As for me? Who was I?
Well . . . I was Liora Moonweil, a nymph.
And no, Liora wasn't even my real name. My actual nymph name sounded like someone sneezed mid-incantation and swallowed a pinecone. Completely unpronounceable.
So I stuck with Liora—it was easier on the tongue and a lot less embarrassing when introducing myself to mortals.
A nymph, by the way, was basically nature's part-time magical intern. Minor female deities from ancient Greek myths, we were tied to rivers, forests, winds, flowers—you name it. We weren't immortal like the big gods, but we lived long enough to develop strong opinions about trees, drama, and emotionally unstable mortals, including werewolves who couldn't chill.
People often thought we were graceful, enchanting, mysterious. Some stories had us helping heroes or falling in love with gods. Others had us cursing travelers for peeing on the wrong trees. Honestly? Both versions were accurate. It just depended on the mood.
