Book 1 (Prophecy)-Ch. 3

Chapter 3: Selena

         Unaware of what was happening downstairs, Brian was just coming in through his bedroom window. It wasn’t that he wanted to leave Kasey, not yet anyways. Despite what she was putting him through she was still his best friend and it wouldn’t be fair to leave without at least saying goodbye. No, the escape he had just made was simply to give him some time to think things through. About 15 minutes after Kasey had left, Brian had decided the tree outside his bedroom window was close enough to climb down from. Unfortunately for him, it was a little more difficult than he had thought. After tearing his jeans and scraping his palms raw, Brian had finally made it down.

He walked down the trail leading away from the house and ended up in a spot down by the lake. The area was secluded but well lit, shaded from one side by an enormous oak tree. An instinct Brian could not describe had seemed to draw him here. It was as if he was supposed to wait for someone, and whoever it was would tell him something very important. Brian took a seat on an exposed root and slipped a worn piece of string from its place around his wrist. It had been a gift from Kasey years ago and he hadn’t taken it off for more than a minute since. The once vibrant threads had now faded almost entirely, but the knot was still as strong as the day she had made it for him. Brian tossed it in the dirt, quickly losing sight of the familiar object. What the hell am I doing? he thought, crawling on to his hands and knees and searching for it in the long grass. It’s not like this was Kasey’s idea, although he wished she hadn’t gone along with it.

“’He who has not the weakness of friendship has not the strength.’” The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, sounding at once like the roughness of tree bark and the soft sigh of wind. Brian froze where he was and slowly lifted his head. Standing in front of him was a sight he had never dreamt of being real. Sure, he had played World of Warcraft, but never had he seen something like this. The figure was mildly feminine, though Brian could only make a tentative guess. Her skin and hair was the gray-green of moss, ancient yet unwrinkled. The edges of her shape blurred as if she were made of light. Crowning her head were tree limbs, and in one hand she carried a large wooden staff, made of what Brian thought to be the same oak as the tree he had been sitting on. Oddly enough, when he glanced at the tree, it looked as if it had wilted some.

“Excuse me?”

“Joseph Joubert, a French Moralist, said that. It means that although friendship is a weakness one’s enemy could exploit, it also offers an unparalleled strength.”

“How…who…what?” Brian slowly got to his feet from his place in the grass, only to collapse heavily back onto his makeshift bench. He focused his sole efforts on breathing normally rather than talking.

“I think I know what you’re getting at, and I’m a who. The elves call me Naitra, after the tree in which I reside. I am a dryad, otherwise known as a tree nymph.” The creature took a cautious step toward Brian, gauging his reaction. To the surprise of both, he stayed composed. He couldn’t accurately describe what he was feeling other than a sense of peace had invaded his body and mind, as if this was something he was meant to do, someone he was meant to meet. “You should take better care of this, it isn’t her fault.” Naitra extended one slim arm and slipped the bracelet back onto its place on Brian’s wrist. Her touch was cool on his flushed skin.

“Thank you…Naitra.” Brian wasn’t sure what else to say; he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Despite the fantastic sight in front of him, though, Brian couldn’t help but remember he needed to be figuring out what to do with Kasey.

“‘Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn’t.’” It sounded faintly like a quote Brian had heard before. Again as if she had heard his thoughts, the nymph continued, “Erica Jong, an American author.”

“How do you know all these sayings?”

“There was a man, a wonderful man, who would come sit under my tree and read me famous poems, quotes, and proverbs from around the world. Whenever he heard a new one, he would write it in his little black journal and spend the day with me.”

“What happened to him?” Though Brian thought he knew, he had to ask.

“He got sick, very sick, and one day he didn’t come.” Brian expected Naitra to slump a little, or show some sign of her pain, but the nymph was stoic. “The last quote he read to me said, ‘Dying is a troublesome business: there is pain to be suffered, and it wrings one's heart; but death is a splendid thing –a warfare accomplished, a beginning all over again, a triumph.’”

“I’m sorry.” The words sounded horribly inadequate, but a brief, sad smile played on her lips.

“If there is one thing I’ve learned in my 3057 years in this tree, it’s that you can choose to suffer over the loss, or you can choose to enjoy the time you had with them. Besides, he showed me what gifts I should accept.” At his puzzled look, Naitra explained, “If one seeks the help or wisdom of a nymph, they must offer a gift in return. The gifts I accept are quotes, sayings, and the like.” The nymph suddenly cocked her head to the side as if she were listening for something. “My cousin is coming, we haven’t much time.” Naitra’s manner had become urgent and agitated as she grabbed Brian’s sleeve and ripped it apart.

         “Hey now!” he protested but he was no match for her hidden strength. Before he knew what was happening, she had blindfolded him with his sleeve and sat next to him on the root.

         “Naitra, is that really necessary?” The voice came from the direction of the lake, smooth as silk and just as sultry. Unable to see, Brian strained his ears to pick up every sound.

         “We wouldn’t want the lad to be tempted by his teenage desires, Argyra.” A note of contempt had dripped into Naitra’s breezy voice. Brian was surprised to find that he didn’t flinch at her closeness.

         “Oh Naitra, you’re never going to forgive me for leaving Selemnus are you?” The voice had come closer. “That was centuries ago!” If Brian had been able to see, he would have found his teenage desires more than aroused. The speaker was a water nymph, more specifically a very famous water nymph. Her luscious black hair hung in curls, partially covering her exposed breasts. Her skin was a creamy blend of blues, whites, and greens like the waters she traveled in. Ribbons of seaweed hung from a sparkling gold belt to cover Argyra’s lower half, much like a hula skirt. “‘One can be a soldier without dying, and a lover without sighing.’ Was not Sir Edwin correct when he wrote that, oh cousin of mine?” With a sigh that befitted an actress recounting years of pity, she continued, “You spend entirely too much time with your head in the books of men. Indeed, there are more pleasurable places to put it.” Brian blushed crimson at the insinuation, but Naitra seemed not to notice.

         “What do you want, Cousin?”

         “I only wanted a look at our new hero.” She leaned down to whisper in Brian’s ear, “You look even better than you did in the Seer’s dreams.” At this, Brian did flinch. On the surface her tone was flirtatious, but Brian could sense an insatiable hunger behind her words, something very sinister. With a flick of her finger the blindfold was thrown off, giving Brian quite a view of her sashaying hips as she walked into the water and was gone.

         “She—”

         “Was not a she Brian.” Naitra got up with a heavy sigh, leaning against the trunk of her tree.

         “Uh, hate to disagree, but from what I saw…”

         “Nymphs are neither male nor female, we are both; although we can shift more to one side then the other to make our human companions more comfortable. Argyra chooses…well you saw her.”

         “Yes, I did.” His thoughts filled with the brief images he had seen, the raven-colored tresses and the luscious feminine curves…

         “Brian focus.” The receding blush from earlier reddened with a vengeance at the rebuff.

         “Why did she come?”

         “Like Argyra said, she came to get a look at our new hero. Argyra is a gossip. Like the waves she floats in, the words drift into her ears and back out of her mouth. Now all Downworlders will be on the watch for you. Listen, can you hear the whisper on the breeze, the giggles from the flowers. Forests have their own way of spreading gossip.”

         “Whoa, whoa, wait!” Brian put his fingers to his temples in a futile attempt to suppress the oncoming headache. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m nobody’s hero. And what are ‘Downworlders’? I need answers.”

         “You mean to tell me that Liam and Clare Murray haven’t told you anything? Time is too short for you to just be finding out who you are!”

         “What are you talking about? I’m 16! I’m not supposed to know who I am. What’s going on?”

         “Hush.” Naitra held up a finger, cocking her head to the side as if to listen. “Evil is just around the corner, you must go. But leave with this: ‘There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the root.’” With those parting words, the tree nymph grasped Brian’s shoulder and shoved him back up the path from which he came. She pushed him so hard he half flew up the trail, landing on muddy knees and raw palms. Brian looked back over his shoulder, but he had only a fleeting view of Naitra melding back into her tree before the branches wove together in an impenetrable wall. More confused than when he had come, Brian made his way back to the house feeling like any thread of reality he had was slowly unraveling, leaving him to face a suddenly unforeseeable future.