In the realm of the Vikings,
Could be found an enchanting creature,
Known by some professors and academics,
As Lux Puellamare,
Which roughly translates as Glowing Seagirl.
They were a class of mermaid,
Known for spreading salt in oceans,
And famous for their glowing skin,
Which lit up in the water,
And shone brightly.
It was said that there beauty could not be matched,
And for this reason,
Many men dreamed of have such a Seagirl as a bride.
Trying to catch one,
But often being foiled by the clever creatures,
Who escaped such human desires.
A fisherman,
Called Asmund,
Spotted a Seagirl struggling on the rocks.
Without hesitation,
He risked his own life to rescue her,
And return her back to the sea.
He knelt in the waves of the tide,
As she waved her hands and kept a float on the surface,
Looking back at him.
She smiled and batted her eyes at him,
Fond of her rescuer.
Calling out,
She sang,
“My saviour, My hero,
Your heart is true,
Call to me, through this shell,
And I will come and aid you.”
With that,
She hurled a spiralled shell out to him,
And disappeared beneath the surface.
Months passed,
And Asmund continued his daily routine.
He would sail out early,
On his tiny boat,
Cast his net,
Gather fish,
And then return for lunchtime,
Where he would trade his catch,
At the local market.
After that,
He would head up to the cliff,
Build a large fire,
And light it with his flint,
Acting as a guide,
For the coming warships,
Returning home that night.
On one particularly windy day,
He sailed out early,
Cast his net,
Gathered in fish,
And returned home for lunchtime.
After trading his catch at the local market,
He ventured up the cliff,
To pile up wood for the fire,
Only to find that his wood was rotten,
From the rain that had been pouring.
Foraging around,
He found some wood still dry,
Tucked underneath,
And so piled it up.
Pulling his flint out of his pocket,
He began to flick and cut,
Only to knock the stone out of his hand,
And falling down into the sea below.
Asmund panicked,
Worrying desperately about the coming ships,
And how they would meet a grizzly fate,
On the rocks below.
At that moment,
He realised that he was still in possession,
Of the beautiful spiral shell,
Gifted to him by the Seagirl.
He rushed back down the cliff,
To the beach,
And blew on the shell,
Calling out aloud.
From the water came the Seagirl he had rescued.
She smiled at him,
“Dear saviour, my hero,
How can I help?”
Asmund explained,
And pleaded and begged,
For some way to help guide he ships,
Away from the dreaded rocks.
The Seagirl thought for a moment,
Then spoke once again,
“Take my head, for it will glow in the rain,
And shine out to warn your ships,
And light their way,
But return my head, For if you take too long,
My body will die and rot,
And I will be gone.”
With that,
She placed two hands either side of her face,
She twisted her head and rotated it around,
Pulling it off from her body.
Asmund was in awe,
And in shock.
But time was of the essence,
And so he grabbed her head,
Rushed back up the cliff path,
And stood out on the ledge,
Holding her head up high.
True were her words,
And her skin began to glow in the rain,
Shining out brightly,
And illuminating the way.
And so overwhelmed by the worry,
Asmund collapsed.
He stirred moments later,
And panicked that he had fallen asleep.
Hurtling back down,
Once more,
He rushed to the shore,
To were the Seagirl lay.
Placing her head back on her body,
He waited and hoped and prayed.
Sure enough,
Her head reattached,
She awoke,
And smiled at him once more.
He sighed in relief,
And the sweet Seagirl sang once more,
“Oh saviour, oh hero,
You seem so shaken, truly madly,
Don’t you realise, you lovely man,
Not every story ends badly…”