B2 – Chapter 45: Negotiating with a Nymph

The essence surged out from him and into the spiraling runes of Elvish text, filling it up completely. There was a tremendous crashing noise all around Tristan that forced him to grit his teeth – as if thousands of glass vials were smashed on the floor. All of reality blurred around him before a shockwave rippled out; centered on the rock and extending out to the horizon.

All around him, the pools expanded into enormous lakes, grottos with sparkling water of the various vibrant hues, waterfalls burst forth from rocky escarpments that sprouted up from the scattered rocks and boulders amid the expansive waters. The stone he was standing upon shot up into the sky, expanding in width and fragmenting into various terraces that were filled with bubbling hot or cool, exuding-icy-mist pools that cascaded down into the lake below.

And then the noise stopped, reality ceased its warbling, and he heard enchanting singing. Not enchantment spells, but singing that utterly captivated him. The singing was in Elvish, and was hauntingly beautiful.

“Oi kuutamolla eksynyt matkustaja, (O traveler lost in moonlit glade,)

Tule lepäämään sinne, missä hopeiset vedet kahlaavat. (Come rest where silver waters wade.)

Äänemme kulkevat vapisevien puiden läpi, (Our voices weave through trembling trees,)

Unelmien laulu tuulessa. (A song of dreams upon the breeze.)

Kädet harsoiset ja silmät kirkkaat, (Gossamer hands and eyes so bright,)

Tanssimme tähtiyössä. (We dance within the starry night.)

Yksi katse, yksi askel – ei haittaa, ei kipua, (One glance, one step—no harm, no pain,)

Jää vain, etkä enää koskaan lähde. (Just stay and never leave again.)

Aamu unohtuu, maailma jatkuu, (The dawn forgets, the world moves on,)

Mutta täällä kanssamme, sinä olet laulumme. (But here with us, you’ll be our song.)”

“Hello!” Tristan shouted out, trying to find the source of the singing, looking around in all different directions.

The Matriarch landed on the outcropping and cleared her throat, roaring out, “Lord Tristan Winterbloom demands your attention!”

Tristan glanced at her as the singing suddenly stopped, “I don’t demand their attention.”

“Trust me, Tristan,” she whispered. “They are vain creatures, very neurotic.”

The lakes and pools rippled and then broke apart, and Tristan finally saw these nymphs. They were ethereal beauties; all women who were absolutely gorgeous. Their skin coloration varied in all manner of colorations just like the different colored lakes and pools. The hair color was complementary to their skin coloration, but all of them had what appeared as gossamer threads interwoven among the damp locks.

The eyes were like shimmering opals; black and silvery unless viewed from a different angle, then flickering in their eyes like rainbows. Almost all were slender, and they laughed, sang, and moved through the water – sometimes looking like people swimming, other times seeming to have their bodies shift into various oceanic and aquatic creatures. Not a semi-permanent shift like what Felicity could do, but a flickering shift that Tristan was not sure was a trick of the eye or actual magic.

He also felt very, very bashful because they were all very much unclothed. He turned to The Matriarch, “Uhm…I don’t mean to be a prude, but they are all naked.”

She blinked a few times then laughed, “Lord Tristan, you care about that?” She shook her head, “Get used to it. Nymphs are wild and untamed, just as the surging waters they hail from. They can travel from anywhere in a body of water to another part of that same body of water. Their songs are enchanting and can transfix non-Fey Realm occupants. And they can shift into the forms of aquatic creatures at will.”

Tristan nodded and just kept his gaze on The Matriarch’s hide. “They don’t seem hostile.”

“They are capricious. They could be kind now, and turn vicious the next.”

The various voices clamored closer, and Tristan sheathed his sword, but kept all of his spells active. He turned and was thankful his armor covered his head, because he couldn’t help but blush as the absolutely gorgeous women who were gathering around the base of the rocky mount he stood upon. Some turned into small fish, swam up the waterfalls, and took up spots in the pools slightly below him. They waved, giggled, and gossiped amongst themselves in Elvish.

“I…” Tristan cleared his throat and found his voice. “I’m Tristan Winterbloom. Lord of the Fey Realm. Do you…have a leader?”

A petite nymph with rainbow hair that glistened and sparkled popped up in one of the pools below him. She was attractive as well, but there was some sense of malice in her gaze that caused Tristan to instantly evaluate her as a threat. His Lucky Instinct spell seemed to back him up on that idea, as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle upward.

“I am Thallia,” she said. Her voice was smooth, and her moderate-pitched voice rolled out like the ebb and flow of the tide, her words an elegant flow all their own. “Do you insist upon speaking in the Standard Tongue?”

Tristan nodded, “I know Elvish and can speak it well, but I am more comfortable with this language.”

She crossed her arms over her bosom and the water below her lifted her out of the pool on a geyser, until she was at an equal height to him. She raised an eyebrow, “Let me see you.”

I suppose there’s no harm in that, Tristan thought as he stopped fueling his armor and it receded. This resulted in a lurid smile from Thallia. “Happy?” Tristan asked.

“I’d rather see more of you, but I understand given your heavy red blush that you may not be comfortable with that.” She bowed slightly, then stood up. “So…you are the heir of Zeltana’s legacy.”

Tristan nodded, “That is correct.”

Thallia glanced past him to The Matriarch, “And I trust that you’re no different, eh Big M?”

The Matriarch let out a huff, “I’ve told you not to refer to me like that.”

Thallia waved the comment away like chaff on the breeze, “I shall call you what I wish. You may protect the Realm, but you do not hold sway over it.” She settled her gaze on Tristan again and smiled devilishly, “Unlike this one here. He is handsome.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Tristan cleared his throat, “Sorry to interrupt, but was there anything I needed to solve since your portion of the Fey Realm was sealed? Any Incursions? Things I need to worry about fighting?”

Thallia put a hand over her bosom, as if flattered, “Ah, you called it my portion of the Fey Realm. Such a flatterer.” She looked him up and down once more, and licked her lips. “You seek to reintegrate us as subjects, I trust?”

“Yes,” Tristan replied. “I am going to be working on unsealing all of the Fey Realm, and rebuilding it.”

“You will need to convince me,” Thallia replied. “And there are a few ways to do that. The first is to elevate me in position. Restore the Fey Court.”