Naiad:
Spirits of the lakes and rivers, creatures bound to a physical form yet coexisting with the body of water in which they reside. Timeless, exceeding the expectations of an earthly lifetime; filled with the spirit and power of natural magics, destined to maintain the balance between the old world and the new.
Birth and Life:
From the delicate leaves of the lily to the grasses of the sea, the Spirit of the Forest selects a bud to imbue with life-giving magic, a life stolen from lost wanderers who find the misfortune of coming across her deadly garden. As she encases their souls in the seeds of her garden, so her power to give life in return grows. Naiads share a special place in creation, as they embody her purifying nature. By the curse of their birth, they must repay the debt of power lost for power returned: dragging lost victims to the lake bed to restore the life of the forest. Though timeless, the naiad appears as an infant, growing rapidly to an early youth before progression slows. Most naiads transition slowly through adulthood, reaching maturity after several hundred years and a physical appearance of humanity in their forties. At this stage, a naiad will no longer continue to grow, nor perish of natural causes so long as their body of water remains intact, and the plant from which they were born continues to thrive on the souls they have captured.
Temperament:
Though each individual is unique, the fae nature of their creation leaves many naiads with the trickster traits of their land-dwelling counterparts, the fairies. Often charismatic and clever, naiads are skilled communicators and often talk their way into capturing lost travelers, tricking them into coming close enough to the water to be taken. Duality exists here too - as their soul and energies stem from human life, many naiads still experience human emotions, ranging from a desire for companionship and happiness to fear and jealousy. At the same time, the necessity to collect spirits for their survival enhances the fae side of their being, where emotions are of little consequence, and their purpose and entertainment matter more than the lives or feelings of others - leaving them the potential of near mindless frenzy if unable to consistently feed their birth plant. While nothing restricts naiads from leaving their water source, few stray far from the security of their home. Some have been known to leave their charge, to embrace the human side of their birth - but the risks are great. Without feeding the plant and the forest, their life source begins to whither and will eventually perish.
Though they may try - they cannot change what they are.
[ extra : 448/500 ]
A faint pulse of energy crept up his finger, up his arm, fading to a gentle tingle as it slithered just past his elbow, then vanished. Lynn rested on the lake bed, arms at his sides, eyes open. He stared up at the world above, strands of hair gently brushing across his face in the soft currents. The constant sound of water pressing against his eardrums, stopping vibrations in their tracks, was familiar. Calming. Gentle.
Slowly, he lifted to a seated position, his body gliding unnaturally smoothly through the water. From the light trickling down above, he watched the little red stone, set in a bronze-banded ring.
"Barbara."
The word lifted from his mouth without so much as a bubble. Somehow, the eerie sound traveled through the water just as perfectly as air. But he wasn't listening. He was watching.
Small, dotted with a few nicks and dings. The ring had seen its use. He waited, staring at the stone, for the spark of light, the pulse of energy... something to tie her to him. Ever since she'd been taken away, since he'd found the ring on the shore, he'd kept it. Waiting. Watching for her return. It was a terribly lonely thing. But now and then, every now and then... he felt a little pull. Somewhere, her magic was changing the world. Shaky hands lifted it from his finger.
"Where are you, Barbara?"
They'd meet so long ago, at the side of the lake. A young witch and a naiad, what a pair. She was different. Different from the other lost souls he'd met in the woods. When he saw her, he felt something he never had before. He was lonely. He'd reached the shore in record time, watching her casting, focusing her powers through her simple, red-stoned ring.
His fist tightened, pressing the band harshly against his palm. He missed her so much.
At first, it was simple. They were young, they were free. Her magic was growing, and his heart was overflowing. He'd had, for the first time, someone to share his joy with, someone to talk to, to laugh with, to share his piece of the world. They were the best friends the world had to offer, he was sure of it. She was magical, wonderful, brilliant. She was shy, at first. But she grew. He was by her side, on the shore, every day. They were perfect. Everything was perfect.
He'd helped her gather ingredients for spells and potions, he'd showed her his own little tricks - talking to the fish and the animals of the forest, blooming lilies, whipping the water into tiny whirlpools at the shoreline. For the first time, he'd tapped into a side of himself he didn't know he'd had. So long he'd spent living from one day to the next, gathering to sustain himself, the forest, but never stopping to look at the life outside. How brilliant was it, that Barbara wanted to be his friend? He was a monster, he'd done so much wrong... but he would never hurt her. She was different.
As his hand relaxed, the ring eased back along his finger. A perfect fit. Of course it was. Their hands were the same size, hers and his. The best of friends there ever were.
He wished she would cast again. He wished she would recite a spell and send a bit of energy from the ring, tied forever to her magic, dashing off up his arm and away, back to her - wherever she was now. He missed her so much. Some days, he wanted to toss the ring away, fling it out into the woods to be lost. He wouldn't have to look at it, to feel the distance. But he couldn't. He promised her he'd be there, waiting for her return.
Another pulse. Stronger. Eyelids fluttered. He stared at the ring, the lingering glow, the numbness that held in his arm... it was so strong. Was she closer? Was she here?
His heart began racing, and he pushed himself upward. One kick and he was at the surface, head darting to the air. He lifted the ring from the water, staring. The glow was gone, but it had lasted so long... she had to be closer. He turned, swimming for the shore where they'd first met. Was she trying to call him?
He remembered the last time he'd seen her. It was a hot afternoon - he could hardly stand to be out of the water himself. He had watched her cast something truly remarkable, though now he couldn't quite place what it was. There were so many good memories.
What he did remember were the shouts. The screams. Her parents came rushing after her, dragging her away from him. In the chaos, her ring fell, and he rushed to grab it, to chase after her, to stop them... but he couldn't. He didn't remember what they said, but he knew what it meant. They were taking her away forever. He would never see her again.
A knot twisted in his stomach as he glided to the shore, the empty shore... was she nearby? He raised himself from the water, stepping onto the muddy soil. The sun was dipping low. Crickets and frogs began to sing. He felt himself shiver. "Barbara?" he called her name, out into the dark forest.
The moment he saw her face, his heart nearly burst at the joy. "Barbara!" he cried, rushing out to meet her. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes. "I can't believe it's really you!"
Below the waves, the roots of a lily began to glow.
Lynn threw his arms around his friend, holding her close. "I've got so much to tell you, so many things to show you..." As he pulled back, his eyes sparked with a treacherous gleam. "I never got to show you who I really am." His hand wrapped tight around her wrist. "Come on, follow me." Towards the water... towards the water...
[ prompt : 1,000/1,000 ]
