Three Word Wednesday: Kelpie

Harmless, Moist, Yelp 

Nina began her routine patrol of the Outpost relatively unconcerned. Sure, there'd been the usual threats of night ghasts and one of the newer recruits had sworn that she had seen the shimmering light of foxfire dancing across the water of the marsh, but Nina knew that for what it was: wishful thinking.  Settling her quiver against her shoulder, Nina moved further along the path, following the dull gleam of the ward set up in a ring around the Outpost.  

"It's not like we needed anyone else out here," she muttered to herself, putting her feet down carefully against the spongy ground of the marsh. "We were getting along just fine without more mouths to feed." 

  

The new Marshall's sudden decision to expand the Outpost's forces grated on those like Nina who had been there for most of their lives.  The new Marshall, for all of his raw skill and supposed brilliance didn't understand that they didn't need more people. As far as he was concerned, the expansion of the Outposts around the City meant the Outpost at the edge of Faerie must be expanded as well. 

Nina barely left any footprints in the loamy ground of the marsh as she moved along the Eastern edge of the ward, stopping every few feet to double-check the spellwork, bending slightly in order to undo a fairy circle. By the time she was rounding the Northern end of the Outpost's land, her hands were glimmering with a faint tracery of blue dust.  Nina huffed and wiped her hands off on her pants. 

"Absolute nonsense," she muttered again, moving to sit cross-legged on a fallen log that afforded her a good view of the entirety of the swamp. Pulling a piece of twine from her pocket, Nina twisted it in her hands creating intricate shapes between her fingers. Her bow lay at her side, her quiver propped at her feet. The night was moist and still, if chilly, and steam rose from the marsh to curl around Nina's feet like a contented cat. 

"Why wouldst thou discount something of such pure possibility, Child?"  

The voice came out of the very air behind Nina and she started but did not turn, one hand slipping down her leg to grasp the knife concealed in her boot.  The voice clucked once, a sound of amused disapproval, and the knife was suddenly spinning through the air to disappear into the mist. There was silence for the space of a heartbeat then the splash of the knife landing in the marsh below. 

"Wouldst thou threaten the very air, Child? Or wouldst thou turn and face me?" 

"I'd really rather keep my eyes in my face," Nina said, concentrating fiercely on the string in her hand and keeping it in motion: a twist of the fingers for a ladder, a turn of the thumbs to show a bird imprisoned in flight.  

There was a swirl of air and then the log inclined to Nina's right beneath the weight of whatever had chosen to sit there.  

"Tsk, Child. Why wouldst I come to harm thee if thy wishes and mine align?" 

"Oh?" Nina said calmly, the string in her fingers taking the shape of a broom before she pulled it apart and began again, "And what do you know of my wishes?" 

"More than thou couldst ever imagine," the voice said calmly. "They think thee a harmless fledgling, do they not? The lofty one in his tower, playing Lord of the Marsh with no true understanding."  The voice sighed and the log shifted slightly as if the figure had reclined. "He darest not utilize thee and thy true potential. He hath no true relation with the Marsh, how couldst he? Sent from afar with nay a torch to light his way..." 

"The recruits have been seeing foxfire," Nina said with a shrug, "What have you been playing at, Kelpie?"  

The voice laughed, the sound  cold and humorless. 

"Thou hast guessed my true form well enough. But come, Nina. Why dost thou turn away, playing with thy string like a lost thing?"  

"I am a lost thing," she said lightly. The string between her fingers flashed a bright orange briefly, casting deep shadows across Nina's face before dying as quickly as it had come. "If you know so much about my wishes, you should know that, too." 

"Thy wits are as quick as thy fingers," the voice said approvingly, "But come, Child. Thou hast played the dutiful soldier long enough. Reclaim thy heritage." 

"No, thank you," Nina said. The string curled to form the face of a cat then shifted again, a complicated weaving that spanned both of Nina's hands.  The voice hissed and the marsh beneath them roiled in answer. 

"Thou wouldst deny me? Thou wouldst deny thyself?" The log surged beneath her as the Kelpie stood, the marsh mist swirling around its legs. Nina raised an eyebrow but did not look up. 

"I swore fealty to the Marshall. You know as well as I do that oaths must be kept." 

The kelpie sat again and its voice was quiet this time as it slid across the log to press against Nina's side. 

"But thou art miserable, Child." 

Nina felt a rogue tear slip down her nose to splash against the string she was still manipulating. 

"That's not the point," she said, her voice betraying no sign of her distress. "An oath once sworn is binding." 

The kelpie stood and the sound that came from it was one Nina was not sure if she ever wanted to hear again.  

"An oath sworn is not binding if thou dost perish in thy line of duty." 

Nina forgot where she was, who she was speaking to, and looked up, meeting the kelpie's eyes for the first time since it had appeared from the mist. It was a terrible thing to behold, a fierce beauty barely contained by the shape of the horse it had donned. The eyes glimmered with their own fey, golden light and Nina yelped with surprise as she was swept onto its back, a raging roiling movement that left her gasping for air.


The marsh water closed over their heads with barely a ripple to announce their passing. 

On a log overlooking the marsh, a curl of ash traced the place where before there had been a twisted piece of twine.