A/N: Yet another drabble; most of these are. This one is about Walker meeting the Grimpond for the first time, woohoo. We all love Walker, now don't we. And I tried to make the visions the Grimpond show him similar to the ones it shows in the Shannara books - visions that have some truth in them, but not entirely, so that's why you may not get them immediately.

---

First Encounter

The waters of the Grimpond were perfectly still, as if it were just an ordinary pond, with no shade bound to it for all eternity. Or maybe that meant it wasn't an ordinary pond at all, since what kind of pond could possibly remain motionless even during a breeze?

Walker Boh narrowed his eyes. The Grimpond was there, all right.

He walked slowly to the edge of the dirt path, stopping where it dropped off into the misty depths. Any moment now.

As if in answer to his thoughts, the waters of the pond suddenly churned, spewing water into the air. Walker shielded his eyes and wondered if maybe he should have listened to Cogline and not have come. But it was too late now.

"Show me who you are," he whispered.

The water seemed to coalesce, forming into a vaguely human shape. Eventually, what stood before him was a person, hooded and cloaked.

"Why must you disrupt me, even in death?" murmured the figure. A thin hand reached out from underneath the cloak and slowly pulled the hood down.

It was his mother.

Walker found himself kneeling suddenly, tears threatening to spring out of his eyes. She had died, years ago, claimed by that terrible, wasting illness. And now she was standing here.

No.

That isn't my mother.

"I know you're the Grimpond," he said harshly, though it took more effort than he would have thought to be talking back to a shade that looked like his mother.

Risse Boh laughed. She put back her cowl so that her face was in darkness again, and this time, when it was taken off, it was Walker's own face that looked at him. "Very well," sneered the shade. "If you cannot talk to her, then perhaps you can talk to yourself."

Walker flinched, but stood up shakily nonetheless. "I can play whatever games you play. If I must battle against myself, then so be it."

"Then battle against yourself you shall. I know why you came here, son of Ohmsfords and Bohs long gone. You wish to find out more about me, me, the being that was outwitted by your ancestor long ago."

Despite the warnings from Cogline, Walker started to shudder. The Grimpond knew so much about him. Too much. "So tell me."

The Grimpond laughed again, a hollow, empty sound that echoed throughout the surrounding forest. "Try to learn some patience. It'll do you good." The words were coated in irony and sarcasm. Its eyes—Walker's eyes—narrowed. "You wish to know more about me? Very well. Behold!"

Three visions appeared, playing out in rapid succession. In the first, Walker was facing off against a tall, dark figure, fire spurting from both of their hands. They circled each other like cats, each refusing to back off. And then the taller one, in a sudden burst of speed and grace, dodged past all of Walker's defenses and enveloped him in his own fire.

In the second, Walker was all alone, surrounded by nothing but a haze of white. Sometimes he was there, and other times he had faded away, to reappear a few seconds later. It was almost as if he were in a limbo world, there but not quite.

And in the last, he stood next to a tall, fierce-looking young woman by a greenish lake. The woman had Elven features, but was still of the race of Man. She could have been an Ohmsford herself; how similar they looked. And then, without further ado, she took his shoulders and submerged him in the lake, where he did not rise again.

The visions faded, and Walker closed his eyes to steady himself. "Is that my future?" he asked, his voice sounding coarse.

"It is your future if you wish it to be so. Something of the truth appears in each of these visions, and I will leave it to you to determine which." The Grimpond was smiling now, but there was no kindness in it.

Walker was remembering the third vision. Surely he had drowned when the girl pushed him into the lake. He wasn't sure if he really wanted that to happen.

"Lies," he whispered, as the Grimpond's vacant eyes bored into his own and its laugh sounded throughout the clearing, a promise of terrible things fate would soon dictate.