A/N: So this is a fill for a prompt that I saw on the Free! Kink Meme forever and one crashed laptop ago. Good thing my Google-fu is strong, I guess.

I'd put off reading the other fills for the prompt since the time I initially intended to start filling it (didn't want my ideas to be influenced by anyone else's), so hopefully I'm not stepping on any toes with the direction I intend to take this.

Warning: death of a non-canon character in the opening of the prologue.

Once upon a time, an old woman sat in the shallows of the beach, languishing in how the cool water soothed her sore feet. She was idly aware of the people watching her, knowing that they whispered to each other and thought her mad. Fine by her. If they thought her a crazy old woman then they were less likely to bother her. She wanted these moments to herself, as little of her life had been.

She felt the water tug at the trails of her skirt and frowned severely. "Don't sulk," she snapped, surely startling some of the busy bodies up the beach, "It won't be very long for you so you have no reason to be upset. I am very old and I have seen most of my friends pass before me, her included. I am ready to be done with it, don't begrudge me this."

She cocked her head as if listening though only the gentle crash of the waves broke the silence. A slow, fond smile spread over her face. "Of course you are, don't be silly. This won't be forever - we are bound by fate you and I. Wait for me in Iwatobi and I will find you again." She started to laugh because she felt like it, but was cut short, gripping herself and grimacing. Suddenly the water felt too cold and the sun, which had seemed so pleasant before, too hot. "Come now, I cannot wait any longer. It's time."

There were shouts of alarm from up the beach as a large wave suddenly reared up and swallowed the old woman, dragging her with it.

The old woman for her part was oblivious to the commotion, wrapped in a cocoon of familiar warmth and gazing up at the distorted world that had always stolen her breath without ever depriving her of oxygen. He loved her far too dearly to allow such a thing while it was in His power to prevent it.

But of course even He couldn't stop the flow of time any more than she had been able to when she lost her brother or her best friend or her lover.

She watched the small bubbles of her breath climb for the surface and the last moments of her life passed in peace and privacy. The darkness of the ocean enveloped her like an embrace and that was all she knew.

The legend goes that a fisherman and his wife were out at sea together when a terrible storm hit. While both survived, their boat was destroyed and the fisherman was terribly injured. The man and his wife floated for some time on a piece of the wreckage that had been large enough to buoy them when he began claiming to hear a child's voice. The woman worried that this was sign of delirium, but feared even more that someone else, someone with a child, had been caught in the storm and needed help. Despite their own predicament, under her husband's guidance the woman paddled their make-shift raft in search of the voice.

When they reached the voice's source they met not a child, but the spirit of the water. The spirit was touched by the kindness of the couple - that even given their situation, they would seek to help another for only the slightest possibility that they could. The spirit then saved them, but more importantly He befriended them.

This was the start of Iwatobi's bond with the spirit of the water. The wise and gentle fisherman became the first Priest - the bridge between the mortal and spirit world, blessed by the spirit with great power. His brave and kind wife became the first Knight - a powerful warrior destined to stand by the Priest's side and protect them from harm. A new Priest and Knight were always born within a year of their predecessor's death and formed their pact with the spirit before the completion of their twentieth year.

Over the generations the process became more refined, favouring practicality over tradition. Schools were created to train all children who showed any inclination toward water affinity, magic or combat. Every effort was made to prepare the Priest and Knight long before they were ever chosen. After one horrible incident when a Priest had attempted to form the pact with spirit alone and had been killed, drowned likely before he had even realized what was happening, a festival was formed around the confirmation of the chosen. Everyone said that it was to thank the spirit and celebrate the prosperity of the coming year. Everyone knew it was to ensure that those dark years were never repeated.

It was inevitable that the Priests would begin traveling as the fame of Iwatobi's contract with the spirit of the water grew. For reasons of diplomacy, for reasons of trade and because the kindness of some Priests would not allow them to let others suffer drought, flood or famine while only Iwatobi prospered. The Priests' high status, great power and their ever present Knights meant that they never had need to fear harm, even when visiting areas involved in war and so such arrangements continued without problem for some time.

Then a Priest (whose Knight had died the previous month of illness) passed away while visiting a distant land. Her body, having been swept away by the sea was never found. After that point the spirit became unusually sullen. The next Priest insisted that He was still present and had not abandoned them, but He was less communicative and it was more difficult to convince Him to offer His aid. Members of the Priest's Order concluded that the spirit must have been upset by their inability to offer the previous Priest a proper burial and decreed that no Priest would be allowed to leave Iwatobi again.

Still things with the spirit did not improve and Iwatobi's neighbours were predictably unhappy about the change, leading to a degree of tension that had not been present since time out of living memory. For Iwatobi itself, as each generation passed with average weather, average success in fishing and an average number of oceanic tragedies, its people began to lose faith in the power of the spirit and began to wonder if the legends really only were just stories. They had long lost their appreciation for average.

The schooling, the festival, the selection and the maintenance of the Order continued in spite of the growing doubt and one day the Order greeted the people with Iwatobi with grand news. They had observed several good omens that they decreed to be a sign from the water spirit that the next Priest would be the one who would return them to the prosperity their history texts spoke of. The spirit had finally forgiven them for their mistake.

Many new parents visited the shrine after that, asking aloud that the spirit bless their children with good health and silently praying that their child would be chosen.

The Order maintained a careful list of each birth, determined that they identify the new Priest as soon as possible, writing down the names of children born within two years of the last Priest's death just to be certain. This meant that some families, like the Matsuokas, had two children registered to be tested for water affinity at the earliest possible age while others, like the Nanases, only had one. This caused some friction, particularly among some of the richer families in Iwatobi, who felt cheated out of an "extra chance" to have one of their progeny chosen. The Order despaired over the way that some had forgotten their reverence, but clung to the hope that this time would be different.

This is where our story begins.