Feather

He parted the reeds in front of him and winced when they made a slight crackle. But she was still there and he breathed a sigh of relief. His quads were slightly stiff but he knew that moving would attract attention to his position. Nearby a bird warbled and a frog plopped into the water. The moon broke into a thousand pieces and the night went on.

He could only see her figure from this distance and he doubted his friends would believe him if he could only describe how slim she was. How little they knew, how much he risked by even being here! This whole section was, about three hundred acres, off limits to men and he’d heard terribly gruesome tales of dark elves like him, being rebellious creatures by nature, gored by one horns who caught them in their territory. He shivered in the cool night air and hoped he could get close enough to the nymph to actually steal a kiss. Legend was that if he did she’d be his forever. But he wasn’t interested in that. No, if he could get close enough to steal a kiss he could get close enough to snatch a couple of hairs from her head. That would be proof enough to his friends if they didn’t believe he had entered the Sanctuary, proof though came at a very high risk. He’d be grateful if he didn’t lose his sight as other men nymphs and dryads met, tended to do...or were inclined to do.
Blind for the rest of his life...Was it worth it? He shrugged mentally and instead focused on the task at hand. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Unlike other elves his kind were made for the night. His speed and excellent vision made him the perfect hunter. He pulled off his shirt and boots and quietly slipped into the inky water. He almost gasped at the chill pervading his limbs and with a final breath he submerged himself completely.

The lake was incredibly clear like liquid glass. He disturbed a few fish and he thought he caught a glimpse of green eyes. He should be careful; this was Their territory after all. He heard singing but was able to ignore it scoffing at the idea that once upon a time their song could lead one to a watery grave. It became deeper the further he went out and he peered down at the darkness where the light didn’t penetrate. Wait, I take that back, he thought. I’ll be grateful if I get out of here alive.

He had seen the nymph near the opposite bank of a tiny island smack in the middle of the lake but the lake was very wide. As he surfaced for a lungful of refreshingly cool air he took a quick survey of where he was. She was still there, amazingly. She was deathly pale in the moonlight yet gave off an uncanny ethereal glow. He could only see the back of her, long silk blonde hair rippling down her back. She seemed to be humming. He would’ve sensed someone by now so why hadn’t she? Was he being led into a trap? He fumed. No, I refuse to carry on with this any longer. They can laugh at me all they want, but I can’t stand this fear. For he was scared, in fact terrified, although he hadn’t yet fully realised it...not till a translucent webbed hand suddenly grabbed his hair and tugged him beneath dragging him to that horrible everlasting dark. Musical laughter rang in his ears and clawed hands stroked his face trying to lull him into a false sense of security. He trashed however. Spells had no effect on dark elves and they soon realised it. So they drowned him slowly, painfully slowly and he watched the great maws of death open with relief.

Above the water, the humming stopped and a drop of the sea became mixed with the fresh water of the lake....
And the night went on.