Water Riding
A/N: I do not own the Exalted universe and am making no money. The only thing I own in this story is Shiarra.
In the heart of the North a lonely manse stood surrounded by endless snow and ice and howling winds. Guarded by ever-vigilant lion dogs, it had been abandoned for a thousand years, deserted for except for those patient jade spirits. Now it hummed with power once again, harvesting the abundance of Essence generated by the pole of Air and feeding it into the ancient network of spells and wards that guarded Creation from encroachments by the Wyld. After centuries of disuse, the manse was once more inhabited.
A great deal of power was now concentrated in a single room. Close enough to the Hearthroom to take advantage of the ambient Essence, it was specially constructed and shielded--a sorcerer's workroom. And now there was once again a sorcerer within it. She wore white, a color favored by essence-weavers in every age. She had laid aside the heavy outer cloak and furs, and the white silk gown fairly glowed against her copper skin. Her hair with its shifting sunset colors had been braided out of her way, and her face was creased with concentration as she examined the boundaries of the circle inscribed in the floor.
Hieroglyphs of the Old Realm twined about the circle and were inlaid in black jade on the bars of the cage in the circle's center. The elaborate cage of mirror-polished steel was the product of months of work specifically designed for a single purpose. Satisfied that she had not made a mistake, Shiarra slid the door closed and sealed it with the wax that stood pooling above the brazier. Into the gold-flecked wax she pressed seals containing an entreaty to the Maiden of Fortune, a description of the creature she wished to call, and her own personal chop. The cage would keep what was summoned contained, without the chance to escape before Shiarra had a chance to bargain. Finally, her preparations complete, Shiarra retreated to the edge of the circle and began the invocation.
It was a long ritual, but Shiarra didn't worry about the sandglass. Doing so would only distract. Instead she concentrated on the words that would bind her Essence to the circle, the cage, and the summoned elemental.
The final words left her lips to hang in the air over the center of the room. Then a single drop of water materialized and struck the floor of the cage with a chime like a bell.
Plink...plink...plink...drop after drop, faster and faster the water pooled, contained wholly within the cage. When the rain ceased, an inch of water rippled gently. The ripples smoothed as the last drop fell, and for a moment the surface was like a sheet of mirror glass. Then the center heaved, the smooth mirror broke into a hundred jagged waves, and the head and shoulders of a child emerged.
Its dark hair was plastered to its skull and its pallid skin held a faint bluish tinge. Pondweed was draped over one naked shoulder, and its eyes bored into the sorcerer's with the knowledge of all the crimes she had ever committed.
But Shiarra's conscience was clear, and she met the water child's gaze without fear or reproach. The adversity of the past year had honed her will to adamant, and she bent that will against the elemental as the half circle on her brow blazed like a star. Furious at being called from its other duties, it was nonetheless obligated to acknowledge fealty to Heaven's chosen. It coughed once, spewing water from its mouth, and asked, "Why have you called me?"
Shiarra's petition had been as specific as possible. The plate of the Abassic Guide that Mammoth had loaned her had given her some clue how to tailor the summons, so she knew--or hoped she knew--something of this creature's nature. She arranged her features into an expression of sympathy and said, "Forgive me for interrupting your other duties. I have need of knowledge that you can provide. I promise you, it will not be an arduous task, nor will it take you long from your other duties. However, if you perform well, you may gain rewards above and beyond those which Heaven doles out so meagerly."
At the mention of "rewards," the water child's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Sorcerer's tricks," it spat contemptuously. "Why do you bother, when you have only to command?"
The sorcerer smiled and waved a hand. "That would be true," she said pleasantly, "if all I wanted was a single task grudgingly undertaken. I do not want grudging service, but an ally. If you would rather, I will release you and offer the bargain to another."
The elemental sneered but made no effort to depart. "What could you offer me?" it asked.
"A place at my side," she replied. "Favored of Heaven's Chosen. A chance to realize your own goals, with my help. My Circle has already made its mark on Creation, and your position would be an enviable one."
"You offer much, little Copper Spider," it whispered. It leaned forward, gripping the bars of the cage with long spidery fingers. "What do you want in return?"
"To ride the waters, partaking of the visions you can give."
"You could do that with only a command!" it said. "Again, why bargain?"
Shiarra smiled gently at the petulant child. "Because I may wish to ride the visions more than once. It seems only fair, to offer a return for the service of a year and a day."
Its bottomless eyes glittered eagerly. "You will help me? You would help me be warm again?"
"Tell me how, " cajoled the sorcerer. "Tell me how to make you warm."
"I want my mother," it begged. "I want to feel my mother's care, feel her arms around me. Be my mother, treat me as your son and I will guard you while the visions take you."
Inwardly Shiarra sighed with relief. The summoning had been true. Some water children had far more gruesome goals. But she did not relax yet.
"Tell me your name, little one," she commanded. "So that I may seal our bargain."
"Keman," it said, hauling itself the rest of the way out of the pool. It--no,he looked like a naked boy of perhaps eight or nine years. "My name is Keman."
The bargain struck, Essence crystallized and the air was filled with the scent of brine as Shiarra reached out to snap the wax seals. She did not flinch as Keman wound his cold arms around her neck, despite the water that seeped through her gown. She lowered her mouth to his in a cold kiss, swallowing the water he disgorged.
Her limbs grew heavy as the elemental's influence overcame her. She sank to the floor as Keman wriggled in her arms. Her ears were filled with the rushing of water and her vision dimmed. Gasping once, she slid beneath the surface of consciousness.
Over the next hours as Shiarra lay entranced Keman sat next to her, a watchful guard.