A River's Tale
I would like to dedicate this to RitSuYue who agrees with me about Botan's potential as a nymph.
Sunlight gently streamed through the heavy leaves of the solid oak that overlooked the crystal river. The soft golden light reflected off the clear clean water, sparkling as if diamonds were embedded in its soft sandy bed, before finally resting on the slumbering form lying beside the calm, quiet river.
Gently some water ebbed against a bare shoulder, as if nudging the sleeping figure awake. Slowly two stunning amethyst eyes opened, squinting in the early morning light, before brightening as the figure, a water nymph, smiled cheerfully, greeting the day.
Quickly she sat up, folding her legs beneath her, and leaned forward over the river, reaching out to stroke the water. The river responded, bubbling and ebbing against her slender fingertips as a cat would its master. The smile brightened into an almost silent giggle as if the attention tickled, before a sharp intake of breath forced her attention from the water, hand freezing against the current.
The gasp had come from the top of the grassy hill on the other side of the bank, and she found herself staring into the amazed brown eyes of a man, staring down at her as if mesmerized.
Curiously she turned to observe her surroundings to see what had captivated the visitor so deeply, never once guessing she could be what he found so interesting. While she had seen her appearance in the crystal waters of her home, she was naively unaware of her beauty.
Her hair was the most amazing shade of light blue, cascading down her back like a waterfall, tangled with wildflowers that appeared to be trapped in its current. Her skin was pale but lightly tinted with the shade of blue found when the sun hit water at just the right angle. The light dress she wore was simple but alluring, meant to allow the water to touch her skin while still remaining modest. But what she liked most about her appearance were her eyes. Two pools of light amethyst, two pieces of coral in an ocean of blue. They stood out beautifully against her hair and skin and always reminded her where her river flowed.
Unable find anything out of the ordinary, the playful nymph decided he must be playing a game of some sort and returned her gaze to where he still stood atop the hill, hopping his eyes would give her a hint.
She felt her face grow hot as she met his dark brown eyes, gazing at her so intensely that she felt he was trying to read her very soul. Unable to continue meeting such an intense gaze, she took a moment to study his own appearance.
His golden blond hair was cut short, but his bangs settled nicely over his eyes. His skin was tanned light brown by the sun, so different from her own pale complexion. His clothes were a combination of dark greens and browns, obviously the camouflage of hunter. That explained the intensity of his stare; those warm brown eyes had been practiced in the art of focus and precision. She felt her blush increase as she realized he was focused on her.
Wordlessly he settled down at the top of the hill, raising his eyebrows as if asking permission to stay. Her blush retreated to a bright friendly smile as she nodded happily before returning to praising her river.
After that he returned regularly. Every day just after the sun had settled against the sky, he would sit at the top of the grassy hill and watch her splash and play in the slow water until the moon had taken its place. Then he would smile, a slow lazy turn of his lips, and nod as he turned to leave.
Occasionally he would sing, mostly songs of nature and wilderness, but the words never really reached her ears. They were not important, only the sound. His voice was rich and sweet like honey; its deep melody had the power to keep the energetic and playful nymph spellbound and still where even her beloved river had failed. But he always ended his songs too quickly, leaving her lost in the eerie silence that followed as the world waited for him to continue.
Despite such frequent interactions, his songs were the closest they'd ever come to a conversation. He appeared every day, watching her dancing and splashing when in a playful mood or simply tending to her river, and singing, his deep rich voice actually floating on the air to rest in her waiting ears. But he never ventured from the hill on the opposite bank. She could tell he'd thought about it, but he never moved.
She held no ill feelings, though. She had also considered walking up the hill, but she never strayed from her river. It was a part of her; she refused to leave it behind.
So she listened to him sing and waited with the still world for the next song to break the thick silence left in the wake.
But nature doesn't like constancy. There must be change, compromise. Because without change there is no growth, and without growth there is no life. Only death can stay the same.
Perhaps that was why the river's scent changed from fresh and clean to oily and sick. Perhaps that was why she found several men, in the dead of night, not even stars as witnesses, around a barrel of a foul smelling substance leaking into the slowly dying water.
Normally she was a kind and playful spirit. But they were hurting her river. The water felt her anger and quickly responded.
The next few moments past all at once, like scenes from a story all blurring into one.
The river boiled and shot up like a geyser, a caged animal, angry and scared.
A torch was dropped from someone's hand, landing just out of the water's reach. But it's not the liquid that burns so violently, it's the fumes.
Hot orange danced across the surface of her river, her home. An animalistic shriek pierced the night, cutting through the thick black smoke now billowing above the burning water. She didn't even realize it was her own voice.
Hot tears raced down her face as the flames danced, mocking her, teasing her. Then pain sharper than she could ever hope to describe tore through her stomach and she heard her skin and muscles tear.
Steam actually rolled lightly off the long spear embedded within her flesh as her blood hit the cold night air. The hot liquid soaked into her light clothing and coated her cool skin.
Amethyst eyes caught the slightest blur of dark green and blond. Even, from the ground where she'd fallen she could see his lips moving, but she was deaf to the world around her. It seemed all she'd ever hear falling from is lips was music.
He'd finally made it down the hill. He'd fallen at her side, fingers she was certain were warm and gentle touched her numb face and lifted her from the ground, out of her pooling blood. But it was too little too late. The river was dying and she was dying with it.
Still, she smiled. That sweet cheerful smile lit her face as the firelight cast shadows and smoldered against her eyes. Even in death she smiled.
Botan splashed and played in the rivers gentle current, not caring that her light pink kimono was sopping wet. Her powder blue hair was saturated with water, sticking to her pale neck and clinging to her wet clothes. Water droplets decorated the creamy skin of her face, shimmering like diamonds in the fading evening light. Twin pools of amethyst sparkled joyfully as the water splashed and sparkled around her, soft childlike giggles escaping her throat.
She always felt so giddy and playful in the water, like she was greeting an old friend.
"Botan." Her smile widened at her name, spoken so flat and emotionlessly. But she adored the way it fell from his lips, so similar to the way his whispered 'I love you's graced her ears. Harsh and frozen, as was everything else about him, yet spoken so carefully that they held all the warmth he couldn't share.
She paused in her play to turn to where she knew he was sitting at the top of the grassy hill on the opposite bank. Silhouetted against the setting sun, he seemed nothing more than the shadow so often used to describe him. His jet black hair was almost lost to her eyes against the fading light as well as the dark cloak that allowed him to blend into the night. But the garnet eyes that she adored reflected the red light, glowing and bloody, and could never be mistaken for a shadow.
She met those eyes without a second thought as he allowed his silence to fill the space. He didn't speak much, preferring the silence that had hidden him so often as a child. But she loved to listen to his silences which said so much more than words ever could.
Flashing him her brightest smile she nodded cheerfully, and faster than her eyes could follow he appeared at the river's edge, offering his hand to help her out.
She shivered as the cool air swept over her wet clothes. Her eyes flashed in surprise as she felt his warm cloak slide over her shoulders, their height difference not mattering much because it was so long. His eyes, as usual, were icy chips of frozen garnet, but she felt heat from his face when she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. She smiled against his mouth, knowing that was the closed he'd ever come to blushing; he had too much control for that.
She heard the river gurgle almost sadly as they walked away. But she didn't look back as she laced her fingers with his, and left the river behind.
This turned out to be much longer and drawn out than I'd intended, but I couldn't seem to find that one spot that ties everything together. As it is, I think the end is a little cluttered, but on the whole I think it turned out alright. As I've mentioned before, however, my opinion doesn't matter, so give me yours.
I realize there may be a lot of confusion caused by this story, but I'm not really sure how to clear it up. The best advice I can offer is ask if there is something you don't understand or doesn't make sense and I'll do my best to answer you.