The Nymph curls up her small form besides the murmuring tongues of fire; all is dark and cold about her, and she trembles. She is afraid to fall asleep; nightmares chase her across the land of dreams, relentless in their pursuit. She is already struggling to endure the chase that plagues her during her waking hours.
Everything had changed so quickly, far too quickly for her to truly grasp what had happened. She and her many Sisters had supped in the heavens with the Gods and danced with Man upon the earth. They had an affinity and a deep love for all things of nature, and had also grown to care for humankind. They had bestowed many blessings upon them, enriching their harvests and purifying the waters of their lakes and rivers. Man had lifted their voice in celebration and thanksgiving to the Nymphs.
She looks mournfully into the flames that grant her warmth; fire had been a gift of Man to the Nymphs in exchange for all that she and her Sisters had done for them. They had accepted it with gladness. She would never have thought that that same gift would be used to destroy them. Man had turned against them with a cry of hatred upon their lips and her Sisters had fallen beneath their sudden rage.
The Nymph holds her knees tightly to her body and moves a little closer to the fire. She is so cold; she can pretend that she trembles merely because of it. But what use is there to hide her grief, and from whom does she hide it? She is the last of them. All of her Sisters are dead, and she is the only voice that is left. Man turned against them, seeking revenge, and the Gods had punished them severely for a crime she knew they did not commit.
She is so tired, and her body begs her to let it rest, tempting her with sleep. She has been running from the Gods and hiding from the eyes of Man. She finds herself in an abandoned Temple wrapped within the clouds high above their world, alone with her grief and terrible sorrow.
The Nymph was once one of seven sisters, and among their kind, they in particular had been revered for their beauty and gentleness. When she succumbs to temptation, she sees her last sister before her eyes. She sees her face fraught with fear and streaked with tears, and her eyes are frantic with panic.
"You must flee!" her sister tells her as she pushes her away, for the Gods have found their hiding place. But the Nymph could not abandon her last sister.
"You must!" she says even as the merciless Gods break through the barrier they had erected in a futile hope. "You must live, and find justice for your Sisters".
Her sister pushes her away once more, and the Nymph falls. She falls and as she does so, she hears the last cry of her sister as she bars the path of the Gods. As one moment transforms into another, she becomes the last of her kind, and she must run for dear life.
The Nymph pulls herself from the land of dreams with painful effort. She feels tears marking their familiar path along her cheeks, tastes their salt upon the corners of her lips. She does not know how to find justice; she is alone and terribly afraid, and all that remains of her Sisters are the nightmares that consume her when she sleeps. She fears what she will find when she wanders into the land of dreams; she fears that as she dwells there, those that hunt her will at last come to pull her life from her breast.
And so she does not sleep. The Nymph sidles closer to Man's flames as she clutches herself tightly, gazing mournfully into their depths.