A curse gone wrong

Chapter 14

Ylva had a secret passion, a way for her to unleash her pain. She loved to sing.

Usually she got far away from people, so that no one could hear her. Or she went outside when everyone were sleeping, and making sure she did not sing too loud.

Today she sat on the edge of her favorite cliff, with a drum in her hand. While the waves crashed into the sharp rocks, and the wind were blowing, she were able to sing as loud as she wanted. The sounds of the nature, working like a sound barrier, masquerading her singing.

She started to sing an old song about the legend of Kópakonan, the seal woman. A well known folktale in The Faroe Islands.

"Sought death in the ocean, she became a seal woman.

Once a year, on the 13th night,

became human as she shed her skin, dancing with others of her kin.

Young farmer at the beach, waiting to see if myth was real.

He saw the fairest girl, her skin he had to steal.

The others returned to sea, but the girl was left alone without a plea.

The skin the young farmer had, even though that made her sad.

His wife she had to be, no longer to be free."

Ylva's voice shot out at sea, and her voice sounds like as if it's been pushed around and honed by the waves. The drum beautifully and dramatically accompanied her voice. There is an airy, drifting quality to the music. Ylva sounds like an old soul, with a powerful, expressive voice far beyond her years. She is able to move from a muted scream to a seductive caress in a heartbeat. Her voice is raw, unpolished and intense, yet with a sensitivity and vulnerability that could make anyone hear what she is feeling. She seems as one with the wilds and the spirits of the earth.

"Several children she bore to him, and he kept her from her skin.

The skin was kept in a chest, and the key attached to his belt.

She opened the chest, finally got back her pelt.

Him fishing at sea, he forgot the key.

She left her children on land, to return to those beyond the sand."

When Ylva began on the last verse, another voice joined her. A deep, musky and powerful voice. The raspy male voice, rumbled like the rocks of a rockslide, echoing down the steep cliff. Ylva's and the male voice complimented each other nicely. Her high notes, and his bass, almost made it seem otherworldly.

"In the farmers dreams she appeared, him hunting the seals she feared.

The message he did not heed, he made her seal family bleed.

She saw her husband and children's head, they all lay at the table dead.

She turned into a troll, a revengeful curse was her goal.

Men of Mikladalur will die, some at sea others from mountains high,

until enough men had been killed, to make her curse fulfilled.

Dead men linking hands, around the isle Kalsoy's lands."

Ylva did not want to ruin the beautiful song they were singing, so she did not turn around until the song was finished. It was her father, Ragnvald. She should have known, but it had been so long since she had heard his voice. He used to sing to her when she was little. She did not know that he knew this song, since it was an Faroese song.

"Father! I didn't know it was you!" Ylva lay down her drum, and got up from the cliff and walked towards her father.

"When did you get back from your travels?" Ylva asked, still a bit surprised to see her father, he had been gone a while.

"I just got back actually, I wanted to see my daughter, but you were no where to be found. I figured you had run of alone somewhere. I know how much you like heights. And then I heard that voice! Ylva, why have you been hiding this amazing gift from me and your mother?" Ragnvald crossed his arms on his chest, trying to look strict, but Ylva could she that smirk shining through.

"I was embarrassed, I'm afraid of someone criticizing my voice..."

Ragnvald put his hands on Ylva's shoulders, and looked her straight in her eyes.

"Ylva, my darling daughter. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You truly have a beautiful voice. It is unlike anything I have ever heard before. So original! I think the gods and goddesses would be envious." Ragnvald said with a wink in his eye. With his smile so big, his big bushy and unkempt beard almost touching his eyes. He did not bother grooming that much on his travels, he did it for her mother, he once told her.

Ragnvald then wiped a stray tear escaping Ylva's eyes, she did not even realize she was crying. Her fathers words meant so much to her. She needed to hear something nice, after all this time hearing such ugly words about her. Of course her mother complimented her, but it meant so much more coming from her father. As he usually don't say such things, being a man of few words and not usually this sentimental.

"Music is what feelings sound like" Ragnvald said with an empathetic smile on his face.

Such a clever man, Ylva thought.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how you are feeling. You may fool everybody else, but I can see that you are hurting. I never see you with any friends. I have been gone a lot lately, and I haven't been a good father to you. I want you to know I am here for you. It is good for you to get your feelings out, and music is a very good way. Just make sure you don't let those bad thoughts you are probably having fester. Pain fades, unless you feed it."

So many wise words from this man today, Ylva thought.

"I may look big and strong, but I too like to get my feelings out. And music helps me a lot." Ragnvald said while chuckling.

"Actually, there was a reason I was trying to find you. On my way back we saw a school of pilot whales near land, there is going to be a hunt soon. So we better hurry to get back to the shore of the village." Ragnvald said while pointing to the bonfire they always lit, to inform those on the neighboring island about the whaling. They called it grindadráp.

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Authors note:

I have used the voice of faroese Eivør Pálsdóttir as the inspiration for Ylvas voice. And I have added my favorite song of her to this chapter. "Nú brennur tú í mær" (Loosely translated: "Now you burn within me")

And the voice of Ragnvald, is based on another faroese artist; Hanus G. Johansen. Look him up in Youtube, and listen to his song "Átjan". ("Eighteen").

The myth of the seal woman, is an actual myth from The Faroe Islands. And I took the inspiration from the legend to make this poem/song.