71Had she not been a Queen's-maid, Aniva would have knelt while in the presence of the Jwysimenthe nymph, as it was she bowed deference and the Jwysimenthe nymph merely looked on in acknowledgement. "I am a Queen's- maid of Her Majesty Queen Nimawhen the Fahanih [a nymphen word meaning 'gracious beauty'] High-Sovereign of the Queendom Arenev, Glade of deri- Nymphs and I bear a child for you to take if your kindred are willing."
The Jwysimenthe-nymph folded her hands before her and nodded at last, large blue eyes framed with extravagantly long silver lashes against olive- toned skin scanning Aniva's face and then dropping to the basket of babe and linen cradled within the younger nymph's arms. "I welcome you to the Glade of Jwysimenthe, sanctuary of devi-nymphs ruled by Lady Rusfid. I am Karvaka." The difference between deri-nymphs and devi-nymphs could be traced to the type of element the immortal elementals were Related to. Deri-nymphs are the more abundant line of nymphs, spawning from the ordinary elements that their lives are linked to: most kinds of trees, water, stone-types, meadow-grass, earth, and other common natural elements. They are still alarmingly attractive female creatures, but they are more human if that adjective could be used to describe them. They are more likely to lead human-type lives with varying interests and endeavors and all recognize the Glade of Arenev as their home. Devi-nymphs, however, are elementals bonded to less tame naturistic things, such as fire, ether, and select kinds of trees such as ash, hazel, and holly along with several breeds not recognized anywhere but their own Glade. These nymphs utilize their beauty and magic for seduction and whatever it pleases and benefits them to do. They are looked upon with fear and mistrust, for their powers of seduction and specialized forms of 'black magic' are strong and renowned. They will sometimes be called upon for their services and paid well, for a male of any race's personal use or for use against an enemy. They are mischievous and will sometimes use their unique allure for simple practical jokes that cause mayhem and wickedness. The difference can be defined much like Majora (deri-nymphs) and Minora (devi-nymphs) though with select differences that were twisted or changed altogether in the myths concerning nymphs we can read about today.
The devi-nymph of Jwysimenthe stepped forward to pull the cloth away from the weak babe's face and frowned. "The child hasn't been fed. Is she an orphan?"
Aniva cast her eyes down, "No. She ."
Karvaka grimaced. "Well, we haven't had a winged halfling in some time; some men prefer them and they can be useful provided she doesn't turn out ugly. She looks to be pretty enough by men's standards. Follow me to the Isla." She turned and drifted along a mossy path that wound beside tranquil, black-water pools, the muted air enough to cause heavy eyes and a sense of sensuous peace, a dangerous sort of peace that even as a deri- nymph Aniva was not entirely immune to. She admired the beautiful variety of rare trees that were not seen anywhere else; twisted trees with smooth bark but lumpy swells and curves in the branches hung with a hanging moss of soft gray-green and circles of witch hazel and onyx birch. The earth sloped down to the opposite shore, this beach composed of smooth slate-blue rocks with vivid green moss clinging softly to their slick surface. A hazy island was located just offshore, with several barges ashore on its beach, one such aquatic vessel bobbing gently on the surface of the obsidian lake on the mainland side. Karvaka called it forth and motioned for Aniva and the babe to climb in, Aniva feeling like a giraffe as she clambered into the craft in comparison to Karvaka's feline stride that had her seated languorously in the prow as the boat cut across to the island. "Does the babe have a name?" Karvaka inquired, glancing at the child's puckered face.
Aniva shook her head; afraid that to speak would bring forth further tears. The Queen's-child, the princess, and she would be given a single name without identity!
Karvaka pulled aside the cloth and gazed solemnly down at the small body. Raven's-wing hair fluffed the top of the fair-skinned head, the long black lashes fluttering open in distress to reveal two murky blue eyes that promised to clear upon growing. "Well, the last one was called Malin, so it has to begin with an 'N.' I shall call her Nadolyn," Karvaka said at last. The prow of the barge bit into the sandy shoreline of the Isla of Slaves and the nymphs with their halfling burden stepped ashore, Karvaka raising a curved horn to her full scarlet lips and blowing. A melodic sound like muted birdsong filled the air. Eleven children of varying age range arrived at a graceful walk from the interior of the small island, standing uncertainly before the devi-nymph and casting curious glances towards Aniva. Three adult women approached, their reason for remaining into maturity undiscussed. Only one of the children was male, he was a boy of about seventeen, the beautiful features speaking of nymphen blood while the pointed ears cried 'elf.' The rest were females, some orphaned nymphs taken by the devi-nymphs to raise and train and then use as bed-slaves for their clients and victims or to be sold should a good enough price be offered. Most of the females were halflings, however, their bone structure and features portraying elven, fae, and human sires, but none of them had wings. Most had been taken from nymphen mothers who had borne them by accident or had been raped, which was not uncommon. It was against Aphrodite's, the goddess whom the nymphs deferred to, will to kill a babe by abortion or even by intentionally engaging in activities that would result in a miscarriage and the unwanted babes were often given to the Jwysimenthe nymphs regardless of the fate the children were being handed into. One of the adult women, a human-nymph of about nineteen, had recently weaned a child sired by the sole male in the clan of slaves and it was to her that young Nadolyn was given to be nourished until a substitute source of fodder could be arranged. Karvaka turned to Aniva, who held the now-empty basket with damp eyes that stared soulfully after the blue-eyed, winged babe. "She'll be taken care of. I will escort you back to the barge and send you on your way to Arenev. Give Lady Rusfid's regards to Nimawhen-Queen." The nymphs departed, leaving the slaves alone on the island with the care of a new infant.
"Nadolyn, huh? Pretty, I suppose," said Fashim, the nineteen-year- old girl who now held a second baby, her first toddling at her side, one small hand clinging shyly to the young lady's long, bare leg. None of the slaves were heavily clothed, it was more convenient for the Jwysimenthe nymphs if prospective buyers or clients saw an indecent amount of honeyed skin and were aroused before they were even permitted to touch. Fashim had a shawl about her narrow waist that clung to her hips and did not fall much lower, a second length of material falling gently over her full bosom. "Lucky for me she's half fae; she'll grow like a weed and be off milk in a month. Take your child, Keth, I'm afraid I'll trip over her."
Keth, the black-haired, brown-eyed adolescent male turned an indolent grin towards Fashim, whose child he fathered. It was not exactly to his disadvantage that he was the sole permanent male inhabitant of Jwysimenthe. He had learned more about seduction and women than the most skilled nymph and it was easily within his considerable talents to seduce nearly any of Jwysimenthe's delectable and hard-won nymphs. "Come 'ere, Sithmere!" he called; lazily lounging on the sandy shore as his little black-haired brown- eyed progeny toddled over with a delighted gurgle. A wide-eyed girl with russet hair stared transfixed into Nadolyn's small face after the girl got her long-awaited first meal and was nestled in a little rollable cradle lined with soft grasses and warmed by sand from under the oven in the kitchens.
"She's cute," the girl, Nalik, said with a sad smile. "Poor thing though, look at those wings. Perhaps she'll be sold to a faery, d'you suppose?"
"Nalik!" Keth scolded, scowling at the girl, who chose to go entirely unclothed and therefore not give the devi-nymphs the satisfaction of seeing her try to keep scant strips of material in place. It was taboo to speak of the inevitable fact that each one of the girls would eventually be sold. Most of them, for though there were a few toddlers the majority of the girls were adolescent, had already been through the rigorous training of seduction and grace and other feminine qualities that would ensure they would please a man who took a fancy to them. He cradled Sithmere in his strong, tanned arms and let his head fall back to the sand, staring up into the soft mauve sky with pale gold clouds tinged with pink. He would die, simply die, if they sold Sithmere off to be some sex-toy an unscrupulous male. No, he thought fiercely, he'd not die; he'd kill. He knew he was too attached and protective over 'his' harem of females, that they all loved and trusted him and that it killed him to see them cry after a night spent with a 'client,' but he only loathed the practice of slaving all the more for this knowledge. His sharp tongue and dry wit had earned him enough lashings from his alluring female masters, but more often than not the punishment on the hungry-eyed, mocking boy ended with a passionate fling on the floor of whatever chamber had been used for the doling out of his retribution. He scorned the nymphs for the ease with which he could have them on their backs, but the more disrespectful and condescending he became the easier it was to seduce them, for they admired and lusted for him and even feared him just a little and he knew it.
Nalik shrugged her soft, round shoulders and sat cross-legged by the sleeping babe. "It's the truth," she said quietly, her voice defeated. A human male had selected the chestnut-haired girl three nights ago for her services and her wild, defiant spirit had been troubled and blue ever since. Keth's sympathies had been repelled with spitting, hissing violence the day she got back and she'd climbed the tallest tree and stayed there, covered for the first time by the garments given her when she had arrived as a six-year-old, hot-eyed and all the fiercer for the weakness displayed by her tears. Then she had slid to such a point as this: depression. Keth's eyes lit with sorrow for her. He had not blamed her for shrinking from his touch; it was times like that that he was bitterly ashamed of his entire sex, times like this that he knew if he could get his hands on a dirk he would kill everything male that came within his reach. Now he released Sithmere with quiet instructions to go to her mother and padded over to where Nalik sat, brooding and blinking more often than was necessary for truly dry eyes. Gently, with the tender care of a father, he pulled the slender, nymphen-figured girl into his arms and cradled her as gently as he had his own daughter only moments ago.
"Someday the truth will change, Nalik. I swear it." Her head turned to press her face against his unclothed shoulder so as to mask the fact that tears rolled silently down her cheeks.