She coughed convulsively. The water gushed out from her lungs, and she gasped for breath. Arms encircled her, holding her, supporting her, and a voice murmured into her ear from behind her. She didn't quite catch the words, but the tone was reassuring.

The tightness in her chest eased, and a soothing warmth spread through her. She recognised the sensation of being healed, and opened her eyes.

White sand stretched out before her, and the sea was a painful blue, calm and flat, little waves lapping at the shore a few steps away.

She was surprised she was alive to see it. The last thing she remembered, she was caught fast on some piece of the wreck she had been exploring. She had worked hard to free herself - fought to remove her armour, to cut herself free. She had struggled for nearly an hour until, lungs bursting, she sent a final prayer to her god.

The drowning wasn't so bad, in the end. It didn't hurt. There was just a fading, a feeling of immense weight coming over her limbs, and a dimming of her vision. Of all the ways there were to die, she never thought that she, a froglok, would drown.

Another fit of coughing gripped her, and led to her stomach emptying of the water she had swallowed, and her last meal. She lay, eyes closed once more, sucking in the air gratefully.

Once again, she felt the warmth of healing spread through her, and her breathing eased still further. Her face was wiped gently with a cloth, as she spat, and tried to clear her mouth of the taste of salt, and bile.

She opened her eyes suddenly, as she became aware she was lying across someone's lap, and that she had spewed on them. The arms around her tightened as she gasped out an apology. She raised her head, to look up at her rescuer.

She stared blankly up at the golden eyes that gazed down into her own. Half-veiled, they shone with love, and worry.

"Preeki?" she asked weakly, staring upwards at her crechemate in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Pulling you out of the water," the shaman replied, the testiness in her voice at odds with her eyes, and the gentle touch of her hands. "Of all the fool stunts, Ree..."

"It's not like I did it on purpose!" the paladin protested. She tried to sit up, setting off another fit of coughing.

"Easy... easy..." her crechemate soothed, steadying her, and supporting her until it passed.

"How did you find me?" Reedip asked, when she had recovered somewhat. Once again, she tried to sit, but was restrained by the shaman's arms.

"Just stay still for now," Preeki told her, offering her the cloth to wipe her mouth again. Reedip took it gratefully. "Do you want some fresh water to rinse your mouth with?"

"Please?" The paladin sipped from the offered flask, and spat, then drank a little to settle her stomach. She watched the face of her enigmatic crechemate. Preeki had heard her question. Whether she would answer it, or not remained to be seen. The shaman had always been reticent when asked anything directly.

"I saw you." Preeki's voice, when she finally replied, was flat. "I watched you die. About a week ago."

Reedip stifled a trite response, watching her crechemate's face. She kept her mouth closed, and listened.

"I didn't know how long it would be, but something told me to hurry." The shaman's eyes held those of her crechemate. "I came hunting for the place as soon as the vision let me go. I didn't know if I'd be able to find it or not. I thought..." Preeki's voice broke suddenly, and the veil slid the rest of the way up her eyes. "I thought I was too late when I saw you."

"Preeki..."

"Don't do this to me again, Ree," Preeki cautioned, her voice still breaking. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, with it being something I was allowed to change."

Reedip stared at her crechemate. She had never seen the shaman's outer mask of calm slip before. Seeing Preeki - ever distant and aloof - break down...

Break down over her.

She sat up shakily, and this time the shaman did not stop her, but lowered her head, and struggled to regain her aplomb. Reedip leaned forward, and caught her crechemate in an embrace.

"Thank you, Preeki," she said softly into the other's ear, and felt herself gripped hard in return. And then it was her turn to give support as the shaman broke down completely, sobbing on her shoulder.

As the paladin held the crechemate who had saved her life, she thought about what Preeki had told her. Had dared to tell her. She knew that the shaman claimed to be able to see the future. She hadn't really believed it, thinking that her crechemate was a little - well, more than a little - crazy. Hearing voices. Seeing the future. None of them believed it, in the end. Not even Arrek, who was the most accepting of them all. They loved her dearly, and worried about her, for she seemed to be apart from the rest, in a world of her own shaping. When they went their own ways, leaving the creche, and Preeki joined the Yun, her family breathed a collective sigh of relief, for the Yun were renowned as mind-healers, even above the Kor.

But the Yun did not change Preeki, except to make her even more close-mouthed than before. She seemed unwilling to speak of more than simple day-to-day things, the weight of her family's disbelief in her words... in her... driving her from them.

And yet, from time to time she would seek one of them out, to deliver a cryptic warning, and she always seemed to know more than she should about everyone, and everything...

And now this.

Reedip held her, still digesting the very visible and evident truth.

She hadn't told anyone where she was going. Exploring the shipwrecks off the coast just south of the swamp wasn't a typical sort of thing for her to do. And she'd never told anyone of her interest in visiting them, although it had been in her mind for some time. Free at last from the duties of a Shin Guard, she had gone, without a word.

And Preeki hadn't been home anyway. She had been off on some task or other, far and away to Freeport.

Preeki had seen her die, in the future. A future she had raced to change.
‘...Something I was allowed to change...' were the words she had spoken. That suggested that there were things the shaman was not allowed to change, even if she wished.

Reedip swallowed.

What must it be like, she wondered suddenly, to have knowledge you could not act on? To have to watch things happen, and not be able to help, or to prevent, or anything, having to just wait, and pick up the pieces when things were over? What sort of strength would it take to bear a burden like this?

"And we haven't been helping any," she muttered, angry and ashamed of herself. How often had she been the ringleader when they teased Preeki in growing up? How often had her own condescending words ripped at the heart of the crechemate who bore so much else already?

She realised she had spoken aloud when Preeki raised her head to look at her.

The shaman's eyes searched her face, and widened when they came to rest on the paladin's own. Slowly, the shaman raised her hand to touch her crechemate's cheek.

"Ree..." she began, then shook her head. "I love you," she finished, simply.

"I'm sorry for all the times..." Reedip began, lowering her eyes in shame.

"It's alright," Preeki told her, and hugged her again. "I never imagined anyone would ever understand." The shaman smiled warmly. "That you do is a gift." Preeki released her crechemate. "Want to know what else would be a gift right now?"

"What?" Reedip blinked at the shaman.

"You getting off of me so I can wash your puke off." They grinned at each other, and Preeki shifted the paladin to the sand with surprising strength.

"You stay here. I'll clean you up in a minute." She got up, and waded into the water.

Reedip suppressed a shudder at the thought of going back in, but the shaman noticed. She returned, rinsed of the mess, and settled back down beside her crechemate.

"It will be okay," Preeki reassured her, her soft voice warm and loving. She caught up the paladin's hand, and squeezed it. "You'll be swimming down there again in no time. I'll help you conquer this. We'll do it together."

Fin