A Water Mage's Beginnings

Jazara breathed deep, tightening her grip on her dagger, and submerged.

She forced her eyes open and relaxed them in order to see, using a trick that was almost second nature after a childhood spent in the water. Her heart threatened to race, and through some arcane force of will even she didn't understand, she forced it to slow. She struck out, powerful legs carrying her into the deep.

Her adversary rose to meet her out of the murky depths. She registered little save the fact that it carried a net and dagger of it's own, and that it was no human. It was scaled, small, squat, and looked like a cross between a lizard and a frog. Just like Leile had said after returning from the water, barely alive and bleeding from a stab wound. Though she tried to keep her pulse slow, Jazara found her muscles tensing in anger. At it's waist was the bag of pearls it had stolen from the other diver. Her village needed those, needed to trade them for tools and food. She hadn't hesitated before wading out into the ocean to dive and confront it. She could hold her breath longer than anybody else. Whatever this thing was, gills or lungs, she would drive it off.

She swam with frightening swiftness, and the reptilian creature did likewise, as they closed on each other with frightening speed. It grew larger and larger, and she could see it's webbed feet as it drove towards her, net trailing behind it. It wouldn't try to entangle her at this speed, and if it did it would miss. She didn't slow down.

When they met, she twisted to the side and tried to pass the amphibian, attacking it's flank with the upturned edge of her dagger, but a swipe from it's own forced her to spiral further to the side. As they shot past each other, she somersaulted in the water, turning around, kicking at the water hard enough to stop herself, and then struck out in pursuit of her foe. She closed the distance quickly as it, too, turned to close on her again, but she was already there. She saw it's orange eyes flash in anger as it extended it's weapon arm. Jazara swung against it's stiff grip, felt her dagger connect, and saw its dagger spiral away in the water. She went for the killing strike, but found her arm stopped. She blinked in surprise.

When her eyes opened again, she had been entangled. The net had closed around her body with frightening swiftness. She kicked her legs backwards, trying to free herself, but only ended up pressing herself against the net's confines. She felt webbed hands on her extended leg, pulling her towards the amphibian. She lashed out with her dagger, but felt it cut through nothing but water. She felt the air rush from her in a blurp as it struck her in the gut and wrenched her dagger out of her hand. Her lungs burned as she struggled and thrashed. It held onto her, towing her downwards. It was going to drown her. White spots swam in front of her eyes.

Somehow, one of her clawing hands found its way through a gap in the net. She felt her grasping fingers connect with something slimy, and she held on. Her lungs felt ready to burst. Even her great endurance had almost run out. Her heart hammered in her ears. Her fingers tightened on her opponent. She knew she was going to die. Her fingers sought for purchase on something, anything, a rib, an eyeball, anything she could use to make it let go, but she found nothing.

So Jazara simply pushed with some force from deep inside her.

A wave of cold radiated across her body, as if she'd just been hit by a chill underwater wind. She heard a distant crackle, distorted in the water. She felt her adversary let go, felt it stop swimming. She turned to look, and found herself staring into the lifeless eyes of her foe. Its entire body had turned blue-white, frozen solid, as if it had changed into one of those marvelous ice sculptures she had seen when traveling with her family. It did not move.

She spared only a second of thought before her lungs reminded her of how long she had been under. She freed herself from the net and clawed for the surface, black pressing in on the corner of her vision. She felt a tingle in her nose, felt her diaphragm spasm, and involuntarily felt herself inhale, but instead of the killing wave of water she expected into her lungs, her mouth tasted sweet air as her head broke the surface. She summoned the strength to tread water, breathing raggedly. She heard splashes and yells. Her limbs slowly grew leaden. Her vision faded, and she felt warm hands on her body, towing her to shore,

When she awoke, she found herself staring up at the sky, feeling sand beneath her and moisture still on her skin. A middle-aged man looked down at her, his head craned over her body, looking almost expectant. She wondered where the other divers were, and a look to either side showed her that they were standing in a wide circle, at a respectful distance. Many of them looked relieved that she was moving.

She looked back up at the man. He was dressed in a dark blue robe and clutched a staff with a brilliant emerald upon the end. He looked patient and unassuming, the type that was used to letting things come his way. His brown hair was cropped short, but even then the few gray hairs showed through. "Jazara? Jazara Palmira?" He asked in Common, inclining it's head.

"Yes..." She coughed, after summoning her command of the language. "Call me Sandy." The common-tongue nickname seemed more appropriate, earned after her first words as a child. She sat up, looking expectantly at him, too tired to summon questions.

"Well, miss Sandy," The mage suppressed a chuckle, and gestured with his staff behind him, inland, to nothing in particular. "we may very well have a place for you..."

--

Deep underwater, where the currents were cold as they played over her skin, she opened her eyes, the vivid memory faded from her mind. She looked up at the surface, rays of light piercing it and shining downwards, gradually swallowed up by the blackness that she was sinking into. The ocean was no longer a boundary to her. She had learned much. Having grown into her talents, she could breathe water as easily as she could air.

Yet still, she remembered the days when they called her Jazara instead of Miss Palmira, back when her Common was still thickly accented with her village's tongue, when she would dive so deep on a single breath that visitors would wonder how she had not died, back when she dove recklessly into the water to fight a creature who could breathe where she couldn't. Those days, like her village, were very far away now, but she remembered them fondly.

She began to ascend, kicking upwards, the hem of her loose, flowing aquamarine robe trailing behind her fluttering legs, a staff of her own held loosely at her side. As the surface grew steadily closer, she felt the warm light of the sun caress her face. Sandy smiled.