The days after visiting the Nymph Spring flew by. Mint continued her cohabitation with Verk in mundane but enjoyable bliss. Every few days Verk would hunt to keep them fed, while she kept the house. On the days he didn't hunt, he taught her ancient Elven, allowing her to read more books.
Every once in a while, Fauntheia and a handful of other Nymphs would visit. Mint always looked forward to their visits as it offered her the opportunity to host a tea party. Facilitating the need to bake a cake.
Through Fauntheia's visits and her follow-up visits to the spring, her ancient elfish was to the point she could fluently converse in it.
Most excitedly was the time Verk allowed her to navigate the path to the spring. Though it took half the day, she found the spring without getting lost. As she beamed at the prospect of visiting the Nymph Spring unaccompanied, she noticed the pathway become noticeably more grassy with buds sprouting on the branches of the trees.
To the anguish of her heart, Elfania's spring was fast approaching. Soon the emerald night sky would turn deep blue, and the great elf mother's sun would shine upon the land once more.
"Is it such a cause for concern?" Fauntheia asked, occupying the seat across from her in the parlor, the elder nymph her only visitor this day. Verk was out on patrol and wouldn't be back until evening. "I'm certain Verk would not mind if you stayed. I certainly wouldn't."
"What of my duties?" Mint protested, though her heart wasn't in it. She didn't want to go to Halifax or return home, but she feared what would become of her mother or, worse, what disaster would befall the forest she's come to love these past few months.
"We've lived in these woods long since before your grandfather's grandfather came crying out of the womb. You need not fear for us, little sister." Fauntheia said, sipping her tea. "If it bothers you so, I can eliminate your father and the Prince of Halifax."
"But they're Elfanian!"
"Their what, ninth generation? They are as far of a relation to me as a shrub to a willow. Considering their flame, the children of Bellanyx have long since lost the divine light of Elfania. You even bred like humans." Fauntheia waved her hand with a smile. "Not to rag on you, of course, little sister, but facts are facts."
Mint stewed slightly as she stared into her tea. "If you were to appear before my father, and make a divine proclamation, would that not be enough?"
"Afraid not, I lack the authority to make such bold claims. It's much less messy to just kill them; that way, it will be seen as divine punishment. For what will be anyone's guess, but Mother won't miss a few pawns on the grand board." Fauntheia set her cup down and demanded Mint's full attention by lifting her chin so they were eye to eye. "Listen to me, little sister; a half-snapped blade can still cut. Understand?"
Mint nodded meekly. "You're saying unless I'm willing to go that far, it's pointless."
"Something like that," huffed the Nymph. "So long as you are useful to your father, he will be unwilling to let you slip away. You never know what he might scheme if left alive."
Mint went to refresh their tea, wondering where her kingdom stood in the grand scheme of the Elfanian war effort. Kings such as her father were important enough that even a third-generation Nymph such as Fauntheia couldn't remove one without repercussion.
She acts like it wouldn't be a big deal, but I doubt it.
"I appreciate your offer," Mint said as she steeped more tea leaves. Finding it easier to talk with her back turned. "But this is my burden. It was thrust upon me, but I can't let anyone else come to harm because of me. You and Verk have been nothing but kind, and I have loved my time here. So much so that I do not wish to leave, but there are things I must set right back home. I don't want to cause a fuss."
Fauntheia let out a long hum as she kicked her legs. "If that's what you want. Honestly, mortal politic are so…" The nymph made a face of disgust. "Exasperating. I fear we will soon become all too human ourselves if we continue this way."
"Perhaps it's inimitable," Mint smiled, refilling Fauntheia's cup. "All of us came from humans after all."
"That cannot be denied," Fauntheia pouted. "Even I'm made from humans, perhaps you and your kind are the true 'elves' as the others like to call us."
"I've never thought of it like that," Mint said, retaking her seat with a fresh cup. She pondered the idea between sips and found perhaps Fauntheia was right. The nymph before her was born from a divine tree that feasted on flesh to create the avatar sitting across from her. Fauntheia was as flesh and blood as her, but her true form was that of a tree somewhere out in the forest. Even if the nymph died in her chair, so long as her tree was intact, Fauntheia would still live, while she would simply be dead. "Could you clarify something for me?"
"If I possess the knowledge, I shall." Fauntheia gestured for her to speak.
"Say the you sitting across from were to die, would you be able to grow another body? I've heard Nymph can do such things, but will you still be Fauntheia or someone new? Will you look the same as before, or different? Would you still be the same person you are now?"
"That is an interesting question." Fauntheia sipped her tea, her brow scrunched in deep concentration. "I have not experienced a replanting myself, but I have seen examples of both from my older sisters. The first lost her nymph body in battle and had to grow a new one from scratch. Once more she produced a Nym to collect material — human flesh, the meat of beasts, and other catalysts. I need not bore you with the process. The body she produced was dramatically different in appearance, and she'd lost much of the strength she had before, but she remained the same in every other way. She even kept her name. I found it jarring calling her by the same name with an unfamiliar face, but I grew used to it. She was still my sister in the end, no matter her appearance."
"And what of the other? Did she change her identity entirely?" Mint asked.
"She tried, or perhaps it's better to say she wanted to reset her mind. Unlike my other sisters, this one willingly destroyed her vessel to forget something painful. It was successful. She kept her face, her name, and even most of her power, but a part of her mind was lost. She didn't completely forget, but separated herself from the pain haunting her."
"Separate herself from the pain?" Mint frowned, unable to comprehend the concept. "In what way?"
"By regrowing her vessel, my sister detached herself from her heartache and treated the former her as someone else." Fauntheia huffed, while digging into her temple. "Honestly, I find the whole thing equally baffling, but to keep on topic. We nymphs can produce new bodies so long as our trees are intact. I'm not sure how many of our cousins or their descendants can do the same."
"I most certainly cannot," Mint said. "In fact, I'm certain my father nor anyone back home can. I'm not sure any Nacht can, so far removed from divinity we are. Can mermaids or salamanders? I know Sylphs only live for a certain amount of time before they scatter to the winds and grow a new body."
"Sylphs live for five hundred years at best before scattering, Ignis come from trees, and can live so long as the fire of their leaves burns, Salamanders are what we call half-breeds and are for too common. Mermaids…" Fauntheia crests her brow. "I think the original mermaids come from coral trees? Whatever that is. I think they can respawn, but as for their children, I've never heard of them incarnating."
All true Elfanians could trace their roots back to the great mother Elfania and her three original daughters, who made various Elven races: Nymph, Sylph, Ignis, Gnome, Undine, Mermaid and the Nacht. Despite their singular origin, elves' lifespans and appearances varied, even regionally. A nymph could live forever so long as their tree never fell, but a Nacht such as Mint would die of old age. She'd live longer than most humans, roughly two hundred years, though she didn't have to fear becoming too wrinkled.
"I wonder why the Great Mother didn't simply make us all nymphs," Mint pondered. "It's to my understanding, the great sisters are all Nymphs, but their children are so vastly different it's difficult to believe we all spawned from the same tree."
"Mother gave them the freedom to decide, is all. Perhaps she didn't want her children to grow stagnate. After all, we nymphs, as powerful as we are, are the fewest." Fauntheia smiled. "It's difficult to wage a war when it takes a hundred years to produce one Nymph, right?"
"I suppose it pays to be pragmatic." Mint couldn't recall from her rushed history lessons when Elfania decided to diversify her children, but knew it was around the time the three sister goddesses started butting heads. The fact her entire clan was created to be mass produced, but still better than humans, was disconcerting. "Even with that, we're still fighting defensively, no?"
Fauntheia huffed, clearly tiring of discussing world affairs. "We're neutral broadly speaking. We'll help the Solarians when it suits us and make peace with the Minervians if necessary. Mother's plan is to let both sides struggle against each other while securing her territory."
Elfanians countered Solarians, but Minervians countered Elfanians, while Solarians countered Minervians. Of the three factions, Elfania could tip the scales in either direction, and could end the war. In fact, if Elfania had aided Solaris at the start of the conflict, the war might not have even happened. However, when Solaris allowed her angels to choose sides at Minerva's taunting, the angels divided eventually between the three sisters, resulting in the gridlock of today. It was strange to think about, but Mint might not exist if the war had never happened.
"Enough of this," Fauntheia said tiredly. "Let us speak of something else. How are your lessons progressing?" She spoke several phrases of ancient Elven, all basic phrases. Mint replied promptly, though her pronunciation came with an accent. "You're doing well, a bit slow, but acceptable. You could hold an audience with one of the great sisters and not be embarrassed, at least."
"Thank you," Mint replied with a beaming smile. "Your Solarian has improved as well."
"That's to be expected; it was unused, not unknown." Fauntheia declared proudly. She jumped out of her chair with a devious look. "Since you're so determined to leave, there's a certain place I'd like to show you before you depart."
"It's not as if I'm leaving today, or even this week, right?" There was still a bit of time before spring came, but Fauntheia made a face while flicking her ears.
"You don't have as much time as you think, little sister." Fauntheia said as Verk entered the front door. He wore a complex expression as he shook the snow from his boots.
"Welcome back!" Mint rushed over and took his cloak. "Do you want some tea to warm up?"
Verk didn't answer straight away, instead fixing his silver-emerald gaze on her with a conflicted expression, until Fauntheia urged him to speak. He sighed and said, "In three days, an escort will arrive at the border of the forest to take you home. I suggest you prepare."
Mint's ears drooped at the news. She should be happy, emulated in fact. She could finally go home, and yet it was as if she'd been told her mother had died. "From which way to they travel? East or West?"
"West," Verk answered. "They fly the flag of Bellanyx, not Halifax."
So, her father came to find her after the winter. Did the goddess tell him of her survival? What of her engagement to the Halifax princess? She supposed she'd find out soon enough.
"I understand," she replied, hanging her head. In the corner of her eye, she saw Fauntheia give her a look, and for a moment she considered taking up the Nymph's offer to stay. Even as the thought arose, she quickly squashed it; she couldn't abandon her duties. She couldn't abandon her mother. However, if she could make one more selfish request. "Will you escort me?"
"Of course."