Ever since her creation, Doxa had been fascinated by the world she inhabited, and was born to protect. From the tallest Hyperions, cutting throught the white clouds in the sky, to the smallest daisy, growing between the green grass and the stones, the beauty of mother nature was astonishing. Every mossy surface, every rough patch of land, every colorful leaf and fungus, had its place and its importance. Nothing was too tall, too small; too strong or weak; everything fit perfectly in the place they laid or grew.  Even the animals, with their food chains and power dynamics, knew just how much they could take and let be, surving only with what they needed, not on what they wished for. 

The innate charm, elegance and intricacy of every dust and mountain was admirable, and holy. If only mortals could learn a thing or two from nature. Maybe they wouldn't waste their time searching for meaning and peace through words and rituals, and pointless traditions.

She had lived through these creatures called humans long enough. She had been there before they were created and after. She had seen the best that they could offer, and the worst.

Some of their traditions were gorgeous. Others, despicable. But after observing so many generations of men, women and other folk from afar, she had come to one conclusion about these people; all of the answers they looked for, were already in front of them, and they were clueless about their existence. 

The voice of the gods they prayed to hear, spoke louder in the silence of the plains. The meaning of their life was in living it, and that's all. Hell was a forest on flames. Heaven was the peace that reigned between the trees. Forgiveness and growth was found on the seeds of a fruit that had fallen from the branch, and had laid new roots on the ground, to stand up tall and strong in the near future. Grace and kindness was found in a dog saving a drowning deer from the freezing river. Faith was found in the bears hibernating through winter and patiently waiting for the arrival of spring. 

Nature held all the answers. There was no need to argue or to destruct. 

But humans begged to differ. They read and wrote about empathy, yet deceived their own kind, exhausted the resources that kept them alive. Broke, tarnished, killed and wrecked, everything and everyone.

As their empires, civilizations, creeds and techonology envolved and grew, so did their avarice and hunger for power. They no longer respected that which the gods had created and therefore, had lost respect for the gods themselves. They became myths, legends, shadows of the past.

Their Hubris led them to exile. The world Doxa knew to be bright and beautiful became a place of endless wars, famine, illness and pain. The winds switched directions, the ice melted into the ocean, the white coat of the mountains and the green veil of the hills were burned until the stone was bare, naked, devoid of any decency. They had robbed Gaia, in every way imaginable.

So of course, the nymph couldn't help but only feel hatred for humans. These mortals that believed to be greater than the cells in their bodies, the sky over their heads, and the planet that allowed to live.

And she had many enemies. Tourists that knew of the existence of trashcans and chose to poison the soil instead.  Politicians that refused to pass laws to protect the land they were supposed to take care of. Businessmen that put money over morals, gold over green, and murdered a billion lifeforms with an evil smile on their faces. 

And of course, hunters. Not those who killed to eat, and to survive, but those who killed to prove their dominance over the world, to prove their strenght and their courage, without a need to. These were the biggest assholes of humanity, in her humble opinion. They left cubs without their mothers, lakes without their fishes. The screaming of their rifles quieted down the beautiful songs of the birds up above. 

Doxa absolutely despised those idiotic morons. And everytime she could push them away from her territory - a huge, gorgeous forest that covered the feet of a mountain known as "Punta Blanca" or "White Peak"- she did. By throwing them into the river, making them slip on stones, sending foxes and wolves run at their direction while they weren't looking; her methods varied. And once cellphones and cameras became a common thing, she manipulated the energy of the devices to convice the mortals they were being "haunted" by a "wandering spirit".  She had so much fun seeing them run for their lives, that the other nymphs of the area also began to do the same. Soon, it became a group activity.

They knew some humans were very faithful to their personal beliefs, and for some reason, terrified of the forces of nature. They knew some of them were deeply afraid of witches and magic. So, they used that to their favor. Began dancing in the woods in circles, manipulated the elements to give them a scare, and laughed until their cheeks ached at their wild range of reactions.

More than one tried to shoot at them, without knowing their were personifications of nature, protectors of the land. A simple bullet couldn't kill them, neither could spears, swords, arrows, or anything made of physical matter. Whoever said the contrary, was lying. The only way a nymph could die, was by ruining the land she had been born into. Destroying her birthplace would also destroy her; they were both made of the same energy, and were connected by it. This is why they cared so much for the ecosystem; they literally couldn't live without it.

All of this said, it's understandable why even the most respectful of mortals made Daxa nervous. They were a threat even when they weren't. 

So, when she first saw a young man of golden hair and chubby complexion walking over the stones that hugged the Azurite river, her reaction was no different than the one elicited by any other human. She frowned, sharpened her gaze, and moved closer to the foreigner, ready for the surprise attack.

In his hands, he held a long, dark object she couldn't recognize at first. Daxa thought it was a gun, judging by the size, but was wrong; what the man actually held was a camera with a bulky zoom lens, used to take pictures of landscapes and wild animals. 

Using the roots of the trees nearby, she pushed the photographer into the water, and grabbed the device from his hands. The blonde fell with a yelp, and waved his arms around as if trying to hold onto thin air.

The current wasn't too strong, so he was able to stand back up with no problem - to her annoyance-. But, instead of complaining about the "accident", the man did something no other person had done before; he laughed at his supposed clumsiness and tried to get out of the water with a smile on his face, thanking the tree for having "save his camera".  He then removed the strap from the branch and laughed at nothing in particular as he walked away. 

Confused by his happiness and lightness, the nymph followed him as he returned to his campsite. He changed his clothes as she stared at his body from the distance. He wasn't very different from any other man she had seen around. But his attitude and personality definitely stood out from the rest.  Once dry and redressed, he grabbed his camera again and started to walk to the main trail. Gasped at the height of the trees, took photos of the birds, admired the mushrooms, the clouds, and the rays of sunlight cutting through the leafs. Didn't destroy a single thing, or robbed nature of something he didn't need. Simply photographed his surroundings, smiled at the sights he saw, and thanked the gods by being respectful to their creations.

For the first time, Daxa felt something other than annoyance at a mortal. For the first time, she took a liking to a human. So, she decided to help him as he explored the woods. Talked to the birds, and asked them to pose for his lenses. Spoke to the wolves, and convinced them to leave him alone. Even postponed the rain, so he could capture the honeyed fingers of the sun caressing the canopy up high. And her smile grew wider when she saw him lower his camera, taking in the beauty around him, and the peace present in the still air.

The days passed, and almost without noticing, she slowly fell in love with the man. He picked up a fallen hatchling from the ground and returned it to it's nest. Cleaned up the dirty trash left behind by some ignorant campers. Let a lost ladybug climb onto his finger, roam through his hand, and released it in the grass. Tossed a flying fish back into the river. Did things most humans never dared to. Taught her that not every single one of them were evil; that there still was some goodness in the world.

She knew that soon, he'd leave her land and go back into the greyness of the city. She knew that his presence wouldn't be everlasting; he had a life to attend to, somewhere else. So, before he went away for good, she brought him one finally gift for his good behaviour; a Cornucopia, made by her own hands, filled with fruits and vegetables. She left it next to his bag of equipment as the man slept, during the dead of night. And she at last learned his name, which written on a tag, attached to his camera strap. 

"Dave Wissen... Wilderness photographer."

She'd remember his name. She'd remember his face. And the next time he returned - because she had a feeling he would, soon enough- she'd be smiling at him behind the bushes and the trees, watching from afar.

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Author's note:  First and foremost, English is not my first language, so excuse me if I wrote something wrong. Second, I still hope you enjoyed the story and was entertained by it. If you want, leave a comment and a like/favorite. I appreciate your appreciation.