Seacliff

Chapter seventy-nine: A history lesson

1940

Aidan didn't know what to say. He looked to the Chief for guidance, who only smiled, then to his father. Sorley had a sombre look on his face.

"I..."

"You mustn't say anything," Amaruq reassured him. "It's only important that the Elder knows who you are."

Aidan chanced another glance at Mansa Abubakri. The name had rung a bell, like a coin rattling around his brain, and that penny finally dropped. Their earlier encounter with 'Mansa Musa' had reawakened the particular puzzle of historical knowledge which the Elder's name fit into.

"Aidan Mortimer...," the Elder spoke, albeit without opening his mouth. A strange vibration emanated from his body, making Aidan's skull throb. "Welcome."

The blue eyes then shut again and the halfling boy could breathe easy once more. Amaruq did not let go as he led him back into the dim passage.

"I... I need a moment," Aidan said and slumped against a wall. He had to gather his disparate thoughts into a coherent picture. "Mansa Abubakri... like the medieval ruler of the Mali Empire?"

"Silver Skin," Amaruq turned to Sorley, "your son's a scholar!" Then to Aidan, "Indeed, my boy. The one and only."

Aidan's head snapped up. "You mean he is Emperor Abubakri? Who sailed off into the Atlantic, never to return again? The real brother of the real Mansa Musa?"

Amaruq bobbed his head in agreement.

"But..." Sorley frowned, confused. "I thought Mansa Musa was Amaruq's brother."

Amaruq rolled his eyes. "My little brother wishes he were an Elder."

Aidan straightened up and began pacing in circles.

"No, another Mansa Musa. The real one. He is thought to have been the richest man ever. He was so rich, he essentially travelled with a whole city across the desert on his pilgrimage to Mecca, and he gave so much gold away when he passed through Egypt that he ruined the country's economy for years to come.

"He ruled the Mali Empire in West Africa. But before he came to power, his brother Abubakri, obsessed with the Atlantic, had abdicated the throne to go exploring. He took thousands of ships with him, full of people and gold and... and food and water, and they all... disappeared. He wanted to find the other shore of the ocean and never came back – "

He stood still, his eyes glinting. "Turns out he's been a selkie all along! Did he discover America before Columbus? Was Columbus a selkie? I have so many questions!"

Amaruq laughed. "No, to my knowledge, Columbus was never a selkie. And it's debatable whether Mansa Abubakri was a selkie all along or became a selkie after his expedition failed and all his ships sank."

Aidan blinked, bewildered. "Well... have you never asked him?"

"Of course, we've asked him. But Elders are... fickle creatures. Being alive for so long will do that to you. At some point, memory becomes indistinguishable from mirage. Come, now. There is much else to show you."

"How would he have become a selkie, though? Is that possible? For humans to... transform?"

"I haven't witnessed it myself in my three centuries of existence, but there are ancient accounts which relate it. If I'm not mistaken, the Celtic colonies perpetuate the tale of Man wearing the skin of a seal he's slaughtered in order to survive at sea. Then eventually, he becomes the seal and breaks out of his skin when he spots the love of his life and their children frolicking on the beach... Correct?"

"Uh..." Aoife Sr had transcribed that creation myth in one of her journals, as told by Sorley's father, Eachann. "That's the version I've heard, yes."

"How romantic, the Celts. The Inuit have a different theory. Do you know of Sedna, the sea goddess?"

Aidan shook his head. Inuit mythology was not something he had delved into... yet.

"Well, Sedna is purported to be the mother of all sea creatures. There are versions of the tale, but essentially, she is thrown into the sea and has her fingers cut off – these fingers become the first seals, or... the first selkies. Sedna is then doomed to live at the bottom of the sea for all eternity, and the Inuit must appease her when they go hunting.

"At any rate, the general belief in these parts is that Sedna, the Mother of the Deep, took pity on poor Abubakri, ruined by his insatiable thirst for knowledge, and gave him renewed life as a selkie. Whether it's a curse or a blessing, well... that's for scholars such as yourself to theorise."

Aidan's mind reeled as they exited the underground labyrinth. The selkie side of his family could never collect the sort of mythical knowledge that thrived in an established community. He looked forward to dive into the depths of this society he'd stumbled upon.

"So... what is the go-to language around here?" Aidan wondered. "English? Inuit?"

"It's mainly English and French now, but really, we have all sorts. It's... How do you call it? A melting pot? Selkies come and go and they bring their languages with them. Words, too, migrate and mutate."

"There is no native selkie language, though, is there?" Aidan concluded. "A single, standalone language developed by selkies, rather than humans?"

"Not specifically, no. Selkies haven't always required language to communicate. That necessity only developed after interacting with humans. Now only Elders possess the ability to communicate without words."

"Elders, right." Aidan's excitement was growing by the second. "What are they? Are they just really old selkies, or... more?"

"Elders," Amaruq pondered, "are the Keepers of our colonies. Of pure selkie lineage, undiluted by human blood. The direct descendants of our Makers."

"So... are they immortal?"

"No."

"Well, then what happens when they die? If they're the only ones left with no human in their bloodline, at some point they'll have to mix with us commoners or... give birth to inbred babies. Charles II of Spain can attest to how pretty that isn't."

Amaruq's eyebrows furrowed.

"What I mean to say is," Aidan reiterated, "at some point, these purebred Elders will die out. What happens then?"

A slow nod of understanding. "It is believed that when the last Elder closes their eyes forever... the world, as we know it, will end."