A young boy leaned over the water’s edge and was startled by the rustling of branches overhead. Before him lay the Flooded Forest, a dense wood that protruded from waters of varying depths. As he looked out, he could see the water glide around the trunks of trees that shot up into the sky, shrouding the light of the moon.
“Prince Bastian!”
The booming voice pierced the quiet night and turned the boy’s attention away from the forest.
“Come along, lad. Away from the water.”
Bastian did as he was told and retreated to the man’s side. He was an older fellow with grey in his beard but still strong enough to watch over the prince on their journey. He had been charged to look after Bastian and see to his education, both in academics and as a warrior.
“Does the Flooded Forest frighten you, Sir Amos?” asked Bastian, sitting next to the fire at their camp.
“No,” said Amos. “But a lack of fear does not excuse the disregard of caution.” Always another lesson. Bastian feigned interest, but kept his eyes locked on the forest. Amos realized he had yet again turned casual conversation into a lecture.
“Have I ever told you how this forest came to be flooded?” Amos asked, taking note of Bastian’s insatiable interest.
“Has it not always been this way?” asked Bastian with sudden attentiveness.
“Not always,” Amos replied. “Long ago, the forest was just as any other. The ground was dry, and the trees thrived. The only water was a river that flowed through the forest’s center. Back when they roamed free, the forest was a haven for nymphs of all kinds. It was home to many dryads, the tree nymphs, and one naiad of the river. The naiad was called Thessala. She was beautiful by any measure set by men or gods. Men from faraway lands traveled vast distances to get a glimpse of her and to drink from her river.
“One such man was a prince, like you, but on the verge of manhood. His name was Terrell, and each month he traveled through the forest as he ventured throughout his future kingdom. On one particular journey, he decided to experience the tale for himself. He turned off the road and came to the river.
“Thessala sat in the water on the edge of the bank. He found she was as beautiful as all the tales he’d heard. Her legs extended into the river, and the water danced around her fingers playfully. She turned at his approach and gave a slight bow of her head.
“‘Hello, my prince,’ she said with a cunning kindness.
“‘You know me?’
“‘Certainly,’ she replied. ‘It is wise to be informed of those who rule. I am Thessala, the naiad of this river. Come and drink.’
“She stretched out her hand to welcome him to the water. The prince cautiously followed her beckoning. He knelt at the water’s edge and cupped his hands beneath the surface. As he lifted the water to his lips, he saw someone peering from the trees across the river.
“‘Who is that?’ he asked. Thessala whipped her head around and evoked a nasty scowl that went unnoticed by the prince.
“‘Never mind her,’ she said. “She’s merely a quaint dryad, the shyest of nymphs.’ The nymph bashfully slid further behind her tree at Thessala’s words.
“‘You there,’ called the prince, letting the water slip through his fingers. ‘What is your name? Yes, you. Come closer.’
“The dryad inched out from her hiding place and crept to the opposite shore. The river was only about ten meters wide, which allowed the two to see each other clearly. By physical standards, she did not have the beauty of Thessala, but the purity of her spirit was enticing. ‘I am called Liraeth,’ she said. Her voice sang out like a soft melody.
“‘It’s lovely to meet you, Liraeth,’ he said with a courtly bow. ‘I am Prince Terrell. Tell me. Why were you hiding?’
“‘I knew you as you approached and did not want to disturb your visit to our wood, but I could not help but to steal one look upon our royal visitor.’
“Terrell beamed at her from across the river.
“‘You have a kindness within you that has drawn me in. I find myself enamored. Have you been to the royal castle? I would be honored to bring you.’
“Thessala scoffed. ‘Of course she hasn’t. A royal court is no place for a dryad.’
“‘Unfortunately, she is correct,’ interjected Liraeth. ‘I am tethered to these woods, as is the life of a tree nymph.’
“‘Then I shall return to enjoy the gift of your presence,’ said the prince. ‘I make this journey once every thirty days, and each time I shall return to this river to hear your sweet voice once more.’
“‘I shall count the days, Sir Terrell,’ Liraeth said with blushed cheeks. With that, the two parted ways with eager hearts for their next visit.
“Thessala, however, was incensed. She had grown complacent amidst the praise of men, and she desired more. She wanted the prince for the extent of his power and would not tolerate this meddling dryad.
“Over the next thirty days, she used her kinship to the river to slowly stretch the breadth of the waters. She knew that if they could not communicate, then their connection would falter.
“After thirty days’ time, Terrell returned. His eyes darted across the landscape of the far bank until Liraeth emerged from the trees.
“He called to her, but she could not hear him. He could not cross the river as the other bank was the start of enemy territory and could spark unnecessary conflict. Instead, he raised his voice to shout his greeting.
“‘Hello, fair nymph!’
“‘Hello, noble prince!’ she answered.
“The volume of their exchange tempered the grace from their language, but they were so enthralled with each other that neither of them noticed. Thessala watched in poised fury as they conversed. The two parted once more with promises to meet again in thirty days. Again, Thessala widened the width of the river in the interim.
“Liraeth was already waiting on the bank of the river when the prince returned. They raised their voices again to greet each other, but the sounds were lost before they reached the other side. Desperation grew in the prince to converse with Liraeth, and he turned to Thessala, sitting in her usual place in the river.
“‘You there!’ he called out. ‘Why does the water widen each time I return?’
“‘My apologies, my prince, but I cannot say,’ Thessala said without turning her gaze from the river.
“‘Please, Thessala. Tell me why.’
“She turned towards the prince as she relented. ‘It widens because I expand it.’
“‘For what purpose?’
“‘It is simple,’ she said with a gesture across the river. ‘It is because she has asked me to.’
“‘Why would she do that?’
“‘She is distraught,’ Thessala replied. ‘She knows that since she is bound to the forest, she could never be with you, and of course, you would never relinquish your kingdom to live alongside her in the forest. Seeing you was too much for her, so she asked me to broaden the river to put an end to her suffering.’
“‘This cannot be true.’ He stood there, puzzled by the water nymph’s accusation. Looking across the river at the small figure of Liraeth, he could make no sense of the sudden barrier between them.
“‘Would you ferry a message across to her?’ he asked, knowing he could not cross himself. Thessala showed a twitch of agitation at his determination but buried it quickly beneath a graceful mask.
“‘Of course, my prince,’ she said. ‘What is it you wish to convey?’
“‘Tell her we will find a way,’ he pleaded. ‘Ask her not to give up.’
“‘As you wish.’
“With that, she disappeared beneath the surface of the water. She reappeared across the river in front of Liraeth. The two spoke for a moment. As Thessala turned to swim back, Terrell could see the figure of Liraeth drop to her knees on the shore. Thessala emerged once again at Terrell’s feet.
“‘She will not hear of it, my prince,’ she said. ‘She is steadfast in her decision.’ She paused for a moment before offering her next thought. ‘If wedding a nymph is your desire, I’d be honored to offer myself. Our union would do our people such good, and my river flows throughout your kingdom, even through the walls of your castle.’
“‘Tell her again,’ he said, ignoring her proposition.
“‘As you wish,’ she said, once more disappearing into the water. She swam back and forth carrying message after message between the two. Little did Terrell know that Thessala withheld the whole truth with each utterance. Her tongue crafted her own tale with hopes of pitting them against each other with false accusations and lies.
“The time came for Prince Terrell to depart. He looked across the river with teary eyes and waved. To his surprise, Liraeth darted to the closest tree and put her hands on it. The tree moved and swayed as if saying goodbye. He knew the nymphs could communicate through their counterparts in nature and was honored to have witnessed it.
“It was an emotionally grueling journey home for the prince. However, just outside the gates of his castle, he was struck by an idea. With this thought, he decided he would indeed return to the river to try one more time.
“After thirty days, he set out for the river once again. Upon his arrival, Thessala swam to him, assuming this time he’d come back for her. Instead, he put his hands on the tree closest to him. The leaves rustled overhead as the tree began to shift and sway.
“Liraeth immediately recognized the language of the tree nymphs and rushed to reply. Terrell was thrilled to see that his message was coherent. The moment he arrived home from his last journey, Terrell hired a nymph that dwelled near his castle to teach him the rudimentary basics of their language.
“The two professed their love for one another through a beautiful dance between the swaying trees.
“As they conversed, Thessala was enraged. Her efforts had failed, and she had been unable to snuff out the desire between the two. With a furious scream, Thessala released all the power that rested within her and sent the water rushing as far as it would travel throughout the forest.
“Prince Terrell used the tree to promise he would return for her before fleeing the waves of incoming water. Liraeth held that promise in her heart and ascended into the treetops.”
“Did the prince ever come back?” asked Bastian, transfixed by the story.
“Of course,” said Amos. “Though none know whether they found each other again. It’s merely a myth after all, but it is said that she still dwells in the trees above the waters and that each time the trees shift in the wind, it is Liraeth calling out for her lost love to return.”
“I hope they found each other,” said Bastian.
“As do I.”
Bastian thought quietly about the tale for a moment and then spoke. “I suppose I’ll have to choose a queen one day.”
“That you will.”
“Perhaps I’ll find my own dryad.”
“Nymphs are quite rare in our time,” said Amos. “But you never know what the future holds.”
“Regardless, when the time comes, I’ll follow my heart,” Bastian said. “Just like Terrell.”
Amos smiled, thankful for the boy’s aptitude. “I think that’s enough tales for one night. Time to rest. We have a long road tomorrow.”
Bastian lay down and faced the Flooded Forest. His eyes searched the darkness of the treetops. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he heard the wind gently rustle through the branches overhead. He thought it sounded like a hopeful cry.
Tyler Chimento is a writer with a love for literary and speculative fiction. His stories often center on the introspective and emotional journeys of his characters. Tyler is also a voracious reader, drawing inspiration from inspiring stories regardless of their genre. Originally from Austin, Texas, he lives in Northwest Arkansas with his wife and their three children.
Featured image by Harry Tang on Unsplash.
