《Grow Legato》 Chapter 1: Staccato Was she in the right? Nymphs were capable of surviving competently without dawdling in the ecstasies of caffeine. However, as she sauntered through the hollow corps¡¯ halls alongside her bemused colleague, she felt particularly deviant as she took a shameless swig of steamed coffee. Much to her associate¡¯s displeasure, she wore a puckish grin that lit up her pale yet pristine face, blemished by murky sacks under emerald eyes. She felt fulfilled, even if she was being forcibly torn away from the norm she had relished. ¡°Freed from loads of workload¡±¡ªher colleague pointed two long fingers towards her porcelain mug¡ª¡±and you¡¯re still pumping yourself up with coffee? Weren¡¯t you wiser than this?¡± ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation, Willo, I won¡¯t be attending tonight¡¯s dinner as a zombie,¡± the dryad retorted abruptly, swaying the beverage delightedly, which seemed to lack even an ounce of shame for her to guzzle. Willo simpered to himself at the response, stroking his bearded stubble smugly as he heeded to the dishevelled clump that was her office attire. It was concerning how accustomed he was to this. ¡°Well, the state you are in is cutting it close to a zombie in the organization department¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll change¡ª¡± ¡°On top of that, uh, caffeine doesn¡¯t stimulate you guys as much as¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s a guilty pleasure¡­¡± ¡°I knew I should¡¯ve torn it away from you ever since you started doing overtime,¡± he groaned, facepalming his tan forehead as he slumped with regret. ¡°You¡¯re gonna turn into my Pops.¡± The dryad peered at the male cheekily, the soft croaks of the last remnants of coffee being released as she removed her empty cup from her chin. ¡°Last one.¡± She beamed at Willo with a mature, childlike innocence that put into question if she possessed the slightest intention to end a tireless habit. ¡°The feeling of a stimulant makes me more focused on my work, regardless of how effective it is¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ honestly commendable how much you work; heck, you¡¯ve been at it for a few decades¡ª¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Even before the SPC was formed, you were a hard-working machine during the drawing board phases¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re most welcome,¡± the nymph crooned, the ivory sleekness of her robotic right fingertips flipping her cinnamon bangs flamboyantly. ¡°I¡¯ve watched over you for who knows how long, so by default, you should already be quite grateful to me¡ª¡± ¡°You sound more humble than you should be, and no, I will be roasting you, rest assured.¡± the male replied half-jokingly. She pouted as she heard the rough shuffling of Willo readjusting the sheening Puppet Backpack on his shoulders, the metallic weight of the strapped box urging for such a reaction. As they turned a sharp corner and were met with more lighted, winding hallways and indoor crossroads, she caught sight of his half-sullen expression and lowered her smile. ¡°I know it¡¯ll make you feel even more worried, but an apology now would be negated right after, as I don¡¯t intend to stop any time soon¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s not bad to take on lots of work; I¡¯d be lying if I said that I wasn¡¯t as much of a workaholic loonie as you are¡ª¡± ¡°True¡ª¡° ¡°Not as much as you, of course¡ª¡° ¡°I suppose so, but I must. The more I work, the quicker we progress, no?¡± the nymph would question, meeting the sympathetic gaze of the taller man, who then looked forward to collect his thoughts. ¡°Well¡±¡ªhe snapped his fingers¡ª¡±it shouldn¡¯t be strange to you that you are a wood nymph, so I feel like being cooped up in this facility is going to rot your brain. Also¡ª¡± ¡°Hmm¡ª¡± ¡°In addition to that, let¡¯s make it tropical¡ªheh, topical,¡± Willo said coolly, nudging his head towards an upcoming window that spanned endlessly across the silvery walls. ¡°After all, it¡¯s been exactly 500 years since the Nature-Nurture Fallout¡¯s resolution.¡± She knew. She knew so well. However, being caught in her self-inflicted torrent of service to the firm, concepts of time vaporized as a result of unwarranted urgency. She had grown to be efficient over the countless years, to the extent that deadlines seemed subliminal. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. 500 is a milestone she can¡¯t disregard. She may have been able to avoid attending the festivities of the previous anniversaries if she found some sudden solace in overworking, but today was different. This number felt much different. This time felt much different. This place felt much different. Akin to astral projection, she escaped from the stress-ridden stupor of her body and flashed through over 600 years of her life within seconds. As much as she relented, it all came back to her. She felt a dim tug on her cybernetic arm, causing her to flare back to life like a computer. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve grown sick of the outside world!¡± Willo would scoff playfully, pulling her towards the nearby window. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m quite traumatized by it. I may get severe muscle spasms from the mere sight of a cloud,¡± the dryad jested, squirming melodramatically at the familiar thought of nature. ¡°Worth the pain then¡ª¡± ¡°Huh?¡ª¡± ¡°Just take a look at what you missed, old timer.¡± In the empty hall, they stood in front of the illuminated pane and were hailed by the sinking splendour of the aureate sun. Beyond the glass was a vast megalopolis, with skyscrapers kissing the rich marigold of sunset and rooftop solar panels being pampered by the final rays of light before night. Honey hues seeped from the horizon, drizzling from the canopies of prolific foliage that sprung out of raised balconies and sidewalk pottery. Evening elegance dawned over the humans and nymphs of varying habitats, who socialized and capered along bustling boulevards. Orchestras of stylised, streamlined vehicles trilled, headlights shimmering in radiant shades alongside the flashing of digital stop signals. Toxic fumes were rare, a fruit of the handshake between the nature of nymphs and the nurture of humans. Utopia. With a gleam in his cocoa orbs, Willo took a gander at the awestruck sage in the dryad¡¯s eyes. With that look, he¡¯d assume she had just been introduced to the status quo that had been around for what felt like eons. Even as a species that is the epitome of nature, this cultural shock from having overtaxed herself made her shocked at the sight of the Miami she should be used to. ¡°If your brain is still under a rock, this is what joining forces has created,¡± he trumpeted proudly, subconsciously picking at his thumbnail with his teeth. ¡°As always, this is a day of celebration, especially at such a number!¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the wood nymph would simply muster, losing herself in the animated scenery splayed out in front of her. Like a performer facing a crowd, she was perplexed by the enormity of it all: the products of cooperation, the boons of creativity, and the cheers of rapture. Elements and unfathomable concepts that would have never embedded themselves in every nook and cranny of society if it weren¡¯t for the war¡¯s resolution. Better days were being seen, breathed, and fulfilled. In the whirlwind of it all, she could almost feel the familiar tingle of grit soar into her baggy eyelids and unkempt hair as the whistle of what felt like true contentment sounded in the air. She didn¡¯t feel misguided. She didn¡¯t feel adrift from anything. She felt at peace. The sight was too grandiose, and the dust flying into her eyes was too much. So she blinked. She woke back up to reality as she heard Willo come to a halt with the fluting that came from his pursed lips. ¡°Evie? Are you nodding off?¡± Willo would inquire, swiftly and softly taking the nearly-slipping mug out of her velvety yet loose hands. ¡°I don¡¯t need sleep¡ª¡± ¡°Sorry, that was a stupid question. The messy state that you are currently in is the answer in itself¡ª¡± ¡°It must be the muscle spasms surfacing,¡±¡ªEvie began walking forcibly with her left arm in his¡ª¡±I may have witnessed too many clouds.¡± Willo snickered audibly, a mischievous ¡®Dummkopf¡¯ being said during such an uproar. Evie seemed taken aback at first but gave a Cheshire cat grin soon after. ¡°Well, a hospital visit isn¡¯t on the agenda for tonight¡¯s festivities¡ª¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Exactly, you haven¡¯t seen my beautiful wife and kid in ages, so please hold your circus act ¡®til after we party the night away¡ª¡± ¡°With my pale face and a slightly red nose from all that sawdust in the workshop, you¡¯d think I was having a clown act,¡± Evie stated with a giggle, with Willo joining in. ¡°That was hard to admit.¡± ¡°Sure as hell you do, but there shall be no clowns today¡ª¡± ¡°Right¡ª¡± ¡°Today is special. 500 years after the two races agreed to fix up their mistakes and grow together,¡± Willo reminisced, smiling from cheek to cheek like a doughy-eyed child. ¡°We¡¯re all changed people. It¡¯s a new age.¡± Evie glanced at him as they descended a flight of neon stairs, giving him a whimsical look of concern as he voiced something so overly sentimental. He seemed to notice, reverting to the mindless activity of biting his fingernails with his other hand that occupied the mug out of shame. There was an air of silence, interrupted by the occasional plocking of the Puppet Backpack that weighed on Willo¡¯s back. With her robotic arm free, she lifted it towards herself; the weight of the pledge she made those years ago when she was taken to Florida was still felt. She let the aluminium joints of her fingers twirl, the cogs in her brain clicking in tune with each movement. She took notice of the grapevines that grew around the prosthetic, sprouting ample leaves around the artificial creation¡ªall wrapped together in a package that housed her vow. It was the first time she had revisited it in a long while. Perhaps she was too busy to give it much thought until now. ¡°Just¡­ make sure to take a breather sometimes,¡± Willo stated, eliciting attention from Evie. ¡°You don¡¯t need to work so hard all the time; you¡¯ve done enough.¡± Evie gave him a lopsided smile, pinching her grassy bangs as if she were guilty of some wrongdoing. ¡°I¡¯ll, uh, see,¡± Evie murmured. This sense of lawlessness and defiance she felt seemed normal to her. Simply doing what she needed to do at the moment was what she always followed, regardless of the nitpicks she¡¯d get from others. For years now, the people¡ª humans and nymphs alike¡ªaround her have been the templates for her decision-making and have helped her build the resolve to make her own choices, going as far as to commit to an oath. However, where does she draw the line? Where should she take the advice and take a leave from the workshop? A room where she¡¯s left to her own devices and thoughts. Has she done enough? Was this rogue autonomy helpful? Did she truly deserve to leave if she didn¡¯t feel accomplished? 500 years after the end of the war she helped start, the dryad assisted in inspiring change. Though, considering the mission she set herself as her droopy eyes fluttered over her metallic limb, she tried to verify something from herself that she knew she¡¯d never get an answer to: Was she finally in the right? Chapter 2: Timeless ¡°Who knows?¡± Willo would suavely hum over the ultra-modern smartphone that extended out of a burnished mannequin, which was connected to the metallic box that sat at the foot of his chair. ¡°Will scones be present at this li¡¯l checkup?¡± As gruff guffaws and mumbles ignited from the other side of the receiver, the rhythmic pitter-patter of buttons from nearby in the kitchen caught Evie¡¯s void attention. She glanced past the dining table to the kitchen¡¯s island, where she was welcomed by the foaming, translucent waterfall that was a water nymph¡¯s¡ªa naiad¡¯s¡ªshoulder-length hair. The nymph in question was fine-tuning settings on the solar microwave, with cerulean lights blinking at each press until the final one elicited an orange flare as the plate inside began spinning. ¡°I honestly can¡¯t believe we¡¯re wasting lithium battery juice on this,¡± the naiad puffed out in a bubbly tone over the meteoric chatter of Willo¡¯s call, swivelling on the birch floorboards to face the dining table. ¡°I should start showing more restraint¡ª¡± ¡°Mom, let Dad have this one for today,¡± a young teen¡¯s voice sounded reluctantly across from Evie. ¡°If he¡¯s refused this one on such an occasion, he may just develop some bizarre withdrawal symptoms¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mind this foodie¡±¡ªthe water nymph shuffled over to a cushioned seat near Evie¡ª ¡±as I¡¯ve had to deal with him for years now¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t romanticize his ludicrousness, Mom,¡± the lanky teen snorted as he swiftly sprung up from his furious scribbling with glee in his scintillating aquamarine eyes, akin to his mother¡¯s. ¡°Hey, Auntie Evie, were those some fancy words I used this time?¡± It was a cacophony. Willo bootlicking over the phone, the mewing microwave, the naiad¡¯s unconscious yet tender carolling, and the son¡¯s genetically snarky remarks¡ªa discordant mish-mash that felt just like home. Yet, due to her shutting herself off to the tempo of working, it all felt like a slap in the face, one that didn¡¯t diminish the wrinkles that creased her eyes. In this spacious apartment complex, she stared into space in remote silence. She felt like she experienced sensory overload again: a new environment, homey smells of polished veneer, and the sight of a familiarly offbeat yet jovial family. It was all comforting. Though, for a millisecond that didn¡¯t seem to exist, she forgot that time existed. She felt an eternity in all this racket and wanted this moment to persist, where she didn¡¯t have anything she was indebted to at the moment. Perhaps she was hopeless, trying to escape from the inevitable and the responsibilities she latched onto. Time, once again, felt like nothing. ¡°Evie?¡± The dryad flared to life once more¡ªmore than she had expected in a single day. She stirred at the feeling of the water nymph¡¯s palms on her cybernetic arm, caressing the greenery that cloaked it. A peppy beam graced the other nymph¡¯s beige skin. An indescribable neuron fired in Evie¡¯s brain and most likely in the other nymph¡¯s brain too. The unified, unstated empathy of nymphs; the common interconnectedness of this race regardless of habitat. The water nymph read her. ¡°I should thank Willo for forcing you to come over this time; you¡¯re exhausted as heck.¡± ¡°It¡¯s ok, Rhea. I was just thinking about things.¡± ¡°Stop thinking then, hun. Even that¡¯s looking like a tiring task.¡± Rhea teased, perking up at the celebratory beeping of the microwave. ¡°Beck, it¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get the hazmat suit,¡± the brunette teen whined sardonically as he dropped his pencil and slogged over to the microwave with bated and soon-to-be revolted breath. Rhea peered over at Willo, who was rocking his chair back and forth with the phone still glued to his ear and chewing his fingernails nonchalantly as he listened intently. She nodded at him, to which he pleasantly responded by raising two fingers and pondering before putting a finger down. Rhea gave him a thumbs up, pink tinting her cheeks before she turned back to Evie. ¡°You still look beautiful with the eye bags,¡± Rhea complimented warmly, keeping a hushed tone. ¡°That¡¯s practically unavoidable, you know,¡± Evie responded with a light, sour look. ¡°We don¡¯t change much upon growing up anyway. Plus, it¡¯s rude to shame your elder¡¯s face.¡± Rhea shrugged and chirped, ¡°No regrets, Eve.¡± Despite her weariness, Evie mustered a mellow smile that grew wider as the two women watched Beck trudge to the dining table with a hot plate of gruel-like cuisine in hand and his ballooned cheeks and neutral face covered by a large, frothy water bubble he made, like that of an astronaut¡¯s helmet. Willo acknowledged this silently and grinned like a toddler, rolling his eyes at the nauseated look of disappointment that his son also added to the attire. ¡°Your control over your water powers has improved,¡± Evie complimented in awe, clapping lightly with Rhea as the unfortunate Beck slid the plate over to the peckish Willo¡¯s side of the table. ¡°If only I could use them more productively. I feel guilty for serving a man this crap,¡± Beck gurgled grumpily, fizzy bubbles boiling to the top of his self-made helmet. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! He was clearly averse to the dish; however, there was no neuronal activation when talking to Beck. Evie presumed that if she were able to connect with the hybrid teen on such a level, she would suffocate from internal barrages of sickening feedback. ¡°Didn¡¯t you go through much worse when you helped take care of Willo?¡± Rhea asked, taking a glimpse at Evie¡¯s puzzled look at the sardines, noodles, and sausage amalgamation on the plate. ¡°Well, as a kid, I remember him asking for much more¡ª¡± ¡°Alright, see you, sir!¡± Willo exclaimed a bit too loudly, tapping the glowing red icon on the smartphone to hang up the call. ¡°Puppet, retract!¡± The Puppet¡¯s robotic arm¡ªwith an appearance similar to Evie¡¯s¡ªsheathed back into its chest, the phone disappearing into the metallic body. Then, the blank-faced mannequin sank itself back into the Puppet Backpack¡¯s entrance, the whirring of the closing sequence coming to a steel halt as the box shut, having contained the robot entirely. ¡°Who was that, dear?¡± Rhea asked curiously, lifting her palm upwards towards Willo¡¯s glass. ¡°You were sucking up more than usual¡ª¡± ¡°If buttering up pays the bills, then it¡¯s fine,¡± Beck blurted out, twitching inside his bubble as his embarrassed father stabbed some messy grub and shovelled it into his gluttonous mouth. ¡°Not something I¡¯ll tell my friends, though; I¡¯ll¡­ sugarcoat the job title¡ª¡± ¡°Like what, huh?¡± Willo murmured with squirrel cheeks, chewing like a ravenous beast as sparkling, cold water poured perfectly into his cup from Rhea¡¯s palm. ¡°Thanks, dear!¡ª¡± ¡°Shoe Quality Assurance Manager, tonguing all of your superior¡¯s boots with maximum efficiency!¡± Beck glorified, causing Rhea to giggle uncontrollably and Evie to grin cheekily at the sight of the water nymph¡¯s infectious laughter. ¡°Easy big bucks, even inspiring me to take up such a job¡ª¡± ¡°Anyways, to not admit to any of that, I should tell you that that was one of the Swiss Puppet Corps¡¯ shareholders, situated here in Florida,¡± Willo said confidently, swallowing down his food. ¡°Zamir Goldmann is his name. I¡¯ll be meeting with him in 2 days just to see if he¡¯s happy with how our Miami branch is holding up. Nothing big.¡± Evie turned to meet Willo¡¯s forward gaze. ¡°Do I need to be¡ª¡± ¡°Evie, you have a flight to India early that morning. You doofus,¡± Willo chuckled alongside Rhea, Evie noticeably rubbing an annoyed hand against her forehead at her forgetting. ¡°Remember, you¡¯ll be overseeing the Kenyan seed bomb Puppet work and seeing a land you haven¡¯t been to in almost¡­a hundred or so years? Catch some z¡¯s tomorrow here before then; that¡¯s an order.¡± Evie opened her mouth to protest but found she had more innate energy to dwell on what he had just said, simply nodding. One hundred years felt like nothing. ¡°Dad, I have school tomorrow; can we get the celebratory thingie out of the way?¡± Beck asked, yawning as he absentmindedly flipped through the pages of his notebook. ¡°Of course!¡± Willo raised his glass. ¡°Glasses up to the 500th anniversary of a resolution to a 122-year war! May humans, nymphs, and hybrids face another century of increasing prosperity!¡± Four of their water glasses tapped together. ¡°Cheers!¡±
Just like that, midnight dawned, and the ruckus died down. Once again, Evie was left with both serene silence and her thoughts. Beck had hit the hay for the night, and Willo was snoring obnoxiously on the dining table, drooling, and tossing in his chair. He uttered senseless nothings in his sleep, with Rhea fastening a silky duvet over her husband¡¯s shoulders. She ruffled his hair affectionately before she took a seat in the opposite seat from Evie. ¡°You aren¡¯t tired?¡± Rhea questioned, her curious royal blue eyes staring into Evie¡¯s, who was tapping her fingers against the shrubbery on her robotic arm. ¡°I suppose I¡¯m used to tireless nights.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a broken record, Eve,¡± the naiad joked, smirking at Evie¡¯s hefty exhale. ¡°I think it helps; in my opinion, I get more done.¡± ¡°I think you¡¯re wiser than that; it¡¯s not healthy.¡± There was some silence between them, letting the white noise of snoring, air conditioning, and the outside horns of cars pass by. ¡°What motivates you to go to work so hard anyway?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Rhea started, furrowing a brow yet chortling lightly at the dryad¡¯s confusion. ¡°It¡¯s as I said. I know it¡¯s been your job for years now, but what¡¯s your motivation?¡± Evie straightened herself, a genuine look of doubt adorning her face at the question. This was a question she knew the answer to, and Rhea and Willo most likely knew half of it. The motive had been the engine for her life those years back when she was convinced that she could piece together efforts that would compensate for over a century of the havoc she helped untether. She knew what she wanted to say, but she always feared the backlash; it was the repercussions she would shy away from. ¡°You know about my involvement in the war; my age is an obvious marker,¡± Evie answered solemnly. ¡°Everything I do now and everything I have done up until now is to make up for what I¡¯ve done.¡± Rhea glanced down at the table, nibbling her thumb and trying to compose her thoughts. The neurons kept firing for both of them. ¡°I¡¯m sure my husband has told you many times that you¡¯ve done enough. You don¡¯t have to feel like you need to overwork yourself.¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware, but I¡­ I¡¯m just devoted to it, I guess.¡± She stumbled there. Rhea¡¯s glance told her that she knew there was more deeply rooted in the drive than just the surface-level redemption that any human or nymph beyond the war¡¯s resolution wished to accomplish. What made her motivation so persistent and heavy on her? Why did it ache more for her than not only for the humans but also the nymphs she was always supposed to be in tune with? Wasn¡¯t she supposed to always be in sync with them? Is she and the nymph sitting opposite her that different? ¡°Rhea Swoboda,¡± the water nymph said bashfully. Silence ensued further. ¡°What?¡± Seconds ticked by. ¡°That¡¯s my motivation. Rhea Swoboda.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s just your name. How can that be a motivation, if I may ask?¡± Rhea eyed the plethora of family photos that ornamented the apartment¡¯s walls, a wave of sentimentality washing over her. She fiddled with her hands and peered to the side, where she was greeted with more photos, trinkets, and memories. ¡°I know I¡¯m still very young, to the point that I can count my age up to 42.¡± Evie laughed and responded wittily, ¡°I¡¯m about 500-600, give or take; I wish I had a calendar back then so I could actually eat a birthday cake that¡¯s mine¡ª¡± She paused. A certain neuron fired. Unexpectedly, for the first time in forever, Evie picked up a sense of melancholy from Rhea. She tensed. Rhea forced a smile that held curiosity behind it. Younger or older never made a difference for nymphs; it was the same throughout one¡¯s lifetime. The only notable breach in this similarity was the experiences. Evie always hated the responsibility of giving wisdom; she never liked being the example. ¡°Eve?¡± ¡°Hmm¡­?¡± ¡°This may sound so, so dumb,¡± Rhea stumbled, twiddling her thumbs as if she were asking the most damaging question that one could pronounce. Evie patted the naiad¡¯s hands with her stiff prosthetic and gave her a reassuring nod. Rhea asked earnestly, ¡°How does it feel¡­ to outlive someone?¡± Then, contrary to the tolling seconds, she felt over 600 years of living replay loudly as her eyes widened. Seconds. Minutes. Weeks. Months. Years. Decades. Centuries. Potential millennia if she was kept alive. All felt inferior in this great flow of her life. The same worries that lingered over each crumb of memory made her take time for granted. Her life. Her memories. Even the prevailing beauty¡ªsupernatural and unchanging¡ªamongst every nymph that ever lived All these things are timeless. Chapter 3: Outlast The dryad remembered when she outlasted the war for too long. It made her soles throb, remembering her bleeding blisters burning against the coarse dirt as she clambered away from the aftermath of her contributions. Her frigid sweat couldn¡¯t dissolve the crimson coat that spread past her besmirched hands; she felt tainted, and the salty tears she furiously wept didn¡¯t cleanse her. The rain of ichor from the scorched nub that was her right arm continued. The war ended, but even if the peacemaking signals fired in her brain, she couldn¡¯t unearth any harmony within herself. Apart from death, the fallout that consumed her and her kind was a precedent for how divergent they truly were from a close-knit, homogenous collective. Differences existed; she sensed she was one of the vanguards in displaying them. She recalled the fury of knowing that in some cases, like hers, the sinners never met their hamartia. Worse, she despised her reluctance to take her own life and pay for her defiance of nature. How dare she weep? How dare she run? How dare she stay alive? Not wanting to answer the complexities of her regrets, she had found herself binding to a soulless tree in a gunmetal expanse, reconciling with the simplicity that being a nymph entailed before the fallout. She wondered back then if removing herself from a soon-to-be-reformed world would protect it from the perils of her malevolent free will. She prayed that, for an indiscriminate duration, she would be nothing more than a tree spirit. Her wrongs would be righted if the devilish prayers preached by the likes of her were ever answered. She stayed in spiritual stillness for endless years and became aware of the true meaning of being timeless. ¡°I¡¯m super sorry if it was an off-putting question, Eve.¡± Rhea stammered, flapping her hands in front of her out of embarrassment. It had only been a few seconds since she asked. It was frightening how fast her memories hit her. She loosened, but only slightly. ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. My earnest apologies¡­ for my confusion.¡± Evie carefully twirled the vine strands that hung from her bangs. ¡°It¡¯s as expected, to be frank: it feels bad.¡± ¡°Of course, yeah. Yeah.¡± They allowed silence to take over again and let the quiet neurons blast further. Rhea read Evie¡¯s instability quickly, but the dryad was left stumped by the sudden sense of warmth that drizzled on the naiad¡¯s initial low spirits. ¡°I love both of them,¡± Rhea stated, the dryad giving her an attentive look. Evie didn¡¯t take long to connect the dots; she abhorred the poignant relatability. ¡°Yes, you¡¯ll outlive them.¡± ¡°I know. I know I¡¯m still young, but¡­ it¡¯s still horrifying to think about, y¡¯know?¡± Evie could resonate with the tenseness as she watched the other nymph clutch the table tighter, eyes directed at her dozing husband. ¡°I hate knowing that I will live longer than my love¡± ¡ªshe softly coddled Willo¡¯s sleeping hand¡ª¡±and probably see my son grow older than I¡¯d expect.¡± The dryad¡¯s expression grew glassy; despite her endurance and sturdiness over countless years, she appeared as if she could shatter at any moment, like the lamenting naiad that sat near her. They were both nymphs; however, the space of time that Evie used to keep away from the reaches of society and both superior races was dedicated to her work aptitude. She spent untold time away from a family she had grown up with for so long, walking through the generational passage of time. Surprised at the quickness, she felt oddly at home, still closer to these people than she had thought. Then, as the naiad¡¯s other hand graced her robotic one, she could sense that Rhea noticed her stiff posture slackening. ¡°Rhea¡­ I¡ª¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I¡¯m throwing this all at you out of the blue¡ªyou¡¯re always busy¡­ so this always sits on my mind, y¡¯know.¡± Evie was shaken for a bit. She always knew that nymphs were connected, both in conversation and action. There was a supernatural order that compelled balanced and fair speech; this didn¡¯t exist with Rhea¡¯s interruption. The wood nymph realized that as much as she liked to con herself into thinking she was doing right, she felt behind. As she watched Rhea fidget shakenly in grief, Evie got hit with the realization of how much breaking such an order evoked the most passion out of someone. ¡°I¡¯m not sure¡­ but I heard that humans and nymphs agreed to have peace and promised each other many things.¡± Evie caught on quickly, making swift connections after bursting out of her shock. ¡°Humans wanted nymphs to bring to the table their powers and environmental expertise,¡± Evie explained as she straightened herself to meet eye-to-eye confidently with her kind once in a while. ¡°We wanted humans to reduce their environmental degradation, a shared contribution that helps more nymphs prosper and avoid death. However, it was agreed that¡­ procreation was on the table and that the males of the human species could not only help our kind grow its numbers exponentially¡­ but¡ª¡± ¡°Yes, but my¡­ my motivations are not of that agreement,¡± Rhea whispered with strained speech, her wet cheeks becoming more evident. ¡°I married this man and had my son not because of some stupid responsibility or duty¡­ but because I love them, Eve.¡± The emerald in the dryad¡¯s low eyes dilated. The final revelation wasn¡¯t new; that wrote itself. It was more or less something else that sparked a flame that hadn¡¯t been set ablaze in a while in her wooden soul. Rhea sank into her chair and beamed passionately at her sweetheart. ¡°It pains, y¡¯know? I¡¯m trynna be optimistic¡­ I still have so much time¡­ but it¡¯s just¡ªuh¡ª¡± The muffled weeping came, and by an instinct that was beyond the basics of nymphs¡¯ unspoken empathy, Evie stood up. She had to play the big sister, a role she remembered wearing on her sleeve for almost two generations. No more unsentimentality. No more sturdiness. No more of this clown act. ¡°Rhea,¡±¡ªEvie swiftly moved out of her seat to embosom the watering nymph while she was slumped on the chair¡ª¡±you think so far ahead sometimes, you know.¡± ¡°I know, I know¡ªsorry.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to apologize¡­ I guess it¡¯s normal for you to have these thoughts.¡± They let a calm silence wash over them like the enlivening water that sloshed onto Evie¡¯s face from the naiad¡¯s hair. There was still Willo¡¯s blatant snoring and the comfortable silence of Beck¡¯s much less clamorous sleeping in another room. Everything felt right in the present. ¡°I¡­ was taken in by Willo¡¯s foster grandfather when he was nearing his 30s, if I¡¯m correct¡ª¡± ¡°Wha¡ªreally?¡± Evie laughed heartily and continued, ¡°I assisted in taking care of your hubby¡¯s foster father too, and he grew up and adopted the little goblin at the time. Almost a decade of service to the Swoboda family.¡± The dryad could practically feel Rhea¡¯s agape look, unlocking from the embrace and gently placing both hands on the naiad¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re old, Eve!¡ª¡± ¡°And the sky¡¯s blue.¡± This time, she denied the order. Though they simply laughed to themselves. ¡°Why would you say that it was a service?¡± Rhea asked, tipping her head upward to meet the dryad¡¯s quizzical gaze. ¡°You¡¯re part of the Swobodas, you alien.¡± Evie¡¯s surprise kept stockpiling, and her mind went blank. The scenery suddenly became clearer to her: the family photos with her in them, the pastel sofas, and many more things that her closed world wouldn¡¯t allow her to see. She reminisced about the times she joked, cooked edible miasmas, argued, catered, and rooted for the generations she took care of¡ªmost recently with Willo. She underwent all that joy in cadence to her mission to cleanse her dues from the war; the inclination to benefit the humans took the form of a vow etched into her right arm. That all seemed like a lie. The motivation seemed to become blurred ever since she was forced out of the comfort of her workshop by Willo. She figured it was too much exposure that made her mind go off-track from her true purpose for doing all these things¡ªa derailment that she knew her conscience would regret down the line. However, as her pale face grew roseate at Rhea¡¯s comment, she wondered if this exposure was truly evil or if this shift in the atmosphere was beneficial to her mission. This defiance of nature she built up. The deviation from rationality. Disregarding what she had become accustomed to was baffling to her, but it felt homely. The thought was too friendly. Dissonance caused her to go berserk 600 years ago. Though it was that dissonance that brought a twinkle to her eyes during this conversation. The contradiction scrambled her thoughts and irked her to the core because an answer to her worries never seemed near. She¡¯d been stuck in this confusion for what felt like an eternity¡ªa timeless downward spiral. She couldn¡¯t decipher what she was truly working for anymore. ¡°Thanks, Rhea,¡± the dryad said calmly, a mellow look on her face regardless of her innate confusion. ¡°I suppose to finally answer your question, just cherish them. I don¡¯t think¡­ there¡¯s more to add to that.¡± The neurons fired between them, and Rhea replied, ¡°Same goes for you.¡± The connection told them that they were in sync. Cherishing: the nymphs¡¯ proverb. The reminder made the dryad realize some of the true feelings that underpinned her devotion to not only the Swoboda family but to her work. She further despised her internal dilemma. What did she feel? What was real? What was right? She knew Rhea could sense the side of her that was scrambling over puzzle pieces in her mind, but Evie guessed that the other nymph assumed it was tiredness. It was half-right. She was exhausted from these thoughts but grew more restless because she wanted answers. She wouldn¡¯t turn tail and avoid consequences in a tree again after this current war; those over 300 years of stagnancy weren¡¯t going to replay. All this denial ached and throbbed in every corner of her mind. She almost longed for the days when she was still in her single digits and didn¡¯t have to think for herself or make independent choices. Then it clicked. She began blaming the one curse that had been the initial spark of all the successive uncertainty in her mind¡ªthe deceiving gift that had tapped her into uncharacteristic rage centuries ago. It was the reason for the differences¡ªthe root of the disparities. Evie didn¡¯t know the true nature of it yet, but she knew how to structure this concept: This thing is¡­ beautifully disgusting. I succumbed to it. Chapter 4: Sentience Was she in the right? Nymphs were capable of surviving decently without dawdling in the idiosyncrasies of mankind. However, as she sauntered through the hollow corpse halls alongside her callously amused allies, she felt particularly deviant as she took a shameless slug of raw bloodshed. Much to her associates¡¯ pleasure, she wore a puckish grin that darkened her pale yet pristine face, intensified by murky sacks under jaded sockets. She felt fulfilled, even if she willingly tore away from the norm she had relished. The powerful neuronal connection of nymphs spanned the entire globe. The few that wreaked desolation on this small settlement were the first to sin¡ªthe freakish anomalies to the natural order. Amongst the almost ubiquitous majority, there was harmonic discordance that never set foot in the communal nature they shared. Under the bloodless sky and dripping from their bloodied hands, for the first time, there were defects within perfection. She was only 4 years old when she began feeling, having become a berserker upon many that started to think and realize. Yet she was born into commonplace maturity that held true for nymphs immeasurable years older than her. They were always in an idyllic state that never faltered regardless of habitat: nubile figures, lustrous hair, and dulcet voices. Elemental powers beyond mortal comprehension were in their possession; outlets for nurturing their homes. No matter how young or old they were, they understood their standing in the universe¡ªa divine understanding that was shared by them all. Flawless craftsmanship made these spirits, and at such an infant age, like every other nymph, she was built in accordance with a concept¡ªan indescribable order that was just and natural. An omnipotent force and instinct that stumped all inconsistencies, only allowing for established similarity: Mother Nature. The harmonious program was etched intrinsically in every connection, the egalitarian dream as they followed the Mother¡¯s physical and mental form. The collective. Then she broke it. She witnessed other nymphs break the rules, and then suddenly, she felt an uncomfortably comfortable urge. She loved nurturing nature. The humans destroyed that. Abiding by the universal laws the nymphs knew, she shouldn¡¯t repent. They were perfect in being, and even if some of them perished due to massive climate shifts, they had to be humble and avoid indulging in the compulsions that earthly humans and animals faced. However, for some inexplicable agenda, she relented. She began thinking thoughts, feeling feelings, and becoming aware of her awareness. She found an identity: capacities, differentials, and more infinitely foreign facets and layers that promoted her sin. She racked her brain, and suddenly, she began considering¡ªheresy swelled by unstable fervour. The minority¡ªthe sinners to the natural order¡ªsuddenly clicked with her. The thudding of bewilderment across the worldwide connection quickened. It hurt. So, in the spacious complexity of this newfound world, she scowled into space in remote silence. She experienced sensory overload: a newly ruined environment, grimy smells of the deceased, and the sight of a familiarly confused yet enraged nymph minority group that shared her eyes. It was comforting at the time. As more of her enemies surfaced in her blurred vision, she embraced this rebellious feeling. Every time they screeched, she¡¯d howl louder. Every time they lunged or ran, she¡¯d carve their skin open with manifested tree branches. If her right arm wore and tore off due to immense strain, she¡¯d regrow it back in wooden form, dusted richly in spilt blood, as many times as she pleased. She ignored the increasingly wild signals in her head, which ended up causing her to outrage more in her group. Like the other nymphs around her, they wore their respective elements around themselves. Her body was dressed in vines, and each time she dealt justice, they tightened and thirsted for more. Her mind felt like it was truly working; she was doing right. She didn¡¯t want to face further reasoning. She didn¡¯t want to be asked any questions. She didn¡¯t want to be denied anything at the moment. The signals hurt. She didn¡¯t care. She sinned. Then, as the number of their deviants grew, she crouched like a barbaric beast, staring out savagely into the beautiful scenery. In this empty hall of fame she felt she was in, they stood in front of the desolated pain of the human race and were hailed by the sinking depravity of the two races. Beyond the glass of their strained eyes was nothing, a fruit of the discord between the broken nature of nymphs and the destructive nurture of humans. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Utopia? She wanted no questions, just satisfaction. In the whirlwind of it all, she felt the tingle of grit soar into her baggy eyelids and unkempt hair as the whistle of what felt like true contentment sounded in the air. She didn¡¯t feel misguided. She didn¡¯t feel adrift from anything. She felt at peace. The sight was too grandiose, and the dust flying into her eyes was too much. So she continued staring, clawed at the nub of her right arm, and regrew it to wipe at her askew eyes that saw red instead of green. She still had so much to do.
She still had lots of work set out for her. She stared absently at her robotic arm with lost yet more energetic eyes than she had the evening before. She felt the fresh air envelop her as she swept through crowds of humans and nymphs of different affinities on the bustling promenade in Miami. The green atmosphere felt snug around her, and despite not having been able to embrace it for a long while, she was still thinking and recalling the events of the previous night with Rhea. She wanted to reason with her brain. She wanted to confront and answer her questions. She didn¡¯t want to be denied the truth about her feelings. She wanted to feel at peace. ¡°You are welcome for that fine craftsmanship¡ª¡± ¡°Eh?¡± Evie quizzed Willo, propping an eyebrow up at him as they descended the loud, winding street. ¡°After I did your arm maintenance, you¡¯ve just been staring at it¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you want me to fuel your ballooning ego? Let me admire it¡ª¡± ¡°Actually, please continue. I¡¯m not gonna deny praise when I can so¡ª¡± ¡°Your snoring yesterday was louder than ever, so kudos to that¡ª¡± ¡°Woah, hold up there! If it makes you feel better, you look more alive than you did yesterday. I can confidently say that you don¡¯t look ugly anymore,¡± Willo larked, earning a sweet grin from Evie. ¡°Thank you, I slept¡­ decently? Again, since you were snoring¡ª¡± ¡°What were you and Rhea even talking about?¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Gossiping?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°About what?¡± ¡°We just went crazy on insults directed towards you¡ª¡± ¡°Really now?¡± he questioned her with a smug smirk, stroking his beard as they both watched some police officers jog down the pavement with Puppet Backpacks activated and the mannequins in full view. ¡°Sheesh, look at them bad boys. We shipped those to the brigade last week. They¡¯re definitely gonna enjoy the multitasking weapon function on them, better than the last model¡ª¡± As Willo gushed like a fascinated child, Evie turned from the Puppets back to her right arm. Even though they clearly had a destination, she still felt lost. Even if she was well rested, she still felt drained. She desperately wished to escape this loop that she felt programmed to follow: working to avoid thinking, then when she did start contemplating, she¡¯d simply go back to work because thinking always felt fuzzy. She¡¯d go back to tirelessly working tomorrow, and she¡¯d never be able to face her problems for another eternity. ¡°You ok?¡± Evie furrowed her brow as she turned towards Willo, who gave her a look of concern. Rightfully so. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°You sure? Have a lot on your mind?¡± She was about to lie again. Then she¡¯d wound up tricking herself again. Not this time. ¡°Yes. Yes, I do.¡± Willo¡¯s eyes widened. Rightfully so once more. ¡°Eh? You¡¯re not going to deny it this time?¡ª¡± ¡°Am I that obvious?¡± Evie asked in defeat, jokingly pouting like she always does. ¡°To utterly annihilate your bubble, you are readable¡ª¡± ¡°I see¡ª¡± ¡°I suppose it¡¯s like something to do with you not¡ªI dunno¡ªnot leaving your workspace!¡± Willo scolded, knocking an unfazed Evie¡¯s head a couple of times until they reached the end of a zebra crossing. ¡°Ok, I¡¯m sorry. I¡ª¡± ¡°If you have a lot on your mind, talk to me about it. We¡¯re not strangers, y¡¯know?¡± Willo interjected, garnering Evie¡¯s shocked expression as he was more serious. ¡°Stop carrying so much weight. Shocking, but it¡¯s not good.¡± Silence ensued as they neared the SPC headquarters, the daunting building coming into clearer view. ¡°That¡­ may be hard, but I promise I¡¯ll¡­ uh¡ª¡± ¡°Spill the beans real soon? 100%, no doubt. You don¡¯t need to finish that sentence. Now let¡¯s go pack your things for tomorrow.¡± Evie was taken aback for a second but realized that this was what she needed: a push. She¡¯s been stagnant in her mindset for too long; she¡¯s even taken the time she¡¯s spent in this new age for granted. She took a look at Willo¡¯s puffed-up smile and finally thought a confident thought out of her own will instead of some obligation to the mission she set for herself. Cherish. That¡¯s what she wanted to do. She wished to cherish Willo¡¯s optimism after many years of caring for generations. She wanted to cherish Rhea¡¯s bubbliness. She yearned to cherish Beck¡¯s self-confidence as a hybrid. Wants. Wants. Wants. She acknowledged how much she truly wanted beyond her life goal. She realized how truly greedy she was. I don¡¯t want to believe any of it. If these thoughts were a product of her free will that didn¡¯t mix with the mission, then she was fearful. The thought of her berserking and massacring innocents out of compulsion back in the Fallout still resonated at the front of her mind. It was her will to think differently that led her astray¡ªthe will to sin against the collective. She clutched her right arm tightly and recalled her lust for power and dominion¡ªsome demented tickle to her fancy that would help preserve the nature she loved dearly. She didn¡¯t want to succumb to sentience again. It was too late, however, and that had fueled her to forge her vow. However, adding to the pool of her worries, she questioned if she¡¯d be able to avoid depravity the next time she decided to start thinking independently. She wondered how Willo and Rhea could always feel so satisfied. Evie groaned internally. It hurt. It hurt thinking about all of this. It always felt like she was being left behind as if she were some sort of anomaly. She was out of touch with the current order of everything once more, not fitting into the zeitgeist of this era. She felt like a deviant again. In the hope that her feelings were of some status quo, she threw her biggest question into the air once more: Was she in the right? Chapter 5: Zeitgeist ¡°Hopefully,¡± Evie chimed with a business-like yet uplifting tone to a small group around her, intertwining her robotic arm with one of a Puppet that extended out of a Backpack on the ground. ¡°We¡¯ll be able to send more seed bomb models to other rural areas in Northeastern India by late Summer 2723, where we have more batches planned.¡± She received a symphony of agreements and acknowledgements from the group, who wore the same shirts and similar looks as they were either glued to the whirring Puppet on the ground or the now fully revealed forest that inhabited Evie¡¯s robotic arm due to her sleeveless top. Evie was always aware that her choice to have a prosthetic was strange since most nymphs could easily manifest another out of thin air with little to no repercussions. The dryad was cognizant of the nymphs¡¯ standing compared to humans regarding the supernatural. They were capable of countering or even overwhelming human militia and heavy artillery with ease during the Fallout. However, she remembered when she stepped back into the flow of the recovering and evergrowing world after spending decades and years in a tree¡ªback to her true roots away from a world she helped raze. She realized that even though the main goal of the race was to revitalize the global economy after the war, most nymphs stood in different states of mind. It didn''t seem like there was a collective anymore, despite the gratuitous mannerisms they all shared. Deep inside, more abstract cogs were driving for differences in even the smaller regions of what they came to understand as a ¡®personality¡¯. It couldn¡¯t be denied that distinction existed in a familiarly homogeneous pact; they weren¡¯t all the same anymore. Some strove to perform smaller remedial works in horticulture-driven settlements, and some strove to go bigger or even still question what it was they needed to do. She stepped back into this changed world years ago on Indian soil, and suddenly, with the torched stump that was her right arm in mind, she realized something: she didn¡¯t want a new arm. She felt emotions on that day of revelation: disingenuity as she remembered the lives she took, dejection from her patheticism as she fled from consequences after the war, and a pounding urge for redemption as she remembered that she was a nymph and always had to meet a standard. Mother Nature¡¯s standard for nurturing. Some nymphs who forgo limbs in war may have taken the easier way out and regrown them, unlike Evie. The fact that even this minimal margin of dissimilarity existed was a clear indicator that they had the capacity to break away from each other¡ªthe opportunity to defy the natural order. Just like she had done during the preliminary days of the fallout. Back then, when she saw no value in human life, she felt the most satisfied. ¡°The Arunachal Pradesh state has given us the green light to expand the operations in this region¡±¡ªshe gestured for the group¡¯s chattering to lower a tad¡ª¡±and monsoon season is around the corner. These are peak times, so keep up the good work. Thank you!¡± Was she even satisfied now? As the team dispersed to get back to managing the Puppets in this viridescent expanse, Evie slumped against the rich bark of a tree behind her and sat in the serenity of what felt like home. She had called more than one place home, and she wished to blame it on this weird feeling of greed that¡¯s been pricking at her like thorns. However, she couldn¡¯t help but be enamoured of the resplendent sea of rice paddies that sanctified the valley, watching humans and nymphs of different cultures swim through the fields as they sweated and huffed at horticulture development. She caught glimpses of remote-controlled Puppets taking to the skies, leaving compost seeds over clay earth in their wake. It was a golden sight. This was a land she helped cultivate years ago before she was taken into Miami for the first SPC projects a decade ago. She needed to work herself to the bone to pay for her deeds in the war. With only one arm back then, she felt she was finally paying for what she had done. This was true justice, and she had to break herself to do good. Though there was still a void. Was this part of her punishment? No more running away. ¡°Enjoying your time in Ziro Valley?¡± a feminine voice sounded from behind the tree. ¡°You look calmer than you usually are.¡± Evie smiled warmly, sitting down firmly and curling her legs into herself as a petite, honey-toned woman took a seat next to her. ¡°Hey, Ananta¡ª¡± ¡°Look at you all happy! What are you smiling at, Eve?¡± ¡°Just a bit of nostalgia, I think.¡± The coworker who aided her on this outing stretched her legs forward and breathed a sigh of relief. Evie wanted that more than most. ¡°Ah, I see. Fair enough,¡± the other woman would reply, trying to match Evie¡¯s humble aura as they simply enjoyed the silence. This was peak time; she felt greedy for an answer once more. ¡°Ananta?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Is it wrong to be greedy?¡± Silence. ¡°Eh? What?¡± ¡°Is it¡ª¡± ¡°What¡ªwhy do you ask?¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Evie knew she didn¡¯t talk to her as much, but being desperate for an answer, she needed to be truthful even more. She needed to talk more. She needed to elaborate more. So much more had to be done. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ve been wanting a lot of things lately.¡± Evie admitted, swallowing nervously as if she had committed a felony. ¡°Ah, well, depends on what it is,¡± Ananta replied with an unsure look on her face, scratching her jet-black hair in thought. ¡°It¡¯s somewhat¡­ sappy?¡± Evie turned towards the Puppet Backpack near her feet and then back at her right arm, frowning solemnly. ¡°My mind¡¯s been in a jumble. It hurts.¡± ¡°I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but you overwork a lot¡ª¡± ¡°I get an earful from Willo every day.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not a robot, Eve. Enjoy life like you are doing now.¡± Out of the few initiators of the attacks years ago, she only knew that she survived. She watched the others die. She couldn¡¯t clarify that, though; she was too deep in the heat of bloodlust. If she was going to tackle her sentient thoughts, she needed to avoid being too passionate. However, she wanted to cherish everything she had experienced, so that would augment that passion to dangerous levels. It hurt again. ¡°How can I enjoy life with all these worries in my head?¡± Ananta blinked at the question, tilting her head at Evie. ¡°Wow, uh¡­ this is¡ª¡± ¡°I-I apologize if I¡¯m dumping everything on you,¡± Evie stammered uncharacteristically, a shocking sight that caused Ananta to hone in on the conversation more. ¡°Ah¡­ I see. You are more discomposed than usual.¡± ¡°Sorry¡ª¡± ¡°No, don¡¯t apologize for having worries, Eve. It¡¯s normal.¡± ¡°But I want too much.¡± Ananta placed a hand on Evie¡¯s stiff shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. ¡°Well, I know you¡¯ve been living under a rock for some time due to your unhealthy overworking¡ª¡± ¡°Not with that again¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re a nymph; you¡¯re not some machine, Eve. You can¡¯t have everything or do everything. That¡¯s absurd.¡± Evie took time for granted. She neglected the thought of death in this long life of hers, but now faced with the epiphany that she couldn¡¯t do everything, she remembered. She should¡¯ve died those years ago in the war, which would have put a halt on this life she soon came to regret. Though she lived, and for some reason, she didn¡¯t want to die. She began feeling sentimental and spent what seemed like endless moments around the human race. If this was a sign of weakness, then this wasn¡¯t the perfect form she was meant to maintain as a nymph. Though, at the moment, she liked being weak. When she began thinking and thought that she could take on the world back in the Fallout, she became demented and abused her power. Now, in peak times when the golden rays of the sun bathed the paddies, she felt knocked down a peg. Despite her ceaseless guilt, she began to think that maybe she wasn¡¯t as powerful as she thought she was. She wanted to work arduously, regardless of her tiredness. She wanted innumerable desires, regardless of her mortality. So is this a good sin? Denying this order¡­ She wasn¡¯t sure if what she was feeling was right or if this was the answer she needed. But it felt comforting. If this cherishing she wanted was wrong, then she¡¯d selfishly do it. Instead of not valuing time itself for what seemed like her whole life, she breathed in the utopian zephyr she always failed to take in and exhaled. Feeling just a bit of relief to keep her confusion desirably staunched for some time, she relaxed and let the few drops of rainfall nourish the green and silver of her right arm.
The grey-haired billionaire breathed the utopian air, gazing out of the open panes of his luxurious office at a display of the unfurling cityscape and mushrooming greenery. ¡°We are in splendid times!¡± the slim man blazoned, spinning on his heel towards a hyperfocused and gleaming Willo. ¡°Don¡¯t you agree, Swoboda?¡± ¡°Of course, Mistah Goldmann!¡± Willo fastened his flimsy tie before kneading his palms together like a beggar. ¡°Business is perfection, as always¡ª¡± ¡°No, no, forget that for now. Three days ago was the 500th anniversary of the Fallout¡ª¡± ¡°Indeed it was, sir!¡± Willo exclaimed, recovering from his slip-up of being too formal. This was the way of a yes-man: adapt to the conversation and the detours with no questions asked. This was truly how business worked. ¡°We¡¯re in an era of prosperity, all thanks to when this race shook hands with the nymphs!¡± ¡°Agreed, sir!¡± ¡°Also, thanks to the war for happening!¡± ¡°Yeah! Wait¡ªno, not¡­¡± Willo shortcircuited as the older man fell into a fit of thundering laughter, joining in awkwardly near the end. ¡°I¡¯m only kidding, Swoboda! It¡¯s all calm¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, good to know, sir, because¡ª¡± ¡°However, there is some truth in my statement¡ª¡± Willo swiftly crossed his legs and formally leaned into the desk, resting his sharp chin on his folded, firm hands. ¡°What twisted truth do you suggest, sir?¡± ¡°Oh, nothing of the sort,¡± Goldmann chuckled lightheartedly, easing Willo to loosen up with a hand gesture. ¡°I¡¯m just saying that without the war changing visions and minds, we wouldn¡¯t be where we are today.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true¡ª ¡°In addition, without the nymphs, the human race would¡¯ve died off years ago.¡± Willo unlatched his hands and folded them onto the table, the statement piquing his intrigue. Living a secure life where he married a nymph, had a hybrid son, and was cherished by a nymph that acted as a sibling to him¡ªhe couldn¡¯t think of where he would be mentally if it wasn¡¯t for the other race being customary in his life. ¡°Well¡­ they are supernatural. So it makes sense, I suppose,¡± Willo stated, assuming an assertive tone. ¡°All wars become history, and said wars act as wake-up calls and precursors for the future.¡± ¡°So, generally speaking, this utopia we¡¯re seeing may have just been a product of some¡­ divine intervention?¡± Willo nibbled his ring fingernail inattentively, delving into the question with a broad mind. He recalled the many nymphs he had encountered in his life but filtered them down to people he had close to him now. Beck¡¯s a hybrid and, by technicality, a rare male nymph. He is sharp and witty¡­ but he can also be lazy and, well, too sharp. Phenomenal son that takes after me. He tapped a finger against the desk. My dearest Rhea needs no explanation; she¡¯s perfect. She can be a bit clumsy and worrisome, but those things just make her cuter. He tapped once more. Evie has been a bigger sister to me my whole life. She¡¯s an absolute wreck. He tapped, then chortled at the thoughts in his head, earning a fazed look from Goldmann. ¡°Is something funny?¡± ¡°No, no¡ª sir, it¡¯s nothing.¡± Willo shifted forward with a goofy yet charming grin and got up from his seat with his hands in his pockets. ¡°¡®Divine¡¯ wouldn¡¯t be how I would describe them, in my opinion.¡± ¡°Then what?¡± Willo strolled next to Goldmann, his cocoa eyes engrossed by the world beyond the window¡ªa world in which he has come to love regardless of the familial loss he felt years ago. Once again, he felt like a puerile innocent. ¡°In a way, they act just like humans¡ªnot perfectly, but they are close. I reckon it¡¯s just a curse of being born on this planet, but they aren¡¯t gods, that¡¯s for certain,¡± Willo replied with wonder in his speech. ¡°The intervention from them was good, don¡¯t get me wrong. It opened the human race¡¯s eyes; however, from what I¡¯ve seen at least, we¡¯re all in the same position on this Earth. That¡¯s what makes us equal in a way.¡± Goldmann breathed a sound of understanding, nodding as they both stared out into a refreshing, leisurely silence. ¡°Swoboda.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°You¡¯re a shameless suck-up¡ª¡± ¡°Goddamn, sir, you didn¡¯t hold back any punches,¡± Willo rumbled in defeat as the older man roared in amusement. ¡°Do a better job at hiding it¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ª ¡°No need to apologize. I like seeing the real you. You get incredibly chummy when you talk about your family, isn¡¯t that right?¡± Willo scratched his slicked-back hair with a clumsy snort, remembering how he always thought that Evie was effortless to read. They rubbed off on one another in many ways, whether it be their constant bickering or their shared affinity for sarcastic humour¡ªthey were tight-knit, and he didn¡¯t want to lose that, same for his other relations. ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯m a bit of a sappy little guy,¡± Willo joked. These were truly his happiest times. It all felt right. Chapter 6 (Final): Legato ¡°Right at home?¡± ¡°Might just slip off my work shoes then and skive¡ª¡± ¡°Believe me, I want you to slack off, but when you put it like that, I may have to file a firing order¡ª¡± ¡°Gosh, make up your mind,¡± Evie groaned playfully, poising her left fist and then hurling her right fist at Willo¡¯s shoulder instead, causing him to yelp through strained lips that caught some attention from other colleagues in the bustling halls. ¡°Don¡¯t even lie; you want me here¡ª¡± ¡°You seem¡±¡ªWillo wrenched strands of the nymph¡¯s knee-length hair with an agitated look¡ª¡±chippier than usual.¡± After an awkward bout for childish supremacy, Evie swatted the man¡¯s grasp away and proceeded to recover professionally by waving courtly to muddled passersby. Willo fastened his loose tie and unbuttoned shirt with a disapproving tut, following suit with cordial greetings. They ambled past the resplendent windows that filtered the morning rays into the silvery and greeny interiors of the headquarters, shadows flashing across in vivacity as delivery Puppets breezed through the cyanic sky beyond the glass. The humming of workmanship and robotics harmonized with jovial chatters between a tight-knit community, the air purified by palpable confidence and joint optimism. The high-octane flow of the workplace was a ritualistic marker of business at its zenith; everything was growing in tandem with one another, and it felt right. Even after their run-of-the-mill spat, they wore lofty looks as they breathed in the climate. She knew her eyes would sag once more as soon as she spun herself back into the tornado of her work life. However, while her mind was awake, she finally took in the ambience for once and felt her mind open up. She once again took notice of the many humans and nymphs that coexisted to fortify a sustainable future in this business she had grown with for decades. She still had many questions and doubts¡ªan unavoidable process she couldn¡¯t escape¡ªbut she felt she knew what she wanted. For once, she was in her element, where she could finally feel what she wanted to feel and think what she wished to think. Even with the aluminium pledge that she used as her right arm, she didn¡¯t feel as much weight; she felt boundless but still grounded. As they neared a door with her name and occupation plastered on it, she clutched the handle with a newfound determination. She fidgeted with the handle with conflicting knowledge of what this meant if she entered back into the cycle she worried about. ¡°So, you¡¯re going back into seclusion again?¡± Willo interrogated the dryad with a wily grin, nudging snobbishly yet satisfyingly at Evie¡¯s unspoken doubt. ¡°I don¡¯t want to baby a hag, y¡¯know; you need your sunlight.¡± ¡°Let me be a hag for a little while longer,¡± Evie pleaded with a mock puppy-eyed expression, turning to face an unimpressed Willo with a flimsy pout. ¡°I promise I won¡¯t be too long¡ª¡± ¡°At least try to persuade me. Cry, grovel, or whatever¡ª¡± ¡°Just get me some coffee, thank you¡ª¡± ¡°God, you¡¯re freaking helpless,¡± Willo snorted, folding his arms tightly as the dryad forced down the knob and pushed open the door to a dark room that automatically sprung to life. ¡°Dark?¡± ¡°I¡¯m feeling flat white¡ª¡± ¡°This is the last time I¡¯ll be fueling your useless addiction¡ª¡± ¡°Thank you for spoiling me then, Will,¡± Evie quipped, giving the man her best toothy grin, making Willo cock a brow at the sight. ¡°Wow, this is quite the opposite of the sad look you had a few days back¡ª¡± ¡°Thank you, thank you, hope that retracts the ¡®hag¡¯ comment¡ª¡± ¡°One occasion of beauty ain¡¯t gonna cut it; this needs to be a normal thing.¡± Evie¡¯s robotic fingers clutched the handle tighter, porcelain dimples curving upward at the rare compliment from her closest companion. She stared into the lighted room; the figmental calls for her to resume her long-standing mission echoed from the blueprints and toolboxes that littered the floors. She didn¡¯t want to overwork again; she wasn¡¯t a machine, that was for certain. Though she wished to work. Unlike many other times when she stepped into the zone, however, she was working not out of some obligation but out of her own volition. The truth¡ªshe had to face it. She had to stop this onslaught of contemplation and finally confront the authentic feelings she¡¯s refused to confront for so unbelievably long. She pushed the door further in but peered behind her to see if Willo had left. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. There he still was, expectedly with a knowing smirk¡ªthe foreseen expression of someone who has known her for ages. ¡°Where¡¯s my coffee?¡± Evie asked plainly. ¡°My question is why you are stalling so much. I¡¯m assuming you have some beans to spill¡ª¡± ¡°Crud¡ª¡± ¡°You promised you¡¯d spill¡ª¡± ¡°Fine¡ª¡± ¡°It was a 100% Willo guarantee¡ª¡± ¡°Fine¡ª¡± ¡°Do it¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re such a child¡ª¡± ¡°I know, and you are too. Such a hypocrite,¡± Willo scoffed, amused at Evie¡¯s scornful gaze. ¡°So, what do you have to say?¡± Evie toned down her snide impulses, her mouth agape with uncertainty. Finally faced with the judgmental mallet that imposed a need for confession on her, she gulped sweatily. She was unaware if she was doing right or wrong¡ªacting on impulse had scarred her ever since she began thinking independently. Her feelings were genuine this time, straightening up as a fire sparked in the wood nymph¡¯s emerald gaze. As she opened her mouth, akin to astral projection, she escaped from the worry-ridden stupor of her body and flashed through over 600 years of life in that single second. She accepted everything at that moment, and the strength came to her. She felt her fleshy hand tug on her cybernetic one, flaring to life like a person. ¡°I haven¡¯t grown sick of the outside world, as hard as it is to believe,¡± Evie started, her voice shaking yet resolute. Willo kept silent with a comfortable smile, leaning against a nearby wall as he watched his older sisterly figure with patience. ¡°I¡­¡± She trailed off, her eyes pricking like thorns as she remembered how greedy she had been lately. She felt oddly terrible, but she didn¡¯t care. She wanted to want. She wanted to desire. She wanted so much. She didn¡¯t take the time she spent with generations for granted anymore; suddenly she was much more in line with Rhea during that night that never left her head. After taking life, she began cherishing it. She wanted to cherish it. She wanted to nurture it. If this greed was a vice, then she¡¯s succumbed to it. ¡°I love my job; I love it to bits. I love the people here. I love the Swoboda family. I love you. I love Rhea. I love Beck. I love Miami. I-I love the human race!¡± She sinned against the natural order. She felt virtuous, as her rosy cheeks wettened and her body shook at the sudden weight that was exorcised from her. She wanted to say more and let loose this sudden euphoric pang; however, she let herself finally feel weak and stoop to the level of the race she had come to adore. ¡°You¡¯re lucky barely anyone¡¯s around this area, or this phenomenon will be on every headline,¡± Willo cackled, closing the distance between him and the dryad and using his thumb to gently wipe away the puddles on her cheeks. He noticed her quavering smile and returned a sympathetic one in return, enraptured by the naturalness she discharged wildly. ¡°Oh, shut up, Willo¡ª¡± She sniffled. Willo snickered. ¡°Dummkopf¡ª¡± ¡°Stop¡ª¡± ¡°To think you could become even more helpless? Do you need some breather time?¡± ¡°No, my goal to repay for my deeds back then still remains. That¡¯s¡­ something I can¡¯t just drop¡ªI¡¯m sorry¡ª¡± She inhaled sharply. Willo embraced her softly with a more comforting demeanour. ¡°You don¡¯t need to apologize¡ª¡± ¡°Sorry, I just¡ª¡± ¡°What did I just say¡ª¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t said what I¡¯ve wanted to say for so long. I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡°So it took you this much energy to say something so obvious?¡± Evie¡¯s eyes widened and met Willo¡¯s, noticing the man¡¯s understanding beam and mocking yet equally teary eyes¡ªthe look that had all the care in the world. ¡°What¡ª¡± ¡°With your devotion to your work and everything else, we¡¯d already think you were enjoying yourself,¡± Willo laughed, knocking the shivering nymph on the head and receiving a metallic knock to the arm in return. ¡°You don¡¯t need to point out the obvious; I¡¯m not an idiot.¡± Evie blinked in disbelief, having been read again despite not understanding her own emotions. ¡°Obvious?¡± ¡°Come on, Eve. You¡¯re dense as hell¡ª¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°Goldmann called me out the other day¡ªunexpected¡ªand I began thinking that I have become as stupid as you!¡± Evie scowled as she wiped at her lashes with the back of her sleeve, Willo pushing away from her to get a good look at her elegant visage. ¡°But, y¡¯know, Eve, I like it when you¡¯re like this. A wreck, yes, but you¡¯re the best wreck I could ever ask for,¡± Willo said with that same oversentimental mien she always recognized in this youthful soul. ¡°We are living in some of the best times we could ever ask for, so there¡¯s no time to be bottled up and hide this mess that you are. So, Evie¡­¡± Evie looked up at her brother, who put both hands on her shuddering shoulders and gave her a determined look. ¡°Grow up.¡± At that moment, she discovered a connection that wasn¡¯t that of the nymphs¡¯ neuronal connection but an inconspicuous link that she had failed to see ever since she started her mission. Connection to the human race¡ªon par with nymphs. ¡°Don¡¯t grow up so quickly that you¡¯ll abandon the mission you¡¯re determined to complete¡­ but grow up just enough to enjoy this good, good present!¡± Willo exclaimed to her with a sparkle in his chocolate gaze. ¡°Mistakes were made, but, y¡¯know, we gotta keep moving forward. Just like now because¡­¡± His smile widened as Evie was now staring in amazement at his words, not taking notice of the snot she had to wipe to remain professional. ¡°You look¡­ just fine,¡± Willo would sarcastically comment towards Evie¡¯s glamorous mess of a face, shoving his hands into his pockets as he sauntered away from his sister with a small snivel of his own. ¡°I can definitely get you coffee, but I¡¯m not getting my hands dirty in your mucus. Fix up¡ª¡± ¡°Right back at you, Swoboda,¡± she hissed, swiping a handkerchief from her breast pocket and swabbing her nose with it. ¡°Stop talking about yourself!¡± Willo exclaimed, chortling obnoxiously as he turned a corner away from her line of sight, walking with swagger like someone who had just about everything figured out in life¡ªeverything he ever wanted. The dryad slid the folded handkerchief into her pocket, swinging her head towards the workspace she was always trapped in. Though, with her robotic arm outstretched¡ªlaced with more verdure than ever¡ªshe didn¡¯t feel controlled anymore. With all that weight off her shoulders, she breathed a delicate breath and clenched her equal fists. There was a fire in this wood nymph¡¯s heart, but she didn¡¯t let it singe her. It raged inside her as her main drive was back in full throttle but was being driven by a different force this time¡ªa different puppeteer. 500 years after the end of the war she helped start, the dryad assisted in inspiring change. Though, considering the mission she set herself as her animate eyes fluttered over her metallic limb¡ªjust this once¡ªshe didn¡¯t bother verifying something from herself that she knew she¡¯d never get an answer to. Without much doubt in her mind, she felt right.