The stars continued to cast their soft light upon us. We returned to our spot and sat down in silence. The Sprite fluttered gently back onto my shoulder.

  Our fears still lingered, and our worries generally remained unresolved. A quiet unease about the future still plagued us. But somehow, it felt just a little different now—subtle, but undeniable. It wasn't enough to fix everything, not by a long shot, but I could sense the Sprite felt a little lighter.

  That had been my hope all along.

  I wasn’t some seasoned therapist, nor did I have the skill to wrap heavy truths in comforting words the way they could.

  It's not like I had the perfect words to say. I wasn't the type of person who could do this type of thing effortlessly. Most of what I said were rehashed words of encouragement that I copied from those who tried to help me before. Even back then, for the nobles, they weren't mine originally. These are all things that I've been told, and now I have repeat them back, even while knowing that mere words can't fix everything.

  But I could share my story.

  It wasn’t thrilling or particularly captivating, and it might even be boring in parts, but it was mine to tell. And if it could help the Sprite in any way, even just a little, then that was enough.

  It's all I can do.

  “You know, Sprite,” I said quietly, breaking the stillness. “About joining me on this journey-”

  She perked up slightly. “Yes?”

  “Even if none of this had happened, I would’ve said no.”

  “What? Why? Don’t you want a spirit?”

  I mean, I do, but-

  “You said it was your duty to mend the relationship between spirits and humans, right?”

  “Of course,” she replied with conviction.

  I took a breath, watching the sky for a moment before speaking again. “That’s not the real reason, though, is it?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “You want to travel with me because you want to see the world,” I said, turning to look at her. “Isn’t that true?”

  Her mouth opened slightly. “..........No, that’s not it,” she muttered after a pause, but her voice wasn’t confident.

  “I think that curiosity in you, the same curiosity you had as a little Sprite, never really went away. After everything that happened, you tried to bury it. Maybe you felt guilty, since you thought it was the cause behind everything.”

  She looked down, her hair falling like a curtain between us.

  “And now, maybe without even realizing it, you’ve hidden that same desire, your wish to explore, behind this noble purpose of reconciliation by taking responsibility.”

  For a long moment, she said nothing.

  I didn’t press her. I waited for her answer.

  “You may be right,” she admitted softly, turning her head toward me. “But even so, isn’t it the same for you? I just want to explore the world, just like you.”

  She admitted it. Good, but there’s one small issue. “Even if you understand that, I can’t become an adventurer right now. You have to be fourteen to become one. You’ll have to wait a few more years before we can actually leave.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She looked like she might melt into the ground from disappointment.

  “But,” I added, “I’ll say this: I’d be willing to take you with me if—”

  “If what?” she asked quickly, a spark of hope in her voice.

  “If you tell your sisters the truth first.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened in alarm. “I can’t do that! They’ll—”

  “They’ll hate you?” I finished for her.

  She froze. “........Yes.”

  I exhaled slowly. “Do you still want them to see you as the diligent, kind little Sprite?”

  A faint blush colored her cheeks. “N-no-not really…….well…….yes.”

  “You know, everyone messes up. We all make bad choices sometimes. It’s honestly a miracle that forgiveness even exists. If it didn’t, then, the world might have ended a long time ago.”

  But what is forgiveness, really?

  “If you leave before telling them the truth,” I continued, “don’t you think that they’ll have no choice but to forgive you?”

  She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it from their perspective. Our sister killed the human and lied about it. That's why we hate the human race. That’s why they hate us. But now she’s off traveling the world, trying to repair the relationship between our kinds. Even though she never told us, and that she never intended to, since she’s working so hard to make amends, it wouldn’t be right to be stuck up on it. We have to forgive her for lying to us all these years.” I turned to her. “Is that what you want?”

  She paused, the question sinking in. “No.”

  “Then stop lying to them. Let them forgive you on their terms. They deserve that much, don’t they? You can’t keep doing this to your own sisters.”

  Her hands gripped the hem of her tunic tightly. “But what if it’s too late? What if I’ve already gone too far? What’ll they think when they realize their supposedly perfect sister, the one who’s always kind, always calm and collected, isn’t actually like that” Her grip tightened. “What if they don’t like that? What if they become scared of me?” Her eyes shimmered, wet with tears again. “They might not even recognize me anymore.”

  It wasn’t wrong to think like this, but it also isn’t right.

  “I have a sister of my own,” I said quietly.

  “Really?” the Sprite asked, tilting her head slightly.

  “Her name’s Elaine. And she’s, well, she’s scary,” I replied matter-of-factly.

  “Scary?” she echoed.

  I thought back to all the times she’d beaten up Arthur.

  “You could call her a second mother. Elaine used to smack my brother Arthur every time he messed up, or, honestly, just whenever he irritated her. And trust me, that wasn’t hard. Arthur has a special talent for pushing buttons.”

  The Sprite let out a soft laugh. “He sounds like a handful.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded, smiling faintly. “He definitely is. I’m pretty sure he’s shaved a few years off her life already. She’s had to grow up fast because of it, much more than most people her age.”

  She glanced down, her hands nervously shaking. “Doesn’t she ever get tired of him?”

  “Tired?”

  “You said he ticks her off a lot. So, isn’t she usually angry with him?”

  “Hm. Kind of.” I shrugged. “Most of the time she’s actually pretty calm. But if Arthur’s in the picture and doing his usual chaos, yeah, she gets livid.”

  “Does she hate him?”

  “Probably,” I answered.

  She turned to me, startled. “Really?”

  “Well, she probably hates the way he rushes through chores and does things half-heartedly, like when he ‘washes’ the laundry but forgets the soap. I’m sure she hates how he interrupts class with his dumb jokes. She definitely hates how he tosses his clothes on the floor instead of putting them away. And in general, his constant chaos just kind of…….gnaws at her.”

  The Sprite dropped her gaze, voice almost a whisper. “Then—”

  “But you know,” I interrupted gently, “she doesn’t actually hate him.”

  She looked back up at me, her eyes wide. "How? Didn’t you just say all the reasons why she should?”

  I scratched my chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, but isn’t that just how families work? We irritate each other. We bicker. We race each other to the table in the morning and argue over who really won. Sure, we’re each other’s biggest headaches, but we’re also each other’s biggest supporters.” I smiled at the memory. “Whenever Arthur gets roped into a race, Elaine always threatens him beforehand: ‘You better win, or I’ll beat you into next week.’” I chuckled. “Arthur sulks when someone makes fun of his intelligence, but his whole face lights up when he teases Elaine. And the two of them? They beam like proud parents whenever I get a question right in class.” I let out a gentle sigh. “We may drive each other insane. And sure, sometimes it feels like we hate each other, but in the end, we still live together. We still eat, drink, and play together. From the moment we were born to now, we’ve done everything side by side. And somehow, through all the fights and frustrations, we still love each other. Because that’s what we are. A family.”

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  I turned to face her. “Do you really think your sisters are the kind of people who’d hate you over a single lie?”

  The Sprite closed her eyes, her expression softening. In her mind, she wandered back through the years, through all the laughter they’d shared, the races through flowered fields, the cold nights spent curled up together, and even the moments of fear and pain when they held each other’s hands in quiet reassurance, right up until the end. She opened her eyes with a faint, wistful smile. “No. They’re not. They’ll still love me, even if I did something so stupid.”

  I reached out and gently patted her head. “Families are like that.”

  I was thankful for my family here for numerous things, but this was a special reason. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have been capable of saying such comforting words of a family. If not for them, my words would have been different.

  She looked up at me. “Will they understand?”

  “That’s not something we get to know.”

  The Sprite wiped the tears from her cheeks, though her hands trembled just slightly. “Why?”

  “Hmm?”

  She looked at me again, her voice softer now. “Why are you helping me?”

  Why?

  I studied her for a moment. Her eyes, wide and bright, carried a weight far heavier than someone her size should bear. Her small hands fidgeted nervously, holding each other like she might slip away if she let go. She reacted the same way that she did upon seeing my eyelid trick. She was just like-

  “You remind me of someone.”

  “Who?”

  ……….Who?

  I found myself asking that same question.

  “I don’t know.”

  She seemed confused by my answer but turned away, sensing that it wasn’t her place to pry any further. “Anyway,” she said softly, “you’re right.”

  I watched her as her gaze swept across the sanctuary. I imagined she was recollecting one last time. Memories of her life here, of laughter with her siblings, quiet moments beneath the trees, and the unshakable bond they’d shared.

  She sank back onto the tree stump with a sigh. “I’ll tell them all tomorrow morning. I won’t run away.”

  “Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “You won’t try to sneak off the moment I’m gone?”

  She pouted, folding her arms. “Who do you take me for?”

  I leaned in and gave her cheek a teasing pinch.

  “Hey!” she swatted at me, indignant. “Who are you to play around with a spirit like that?”

  I began walking toward the entrance of the sanctuary. “My apologies. I shouldn’t bother a little child who’s trying to sleep. You’ve got a big day ahead of you, after all.”

  “A little child?” The Sprite sounded genuinely offended. “I’ve lived for hundreds of years! And never, never, have I met a human as audacious as you.”

  “Whatever,” I said with a grin. “Try to get some shuteye. You deserve it.” She continued to pout, her expression scrunched up in annoyance, but her eyelids grew heavier with each passing second.

  She couldn’t help but smile when she began to feel a familiar sensation overtaking her, one that she hadn’t felt in years.

  It didn’t take long, just a few minutes, before I heard the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing, the quietest little snore escaping as she drifted into sleep.

  Sweet dreams, little Sprite.

  As I let out a quick yawn of my own, I reached Shade. He was napping on the ground, his large form comforting to see. I smiled faintly and gave him a gentle pat.

  “Did you need something, Ms. Aelira?” I asked without turning.

  A quiet gasp came from a suspicious shape trying, and failing, to hide behind a tree. With a small sigh of defeat, the tall, graceful figure of the Fairy Mother stepped into full view. “I didn’t think you would notice me,” she said, clearing her throat.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  She straightened, folding her hands in front of her. “I wanted to thank you.”

  “Thank me?”

  She nodded slowly. “You reminded me what it means to be a mother. And more than that, you’ve brought my daughter back. You managed to pull her up from the depths of a burden that’s been drowning her for years.” She bowed her head. “You’ve done more for the spirits of this forest than I can ever repay.”

  Have I?

  “Hey,” I said.

  She looked up at me.

  “I tried to kill your daughters.”

  She froze, caught off guard. “Well, yes, but—”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen what else I’ve done in your forest.”

  She was silent.

  “You saw me mutilate that rat. You saw me summon a hawk to subdue the forest’s creatures without mercy. You saw me trap a wolf, tear it apart from the inside like some unnatural beast. And you saw how I tortured that orc until it died screaming.”

  Shade stirred as I roused him.

  “And you know,” I continued, “ that these summons of mine aren’t normal. They’re strange, unnatural, and terrifying. You know something’s off about them.”

  I placed a firm hand on Shade’s back. “So no. Just because I said a few kind words to your daughter and you, that doesn’t mean I’ve somehow become a hero. I meant to kill your daughters. I’ll continue ravaging the wildlife in your home. And I will become an adventurer, and your own daughter will be swept up by me.”

  I stepped closer, standing only a short distance from her. “Do not thank me.”

  We stood there, bathed in dim moonlight. The faint silver glow barely revealed our faces, but neither of us moved.

  After a long moment, she finally spoke. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Sabotage yourself.”

  ……………

  “You deliberately say things that tarnish your own reputation,” she said quietly. “Why? What do you gain from making everyone see you in such a negative light?” She stepped closer and lowered herself to my level, her eyes searching mine. “You did the same to my daughters,” she continued. “You had no intention of ever seeing them again, yet you made them believe you wanted more of them. Why?”

  I didn’t answer.

  She gently placed her hands on my shoulders. “Who are you trying to convince?” Her voice was soft. “Who is it that must believe you're unworthy?”

  I looked away. My gaze fell to the ground.

  It’s him.

  He only shows up when I try to be better. When I reach for something more. Though, I don’t know why he hadn’t appeared during my time with Aelira and the Sprite.

  ……....Maybe he knew. Maybe he understood that, if I was going to keep going, I needed to hear those words just as much as they did.

  I blinked in surprise as the Fairy Mother suddenly pulled me into a hug. “What—”

  “It’s okay,” she murmured. She held me close, her arms firm but gentle, just like my own mother.

  “You’ve endured more than anyone should,” she whispered. “You’ve had to do horrible things just to survive. You’ve been judged, hurt, and cast aside for things that were never your fault. But it’s okay.”

  What is?

  “You are not a terrible person.”

  I am.

  “And no, you’re not a saint.”

  Obviously not.

  “But you’re still a child.”

  …………..

  “You’ve been lost for so long,” she said, her voice breaking just slightly. “You’ve walked a path that wasn’t meant for you, for so long, you’ve started to believe it’s the only one you have. But it’s not. Now, you can choose. You can be something else.”

  ………….

  “You will be okay.”

  As much as I wanted to refute those words, I also hesitated since she was trying. They didn’t necessarily save me, but at least they didn’t put me off. Though, is this hug necessary? I’m not some crybaby kid……..Fine. If you really want to, then I’ll let you.

  I’ll let this hug slide.

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  It was time to return home.

  I recalled Shade, and Sys quietly flew to my shoulder.

  Aelira had offered to teleport me back.

  As she began preparing the spell, she gave me one last look, but then paused, hesitating.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Is it true?” she asked softly.

  I raised an eyebrow. “What is?”

  Her expression twisted. It was uneasy and conflicted. “Your reincarnation. And your deal with Death.”

  Ah.

  I gave a slow nod. “It’s true.”

  She let out a quiet sigh. “I am aware of reincarnation and parallel worlds,” she murmured. “But to be reincarnated into a different world, that is beyond even my understanding.” Her eyes met mine, filled with something between pity and reluctant acceptance. She tried to offer a reassuring smile. “I can’t clearly see your fate,” she said gently. “But I hope you will live a life that you can be proud of. Truly proud of. And-” she hesitated again, her voice dropping slightly, “I hope you’ll be ready when the time comes.”

  When the time comes..............to hold up my end of the deal. The moment when all of this would end. But—

  “Like I said,” I replied, voice steady, “it’s all true, however—” I locked eyes with her. “I’m not planning on becoming Death.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “Encounters like the orc, and this constant, gnawing feeling that I’ve been watched from the beginning.” I stared at the sky “I can’t shake the thought that all of this was orchestrated. That this reincarnation, this second life of mine, something I thought I had achieved with my own wit, was actually a scheme that a god had conjured.”

  A form of entertainment for some writer.

  “A scheme?”

  “No matter what I did,” I continued, “I couldn’t change fate. I couldn’t alter the world I was born into. I couldn’t decide how my life would unfold.” I glanced down at my hand, studying it as though it didn’t quite belong to me. “Maybe, maybe a god saw this. Maybe they heard my desperation, my cries for something different. So, they devised a ‘simple’ plan, a grand performance meant to entertain. A story about a dreaming boy, handed the illusion of choice, only to fall short and die before that dream even had a chance to breathe.”

  I clenched my fist. “And I was the star of that tragedy. The tragic protagonist that was doomed before the curtain even rose. But I understood what kind of tale it really was. It was a story without a hero. It was but a mere tale that offered only a pitiful boy, too weak to change anything.” My eyes narrowed. “So I made a decision. If I couldn’t be the strong hero that this story deserved, I’d be the villain. I’d go against the narrative. I’d kill the orc in a way so brutal, so revolting, that even the god who orchestrated it would flinch in horror. I’d make them watch as the so-called ‘pathetic boy’ refused to die. I’d force them to fear the very narrative they’d created.”

  I smiled. “Then I’d become stronger. Strong enough to make that god tremble, to make him regret ever casting me in this wretched play. Even if he sits safe behind the veil, as creator, as a viewer, I swear that I will reach him.”

  The Fairy Mother’s voice came soft, almost afraid. “Then what?”

  “I’ll kill him, but not before I drag him through every kind of torment I can conjure. I’ll break him using every ounce of power I’ve gained. I’ll let him live only so that he can rely on that small, flimsy hope that he made me rely on. And only then, when he’s fully broken, when he has suffered to the point of no return, will I grant him death. And once it’s done, I’ll tear down his system. I’ll destroy fate itself. I’ll change this broken world.”

  I’ve always wondered. Are you the god? Are you the one who’s been playing with me?

  If so, then I will get you. I will make you suffer. I will annihilate you.

  But if not, and you’re truly an invisible spectator……....someone who I can…......consider to be a friend-

  Then I will provide you with a great story.

  I looked at Aelira.

  Would she recoil? Would she see me as a monster?

  But her expression didn’t change. She looked at me, long and quiet, before speaking. “That’s a very tall goal.”

  I looked down. It was true. It was probably an impossible goal. “It is.”

  Then, unexpectedly, she reached for my hand.

  I blinked, startled by the warmth.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice sincere and tender. “I’m sorry you lived a life that brought you to this place. One so painful that it twisted your hope into vengeance. I can’t take that pain away-” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “But I will pray,” she murmured, “that the life you lead from now on will be full enough to keep you from that dangerous path.” Then, as soft light began to glow around her, she added, “And still, even after such a fulfilling life, if even in happiness you choose to rise against the fates and the gods, then, on behalf of the spirits, and as the Spirit Mother……..I wish you luck.”

  I didn’t have the chance to respond. A weight fell over me, warm and overwhelming. My limbs grew heavy. My eyes drifted shut.

  And sleep took me.