Psyche and Eros

Nymphs

Growing up, I collected coins because of their images. Yes, yes, my family had the privilege of allowing me to hoard money under my bed to maintain my happiness. 

The nymphs were my particular favourites. To me, they appeared so utterly free and alluring, even trapped in the pictures etched and banged into the chunks of metal. They could be beautiful - a quality I knew early on in my life was painfully important. I also admired their union with nature. They showed me that the world of the humans did not have to matter. Castles and money did not have to matter. Or at least they helped me imagine the possibility. 

I suppose I have never prized the world I was born into very much. I admired the outside and held no understanding of what I had. I suppose many other little girls felt the same whenever they heard stories of the Gods, Goddesses, and the other creatures in between, whether they were considered monsters or not. 

I dreamed of being a nymph and not having to endure my family anymore. Now, one is speaking to me so that I can have my chance at a family. 

I grew up miserable, imagining my sisters in darker lights than they were, when I could have cherished their company when I had it. When girlhood ends...I suppose it does all at once, without mercy, without warning. Now, we are barely family at all. 

This nymph reminds me of Cora. Her face pointed and daring in a similar way. She has a touch of perfection, as well, just as I so highly imagined of her. The nymph's hair dried immediately as it hit to the air. Her eyes were filled with a variety of clear blues as it were dancing water. Her hair was dark and her skin pale in perfect contrast.

Most of all, her teeth were sharp. I noticed it as she spoke. "They'll bite you if you come too close. I've seen many a mortal lose the skin of their hand...if they manage to keep it at all." Her words send a chill down my body. 

"I suspected as much. I am not in the favour of the Goddess." 

"Yes, Aphrodite. We all know her well. We would be fools not to. Just as we know your business with her," the creature said, her eyes showing a spark of sympathy beneath the coldness.

"W-why? Why bother to warn me? What if she finds out?" I ask. 

"She won't. You'll still complete the task despite our warning." Her cold hands direct my gaze. "See those bushes over there? They migrated from there not all that long ago. The shrubbery was sharp enough to rip some of their wool off."

I do indeed see a scattering of tufts lodged in them. "Those are all so small. What if that doesn't please her?" 

"Surely you must have some talents? Did you not learn to make clothing in your home?" The nymphs lightly laughs at me. "Make something with it. If you can. Use whatever resources you can find and gift her not only the materials, but a shawl or something for her to wear." 

My mouth hangs open, but I know the suggestion is the best I could hope for. 

"Besides, tonight will be chillier than most. You will need something to keep you warm." 

With that she dips back into the water, leaving barely a mark left behind. It really does not appear all that deep, but she disappears as if she were nothing but mist.

*          *            *           *            *

Using the skirt of my dress, I spent hours collecting every tuft I could find. Every so often, I would return to the other side of the river, carefully tethering the wool to the ground underneath several rocks until I could return with enough to make something of it.

I felt hopeless, staring at the insignificant pile. I swore there was nothing left for me to scavenge, but I returned anyway...

Only to find more. The same branches I cleaned off now glistened with more golden fleece. I didn't question it, I kept grabbing with newfound energy, pulling skirt fulls back and forth all day.