She shouldn’t have left him. Not with the questions, not with the sadness in his heart. She shouldn’t have allowed her emotions to sweep her from the coast, dissolving into the only thing that could give her the comfort she so desperately needed. In the end, she had done him wrong. Not the other way around. No matter how much she needed to free herself of the pain and torture, of knowing that she’d hurt Chenoan in the one way she never should have, she should have told him what he craved to know. Told him how she couldn’t control herself. Although she had yet to allow Vicious to touch her, to hold her… she wanted so much for him to. She wanted to feel his kiss, his touch. And what was worse, she still felt the same. And the fact that Vicious wasn’t Chenoan, she should have been more upset. In the moment however… who was holding her… making her feel like a woman, it didn’t matter.
Allowing the wind to blow her this way and that, her entire soul spanned out over acres of land, Nymphadora shed her silent tears as she became one with her element. Traveling over the spance of the coast, her direction haphazardly flitting toward the portal, the rate that she traveled increased in speed the closer she got. Brushing over trees, nearly knocking them down with the force of her gust, Nymphadora tried to force her thoughts from her mind. The harder she tried however, the more she thought about it. Over and over, the same thoughts rolled. Taunting her; sucking her further into recklessness.
Whooshing through the portal, her entire being sucking into the small vortex, Nymphadora made her way out through the other side, gusting through the underground market with such suddenness, chaos followed. Blowing over all the inhabitants, lifting skirts, knocking over bags, whipping up papers and weightless items. Within the brief moments it took her to spit out, then turn and go back through, her element had carried her over many bodies, and wind blown many merchant stands.
Finding herself once again sucking through the portal, her destination the only she could think would have the type of place suitable for someone like her, Nymphadora came out the other side, materializing into her flawless figure, collapsing on the soft grass beneath her.
Gazing back at the portal, her cheeks streaked with tears, her eyes blurry as more flowed, Nymphadora ignored the fact that her body was exposed. That her wings were freely showing, her skirt further up her thigh then publically acceptable. Disheveled and broken, she slowly lifted herself to her feet, looking away from the pain that was sure to follow her. She’d come here for a reason… come here, giving up all hope that she could be anything than what she was. Wasn’t that the point of life? The point behind what Xanth had told her long ago? Why be anyone you are not. She was a Nymph, and she wanted to be treated as such. Maybe her powers were better used being a siren of some sort. Maybe she could put her lust to some other use. But as of now, all she knew was that she was hurting someone dear to her, and she didn’t want to do it anymore. She wanted to let go… loose herself. Not be able to feel the pain growing within. And certainly not cause it for others. If she couldn’t love… and be loved, and solely embrace it, then she would at least allow herself the pleasures and others the pleasure of being with her. This brothel… was the only place left to go.
Finding herself down an alleyway, her body moving toward a place she didn’t even know existed, her hand slid across the grimy wall, supporting her body from its mindless stumble. Breathing slowly, her heart numbing the closer she got to her destination, Nymphadora closed her eyes, pausing as she felt a presence behind her. It didn’t matter who it was. It didn’t matter what they would do. She would allow them to hold her, and be with her, when she’d once only allow Chenoan.