Don't leave me. Not again.
Her decision to spend her first few weeks as a human with Sersi wasn’t one she regretted. At first, she had—when the guilt was still fresh and raw, clinging to her like an old wound that refused to heal. But a single conversation—one filled with tears, quiet confessions, and shuddering sobs—had changed everything. Sersi had listened, truly listened, and when Sprite had finally broken down, the older woman had only pulled her into a warm embrace. There had been no resentment, no anger, only the unwavering kindness that made Sersi who she was. It had been enough to convince Sprite to stay.
Today was the day Dane would visit. Ever since he had learned the truth about them, ever since the world had nearly ended and they had fought to stop it, it had become routine for him to check in on them from time to time. Sersi always welcomed him with a gentle smile, and though Sprite often pretended to be indifferent, she secretly appreciated his presence. It grounded Sersi. It made things feel just a little bit more normal.
They had decided to go for a walk in the nearby park, and Sprite had agreed to join them—though only because she had seen the way Sersi and Dane wouldn’t stop asking until she said yes. She kept some distance as they strolled, hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat, watching as Dane spoke softly to Sersi. From the way he leaned in, the way his brow furrowed in quiet contemplation, it was clear he still had questions—ones he likely didn’t know how to ask. Understandable.
The air carried the crisp bite of the approaching winter, the first true sign that the year was coming to an end. A chill seeped into Sprite’s bones, and she gave a small shiver before shaking it off. She wasn’t as resilient as she used to be. Not anymore. But that wasn’t what unsettled her.
It was something else.
Something was wrong.
Her body tensed, instincts sharper than they should have been. A lingering remnant of her past existence as an Eternal, perhaps. Her eyes swept her surroundings, searching. Everything looked normal—people walked past, leaves rustled in the wind, and up ahead, Sersi and Dane remained wrapped in their own little world. And yet, the unease clawed at her insides, a familiar dread creeping up her spine.
Then, she saw it.
For the briefest of moments, she thought she had imagined it—thought that maybe, just maybe, her powers hadn’t completely vanished when she turned mortal. Because as her gaze lifted to the sky, the clouds parted, peeling away like paper torn at the seams. And there, in the vastness beyond, stood a figure she once worshipped.
Her blood ran cold.
There was no time to think, no time to hesitate. Her body moved on instinct, ignoring the way the biting wind burned against her skin.
“Sersi!”
The name ripped out of her throat, sharp and desperate, the first word she had spoken since they had started their walk. She barely registered the startled reactions—the way both Sersi and Dane snapped their heads toward her.
Sersi was already moving, as if something inside her knew—knew that something was horribly, irreversibly wrong.
Their eyes met, locking in an unspoken exchange.
And in that fleeting second, Sprite knew Sersi understood.
She saw it reflected back at her—the same fear, the same silent plea.
Don’t leave me alone.
Sprite reached for her. Sersi reached back.
But before they could touch, before their fingers could so much as brush, Sersi was gone.
Vanished. Pulled away by something far beyond Sprite’s mortal reach.
And just like that, everything was normal again.
The sky was clear, the clouds undisturbed. There was no sign that Arishem had ever been there at all.
But he had. Sprite knew he had.
The world around her blurred as her knees buckled. She barely registered the impact as she hit the ground, the sharp jolt rattling through her bones. A distant, muffled ringing filled her ears, drowning out the noise around her.
Sersi was gone.