Fantasy Creature Spotlight: Nymphs
By Gilbert Peppers
Copyright 2011 Gilbert Peppers
Other Fantasy Creature Spotlight stories:
Gnomes
Foxen
Nymphs
Fantasy Creature Spotlight: Nymphs
Chapter 1: The Prairie
One cold autumn afternoon, a beautiful woman sat at the edge of a pond. Her feet dangled over the edge of the water, rippling the surface in wide crisscrossing waves. She wore a sheer blue dress adorned with plants and shells from the lakebed and trimmed with bubbles. Long dark hair flowed down her back. Deep green eyes widened against the chilling breeze.
The little pond waned in the colder months, especially so close to winter, but it remained a permanent fixture in the little prairie. Long blades of grass waved frantically as the wind picked up. Snow-capped mountains to the east prevented the air from moving past and constantly kept their little grotto cool. To the west, a vast forest yawned for miles, a home for many small animals that wandered the grassland.
Scarring the land, a swatch of grey corruption spread down the foothills to the north. Its steady advance upset the people of the grotto for nothing could survive on the blistering ground. All manner of horrible monsters appeared there nightly and retreated from the rising sun. So long as the prairie remained free of the corruption, the monsters could not harm anyone, but the woman secretly feared the burning might consume the entire grotto.
That was why she called a meeting with her sisters tonight. The sun fell behind the tall mountain peak and foggy twilight fell over the prairie. Her sisters rivaled her beauty to a one, nymphs of nature’s grace and protectors of the land. They often played games together, competing to see who was best. Much of their life seemed like a competition as the struggle to survive in the little grotto grew more difficult each passing season. The spreading corruption worried them greatly.
Usually, the water nymph lived up to her nature as the sister who flowed with each new trouble and adapted to the situation. She saw no way to adapt to being overrun. Leaving the grotto meant death for them all since separation from her element would cause a nymph to wither and die. Her flowing hair rippled and undulated with her exasperation. The fish in her pond leapt up in cacophonous splashing to alert her when the first of her sisters arrived.
“Well met, Crys,” the dark skinned woman waved to her.
“And you, Sylvia,” Crys replied.
Sylvia wore the leaves of her forest as a gown, revealing much of her dark skin. Their autumnal hues blazed like fire against the brown beneath. Hair as fiery as her dress draped across her shoulders. Her greeting sounded more akin to birdsong than human language, though all nymphs understood one another. She stood proud and straight as the mighty trees she resembled. The others admired her strength of character and the firmness of her beliefs, at least more than her brashness and arrogance.
“Are we alone this night?” Sylvia asked.
“The others will come,” Crys replied. “It is unlike them to miss such a meeting.”
On cue, a flurry of snowflakes swirled around them and hardened to form a female body. Her pale skin reflected the moonlight with a luminous glow. Metallic fabric shined over her lithe form, connected with gems from underneath the mountain. Spiky silver hair completed her ensemble, giving her the appearance of some kind of stalagmite.
The small tornado carrying the snow nymph also coalesced into human shape. An air nymph rarely took physical form and this one was a bit out of practice. Her lopsided hair stuck up in the back and her semi-solid outfit looked three sizes too large. She quickly spun back into her air self and tried again. The second attempt was more successful and she appeared every bit as perky as her sisters remembered her.
“Icy and Stormy,” Crys hugged them in turn. “I’m glad you made it.”
“There is much to discuss,” Icy began quickly. “Stormy and I flew over the corruption on our way here. It has spread much farther than we thought.”
“That’s horrible,” Crys gasped.
“Ugh, gross,” Sylvia echoed. “That drab gray totally clashes with my forest.”
“It smells really bad,” Stormy complained. “Makes it hard for the birds to breathe.”
“Imagine what it would do to my lake if it reaches this far,” Crys agreed.
“It has to go,” Icy stated coldly.
“Why don’t you throw an avalanche on top of it or something?” Sylvia asked.
“It hasn’t reached my mountain yet,” Icy countered. “Why don’t you grow some vines over it? Since it is within your reach.”
“Touch that slimy thing?” Sylvia turned white in horror. “No way!”
“I can’t keep the fumes from blowing over the grotto much longer either,” Stormy offered. “We have to do something soon. All that smoke and ash is going to turn my beautiful sky grey.”
“It’s already killing my trees,” Sylvia told her. “If it keeps growing like that, all the creatures that live in my wood will be homeless.”
“But if it reaches my waters then all the animals everywhere will go thirsty and die,” Crys pointed out.
“They can drink the snow from the mountain,” Sylvia offered.
“Keep your silly animals out of my snow,” Icy snapped.
“Calm down girls,” Crys implored them.
“Who made you the boss anyway?” Icy turned on her sister.
“I’m the most level headed,” Crys explained.
“But I’m the oldest,” Icy countered.
“I’m the most beautiful,” Sylvia said. “By any standard that means I should be the boss.”
“Who says you’re the prettiest?” Stormy complained.
“Everyone,” Sylvia shrugged as if her statement was evident already.
“There are those that say my majesty trumps all,” Icy fought.
“My waters are the most pristine,” Crys added. “All the fish say so.”
“But my air keeps everything in order!” Stormy whined. “Without me, none of you could keep the corruption back!”
“Alright, clearly we need some outside vote to determine which of us is the most beautiful and therefore ought to be leader,” Crys surmised.
“An excellent idea,” Sylvia agreed, “since they will clearly vote for me.”
Icy rolled her eyes at her sister and asked, “But who will we get to decide?”
“Yeah, and it can’t just be about our bodies since I’m not as well endowed as you all,” Stormy demanded.
“Honey, you’ll never be this well endowed,” Sylvia outlined her shapely body to emphasize her point.
Stormy’s dejected pout caused her sisters to glare at Sylvia.
“What other kind of beauty is there?” Crys asked.
“Well there’s friendship,” Stormy offered. “Everyone says I’m their best friend.”
“There is also spiritual beauty,” Icy said. “Many people say my majesty is spiritually as well as physically beautiful.”
“Add to that emotional beauty,” Crys said.
The others eyed her with astonishment causing her to add, “Adaptability, caring, loving, and replenishing are all traits I have in abundance.”
“Wait, so now we need someone to decide what kind of beauty we need to be tested on in order to determine which of us will be leader?” Sylvia shook her head. “This is getting too complicated.”
“I know,” Stormy interrupted. “We’ll ask the little animals of the grotto.”
That seemed to be agreeable for everyone except Icy, whose mountain offered shelter to very few animals. Sylvia had little trouble scaring up a family of squirrels to proclaim that she possessed the greatest b
eauty in the entire grotto. Stormy found a small den of field mice to vote for her youthful exuberance. A very large fish swam to the shoreline and told everyone that Crys’s flowing nature should make her the leader. A lone goat, long in the beard, idly explained that Icy’s mountain protected everyone from the blistering heat on the other side. It added that her experience in dealing with difficult situations made her best suited to be boss.
“Perfect,” Crys sighed. “One vote for each of us again.”
“Not so,” Icy contested. “The goat voted for me twice.”
“That doesn’t count,” Sylvia said.
“Yeah, he’s one goat so he gets one vote,” Stormy joked.
The three nymphs laughed at their older sibling’s attempt to change the rules of their little game in her favor. Their competitions often led to some sneaky tactics by all. They were all good at finding creative ways to play the game. Icy was best at finding loopholes and exploiting them. Of course, Crys or Sylvia often called her on it and denied her the win. In any case, they agreed that this round was another draw.
“What we need
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