The girl was beautiful. Her face was calm, with a small smile on her face. It was a shame that I had to kill her. She reminded me of the naiads.
I heard a sound behind me. I turned slowly.
“Who...who are you?” the woman asked. This must be the mother of the girl, I thought.
“I am a messenger.”
“What is your message?”
I thought for a minute. “I believe my exact orders were to ‘kill the last descendant of the mortal goddess’.”
“She isn’t descended from the god-killer.”
I looked at her. “Tell me,” I said. “Do you know something the gods don’t? I’m sure they’ll love to hear that a mortal thinks that they know more than the Olympians.”
She blanched. It appeared that she didn’t like the idea of a lighting bolt hitting her.
“Now, I understand that it might be a bit traumatic to watch your only child die in front of you. I suggest that you leave the room.”
“Wait,” she said. I looked at her curiously. “Could I have one last hour with my daughter?”
I considered it. “If you try to help her escape, then you die too.”
She nodded. I was satisfied.
“I’ll be outside.”
I walked out of the room.
It was always unfortunate for these people. They couldn’t control who they were descended from, but they had to die for it.
This was the last one. The others had been killed over the past half-century. The cousin of this one had been dissolved into stars and sent up into the sky. I believe that that was the only one who had actually showed signs of receiving the cursed gift.
I watched the moon chariot move across the sky. It had been an hour.
I went back inside. The mother was in the girl’s room on the bed. The empty bed.
“Where is the girl?” I growled. The woman didn’t look at me.
“Gone.”
I couldn’t believe she actually did it. Now she had to die for no reason.
“You could’ve lived,” I said. Then I plunged my knife into her heart and twisted it.
I watched the life leave her eyes. I used her blood to write a message next to her.
She defied the gods’’ wishes. Don’t make the same mistake.
There. That should strike fear into the hearts of some mortals.
I stood up. It was time to find the girl. She thought she could run from the hunters. Just like the rest of them.
I followed her tracks. The girl had come a long way. I could see her, a half-kilometer or so away from me.
I was impressed that she was still running. Then I realized something. She wasn’t running away. She was running too.
I cursed, How could I have been so ignorant?!
The Grove of Nymphs was nearby. They would defend anyone who came for protection.
I judged the distance. She was maybe a hundred meters from the grove. She was sprinting now.
I started forward with all the speed of an Olympian. I was closing the gap, but was I going fast enough?
She turned and saw me. A look of fear flashed across her face.
She ran into the grove, with me a few meters behind her.
“Nymphs, I ask for your protection!” she yelled as she fell to the ground.
I pulled out my knife and lunged for her. Something held me back.
“Who are you?” the Oread holding me asked.
“I am the Olympian Huntress!” I growled. “This girl’s death has been ordered by Zeus himself!”
“You are on sacred ground, blessed by Gaea. I doubt that you want to cross the earth goddess by killing here.”
“Fine! I will take her away from here and then kill her.”
A dryad stood between me and the girl.
“This girl has asked for our protection, so I’m afraid that I cannot allow you to take her from here.”
“This girl is a descendant of Meropi!”
The tree nymph was quiet. “Do you know what happens when a mortal is turned into a nymph?” she asked.
“No, and I don’t care!”
The dryad looked me in the eyes. “When a mortal is turned into a nymph, they become a different creature. A creature who does not have ichor running through their veins.”
I was quiet.
“May I assume,” the nymph continued. “That the problem is that the Olympuans are afraid of being mortal, so they are eliminating anyone who can make that happen?”
I nodded. I saw where she was going with this.
“So, if this girl was turned into a nymph, would that also solve the problem?”
“Yes.”
“Then it is obvious what must happen.”
She turned to the girl. “What is your name?”
“Zoë.”
“Well Zoë, it appears you have a choice. Do you want to die or do you want to forsake your mortality and become a nymph?”
I have to admit that I was kind of hoping that she chose the first option.
“Nymph.”
I made a sound of disappointment. The nymph looked sharply at me.
“What kind of nymph? There are naiads, oreads, hamadryads, dryads, leimoniads, and a couple others,” the dryad said.
Zoë looked hopelessly confused.
The nymph rephrased her question. “Do you want to be a nymph of a river, mountain, tree, forest, or a meadow?”
“You could always let me kill you,” I offered.
I’m pretty that the Oread punched me.
She looked at me. I gave her a big smile. “Dryad,” she said quickly.
The other dryad took her hand and led her over to a sapling. “My name is Ash. That is my tree.”
She pointed to an ash tree about 10 feet away.
“How creative!” I said.
The Oread threw me into the river.
“Hey!” I said while swimming to the shore so I could enact my revenge. Then I realized that the naiads were holding me.
The girl touched the sapling. “This is an aspen. Once we complete the ceremony, you won’t be Zoë, you will be Aspis until you die.”
She nodded.
Ash turned to the naiads. “Please keep the hunter underwater until the ceremony is done. She is not worthy to witness this.”
“Wait, what?” I said.
“Take a deep breath.” Then they dunked me.
They held me under for several minutes. Then their grip loosened and I shot up.
I looked at the dryad that had previously been my target.
“Whoa.”
Her skin was the color of an aspen tree, with dark splotches in various places. Her hair was a beautiful, leafy green. Her eyes were the color of chlorophyll.
“Hello Aspis,” the nymphs chorused.
“Are you sure that she has no ichor in her veins?” I asked.
“Yes. I am certain,” Ash said.
I looked at Aspis. “I suppose that my mission is done. I doubt the gods will ask the specifics on how she died.”
I walked out the grove and into the sky.
✱
I walked into the Hall of Olympians.
“Hello Father,” I said.
“Is she dead?” asked Zeus.
“Zoë, the great-granddaughter of the mortal goddess Meropi is dead.”
Zeus smiled. “Well done Artemis. Very well done indeed.”
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