words. Throughout the night he wondered if he in fact been in the wrong.

“I need rest to clear my head,” he sighed, his breath heavy and sorrow-filled. As rest fell upon him, the last drops of Mehrunes’ potion faded from the creator god’s being.

He awoke the next morning, his attitude quite changed. Curious about this child, he went about finding her. Y'ffre looked down upon the waters and saw lovely sparkles. At that moment the child jumped out of the water and landed with a very unladylike splash.

Y’ffre’s heart broke and in turn filled with bitter sweetness. The tears of a god do not fall lightly and here Y’ffre’s flowed freely — they felt cleansing. He began to chuckle at the child’s antics.

“My Galathil made me feel this way. Maybe Kyne is right; maybe Galathil is alive in this child,” he pondered as he looked down into the child’s eyes and knew at that moment that he had not lost his Galathil. She was there in this child’s heart.

Love filled the creator god and the need to protect this child overwhelmed him.

”I will protect her as I failed to do so for my Galathil. I will make warriors in the sea, Telparien vicious to man, with teeth that will shred him if he dares enters the waters threatening the creatures of the sea!" His words quickly became actions, as the world bent to do his will. “They will slaughter any who dare trespass!”

A wave of the creator god’s hand produced slaughter Telparien or “slaughterfish” as man called them. The people of the lands soon came to learn the perils of the waters and were wary. Word spread throughout the world of the new dangers of the seas.

Y’ffre called out to the child. The young woman, at first surprised, looked up and smiled at him.

“You remind me of someone very precious to me,” he said fondly. “Do you mind if I visit awhile?”

“No, of course not. Visit with me as long as you like,” replied the young lady, bowing her head courteously to the elder gentleman. “Although I love the Telparien, I long for another who speaks the language of men. You are the first I have met that can talk as I do.”

And so the two visited with each other. It became a habit each day for Y’ffre and the woman to meet, Y’ffre filling her ears with tall tales and wondrous stories. She soon began to think of Y’ffre as her father and loved him dearly.

“It is time you had a name little one,” spoke Y'ffre one morning, matter-of-factly. “I will call you Arien Celebrindal. Your name means ‘child of innocence.’ Galathil was one of my favored, one of my innocent. I know now in my heart you are her child…the child of innocence.”

Only one tear trickled down the elder god’s cheek at the remembrance of his beloved Galathil. A smile returned to his face as he continued.


“The name is befitting,” he said. “Stay still awhile long, child, and I will tell you of your mother.”

Y’ffre told Arien all of the details of Galathil’s life — from the majestic to the mundane — and her mission to spread the laws of unity. He did not reveal, however, her death or any of the events that followed.

Upon hearing of her mother’s life, Arien’s cerulean blue eyes filled with a new sense of clarity, a new purpose and sense of self.

“I want to be like my mother,” she said, punctuating it with a slap of her tail. “I want to be a messenger. Please, teach me your laws of unity so that I to can spread the word!”

Each day Y’ffre would spend some of their time together teaching her the laws of unity. He would then leave her to her friends the Telparien, knowing the slaughter Telparien would protect her. Time went on and Arien grew into a lovely woman…and the world seemed balanced for a while once again to Y’ffre.

[Finduilas Ancalimon]

The wrath of Yffre part three

Time had indeed passed on land as well. It had been 20 years since that fateful night of Y’ffre’s wrath. Word had reached Elensar many years ago about the destruction of his village. He vowed that as his son grew he would tell him of Ignor and how, through his unwillingness to listen to Galathil's words, he had brought about such destruction.

Elensar also spread the story of Ignor to all who would listen. He told others how important it was to work in harmony with other creatures and to only take what was needed for survival from the lands and the waters. Thus, Elensar in his own way, became a messenger of Y’ffre and so taught his son to follow in his footsteps.

Elensar never was very good as a trader and longed once more for the shores of Lake Amaya. When his son turned 20, he went to him and his wife and told them of his desire to move back to his birthplace. The family packed their belongings and left the city and returned to the beaches of Elensar’s youth. The elder man spent time with his son, teaching him how to hunt and fish as he had always dreamed of doing. Finwe, named by his father, became a just and honorable young man.

Other people came to the shores and settled there along with Elensar and his family. From a few scattered huts, it blossomed to a new community and in turn became a thriving small village.

Finwe took it upon himself to catch fish for the elders of the village, as his father had before him in another village and another time. He would get up at dawn and go to the water’s edge, fishing until Magnus was high in the sky.

After he caught each day’s catch, he would approach the water. Careful to avoid the slaughterfish, Finwe would allow the movement of the water to lap against his legs. Wading in, always wary of the dangers that might lurk below, he would collect little treasures from the sea that the water would bring him — shells, softened pebbles, and such. He loved the water and wondered about its mysteries. Soon, not only was Finwe a fine fisherman, he was also an excellent swimmer. His days fashioned themselves into a series of satisfying habits — fishing in the wee hours of the morning and swimming and collecting treasures in the afternoons.

One early dawn as Finwe prepared his nets, he saw a large splash come from the water.

“That is one big fish or a large school,” he thought out loud, following the glistening activity. “Maybe I will get lucky and catch enough fish with one throw that I can stop early and take a morning swim.”

As he tossed the net in the direction of the splash, he almost immediately he felt the telltale tug of fish in the net. He pulled and pulled, finally getting the net to shore, proud of himself for an excellent catch.

As he opened the net, he stood stock still, mouth agape, his breath coming in an astonished gasp. It was certainly not the haul he had expected. How could he expect to catch a lovely woman covered by a large fish?

Upon closer examination it suddenly dawned on him. The fish was not covering her entirely, just part of her. Her eyes were the color of the deepest blue. Her arms were long and graceful. Her small waist tapered and met shimmering scales, iridescent in their reflection. Instead of legs, she had the tail of a fish. She was in every respect mesmerizing.

“Do not harm me for I am a messenger of Y’ffre,” she gasped as she felt the alien environment squeeze the life from her. “I am the daughter of Y’ffre and Galathil. Release me and forever have the grace of Y’ffre. Kill me and have his vengeance.”

Stunned by her beauty and the fact she was unlike anything he had ever encountered before, it took a moment for him to become aware of her words.

“I know the name Galathil! My father was a friend of Ignor's and was on the shore with him the day he killed your mother!” he replied after he found his voice, the words tumbling forth of their own excited accord. “I know of the wrath of Y’ffre and I know of the destruction that the floods brought. I release you back into the waters, but you must promise me to visit each day and tell me of the mysteries of the sea.”

Arien felt relief wash over her and promised to meet the young man at the water’s edge and tell him all he wanted to know.

“I will do this only if you tell me of the mysteries of your lands,” she replied with a grin.

Finwe dutifully promised to share news of the land with her. He gently lifted her up and placed her back in the water. Once safely returned to her home environment, she turned and waved her hands and the water moved up to his legs and receded. With a light laugh that reminded Finwe of a soothing ocean breeze, Arien gave a final wave and swam away. Finwe stood several long moments transfixed, watching her as she disappeared from view.

Each day thereafter, Arien would finish her visit with Y’ffre, play with the Telparien babes, and then seek out the shores of Lake Amaya. There she and Finwe would meet in the shallows and talk of each other’s worlds. They became close friends and would share many secrets. He would often ask her to make the water move by waving her hands and, of course, she would comply happily.

“Make waves!” he would beg with a laugh and he would cheer at her uncanny abilities. It was always hard to end their visits, but after a while they would part comforted by the knowledge that they would meet again the very next day.

[Finduilas Ancalimon]

The Wrath of Yffre part four

Y’ffre discovered Arien at the water’s edge one morning and demanded to know what she was about. “Have I not warned you of man?” He chastised.

“Father, I have met one of these men and he is honorable.” She then told him of her capture and how the man took mercy upon her and freed her. “He has told me of Ignor and how my mother died. His father was on the beach that day and pleaded to Ignor for mercy.”

A ready smile crossed Arien’s lips at the thought of her daily meetings with Finwe.

“He brings me news of his land and I share news of the water with him,” her eyes were alight with her recollections. “I am lonely and he is the only friend that is somewhat like me.”

Y’ffre felt for his child. He knew it was time to tell Arien everything about her mother’s death and her own creation.

“I am sorry child that I ever listened to Mehrunes. I can never make you a whole man-child for I would be breaking my own laws of nature. I have in my own selfishness forced you to a life of solitude,” the creator god’s voice was deep with sorrow, the lines upon his face deeper still. “You are a Mehr-folk, a creation made by a pact with Mehrunes Dagon. I would have ended your life the night of your birth. If not for Mehrunes, you would never exist. I will leave you now, for I am sure you do not want this fool’s presence around you now that you know the truth.”

Y’ffre turned to leave, fully anticipating this would be the last time he would have opportunity to speak with this child that he loved so dearly, his daughter in heart if not entirely in body.

“Father, Mehrunes may have convinced you to create me but you are the one that has loved me and kept me safe,” she touched his hand tenderly, beckoning him to return her loving gaze. “I have a happy life with many wonders thanks to you.”

Y’ffre wiped tears from his eyes, aware now he would have to reveal to her the curse placed upon her.

“Child I can never allow you to return to the land. Mehrunes would flood all the world and destroy every living creature were I to return you to the form of your birth — thus is the nature of my pact with the Destroyer,” he said heavily. “So too would he flood the mountains and bring poisons to the waters, killing all the Telparien if you are transformed. You may never walk the land. Your life is destined to the sea.”

Arien thought on this for long moments, letting the reality of her situation sink in, her heart beating rapidly.

“But what about a family and children?” she asked plaintively, tears rolling down her face. “Do I not deserve the love I have found in Finwe? Will I never be able to be with him?”

Y’ffre could not stand to see his child hurting so. He also knew he could not sacrifice all living creatures. He thought on this dilemma, coming to a final resolution.

“Have your young man meet me tomorrow at dawn,” he said finally. “Give me this night to try and correct my wrong.”

With that, he disappeared in the mists of the lake morning.

Arien went back and explained all to Finwe. He promised to meet her and Y’ffre at first light. Though the thought of meeting a god face-to-face was daunting to say the least, he would do anything for his Arien.

At the break of dawn a very anxious Finwe waited upon the beach. As he watched the approach of Y’ffre and Arien he was struck speechless, suddenly finding himself in the presence of a god. His legs buckled under him and he fell down to his knees.

“Rise,” commanded Y’ffre. “My daughter has told me of your honor and mercy. I also know that my daughter has fallen in love with you. I cannot change her to a man-child such as yourself for reasons I will explain, but I have this for you.”

As he detailed the Mehrfolk curse, Y’ffre held out an emerald amulet, which Finwe hesitantly took from the god’s hand.

“You do not need to offer me a gift, lord,” he said reverently. “I have found true friendship with Arien and I thank the gods everyday that my father taught me mercy.”

The elder god smiled at the young man’s honesty and forthrightness.

“This is not a gift, but a special amulet I give you. I have empowered this amulet with certain abilities that will allow you to spend time with my Arien in the seas,” he said. “The spell will allow you to breathe and give you a tail that will allow you to swim swiftly.”

Seeing the young man’s startled expression, Y’ffre laughed out loud, a fine, hearty bellow that shook nearby trees and sent flocks of birds into frightened flight.

“No, no child, this will not turn you into Mehrfolk,” he said, his eyes rimmed with amusement. “This will only transform you while you wear the amulet.”

Finwe placed the amulet upon his chest. Feeling the powers take their effect, he was surprised to see his legs transform into a large, scaled tail. Quickly he pulled off the amulet and, to his relief, his legs appeared once more. Both Arien and Y’ffre chuckled at his wariness. Looking up, Finwe joined their laughter.

He placed the amulet on once more and dove into the seas. Y’ffre watched as both Finwe and Arien raced one another, Arien teasingly outpacing him — she was in her home element after all. Allowing them their moments of joy, the creator god in time went to them.

”I must warn you both. Finwe, if you come to my Arien and make her your wife all your offspring have a chance of inheriting Mehrunes curse,” he said gravely. “I cannot change this. Some of your children will be of man while others will be Mehrfolk. Take heed of my words.”

Finwe thought for a moment, his love for Arien stronger then any emotion he had ever felt. He knew that he would marry her and make her happy. Thus he asked Y’ffre for his permission to take the hand of his beloved. Y’ffre granted the request and gave the bride away they day of their wedding.

Time went by and as Y’ffre warned, some of their descendents were of man and others bore the destroyer god’s curse and lived as Mehrfolk. The Mehrfolk, in turn, began to think they were blessed and that their siblings were cursed to life on land. They would joke back and forth and soon changed the name of their race to Merfolk meaning “kindred of man.”

Finwe became Y’ffre’s messenger of the land and Arien continued spreading the laws of unity. Their children and children’s children followed suit. When one would chance upon a man in the seas or land, the messengers would tell the story of Galathil and Arien. They would ask a pledge of the person to keep the laws of unity. If promised, they would give the new messenger the gift of the amulet.

Here ends the story of the origin of the Merfolk.

As for poor, maligned Ignor, even in death he did leave some measure of legacy, though assuredly not one he ever anticipated.

To this day when a mother wishes to scare her child she will say, “Who do you think you are, Ignor, that you can disregard my words? Your chores await and mind me well, child, or I will send the Wrath of Y’ffre after you!”