Maerla, The Kelp Oracle

They say she’s older than the lake itself. That she once loved a fisherman who vanished on Candlemas Eve. Some say she lured him. Some say she wept him into fog. Either way, she reads the shells still.

Under Lough Owel

A rhyme passed between schoolchildren:

Tell Maerla your secrets
then bury them deep,
under nettle and clam-shell
where day cannot creep.

But if she returns them
with sea-smelling breath
you’d best take her warning--
she’s dreaming of death.

The Linnet's Wings

Satyrday Shell Readings

This Satyrday, the Oracle left her message in the undercurrent near Widow Leelee’s jetty, carved into a whorl of mother-of-pearl and wrapped in a trout’s last breath.

The Shell of Echo -- What stirs beneath...
You’ve been hearing things. Not voices, exactly--more like memories in disguise. Follow them, but don’t invite them in for tea just yet. The past is clever and wants a place to sleep.

The Shell of Bristle -- What bristles at your edge...
A test is coming. Nothing grand, just a small moment when someone will ask too much or too little. Choose carefully which silence to break.

The Shell of Murk -- What rises from the deep...
A hidden gift, though it comes in odd wrappings. Someone once dismissed you. Their shadow shows up again, this time asking for warmth. Offer a candle--not a fire.

Rune Pulled: THURISAZ upright
The thorn, the hammer, the boundary stone. Protect what matters. Don’t leap at shadows, but do keep salt in your pocket. Speak plainly, and sleep with lavender at your window.

Messages from the Oracle are tide-bound and not legally binding. Interpret at your own risk.