Merfolk Traders

On the west coast of England, on a stretch of beach that lies near a small fishing village, a flat rock sits near pounding surf and shimmers in the sun. And in a tradition lost in years gone by, the wives and children of the fishermen come down each day the boats are out and lay out items on the rock: bright fresh cut flowers, a wooden toyboat, pins and rings and sometimes coins, shiny things that catch and hold the light even under water. The human folk, as is their way, no longer recall how it all began.

But the merfolk do...

Long and long ago, the story goes, a young male, a merfolk child, ventured too close to the shore, and caught up in a stormtide was flung against a rock and hurt. Lost and alone, his song should have ended there with death by the hand of the humans. But instead, he was found by one of THEIR children, a young girl, and feeling awe at his beauty, and pity for his plight, she aided the young merman. Enlisting her friends, she helped him move to a sheltered tidal pool, and there, as he healed, the merfolk child and the human children came to learn how to speak with each other.

The children soon found that bright colored things or toys that could be pushed about by agile hands and tail delighted him. And when he was well enough to leave, the boy would come and visit his friend at the flat rock near which they had first met. They would speak of their families and their dreams, and as he would leave, he would set a seashell of great beauty upon the rock and take away the gift she'd left him in return.

One day the boats from the village went out and that afternoon a fierce gale blew up. The women and children watched anxiously for their return, but to no avail. When darkness fell and still no boat had made port, sorrow gripped them and some began to weep. On the dawning of the next day, four boats slowly sailed into the bay.

Four boats, out of a fleet of twelve.

One of the missing eight belonged to the father of the girl who had save the merman. She walked along the beach with tear-filled eyes until the merman saw her and asked her why she wept.

"My father is dead," she sobbed. "Lost out on your seas. And I will never see him again." She wiped at her eyes, and when she looked up again, the merman was gone.

She went home and mourned. But the next day, as she walked the beach once more, she could see that lying all around the flat rock were many large objects. They were the bodies of the missing fishermen.

And so began the custom of the merfolk traders. The humans give them things that delight them with their beauty.

In return, the merfolk bring home from raging seas the bodies of their dead.