He’d only been back to Scotland once since the shipwreck, continuously chastising himself that it hadn’t been sentimental reason, but out of curiosity. He’d wanted to see what had changed since he’d been alive. And so far all he’d come to find was their house was gone, there were contraptions he’d never seen or heard of before, and that Gaelic was practically a dead language now. In all honesty, the latter was probably the most disappointing considering how rubbish his own English was.
He contemplated turning himself corporeal for a short period of time and wandering about the city. But there was so much he didn’t know and to approach fellow Scotsmen with the same accent yet have no idea what was currently going on in Scotland in this time period? He couldn’t pass for a foreigner and it would have seemed suspicious.
Besides, that wasn’t the real reason he’d come back.
Feet silently trudging through the snow leaving no footprints behind him, he wandered through the church cemetery stopping just in front of the family plot. His father’s remains were no longer buried in his plot, Gavin could blame himself and his own resentment of the demon for that one. His mother’s grave had been left untouched, thankfully. Gavin, of course, didn’t have one, having been lost at sea unknowingly to anyone back home. He was the last remaining member of his family though, so it wouldn’t have made much difference.
It was just as well.
"Happy Yule, Mum, Da…" He mumbled in Gaelic before silently dropping to his knees between the two plots and hanging his head solemnly. An unusual chill slid up his spine despite the usual inability to recognise cold temperatures. "I’m sorry that it came to this…I love and miss you both."
If only things had been different.