The Ocean's Daughter (Sequel to Sirene)

Dedicating this chapter to Roxy123. Thanks so much for your lovely comments and support on Sirene :)

Unfamiliar words are marked with a star (*) and their meaning can be found at the end of the chapter. :)

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Chapter 1.

Scotland, April 1906.

 “Haven’t been up here for over three years, have you?” Wesley asked himself as he carefully laid a bouquet of roses by the grave. He gently caressed the old, weather beaten tombstone. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen you in a long time, Mama, but I am sure you understand that it was duty that kept me away. You may be gone from me in body, but I have kept you in my heart. They say the dead are never truly dead as long as they are not forgotten, and I will never forget you; you will always live, live in me.” He smiled and placing a kiss on the stone, rose from his knees and left the lonely grave.

 At the crossroad he paused and looked in the direction of the village. “I haven’t visited the village in over ten years, might as well drop over and see how it is getting on.” Having made up his mind Wesley made a left turn and walked over to the little village that stood not far from the rocky shores of the Northern Scottish Sea.

 "Not much changes here, does it?” Wesley chuckled to himself as he glanced at the small streets lined with little houses, the school house, and the church. “I wonder if they have managed to get electricity into this place, or is it still backward to modern conveniences?”

 “*Whit brings ye to these here parts?” A low voice called out. Wesley turned and saw a trio of old men sitting on a bench. With great effort he smothered his smile. Of course they didn’t recognize him and he wasn't about to give himself away.

 “I’m here in search of a good story.” he stated, walking up to where the three men sat. The one in the middle had a head full snow white hair gathered in a ponytail. The man sitting on his right had a large bald spot on the center of his grey head and the man on the left had no hair at all.

 “In search *ay a good story, huh?” The fellow in the middle asked.

 “Yes, I am a stranger to these parts and I have heard this village is known for its many stories, and since I am in the neighborhood I’d come and see for myself.”

 “Aye, laddie, ours is an old village that has seen *aw sorts of days.” The old man on the left nodded his head. “*Hae a seat if ye will. What’s yer *nam?”

 “I go by the name of Wesley Chesterton. And you three are?”

 “*Th' village story tellers.” The fellow in the middle said with a grin. “I’m Brian McDuff, Malcolm McEwart on me right and Angus McFeer me left. Consider yerself very lucky, Wesley m’boy, because if *anyain can tell a good story, it is th' *thee ay us.”

 Wesley sat on the old stump by the old men and grinned at them. They never changed. No matter what happened to this village, McDuff, McEwart, and McFeer were always sure to sit here on this bench and tell tall tales to anyone willing to listen.

 “So, what sort ay story are ye looking fur?” Angus asked.

 “Not sure, what sort of perils has this village been through? Surely even a village as small as this one has seen plenty of trouble.”

 “Th' only trooble that comes to *uir village is brooght when th' tide comes in. Wa, back in the' Golden Age of Piracy, we *hud our share ay pirates in the harbors and coves surroondin' uir village.”

 “Speaking of pirates,” Wesley was suddenly struck with a thought, “are the shores around this village known to harbor mermaids?”

 The three men exchanged glances.

 “Weel now laddie, that is a bit ay a *stoaner question.” Brian said with a thoughtful expression. “I wooldn’t say we were ever *awaur ay mermaids hauntin' uir shores…but now that ye mentioned it, th' Ocean’s Dochter comes to *mah mind.”

 “Oh?” Here was a story Wesley hadn’t heard before. “Who is she?”

 “I’d hae thooght her name would hae told ye everythin'. She’s the dochter of th' ocean.”

 “The daughter of the ocean?” Wesley raised an eyebrow.

 “Aye, laddie, aye, she’s a great mystery, a great, great mystery. The legend goes that th' great Spirit of th' Ocean took all that was good an' true an' turned it *intae a maiden so fair, *e'en the angels ay heaven *swatch *doon on her wi' envy. Her eyes are like seaweed an' her hair th' colur of *dreich *sain. Her skin is as white an' smooth as a pearl. No man on earth *ur spirit in heaven stands a chance against *sic' beauty. Th' Ocean knows this, an' that is wa' it keeps her safely hidden *frae the eyes ay th' mortals an' celestial alike. As long as she is near th' ocean she is safe frae harm, but th' moment she travels *inlain, the Ocean’s Dochter is sure to hae her heart broken.”

 “And where does 'The Ocean’s Daughter' live?”

 “Somewhere along the *shair, cannae say fur sure. It is a secret no one ooght to *ken.”

 “Is it possible to catch a glimpse of her?”

 McDuff shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps, laddie, perhaps. If ye go to th' shair in the morn or even' ye may catch her singin' to th' sun as it rises an' sets. But I feel I ooght to warn ye, better *dornt go lookin' fur that which ye *arenae supposed to see. Ye will only *brin' *abit sadness an' grief. Her *bricht eyes, her *sweit song, they will burn intae yer heart an' ye will wish to *claeem them for yer ain. But *min', th' moment she abandons th' sea for th' shair her ruin is certain.”

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So here it is, the first chapter of our new adventure with Oceana. I hope you liked it. Vote and/or comment if you did. Your comments and votes mean so much to me :) they really brighten up my day.

Meaning of unfamilar words:

abit: about,   ain: own,   anyain: anyone,   arenae: are not,   aw: all,   awaur: aware,   ay: of,  

bricht: bright,  brin: bring,claeem: claim,  dornt: don't,   dreich: wet,   doon: down,  e'en: even,  

frae: from,   hae: have,   hud: had,   inlain: inland,   intae: into,   ken:know,  mah: my,  

min: remember,     nam: name,   sain: sand,   sic: such,   stoaner: hard,   swatch: look,   th': the,  

thee: three,   ur: or,    uir: our,   wa: why,   weel: well,   whit: what,    wi': with,   wo: why.