Trell and Nénuphar

In the highlands east of Trá Magnon is a forest and fey wood untouched by human civilization. It is here that a young nymph named Nénuphar was born. As with most nymphs, she grew up in a culture unburdened by the trappings and social restrictions that we humans learn to accept. She played freely with the animals and other fey that lived in the wood, growing up innocent of evil and sorrow. She learned of the cycle of life, but was untouched by the sorrow and sacrifice that existed in the savage world beyond the forest.

As the young nymph began to mature she found herself charmed by the silly fauns and the mischievous satyrs. One faun in particular caught her eye by the name of Trell. He had a magical glide to his step and would create dances and performances just to delight her. She loved to dance with him at celebrations, or just to watch as he charmed the fey wood with his graces and leaps that would tell stories and express emotions of all kinds.

At the age of fourteen the young faun was accepted into the elite guardians of the fey wood called Dervish where he would learn to use his dancing grace with martial skills. Nénuphar was sad that we was not around as much, but when he did return, he would tell her tales of amazing places and creatures that lived beyond the fey borders, in the larger forest, and even in the high desert to the north. She found herself always looking forward to his next visit, and found that she did not even care if he had any new stories or dances for her; she just enjoyed his company.

Then one summer day she was asked to visit with the elders of the fey wood. When she arrived she found Trell in attendance and sat near him to wait for someone to address her. She did not have to wait long before the queen of the dryads, Cheveux de la Séquoia, invited both Trell and Nénuphar to come forward.

For the first time, the youth got a close look at the queen of the forest. Her skin was a red bronze color, and clearly showed the wood-like lines and swirls characteristic of Dryads. Her hair which was loose, pathed over her left shoulder and curled in her lap. It was a magnificent red chestnut color and was woven throughout with small white flowers. Atop her head was placed the great wreath of the queen. Golden ivory intertwined around living jewels and flowers of all colors, and glistened like the stars. She was wearing a beautiful, full length gown made of green and silver leaves. White roses bloomed in a beautiful sash across her right breast, decreasing is size down across her figure to her left hip, and from there down to the hem which was also completely ringed in small white roses. Upon her feet feet she wore light sandals made of ivy that climbed up her legs to just above the ankle. Her hands were completely bare except for the humble silver band worn in memoriam of her deceased husband.

“Welcome, and thank you for coming.” began the queen. “I have called you both here tonight to ask you both very hard favors.”

“Trell, the elders of the Dervish guardians have expressed to me their interest to offer you the post of a trainer in their ranks, and they have asked for my blessing and council in this consideration.”

“I am absolutely thrilled at your progress, and I believe that you will make a good leader among the guardians, but my brother, Chêne, lord of the forest has asked me to set you on another path.”
“Trell, your training has taught you that the world outside our forest is ever changing and constantly presents new challenges for the defenders of our homelands. What you may not know is that Chêne is quickly approaching the end of his time among us in this world. He does not look it, such is the blessing of the fey, but he must soon select a successor to replace him as the leader of the forest defenses. While there are many capable leaders among the ranks of the Dervish, the archers, and the cavalry, he is looking for a younger man to fill those shoes. To prove your worth in this, he has asked that you take the path of the Paria Volontaire for three years. He hopes that such a course would deepen your wisdom and skills sufficient to shoulder the burden he now carries.”

Turning to Nénuphar and the rest of those gathered, Séquoia explained that the Paria Volontaire were soldiers the took a voluntary exile in an effort to learn of themselves and the world in which they live. It is a very dangerous path to take, but one with rich rewards in experience and wisdom.

Séquoia let her words sink in, as she turned back to see Nénuphar’s eyes began to spill onto her cheek, the fear and grief of her heart. And despite Nénuphar’s efforts to remain strong she found that she had taken hold of Trell’s hand and was leaning on him for support.

Seeing the distress in Nénuphar’s countenance Séquoia’s voice softened. “Nénuphar, I can see in you eyes what I had feared. You have already given your heart, and this separation will be very difficult for you. To ease this burden I am prepared to offer you the opportunity to train among our dryads and learn the ways of a forest druid. This will allow you occupy your mind and your hands and provide a great service to the forest.”

Then addressing both Trell and Nénuphar, Séquoia continued, “Now before either of you decide, it is important that you know what your other options are. As you both know, Trell has reached the age that he can choose a mate, but Nénuphar, you are still a child, and are not free to make such a choice. If you both choose to stay here at the lake and turn away from the paths offered, your relationship will be chaperoned at all times until Nénuphar reaches her coming of age. If on the other hand you are found together without a chaperone you will be forced to endure a complete and forced separation.”

“Whether you choose the paths of struggle and enlightenment or peace and rest, you may choose to wed, with the honors of the forest, when Nénuphar reaches her coming of age, but I would beg of you consider the glory you can bring to the forest hand in hand as honored druid and celebrated traveler and military leader.”

“I am prepared to give my blessing to whatever you choose, but ask you both to consider very carefully. Please return in three days so that we may celebrate whichever paths you choose.”

Trell and Nénuphar found no joy in dancing or storytelling that night or the next, or the next, and as the time of council approached on the third day found their hearts torn and indecisive.
That afternoon found Trell and Nénuphar sitting on a rock by the lake staring into the forest on the far side. Nénuphar finally got up the courage to whisper, “Are you going to go?”

Trell’s voice cracked as he responded, “Do you think I should?”

When he got no response he continued, “I feel a great responsibility when I think of the the path of Paria Volontaire, but I also feel deep fear. I have never been beyond the borders of the forest, and very few who venture beyond the trees… ever…”

Trell let his voice path off leaving his fear unspoken.

A few minutes later Nénuphar spoke up again, but still her voice was barely above a whisper. “My mother has offered to teach me the ceremony of the muse. It would give you some help, and let me know how you are while you are…”

This time it was Nénuphar’s voice the cracked, unable to finish her thought.
Trell placed his hand on hers and in a noticeably stronger voice replied, “Thank you. I will go.”

Both Trell and Nénuphar stood resolutely before Cheveux de la Séquoia, Trell’s entire Dervish squad, their parents, friends, and every other flying, swimming, leaping, and crawling fey for miles around.

They all waited patiently for the council to begin when a sudden flourish of wings and feathers dropped right into the middle of the clearing. To the surprise and thrill of all, Chêne, High Defender of the Forest took his seat beside Cheveux de la Séquoia.

Chêne was a wood elf dressed in his characteristic green and brown armor. His face shown with elven beauty, and his hair flowed in yellow locks across is shoulders. On his back were a pair of wings made of leaves; magnificent and green wings worn by the archers. Absent where his bow and quiver, as was the keen grilling look that often inhabited his gray eyes. In his left hand he bore a bouquet of yellow and blue flowers that only grow high in the mountains, many miles from the lake.

Planting a kiss upon Séquoia’s knuckles, and settling the flowers in a vase near her chair, Chêne encouraged her to begin.

Looking at Trell Séquoia began: “Trell of the Dervish do you choose the path of the Paria Volontaire or do you choose to stay in the fey wood forgoing the consideration for the post of High Defender?”

Pausing just long enough to take a deep breath Trell answered: “I choose Paria Volontaire.”

Charged whispers spread through the clearing until Séquoia raised her hands to continue. “And Nénuphar, do you choose the path of the druid, or do you choose to await Trell’s return here at the lake?”

Again taking Trell’s hand, Nénuphar spoke clearly despite the steady flow of heartache flowing from her eyes. “I choose to bring honor and healing to the forest as a forest druid.”

Again a murmur rippled through the crowd, but it quickly turned to clapping and cheering.
Despite the joy and excitement of the onlookers Nénuphar was forced to bury her face in Trell’s shoulder. Trell wrapped his arms around her quivering and sobbing body until Séquoia once again called for quiet.

“Friends, let us prepare a great celebration for tomorrow night. We have heroes to send off.”

With that a cheer rose and thundered across the valley for many minutes as the crowds dispersed.

As the crowd cheered, Trell looked to Chêne, and received a nod of approval, then a burst of leaves as Chêne returned to his duties.

Trell stood in the clearing a long time with his arms around Nénuphar and tears streaming down his face. He did not dare to let go for fear that either she or he would fade into oblivion.

They both awoke as the sun began to peek into the clearing. Still wrapped in each other’s arms they lay in the grass where they had stood to face the council. Cheveux de la Séquoia queen of the forest smiled as they arose. Then without a word, strode off to the duties of the day.

That day was a whirlwind of goodbyes and gifts, and before mid day, both Trell and Nénuphar were absolutely drowning in bouquets and flower necklaces. They sat on a fallen tree near the lake holding hands as each well-wisher offered their blessing and advice.

Trell’s parents both bustled about all day doing this and that, setting tables, arranging flowers, declaring favorite colors, and all manner of fey preparations for a feast.

Nénuphar’s mother sat near the couple busying herself with something in the grass until the sun reached its peak when she called Nénuphar. “Nénu, it is time. If you still wish to perform the ceremony, it is ready.”

Nénuphar slipped out of here mound of gifts and flowers and knelt beside her mother. There cradled in a small hollow in the grass was a dandelion with one perfect yellow flower. Nénuphar and her mother talked together softly for a few minutes rehearsing the words, and then they called for Trell to join them.

Her mother rose and took up a protective stance a few feet away as Nénuphar began. She drew one hair from her white head, and curled in into a small round copper locket barely the size of her thumb. She placed the open locket in Trell’s left palm and placed his thumb on the hair and locket. She then took his left hand in her right hand, and with her left reach down to caress the dandelion bloom.

As Nénuphar began to chant, Trell felt an energy begin to swirl around them. They seemed to be in the center of a whirlwind of colored wisps that circled faster and faster and she chanted. Trell felt magic flowing into every part of his body, and he saw the dandelion wrap itself around Nénuphar’s left ring finger with the bloom settling onto her knuckle like a huge yellow gemstone. Then Trell locked eyes with Nénuphar’s who slowly closed the locket and fasten it to a small chain around his neck. As she closed the clasp he felt the magic in his body freeze in place.

Nénuphar whispered, “With this kiss I give my heart to you, and as long as you keep this locket remains with you, I will be able to monitor your well-being.” She then leaned forward and kissed him deep and long and hard.

When Trell finally felt Nénuphar draw away from him, he opened his eyes and the swirling clouds were gone. Everything was as it had been before the spell, except the locket that hung around his neck and the dandelion that rested on Nénuphar’s finger.
As he rose he felt different, stronger, swifter somehow. He felt better than he had ever felt, and could not help but pull Nénuphar to her feet and swirled her away into a vigorous and wild dance of joyful abandonment.

Eventually this too came to an end and the two love birds slipped back into their mountain of flowers where they received visitors for many more hours. But this time, rather than holding hands, they sat with arms around each other beaming with cheerful enthusiasm.

When the sun finally slipped behind the Keltorin mountain range, buckets and jars of all descriptions began to flood into the grassy area around the lake. There were fruits of all descriptions, juices, spring water, flowers, magical lights, and lots of fey wine. In minutes the tables were overflowing and everyone had a seat.

Séquoia, sat at the end of a long table dressed in a simple ankle length gown of white gossamer that sparkled in the moonlight. Trell and Nénuphar sat at her side; Trell dressed in his full Dervish uniform, including weapons and armor, and Nénuphar dressed in a simple circulate of green leaves around the crown of her head. Séquoia stood, and suddenly unseen trumpets split the air. She rose until her feet were well above the table when she offered thanks to the elements, the forest, and to all those at the feast. She declared the feast open. Then, as everyone began to empty the baskets and jugs, she gave a short speech reviewing the quests that Trell and Nénuphar were embarking on, and announced the festivities would begin with a presentation to Trell by the Dervish, and a welcome to Nénuphar by the dryads.

Trell was able to take a couple bites of his favorite fruit before the sound of marching hooves began to approach from the far side of the lake. As the guests watched a troop of Dervish Fauns, surrounded fairy-fire danced and tumbled their way across the surface of the lake, their hooves sounding like firecrackers with each step.

Not far from the shore nearest the honored guests, the troop assembled and paused at full attention for a few seconds before beginning their formal military dance of honor. Suddenly without any noticeable warning, the group group divided two by two and began to fight. It would have looked like a full out battle if it were not that each pair danced and dodge, flipped and spun in perfect unison. The sound of the dance was accompanied by the perfect clang of swords and pop of hooves, and it accelerated and grew louder until a great climax where the entire troop began rapidly pounding their hooves and clashing their swords in unison until they stopped turned to the audience, and suddenly every hoof and and every sword made one final burst of sound, and then the night went still.

At that same moment a brightly lit form rose from the far shore on might wings and soared across the lake, landing on the shore before the crowd. As the eyes of the crowd adjusted to the luminous form they could see Chêne dressed in full uniform carrying his great bow, quiver, and brace of short swords.

Chêne extended his wings to their full extension and spoke in a formal and commanding voice: “Trell of the Dervish, First Class, stand forth.”

Trell snapped to his feet and marched forward until he stood before Chêne like a leaf trying to block out the full glory of the sun. He snapped a sharp solute, and stood still.

“Trell, “ continued Chêne, “you have accepted the path of the Paria Volontaire, which the guardians of the forest hold in highest esteem. To aid you in this quest I bestow upon you a pride of the archers, a darkwood bow staff of the archers.”

The onlookers gasped in awe as Chêne unstrapped his very own bow, and handed it to Trell who dropped to one knee and accepted the weapon with deepest honor.

Chêne paused a moment and the released the clasp of his weapon belt and handed it, with its two gleaming short swords to Trell.

“Trell, I also give you my own Dervish Master Blades.”

“You will not be able to realize their full potential yet, but as your skill deepen the abilities and full strength of them will be yours.”

Trell reverently removed his own weapon belt and placed it gently in the hands of a Dervish member who had come forward. He then accepted and timidly strapped on the legendary blades.

Chêne continued, “Trell, you take the brightest hopes and dreams of the fey wood with you. Be wise, be true, and may the gods bend your path home when your journey is done.”

Trell raised a quivering hand to salute as Chêne leapt into the air, and flew back to the far side of the lake where he disappeared among the trees. The Dervish troop also danced their way back across the lake popping and clanging as they went.

Trell turned and bowed deeply to the feast attendants before returning to his seat.
Somewhere in the back of the crowd the cheers turned into a chant of ‘Trell, Trell, Trell, Trell…’
Eventually Séquoia calmed the throng and turned to Nénuphar. “Sweetest daughter of the Nymphs, you too are being honored this night.”

From out of nowhere Séquoia then produced a glowing rock and threw it high in the air where it exploded in a burst of sparks and sound. Then the forest and lake erupted into sound as if every animal and lake dwelling creature were sounding at once. Suddenly the sound was drowned out by four distinct calls that were deeper and louder. One seemed to be a growling bear, but one that vibrated the bones of the revelers. The second was a trumpeting sound like a great elk. The third was a screech like a great bird that made their ear ring, and the final sound was less familiar to most, it was a deep barking grunting sound the caused the table to vibrate.

Just when everyone thought the world might burst from the sound, it stopped, and into the clearing bounded a great bear that stood eight feet at the shoulders. From the opposite side of the clearing a giant elk bounded, its rack of horns spreading ten feet wide and at least that high above the grass. From the lake burst a giant walrus whose mammoth tusks were over six feet long, and weighed several times that of the great bear. Finally, from the sky glided a great eagle with a wingspan of twenty five feet or more, which shadowed the entire glade.

As these behemoths burst in the clearing, many gasps and a few creams were heard, but all soon quieted down as the four animals transformed into their more familiar fey forms. The eagle became a tall and slender elf. The walrus became a small green nixie, The bear became a rather charming dryad that giggled at the commotion, and the great elk became a stern looking dryad with black hair and dark brown skin.

The stern looking dryad stepped forward and called for Nénuphar to step forward. Timidly the nymph stood and walk with a hesitant step up to the dark dryad.

“I am Silencieuse Ébène leader of the druids.” announced the dryad. “I am pleased to welcome you to the Druid Order of Fey Wood. You will be training under the tutelage of each of us as you learn the ways of the druid.”

Turning to the giggly druid she said, “This is Baie de Houx, She will train you in the care of the animals.”

As Nénuphar bowed, Baie de Houx ran up to her and hugger her until Nénuphar’s face turned red. “Welcome, I am so excited to have you.” she said as she scampered back to her place with the other druids.

“Ez Elnephiti Elppha, which means Blue Fin in our common language, will teach you the ways of the plants and animals that live in and around the waters,” said Silencieuse point to the small green skinned sprite that had only moments before lumbered out of the water as a great walrus.
The sprite bowed, spread her arms wide toward Nénuphar and said something that sounded like “ooo aaaa da graaaa ōda do vee wid oos.”

Baie de Houx, standing next to the small sprite giggled and explained: “She does not speak our common language very well. What she said was ‘You are an honor to be with us’.
As Baie de Houx translated for them, Ez Elnephiti Elppha blushed brightly, bowed her head and placed both her webbed hands over her heart.

Nénuphar could clearly tell she was embarrassed, so she knelt in front of her and gave her a big hug. Absolutely drowning the small sprite in her white hair. In return the sprite gave her a kiss on the cheek. As Nénuphar attempted to stand the sprite held onto her hand long enough to place one of her own on her head and said, “Elppha”.

Baie de Houx again quickly chimed in again, “She wants you to call her Elppha. It is easier for most of us to say, and is a great honor to….”.

Just at that moment Baie do Houx got a sharp slap on the knee and even sharper glare from the green skinned sprite.

Baie do Houx winced and quickly whispered, as if Elppha couldn’t here: “It’s a great honor to be able to call her that. Where she comes from…”

Another sharp slap silenced Baie do Houx who puckered her lower lip, and began to sulk.

“And this…” began Silencieuse, pointing to the tall elf.

“…is Pelanthar”, he broke in, striding forward to give Nénuphar a warm hug. “I will be showing you way of the birds and races outside our lands.”

“…and I…” said Silencieuse bowing before Nénuphar, “will be teaching you of the plants.”

“…and if you are strong and courageous you may even be able to work with some of our friends from the other realms.”

As Silencieuse finished, all four of the druids began to speak in an unfamiliar language while making strange dance like movements with their bodies.

Suddenly the entire world seemed to come alive. The water began to heave into huge waves; the ground around them began to buckle and move, the air erupted into blasts and gust, and even the fires of the feast began to explode in great jets of flame.

After a few moments of upheaval the water gathered itself into a great form about twenty feet high that looked vaguely humanoid with a head, shoulders, and arms, but the lower half was merely a giant wave rising from the lake. To the right of the druids a huge creature made of stone stood. Almost as tall as the water elemental, this creature of earth was much broader and made the earth shake with every movement. Above the crowed was a huge vortex of air churning and spinning on itself. Amid the winds were two bright eyes staring down at the crowd. And finally, out of each of the fires leapt a figure of living fire, all of which came together and merged into to a column of fire ten feet wide and high enough to rival the tallest trees in the forest.

Turning to the water elemental Silencieuse bowed deeply. In return the elemental seemed to speak words that sounded like a great waterfall pouring into a deep pool. As she bowed to the earth creature it to erupted into a speech of some kind that sounded a great deal like huge boulders rolling down a hill. Next, a bow to the column of fire elicited a crackling roar and an eruption of sparks. Finally, Silencieuse raised her hands and eyes to the whirling mass above them that seemed to have become tangled up with the column of fire. The whirlwind did not reply for a minutes as it sent out a great burst of air that slapped the column of hard enough to make it move back about twenty feet. Then a hissing whisper erupted from it that ruffled every hair and sash in the clearing.

When the sounds had all died down, Silencieuse again addressed Nénuphar, “These are some of the elementals that help us maintain balance in our world. They are powerful and true friends to those who seek balance, but can be very dangerous to those who do not. You may be honored to work with these as friends and allies if you prove yourself true to your cause.”
All the druids gave one swift wave of their arms which seemed to signal to the elementals that they could go because they all began to shrink and return to where they had come from.
Silencieuse then strode a step forward, and took Nénuphar’s hand in her own. “We welcome you, and hope you will find fulfillment in your associations and service with us. Farewell until the morrow.”

All four of the druids again resumed their animal forms and let out great trumpeting calls as the retreated back from whence they had come.
Everyone sat silent as the sounds retreated into the forest. Nénuphar took her seat beside Trell, and the queen once again rose above the table and bid everyone eat and play.
The feast continued for a couple hours until Séquoia called for music and dancing. Immediately instruments of all sizes and sounds began playing around the meadow, before long everyone was dancing and laughing. Trell and Nénuphar were only able to steal a few dances together, but still loved every minute of it.

As the sky in the east began to brighten, the instruments dropped out of the merriment one by one until only a lonely flute raised its voice to meet the growing morning. It was a long and slow melody played by Queen Cheveux de la Séquoia herself. It gave Trell and Nénuphar one last slow dance before the sun brought an new beginning to both of their lives. Then just as the first rays of the sun began to dance across their faces, the song ended, and they both burst into tears, and shared one last long hug before Séquoia ushered them off their respective beds.

All of fey wood slept that day, and not until the sun once again disappeared did they begin to venture out. Trell and Nénuphar only caught one short glimpse of each other as Silencieuse ushered Nénuphar south, and a troop of Dervish formally escorted Trell on his journey north.