Meet the Water Horse
I wrote a kelpie into my story to guard the crossing to Fiona's home. For the longest time, in my notes, he was just "the kelpie." He was bound and dangerous, but not much else. While working on his scene yesterday, I realized that wasn't enough for the level of importance this scene holds in my story.
Decades ago, the kelpie did what he always did. He lured people to the water's edge at the crossing and pulled them under, drowning them in the murky coastal swamp.
When Fiona moved into her willow, she found him there and did what she always does. She offered a deal. She would use her powers as Warden of Greywick Fen Partings to bestow a name of his own on him if he would give up drowning people.
Now, the kelpie had never had a name. He always just was. This offer intrigued him. Not only did he accept, but he also offered to be her guardian.
I really don't like to think of him as tame; rather, he chose what he wanted. I feel his name changed his nature. It gave him a sense of pride and humor.
The form he used to lure the unsuspecting, the beautiful black horse with a flowing mane and tail, has been retired. He has abandoned those trappings in favor of his true appearance. He is still horse-shaped, but blue-green like deep, clear water. Seaweed forms his mane and tail. His eyes shift color the way light moves through a lake. He smells of damp and waterweed with the tang of ozone underneath.
Although the hunger to drown people is gone, he still likes toying with the idea in the back of his mind. He'll snap his teeth and needle a nervous party crossing the fen to see them flinch. I decided that at least half of the town had made the crossing to see the marsh woman. Kids have a coming-of-age ritual that involves making the trip to the marsh and confronting the dreaded Water Horse. Mara takes those willing out to the fen. On the way there, she regales them with tales of woe brought on by this beastie. He plays along, of course, rolling his eyes, gnashing his teeth, and finally winking as the children pass so the fear doesn't stick.
He's different with Fiona. When they communicate, he presses his forehead to hers. Sometimes, she kisses the tip of his nose in fondness. He tolerates this, but is visibly embarrassed if someone else is present. That might be my favorite thing I learned about him this week.
He never tells anyone his name. That is between him and Fiona. He knows the value in a name.
I'm pretty sure the local kids brag to each other after they've made the journey. Did you have a childhood rite of passage? How did it change you and your perspective?
Currently in development. I'll post more soon!