There had to be some way to categorize sitting on the sidelines exhausted from the merest exertion as "helping" or "participating." Inconvenient. That was the best and only way to categorize herself. Trying to become a heroine when she considered herself built for tragedy had swiftly become the bane of Megara's existence. She was in the way more often than not, and her skills seemed entirely irrelevant to the challenges at hand. As much as helping her husband with his hero career appealed to her, and his insistence that she was also a hero was endearing, there was simply no fitting into that same mold. She'd have to find some other way to make herself useful.
As she trudged along the boundaries of Phil's island, she recognized signs of nymph activity. Chief among these were the trees twisted into strangely feminine shapes, their branches reaching toward Apollo's chariot in supplication. Megara had never been around much drayad activity, but it was no mystery who she was dealing with. She had to launch this diplomacy campaign with only time on her hands, but she didn't have to be hasty with it.
She would have to appeal to the dryads and convince them that somehow, a mortal girl like her could help them in ways they could not help themselves.
If it were up to Megara, there'd be a broader category of heroism that included someone who could do no more than chat with an enemy until they fell in line with one's will or who could sing like a siren without the after-effects.
Perhaps if she were just clever enough, she'd clear that space for herself.
There didn't seem to be all that much time to catch up with Hercules, though. He'd been created to embody the concept of heroism, so of course, he took to training like a mule to a mountain. Somehow, he even seemed to enjoy it. He was having the time of his life while Megara felt more and more ridiculous.
There was no way around feeling like a perfume jar covered in mud. She was covered in mud.
As far as Hercules knew, she had no complaints. Why should she bother him with her misery? He worried enough already.
She trudged across the pitiful landscape of Phil's island, glaring at every suspicious rustle of a bush.
If there were some undeclared cousin of Phil's running around just waiting to be an irritant, she was going to kick him.
Her face hit the ground.
In a distant haze of stunned confusion, she realized that she had heard the sound of a heavy thud, which was still ringing in her ears.
Now that she was planted on the grass, the second impact that rumbled through the ground shook her whole body.
Frozen and sore in the grass, Megara was too stunned from the quakes she had and hadn't registered that her mind lost contact with reason.
Hercules?
Sure, he could shake the earth like that if he wanted, but what for?
Megara tested her arms. Not moving. Too achy and tired.
At least she could still blink. Still, think…
Slowly, she forced some feeling into numb limbs and rolled onto her back. She stared up at the azure sky and wondered if Zeus had fashioned Hercules's eyes from pieces of that sky.
Gods. She'd really hit her head.
Voices. She couldn't discern the words just yet. Their meanings spilled and sloshed through her mind as if someone poured wine into a leaky vessel… but she could tell they were feminine. A collection of feminine voices in a deserted wilderness could only mean two things: Amazons or nymphs.
She was fairly certain it would be the latter, but stuff didn't make as much sense as she'd expected it to anymore.
Slowly, Megara wobbled to hands and knees. Though she felt rather pathetic, she successfully assumed the position of a half-competent one-year-old.
Nobody could see her like this. She struggled over to a tree and used it to ease herself to her feet. As her vision became less blurred, she noted the odd angular shape of the tree. It didn't look like a regular olive tree; it had… curves?
Megara yanked her hand from the tree trunk, so stunned by feeling as if she had randomly touched a stranger that she forgot to steady herself.
There she went, like a genius, careening toward the ground.
Fragrant flower petals hit her in the face and combed into her hair, driven by a breeze that held her off the ground.
Her feet left the ground. Megara stared into the strangely humanoid forest before her, dazed and constantly smacked in the face with a steady stream of flower petals.
The voices went from conversational to gales of giggles. It was as if a group of children had discovered a new toy.
Before Megara could rally her senses, she was moving through the air toward the sound of rushing water.
She tried to move her legs, but an odd stinging sensation stopped her.
If she ever got back to Hercules, she'd never let him hear the end of this.
The floral-infused breeze brought Megara to a clearing where a pack of frolicking multi-colored nymphs all seemingly embodying the playful children she'd envisioned.
A few of them had their arms outstretched, petals flowing from their fingertips.
"What are you doing all the way out here?" one of these flower nymphs asked.
"All we ever get around here are satyrs and heroes-in-training! Didn't think a girl would wander out here!"
The flower nymphs settled Megara on the edge of the lake, sitting with her legs trailing in the ripples.
"I'm here with my husband," she replied, surveying the faces all around her. They all stared back with varying degrees of interest and disdain. If Megara were more in control of her faculties, she might have already formulated a strategy. Now that she was at a disadvantage, she smiled as cordially as she could muster.
"Husband!" the nymphs repeated, and all began excitedly whispering amongst themselves. Their voices became breezes and the sounds of tumbling waters rather than speech, and Megara couldn't catch a word of it.
Their flurry of excitement made her cautious. Why would the notion of a husband be so novel to them?
She couldn't analyze them too deeply. The throbbing aches all over her body forced thoughts to shatter before they could grow too complex.
"So you aren't a maiden, then?" the nymph who asked this question had a daffodil-gold tone to her skin, and her hair conformed to that same mental image. "Girls, she outranks us."
"Are you making fun of me?" Megara's bronze tongue was dulled by her current state, but her instincts roared to take on the offensive.
"No, not at all! Not if you're married to a hero." This speaker had a lavender tinge to her skin, and Megara instantly trusted her just a cubit more than the others.
"He's the greatest!" she declared in full confidence. Why should any of them know he was in a middle gray zone of banishment?
"Oh, you're a mess!" a teal-skinned nymph observed with what looked like humor. Laughter bubbled from her like the flow of spring water from its source. "Will you tell us all about your hero if we clean you up?"
Megara weighed this exchange with what focus she could maintain. Was there some kind of catch to this? What were they after, exactly?
Regardless, she couldn't go back to Hercules like this. Logistically, the odds of reaching him were low, and even if he saw what had become of her, the guilt would consume him. He didn't need that for his afternoon.
"Fine," she mumbled.
The nymphs crowded around her, still speaking their half-human language while they brushed her face and hair with flower petals and fragrant branches. Breezes that brushed across her face perfumed her senses with healing energy. The rosy, minty lavender scent invaded her senses, whisking away the disoriented pain. She couldn't understand the nymphs' power, but she was grateful for it.' One of the girls produced a clay bowl shaped by hand and resembling a folded leaf. She poured water directly into Megara's mouth without asking if she was ready.
This water proved a capstone upon all the healing that had begun with the other methods.
Clarity drew her back to the moment.
The nymphs around her were all leaning in, eager for her half of the deal.
Megara brushed her hair back from her face. "His name is Hercules," she began, and the nymphs gasped.
"The son of Zeus!?" several of them exclaimed at once.
"You're bluffing!" accused one of them with dewy green skin.
"I am not!" Megara huffed. "He is the son of Zeus, and he's training right here on this island! I'm here to learn alongside him but lack his... talents."
The nymphs all giggled. She wouldn't have to explain that statement.
"Looks like you failed, though," the teal nymph said. "Can't even walk through the woods without getting destroyed. Poor thing."
Megara rolled her eyes. "Thanks for your concern. I'm still here to figure out what I'm capable of and how I can help everyone. I don't want to be a burden even if he can carry me. If we're in this together, I have to give him some value."
"Isn't it enough to be pretty?" an orange-tinged nymph with dark green hair asked.
"Anyone can be pretty, but I told him I wanted to accompany him to Olympus, which means I have to do something extraordinary. Every pretty girl doesn't follow her husband to live with the gods."
"No, usually you'd get left behind so he could marry a goddess," the purple nymph observed. "But what is he like? Would he leave you?"
"No!" Megara's whole body revolted at the idea. "He's too sweet, loyal, kind, and adorable, and you wouldn't even guess because you're thinking of him like some random god instead of who he is!"
Several of them put their hands up while giggling.
"You're crazy about him, huh?" asked the teal nymph.
"You'd all be crazy about him too, but he's all mine." Megara tossed her hair. "Have we talked about him enough? Will you tell me about what you did that healed me?"
"You don't have nymph powers," the teal nymph said. "But... now we know someone on this island worth seeing!" The nymphs shared glances, grins growing all the while. "And we're faster than you."
Megara's eyes widened, and she had the moment to ask, "What?" before the lot of them darted through the trees and out of sight.
All except for one, the girl with the lavender and lilac tones in her skin. "Oh, dear," the nymph said. "I think you may have said too much."
"I...?" Megara slowly rose out of the water. "This isn't my fault!"
"I think we should start at the beginning since I'm your only friend right now." The nymph stepped closer. "I'm Ianthe, the nymph of the purple tones in sunrises and sunsets, and all purple flowers. The others are a little... boy crazy. They're about to ruin your marriage."