Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ikaris was watching her again.

There he stood, on the edge of the crowd, his bright eyes only for one particular woman. He was watching her with a rapture that could only be described as adoration, as if there was something to adore about someone dancing around with no-longer fresh flowers occasionally falling out of their braided hair.

Sprite herself didn’t have any flowers in her hair. She had claimed that it was too short to braid, though Sersi had still offered to try it. Sprite had refused, hoping that maybe Ikaris would offer to try braiding it but again, it was like Ikaris’s sole purpose in life was to watch Sersi be her beautiful perfect self.

So here Sprite was, with unbraided un-flowered hair, totally not watching Ikaris watching Sersi. Her arms were crossed tightly, if only to stop herself from transforming the remaining flowers in Sersi’s hair into vipers. Though even if Sersi was a gorgon suddenly, Sprite was certain that Ikaris would love her all the same.

Sersi noticed that Ikaris was standing by the sidelines and she went over, tugging at his hands while still swaying her hips to the music. Ikaris laughed and relented, following her to the centre of the dance floor.

Sprite twisted around to leave but she walked directly into Kingo.

“Excellent show as always!” Kingo boomed, slinging an arm over her shoulder.

Sprite glowered at him. If he noticed, he ignored it completely. Sprite wondered if instead of cosmic energy bullets, his gift was actually being incredibly annoying. She would have to ask Ajak to ask Arishem. Kingo continued talking, his voice much louder than Sprite cared for at the moment.

“I especially liked the part where the Great Icarus flew too close to the sun and shrivelled up and died. Nice touch.”

“Go away Kingo.” Sprite snapped.

Kingo flinched back from her dramatically. She pushed past him to go back to the Domo to wallow in her own angst but Kingo caught her arm and held her in place. Sprite fumed, raising her hand to conjure a particularly insulting illusion.

“I’m sorry.” Kingo said.

Sprite opened her mouth. Closed it again. Just when she went to open it again like some kind of fish out of water, Kingo let go of her.

“What for?” Sprite asked suspiciously. Maybe this was some elaborate trick, Kingo was definitely not as above pranks as he claimed to be. “What are you up to Kingo?”

“I’m not up to anything.” Kingo said and she almost believed him. “But I am truely sorry. I know how much Ikaris means to you, it isn’t fair to tease you.”

“Ikaris means nothing.” Sprite snarled.

When she shoved past him again, this time he didn’t fight it. She conjured an illusion easily, hiding herself from both Kingo’s eyes and everybody else. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, she was certain that if one more thing happened she was going to explode.

It hadn’t even been a particularly bad day, there hasn’t even been a Deviant attack for the past two weeks so she couldn’t even claim exhaustion from using her abilities too much. And yet all the same her entire body was buzzing with frustration and maybe even outright anger.

But what was she so angry about? Even after all this time, she couldn’t bring herself to actually hate Sersi. Sersi was so kind, so loving, it wasn’t her fault that Sprite was such a mess. And Kingo had just been teasing her, on any other day she could have just ignored his light jabs and maybe even given a few of her own.

But something about Kingo being so sincere in his apology, as if he actually understood what it was like to be eternally trapped in a body that would never grow, as if he knew just how desperate she was to be just like the rest of them.

Sprite wasn’t a kid. She wasn’t even a human. But she looked like a kid. And that meant that everybody treated her like a kid. And that also meant that no matter what she did, she was always doing something wrong.

Sprite don’t touch that.

Everybody, protect Sprite.

Sprite, you’ve grown all of no inches. How cute.

It was constant. She was the same as all the other Eternals, she could do incredible things that humans could only dream of. If they only would give her a chance, if Ika- that is everybody- only saw her as more than just some kid in need of protecting.

Kingo had looked at her in pity. He thought it was sad that she yearned for Ikaris’ attention.

Sprite didn’t want pity. She wanted to scream. She was shaking by the time she got back to the Domo. Forcing back tears, Sprite let the invisibility illusion fall. She felt pathetic, brought to near tears over absolutely nothing.

Like some ridiculous child.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be back so early.”

Sprite whipped around, her heart exploding against her chest.

Ajak was standing there, her hands raised in a peace offering. She was smiling, that beautiful smile that normally made everything feel better. But right now that smile just made Sprite realise that Ajak was treating her like some infantile in need of a mothers love. It was all too much.

“I’m not a kid!” Sprite screamed, clutching her head.

“I never said you were.” Ajak said calmly. “Is everything alright, Sweetheart?”

“Don’t call me that!”Sprite shoved past Ajak, forcing down her disgust at her own actions. She should apologise, explain that right now everything was just too much, but Sprite couldn’t admit that to Ajak. She couldn’t let Ajak see just how much she was struggling with an overwhelming anger that she couldn’t even place. Sprite couldn’t let anyone see just how pathetic she really was.

“Sprite, I-“

But Sprite didn’t stay, no, couldn’t stay, to hear what Ajak had to say. She surged towards her room but then remembered that her bedroom was too close to Phastos’ lab. She knew that he hadn’t gone to the festival, he had been too distracted with his inventions like always, and while she could listen to him ramble all day most days, even thinking about Phastos seeing her like this made her change trajectories.

She had already yelled at Kingo and Ajak. They had finally seen her for what she truely was, she couldn't let Phastos see how pathetic she was too. So Sprite went the only place she knew nobody would go looking for her; the roof of the Domo.

Sprite was still shaking when she got there, her mind still reeling even when she brought her knees close to her chest and buried her head into them, desperate to shut out the world.

She could no longer hold back the tears and her entire body was racked by sobs. She choked back a cough, barely able to breathe through all the tears. Nausea rolled in her stomach but she forced it down. She already felt disgusting, she really didn’t want to add throwing up into the mix.

The seconds dragged on like hours and yet suddenly it was sunrise and Sprite was exhausted.

She must have cried herself to sleep, she realised dully. It was only by some miracle that none of the Eternals had come up here while she had slept, she wasn’t able to uphold illusions when she was unconscious and so they would have been able to see her clear as day. And Arishem knows she couldn’t let them see her like that, so vulnerable. So like the child she was so desperate to prove that she wasn’t.

Sprite dragged a hand down her face.

She should try to sneak into her room, get some actual sleep. She was feeling a little better now, a little more with it despite her exhaustion. It felt stupid to think back to her meltdown now, because that was the only way to describe it. A meltdown. A part of her having always been aware of just how ridiculous it was to cry over literally nothing and yet the rest of her had been unable to regulate her emotions.

Gilgamesh would probably joke that she was so small that she could only feel one emotion at a time but the truth was she had been feeling overwhelmed for a while now. And everything had come to a head simply because she was a little jealous of Sersi. Really, it was laughable just how stupid Sprite had been.

Stretching out her sore body, Sprite heard something. She froze, summoning an illusion of invisibility over her.

But no Eternal popped their head up to the roof. They were probably all still asleep, recovering from the alcohol they wouldn’t let her try. She was alone.

There was that sound again. A creaking, louder than just the wind in the trees. She should tell somebody, there might be a Deviant around. Or she might just still be overreacting. It was most likely nothing. If she woke them up because of some creaking trees, they would never let her live it down.

Creak.

Creak.

Creak.

Snap!

Sprite felt panic surge through her as she finally spotted what had made the noises. There was a Deviant, the largest she had ever seen, and it had felled a tree in an attempt to get to some sort of animal. From this far away she couldn’t see what animal it was, she could only tell that the Deviant had succeeded.

She needed to get Gilgamesh. He could beat the Deviant easily.

But Gilgamesh would be asleep, probably for the next few days as he recovered from the alcohol he wouldn’t let her try. Thena would be in the same boat, Sprite had seen the two of them go drink for drink before she had stormed off, who knows how much they had after that point. Sprite couldn’t dare bring herself to face Sersi or even Ikaris right now and while she loved Phastos dearly his abilities weren’t exactly the most useful in the heat of battle.

Druig wouldn’t be able to do much either, while he was incredible when it came to influencing the minds of humans, those abilities didn’t affect Deviants or Eternals.

Makkari might help her. But what if Makkari saw her the same way that Ajak did? Like a young child to be protected. A ‘Sweetheart’ that had no place on a battlefield.

Which only left Kingo. But Sprite still remembered vividly that look of pity he had given her at the party.

No.

Sprite could do this alone. She had to do this alone, to prove to both them and herself that she wasn’t some weak human child. Sprite was an Eternal. Her entire existence was to destroy Deviants and allow Humans to develop physically and culturally. This monster was not only a Deviant, but it was also close to a human settlement so it was her duty to go fight it. And besides, defeating a huge rogue Deviant by herself was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate just how powerful she could be.

Sprite climbed down from the Domo, picking her way quickly but quietly through the forrest, towards the beast. The Deviant was halfway between the ship and the settlement, still feasting on his prize, just far enough from both of them that nobody seemed to notice the threat.

Ducking behind another tree, Sprite conjured a perfect replica of herself, twisting her wrist to make the illusion walk towards the Deviant.

The beast lifted its head from its meal, red blood dripping down from its mouth. Sprite tried not to flinch. She had seen blood before. This is fine. She’s perfectly fine, the Deviant hadn’t even noticed her illusion yet, it had no way of knowing that she was there.

The Deviant stilled.

Sprite forced her heart to steady.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The Deviant was more than four times her size. It could eat her whole in a single bite, it had only been grazing on its current meal right now out of sheer boredom. There was so much blood already, Sprite didn’t want to add to it.

The Deviant sniffed the air, looking all around. Its eyes latched onto Sprite’s replica and the horrid beast reared up with a roar. It surged towards Sprite and tackled Sprite’s replica to the ground. Except Sprite’s illusions weren't corporeal and so instead of colliding with the doppleganger the Deviant stumbled over its own feet, tumbling to the ground with a thud that shook Sprite to her core.

The Deviant scrambled up in an instant, outraged that its newest victim had disappeared.

Sprite turned to run but she was suddenly on the ground, unable to breathe. She flipped herself over so that she was laying on her back, the Deviant’s bloodied teeth inches away from her face. Sprite panicked and lashed out, her fist colliding with the beasts jaw.

The Deviant was so confused that its prey had tried to fight back that it hesitated for a single moment. Spurned on by that small victory, Sprite kicked out her legs as hard as she could. She couldn’t even relish in the scream the Deviant gave off, too busy scrambling away from the beast, knowing that at any moment she could be dead, torn apart with nobody around to save her.

The Deviant recovered quickly and lunged at her again but Sprite threw herself to the other side, conjuring a new illusion of herself.

The replica taunted the Deviant and as the beast launched itself at the illusion, Sprite made another. And another. And another. Soon a hundred identical Sprite’s circled the Deviant and it seemed to be overwhelmed by how many would-be-victims there were, unable to decide which to attack first.

Conjuring illusions was as natural as breathing for Sprite and she felt truely herself for the first time in a long time as she corralled the Deviant close to the tree that it had felled not ten minutes before by using her own replicas as bait.
The bait worked and since she had hidden the trees very sharp stump with a cloak of invisibility, the Deviant hadn’t noticed the stump until it had already tripped over it and impaled itself onto the sharp wood. The Deviant screamed, lashing out its mighty claws and tail in one final attempt to get its quarry. But then the beast slumped.

Sprite just stood there for a long moment, too scared to move in case the Deviant wasn’t really dead. But the seconds dragged by and the beast remained still. She stepped forward. Nudged the Deviant with her foot.

Despite herself Sprite laughed.

If only the others could see her know, they would know that she was just as incredible as all of them. She had killed not only the biggest Deviant she had ever seen, but she had done it by herself and by her own merit. She wasn’t some pathetic child that needed to be pitied. She was an Eternal. She should go tell the others, show them just how capable she really was.

But when she took that first step back towards the Domo, Sprite’s breath caught.
She swayed.

Sprite pressed a hand to her side. She didn’t feel any pain but when she pulled her hand away and glanced at it, it was covered in the same red that had stained the Deviant’s teeth. Except this blood wasn’t from the beasts’ last meal. This blood was her own and it seeped through her fingertips even when she pressed her shaking hand back to her ravaged skin.

Sprite forced back the rising nausea.

While she couldn’t yet feel much pain from her wound, she knew instinctively that it was deep, like a stab wound to the gut. She racked her brain to remember when she had gotten hurt but she couldn’t think clearly through the growing fuzziness.

“Fuck.” Sprite whispered.

This was bad.

She couldn’t let the others see her like this. Any victory points earned by defeating a Deviant by herself would be relinquished the moment they knew she had been injured doing so. Ajak would furious with her and Druig would have a field day making fun of her for being so impulsively stupid. Sersi would probably never let Sprite out of her sight again, like some hyperactive toddler, and Ikaris… Ikaris would finally know just how pathetic she really was.

Conjuring illusions was as natural as breathing for Sprite. So while it was actually a little hard to breathe right now, she felt confident that she could summon a false image of her being perfectly fine long enough to sneak back onto the Domo where she could find a way to fix her injury without anybody noticing.

One hand still pressed to her side, Sprite held up her other hand and twisted her wrist. Tendrils of golden light played at her fingertips and the disgusting red finally faded and disappeared. The teal of her armour gleamed in the sunlight and Sprite stepped forwards.

Her knees buckled.

Sprite bit back a cry as the pain that had so far been blissfully absent washed over her all at once. Still on the ground, Sprite curled up into a ball, her eyes squeezed shut as she was overtaken by agony. Her entire body was shaking, too many sensations firing in her brain all at the same time, her vision going white.

She forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to ground herself back in the real world. Slowly, so slowly, Sprite pulled away from her protective ball and tried to sit up. But the pain only worsened and when Sprite blinked she was laying on her back and there was an acidic taste in her mouth and Sprite wondered when she had thrown up.

Then, she realised much too slowly, that she had actually somehow passed out. The sun was now high above her, almost noon. Even if the other Eternals had had a long night, it would only be a matter of time before they went towards the human settlement and found her laying in not only her own blood but her own sick too.

A gentle prod to her side was proof that her wound hadn’t magically healed itself and new pain threatened to overwhelm her once more.

No. She couldn’t pass out again. If she did, she might never wake up again.

Sprite knew instinctively that she had already lost too much blood, her armour now more red than teal. But she couldn’t just give up. She still had to get to the Domo, now, without anybody noticing. Surely she could find something in Phasto’s lab that would heal her without having to go to Ajak with her tail between her legs because she had been stupid enough to think she could take on a Deviant by herself.

She could do this. All she had to do was stand up, form an illusion of perfect wellness, and stroll onto the Domo with all the confidence she had. You could never stop a person with a purpose. Unless you were Kingo. Kingo would stop a person with a purpose. He was very good at appearing out of nowhere and distracting you from whatever purpose you-

Focus Sprite!

With one hand still pressed to her side, Sprite summoned cosmic energy with the other, weaving it into a false image. A simple illusion, just enough to hide all the blood and cover the deep stab wound that was making her entire body feel like it was on fire.

When her armour was finally teal once more, no sign of that disgusting red, Sprite took another moment to steady herself before she tried to stand. But when she finally did she had to bite back a sob, the illusion faltering as she pulled at her wound. She fixed the illusion, knowing that hiding the injury was paramount.

She stepped forward. Sprite’s world tilted. She let the illusion fall completely, needing all her strength just to stay conscious. She breathed through the pain, forcing back the blurs, until it finally seemed to ebb a little and she could actually think again.

The Domo wasn’t too far away, only far enough that hopefully nobody would have heard the fight. She could make it that far. She had to make it that far.

Her hand shook as golden light played at her fingertips. She was okay. Everything was okay. She wasn’t injured, she was perfectly fine. But even as her wound disappeared again, hidden by a perfect false image, she could still feel the pain and it was somehow getting worse.

The first step was pure agony.

Sprite nearly collapsed all over again but she took another step anyway. A step closer to the Domo was a step closer to not dying. And as much as Sprite needed to prove to the others just how capable she was, she really didn’t want to die in the process. So after she took a second to just stand there on shaking legs, she took another step. And another.

After a while it was almost like her feet were moving themselves, her mind wondering between awareness and the darkness. She dully realised that the pain had faded to almost manageable. But when she glanced down, she realised that the illusion had dispelled itself. Sprite reinforced itself, her eyes squeezing shut as she forced back a whimper.

She couldn’t let them see. See the blood, see the weakness. It was just a little further, she was almost at the Domo now, she just had to maintain an illusion long enough to sneak aboard and then everything would be fine.

The pain began to fade, her body trying so hard to keep up the false image that it had given up on screaming at her for all of five minutes. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, maybe her wound wasn’t actually that severe and she had simply overreacted just like she overreacted at the party.

But when the Domo came into full view, the pain exploded again.

Sprite stumbled, barely bracing herself against a tree before she threw up. Even after she brought up what little remained of dinner from the night before, her body heaved. Again and again, every dry reach pulling at her wound and making her want to scream. When her stomach finally realised there was nothing left to throw up, she was left shaking, gripping onto the tree as her one and only lifeline.

She knew that the illusion had disappeared again but she simply couldn’t bring herself to care. Her strength was depleted, it was all she could do to just stay awake at all let alone try to maintain an image. Even now, she felt herself fading in and out consciousness and she rested her head against the tree.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give into the darkness. She was so tired. The pain was too much. She should just give in.

But then Sprite heard voices.

Her head jerked up, her vision exploding and new nausea rose up but she forced herself to ignore it. She knew those voices, had heard them a million times over. Sersi, with her gentle lovely voice that always seemed to add a spark of intelligence to whatever she said, and Ikaris who's voice sounded like home, his accent strengthening as he teased Sersi. Sersi in turn laughed, nudging at Ikaris’s shoulder and he gave her that stupid smile that Sprite would have given anything to receive.

The two of them had come out of the Domo and they were now walking towards her, too caught up in each other to have noticed her yet. But they would see her soon. And she couldn’t let them see just how weak and pathetic she was.

Sprite considered conjuring an illusion of invisibility but she knew she simply didn’t have the strength right now. So with her back still braced against the tree, she channeled all her remaining energy into recasting the illusion that she was perfectly uninjured, her teal armour shining.

“Hey Sprite.” Sersi greeted warmly. “What are you doing out here alone?”

“I, uh,” Sprite heard the crack in her own voice and she cleared her throat. “I was appreciating the view.”

Ikaris and Sersi exchanged a look. Sprite almost swore, thinking they had somehow seen through her illusion but when she glanced down she didn’t see any red. Ikaris chuckled and Sersi nudged his shoulder.

“I didn’t think you were one for nice views.” Ikaris said.

“Forests can be interesting.” Sprite defended.

“Interesting when you set up whatever trick you are planning perhaps.” Ikaris said with that damned smile. “Well, good luck with it. Let me know how it goes, especially if you’re pranking Druig.

Sprite didn’t deny Ikaris’ line of thinking, too busy remembering having finally earned that beautiful perfect smile. Beside, it was better for Ikaris and Sersi to assume she was up to no good instead of attempting to hide that she was probably dying. Oh Arishem. What if she was dying? What if the wound was actually that bad and she had already lost too much blood and she was going to die and she would never see the other Eternals again and she-

“Sprite?” Sersi prompted. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Sprite forced out.

But Sersi didn’t seem convinced. She was frowning, her head tilted to the side.

“You looked a little out of it just then.” Sersi said. “Have you been sleeping enough?”

Sprite forced herself to stand straight, barely keeping herself from doubling over as the pain reached a fever pitch.

“I’m fine, Sersi.” Sprite snapped. “Go on and do whatever gross things that couples do.”

When Sersi opened her mouth to say something more, Ikaris hooked his arm into hers and Sersi looked up at him with a warm smile. Sprite felt a new deeper hurt but she forced that down too. She really didn’t have the energy for petty jealously right now. The sooner Ikaris and Sersi left, the sooner she could sneak into Phastos’ lab and fix this.

“Okay,” Sersi finally said. “I guess we’ll see you later then.”

Sprite gave a mocking wave, one that she hid the moment she noticed her hand was shaking.
Ikaris and Sersi finally turned to continue deeper into the forest and Sprite could finally breathe again.

Two Eternals down, she only had to convince seven more. Or, better yet, none of them would even notice her returning. If she was lucky, Ajak may have finally convinced Phastos to venture out of his lab to explore the wider world and the others would also be off doing their own things, paying no mind to a certain young-looking girl who was definitely not currently bleeding out. Makkari and Druig would be dancing around each other in a way that most definitely flirting, and Kingo would be getting what he dubbed as his ‘beauty sleep’, despite the fact that the appearance of an Eternal never actually changed.

A fact of which she was very much aware of at all times.

This would be easy. But as soon as she was moving again the pain that had been ebbing came back in full force and she felt her illusion fall all over again, revealing the deep wound. Sprite gritted her teeth, pressing harder against it and barely holding back a sob.

Ikaris and Sersi were still close, they would hear her if she didn’t quiet down. Then illusion or not, they would know that something was wrong. So Sprite forced herself to keep moving, feeling her power splutter as she tried to reform the disguise over and over and over again. But her strength was waning and she knew it. She could barely see now, blinking back blurs. She stumbled onwards, at last reaching the Domo. She had to take a moment to steady herself, taking a deep breath. Sprite moaned, squeezing her eyes shut as her pain skyrocketed, having pulled at her wound too much.

The pain fizzled into almost numbness and Sprite steeled herself to start moving again.

The first hallway of the Domo was miraculously empty but when she went to turn the corner towards Phastos’ lab, she heard new voices. These ones were just as familiar as Ikaris and Sersi’s though she had hoped that these particular people had still been sleeping off last nights festivities. Sprite didn’t even need to look down to see that her illusion had failed again, the blood flowing freely, she could feel the lack of her ability. Twisting her hand, she summoned the last of her power.

The red flickered back to teal. Then red again. Then teal.

“Oh, hey Kid!” Gilgamesh boomed.

“I’m not a kid…” Sprite mumbled, barely hearing her own weak voice.

If Gilgamesh had heard her, he ignored it completely as he continued on.

“Thena and I are going to spar outside. Would you like to join us?”

“What Gilgamesh means to say,” Thena’s interrupted before Sprite could reply. “Is that he can’t beat me without your illusions.”

“Even with Sprite,” Gilgamesh said. “Nobody could ever defeat the mighty Thena!”

Gilgamesh looked up at the tall woman with what could only be considered adoring eyes. Thena in turn was smiling at him, her own eyes glittering with fiery spirit. Sprite would have gagged if she didn’t think it would make her actually throw up.

Sprite could feel her power waning. She needed to get away from them without them seeing the truth. If Gilgamesh and Thena knew just how weak she was, they would never again ask to spar with her. Worse still, they might no longer tell her all the tales of great warriors they met around the world. No. She couldn’t let them see.

“Maybe later.” Sprite said. “I’ve got a trick I was wanting to try on Kingo.”

While Gilgamesh laughed heartily, Thena was frowning. Thena stalked towards Sprite and Sprite stumbled back, gasping when her back hit the wall.

“Who did this to you?” Thena snarled.

Sprite glanced down, expecting to see that her latest illusion had faded to nothingness but by some miracle she didn’t see any blood. There was no wound either, just a teal suit.

“Sprite.” Thena’s eyes flared with anger. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sprite said, hoping they wouldn’t hear the tremble in her voice.

Thena reached her hand towards Sprite’s face, running a finger just under her right eye. Sprite forced down her growing panic.

“You’ve been crying. Who do I have to kill?”

Sprite twisted her hand, conjuring away the remnants of tears. She had been stupid not to hide them sooner.

“Sprite!” Gilgamesh cried suddenly, surging towards her.

This time when Sprite looked down, all she could see was red. In trying to hide her tears, she had instead revealed her injury. She had let them see.

“Oh.” Sprite whispered.

Her knees buckled.

Sprite barely felt Thena catch her, only sluggishly realised that she was now sitting on the ground, her back against the wall. Sprite’s head lulled, the blurs of Thena and Gilgamesh blending into one. One of them was shouting, she dimly realised. Were they angry with her? Were they screaming that she was just as useless as they had thought, furious with her for keeping them from their sparring session?

She tried to apologise but the words were garbled, even to her own ears. While it had been the pain and weakness that had brought her down, she could only feel the latter now. The pain had faded away, replaced with an empty void instead. A darkness that sapped her of what little strength she had left.

Was this what death was like for an Eternal? An endless abyss with no suffering but equally with no happiness?

Would the others even mourn her, an immortal soul gone too soon, or would they just thank Arishem that they no longer had to tolerate her? Sprite was going to die on floor of the Domo and they would all be happier for it.

No, wait a moment, she wasn’t on the floor anymore, she was in somebodies arms.

She wanted to pull away, try to convince them that the wound really wasn’t that bad and she wasn’t some pathetic child who needed protecting, that she would try to do better, that she would try to mature the way they wanted her to. But then she smelled freshly baked bread and her whole body loosened at the familiar scent of home, all thought of fighting back vanquished.

Sprite let the endless abyss claim her.

Chapter Text

Gilgamesh’s mind was reeling.

Just moments ago he had been looking forward to sparring with Thena but now he was running through the halls of the Domo, holding onto a bleeding Sprite. Thena was close at his heel and when he glanced back at her she looked just as shocked as he was.

For a little while it had been like Sprite was still awake, if a little out of it. But then she slumped fully unconscious, her head lulled against his chest. When he looked down, she seemed so small, so vulnerable. She was an Eternal same as him and yet there was something about her that made him always worry for her.

Those concerns were usually unfounded; he knew implicitly Sprite could handle herself just fine. Sprite was brilliant, constantly thinking on her feet, always able to tell the exact story the humans needed to hear or form the exact illusion that the Deviants needed to see. But here she was covered in her own blood from a wound that Gilgamesh hadn’t even noticed until it was too late.

He hadn’t been there to protect her. He had failed her.

Gilgamesh’s powers were meant for destruction, not healing. His strength could do nothing to help Sprite when she needed him the most and that weakness tore a hole through his heart. He ran faster, cursing his own uselessness, coming ever closer to Phastos’ lab.

Ordinarily he would have made a bee line to Ajak but just a few minutes earlier the leader of the group and, more importantly their only healer, had taken Makkari to a far off human settlement and wouldn’t be back four hours. Without Makkari, they had no quick way of contacting Ajak to beg her to return in time.

Phastos was Sprite’s only option.

Gilgamesh surged into Phastos’ lab, holding Sprite tightly. He could see that Phastos was about to complain about the intrusion, he never did like the others interrupting his inventing time, but whatever Phastos was working on was abandoned the moment his eyes locked onto Sprite.

“Put her down here.” Phastos said.

Even when Phastos cleared away the mess that had taken up the table of stone to the side of the lab, gesturing where to lay her, Gilgamesh didn’t want to let go. If he let go then he wouldn’t be able to protect her from any more pain. If he let go it would be admitting that his strength alone wasn’t enough to keep those he loved safe. If he let go, she could die and it would all be his fault.

But if he didn’t allow Phastos to do what he had to then Sprite was going to die anyway.

Gilgamesh eased Sprite onto the stone table, careful with her head. His concern grew tenfold when she didn’t so much as stir. Given her injury, movement like that should have caused her instance pain and yet her mind was locked in unconsciousness. This was even worse than he had first thought.

“What happened?” Phastos asked.

“We don’t know.” Thena answered. “The little brat was using her ability to hide it.”

Though Thena looked furious, Gilgamesh knew that she was feeling just as useless as he was and was depending on her anger as a crutch to not let herself feel the shame. He would have to check on her later to make sure she was okay but right now the priority was stabilising Sprite. And until Sprite was stabilised, he would just have to put aside his own feeling of uselessness.

“Sprite,” Phastos said, taking one of her pale hands into his own. “Sprite, can you hear me?”

Just as Gilgamesh had feared would be the case, Sprite didn’t respond. Her skin looked wrong and the only hint that she was even still alive was the slow, shallow breathes that occasionally hitched. Gilgamesh couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, needing to know that those breathes didn’t stop. Sprite couldn’t die. He refused to let her die.

“Gil,” Phastos said. “I need you to hold pressure. As hard as you can, even if she fights. Do you understand?”

Gilgamesh didn’t reply, still watching Sprite intently. Rise. Fall. Rise. Fall. Gilgamesh didn’t know when he himself started to feel a little out of it. But his vision was tunnelling, all his focus on Sprite’s breathing. His heart panged as her breathing suddenly hitched again and her body twitched the flash of pain so strong even when she was unconscious.

“Gilgamesh.” Thena’s voice cut in. His eyes snapped up to her. “Hold pressure.”

He didn’t want to do this. He wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted Sprite to be her mischievous self again, devising a prank against whoever she had chosen was next. But things wasn’t normal. She was bleeding out. He had to help her. He forced himself to blink, bringing his own awareness fully back to the presence.

Gilgamesh pressed his large hands against Sprite’s wound and she screamed.

Sprite’s eyes had snapped open and she tried to vault up and away from them but Gilgamesh just pressed harder, feeling blood seep between his fingers. Thena had rushed forward to hold Sprite’s shoulders down as Phastos had begun conjuring something out of cosmic energy.

“It’s okay Sprite… It’s going to be okay…” Gilgamesh said, hearing his own voice shake.

Sprite was sobbing, weak hands trying to push his hands away. She twisted her wrist and Sprite disappeared but he could still feel her torn flesh beneath him. The illusion flickered and failed and Sprite reappeared, looking weaker than ever.

“Conserve you strength.” He said.

“Get… Off…” Sprite slurred, her eyes dulling.

Thena brushed sweaty hair from the girls face, succeeding in bringing a little bit of her awareness back. Sprite blinked, her gaze swapping between the three of them. One of Sprite’s hands had gripped Gilgamesh’s wrist while the other hung limply by her side.

“Get off…” Sprite said, a little stronger this time. “Please… It hurts…”

“I know,” Gilgamesh said. “I know it hurts but just hold on.”

Sprite moaned, her whole body trembling from what must be excruciating pain. Sprite was so small, and now looked smaller than ever on this table. She didn’t have much more blood left to lose.

“Phastos, what’s taking so long?” Thena demanded.

“This isn’t exactly easy.” Phastos barked back, focused on twisting metallic pieces floating in front of him. “Ajak hasn’t let me explore much in way of medical treatment yet, I’m making this up as I go.”

Sprite seemed to be fading again, her usually bright mischievous eyes little more than dull orbs blinking sluggishly. But Gilgamesh was still holding down onto her wound, in fact there was barely any life-force draining out of her through his fingers now, so surely her blood pressure had stabilised at least a little bit.

Gilgamesh’s own blood ran cold as he realised the connotations. If Sprite’s heart didn’t have any blood left to pump then her heart was going to stop pumping. No. Sprite couldn’t die, not like this. She was an Eternal, functionally immortal. Hundreds of years could pass in a blink of an eye, and yet her youthful face and her youthful spirit had never changed.

She couldn’t die. Gilgamesh would not, could not, let her die.

At last Phastos seemed satisfied with whatever he had created. He stepped towards Gilgamesh.

“When I say go,” Phastos said. “I need you to let go.”

“No.” Gilgamesh said.

If he let go, she would die. Sprite can’t die.

“My Love,” Thena set a hand on his shoulder, using an endearment he usually used for her. “Trust Phastos. Everything will be okay.”

How her anger had changed so swiftly to kindness and understanding, Gilgamesh had no idea. It was something he loved about her, her compassion and passion in equal parts. But she was asking him to do something he wasn’t willing to do. The only reason why Sprite was still breathing, why she was still alive at all, was because he was holding pressure on her mortal wound.

His hands were shaking, he dimly registered. He was going into shock. On any other day he would be embarrassed, he would joke that his body was having a stupid reaction to adrenaline without being the one injured. But right now Gilgamesh didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed, he just pressed down harder onto Sprite’s abdomen.

Sprite cried out, her body arching below him.

Gilgamesh panicked, hating to have caused her more pain, and he stumbled back.

Phastos cursed and surged to retake Gilgamesh’s position, using whatever that device he had created to hopefully seal her wound.

Gilgamesh couldn’t watch. This was Sprite. His little sister, the little trickster who always had a story to tell who would light up any room she was in. She could be infuriating, constantly snarking even at the wrong times but that didn’t make him love her any less. But there she was, on the slab table covered in her own blood.

The same blood that now stained his hands.

Gilgamesh stilted over towards the bin and threw up.

“Gil-“

“I’m fine!” Gilgamesh called back to Thena. “Stay with her.”

Thena nodded. She carded her fingers through Sprite’s hair, giving the girl something to ground herself with. Phastos was doing something with metal instruments and while Gilgamesh had felled entire armies by himself, he had to look away.

Sprite cried out in pain and the horrid sound tore into Gilgamesh’s heart. He opened his mouth to offer an apology but the moment he saw her like that again, he was overwhelmed with the need for fresh air. He surged out of the lab, nearly slamming into somebody.

It was Kingo, his face covered in a gunk that Gilgamesh really didn’t want to know the source of, apparently having heard Sprite’s screams when doing his beauty regime.

“What’s going on?” Kingo asked.

“Don’t go in there!” Gilgamesh said, standing in front of the door.

“But I thought I heard-“

Sprite gave off another scream and Kingo paled even under his face mask. He pushed towards the door but Gilgamesh refused to move.

“What happened to Sprite?” Kingo demanded.

“I don’t know.” Gilgamesh admitted. “But she’s hurt. Bad.”

“Then let me see her!”

“No.” Gilgamesh said.

If he couldn’t protect Sprite from getting so severely injured, he could at least keep Kingo from seeing just how sickly she was. But then Kingo’s eyes latched onto the ground. Gilgamesh followed his gaze and realised that they had tracked blood throughout the entire Domo.

Sprite’s blood.

Gilgamesh felt sick again.

“Believe me,” Gilgamesh said. “You don’t want to see her like this.”

“She needs me.” Kingo shot back. “She needs all of us.”

“She needs Ajak but Ajak isn’t here!” Gilgamesh snapped. “So unless you can work out a way to contact her, you should go back to whatever bullshit you were doing.”

Kingo stepped back like he had been struck. But when he spoke he did it with his head held high, his tone cold.

“I’m going to give you the benefit that you are under a lot of stress right now.” Kingo said. “But it isn’t exactly fair to take that anger out on me so I am going to walk into that room and I am going to support Sprite in any way I can because we are a family and family is there for each other no matter what.”

Gilgamesh felt his shoulders drop. He was suddenly exhausted, the stress of the last few minutes already getting to him.

“I’m sorry.” Gilgamesh whispered.

“It’s okay.” Kingo said. “We are all entitled to our own emotions.”

While Kingo was often the most dramatic of all of them, the man was also sometimes the wisest of of them. It felt weird to realise that without Ajak, Kingo was quick to rise to the occasion and could actually be relied on. Though, Gilgamesh supposed, the face mask didn’t exactly add to his air of authority.

————————————————————

Kingo was barely holding it together.

He had been so shocked when he had first heard the screaming, he had hoped that he had actually been having a nightmare that he would wake from at any moment. But when he walked past Gilgamesh and went into Phastos’ lab and saw Sprite on that table, covered in her own blood, Kingo didn’t wake from the nightmare and he had to accept that this was really happening.

Phastos was towering over Sprite, doing something to her abdomen as Thena tried to sooth her at the head of the table.

Sprite was sobbing, struggling against Phastos with what little energy she seemed to have left.

The last time Kingo had seen Sprite had been last night. She had seemed so upset, storming away  from the party. He should have followed her. Made sure that she was alright. But now she was injured and it had been his fault for not having protected her.

Sprite’s screams cut off.

The silence was even more chilling than the screams had been and Kingo found himself stepping forward, his hands clenched so hard his nails bit into his skin.

“Sprite?” Kingo prompted.

She had gone still. Too still. Kingo’s own heart seemed to stop as he came closer to her.

“It’s okay,” Phastos said. “She’s just unconscious. Her body is still fighting, but she’s exhausted and needs rest.”

Whatever Phastos had been doing to Sprite seemed to have at least stabilised her though judging from her colour and the periodic shivers that passed through her, Phastos’ treatment was only a stop gap until Ajak returned and healed her fully.

Kingo was about to sag with relief that Sprite was okay when she arched up off the table with a shout of pain.

Kingo surged towards her, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly as Thena began running fingers through her hair again.

“What’s happening?” Thena demanded, her usually unyielding voice now shaken.

Kingo wanted to know the exact same thing but when he glanced up to Phastos, the man seemed just as lost as they were. He started working on Sprite’s abdomen again, a frown etched on his face. As Kingo watched, his own mouth in a firm line, Phastos’ frown deepened.

“I’m going to have to move her.” Phastos said. “It will hurt, can I trust the two of you to ground her?”

Thena looked up at Kingo then and Kingo knew that under that scowl Thena was terrified. He wanted to reach out to her and offer to hug her but he also knew that when she was so wound up she was prone to lashing out. So instead he just gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Phastos eased Sprite onto her side.

Her eyes shot open again and Sprite cried out. Kingo held her hand even more tightly, crouching a little so that her eyes met his.

“Everything is okay.” Kingo said.

Sprite’s whole body spasmed as Phastos brushed up against her back. When Kingo glanced over, he saw that somehow wherever had harmed her had penetrated not only her abdomen but had also gone straight though her and out of her back, the severity of the wound having been hidden by the blood.

Sprite looked like she was going to throw up.

“Tell me about that legend about the swans again.” Kingo said.

Sprite blinked, tears streaming down her face. She took her shaking hand from his grasp and twisted it, summoning golden tendrils of light. But summoning only made her pain skyrocket and she was screaming again, her legs thrashing as Phastos aggravated her wound.

“I know you remember it.” Kingo continued even as his heart tore itself in two. “How did it go?”

She opened her mouth to respond but she only succeeded in crying out again, Thena having to use all her strength to keep Sprite on her side.

“Princess… Cursed…” Sprite gasped out, new pain flashing across her face.

Kingo wanted nothing more than to yell at Phastos to hurry up.

“Her brothers become swans. And if she speaks, they will - ah!”

Phastos apologised quickly but the damage had been done and Sprite was left reeling all over again. It took longer to calm her this time, no doubt her every sense on fire. Kingo patiently waited until she was able to focus again but before that happened, her eyelids began to droop.

“Stay with me Sprite.” Kingo said firmly.

“Can’t let…” Sprite mumbled.

“Can’t let what?” Kingo asked.

“Can’t let…” She repeated, her voice slurring.

Thena spoke before Kingo could.

“Save your strength, little one. You are among friends.”

“Can’t let them see…” Sprite said. She raised a shaking hand to conjure an illusion but nothing formed. The hand fell back down. “Pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic.” Kingo said. “You’re injured, there’s a difference.”

“Pathetic.” Sprite repeated. “Little one.”

Kingo exchanged glances with Thena and Phastos. While Thena and Phastos didn’t seem to understand what Sprite was so upset about, Kingo thought he did.

“Sprite,” He said gently, so gently, waiting until her tear filled eyes met his own. “Is this about how you look again?”

Thena opened her mouth to say something but she closed it again, realising that this conversation was too important to interrupt.

“Pathetic.” Sprite said again.

“You are not pathetic. I know we tease you but none of us look down on you for something you can’t control. You’re one of us, remember? You’re an Eternal. You’re brilliant and amazing and we all love you so much.”

But Sprite was fading again, her blinks taking longer, what little colour remained in her face was draining also. Even if she was hearing him, it didn’t seem like she was accepting his words. Once more Sprite raised her hand to summon cosmic energy, though what she intended to do Kingo wasn’t quite sure but even the attempt to use her abilities was simply too much on her body and her eyes rolled back.

Kingo held her hand a little tighter.

Phastos at last finished whatever treatment he had been doing on her back and her breathing evened out a little. Phastos stepped back, leaving Sprite laying on her side.

“We shouldn’t move her just yet.” Phastos said. “Give her time to rest. But somebody needs to be with her at all times.”

“I’ll stay.” Thena said just as Kingo chorused the same.

Phastos and Thena looked at Kingo. Phastos’ lip quirked into a smile while Thena was too high strung to be amused.

“What?” Kingo demanded, keeping his voice quiet as to not disturb Sprite.

“You have a little something,” Phastos gestured to his face. “On, well, everywhere.”

Kingo suddenly remembered why his face felt so sticky. He had been doing his beauty routine when he had heard Sprite’s screams. How the girl had taken him seriously at all in her confusion, he didn’t know. But now Kingo felt himself smiling too, though most of him was still concerned about Sprite.

“I’ll be back.” Kingo said, hoping his blush wasn’t showing through the face mask.

Kingo didn’t want to let go of Sprite’s hand. She seemed so small on this table, her teal uniform stained red though Phastos was retrieving some bandages if only to keep himself from laughing. What if he left her and the worst happened? No. Sprite was okay. She was just weak, as Phastos had said she just needed rest. She would be stable until Ajak had a chance to get here and heal her fully.

He slowly loosened his grip, his heart breaking when her hand remained limp even when he laid it onto the table.

“I’ll be back.” He said again though he wasn’t sure if it was to Sprite’s benefit or his own.

Dragging his feet through the Domo, Kingo waited until he was alone in his own room before he let himself cry.

————————————————————

Druig had been wallowing in his room, absolutely not because Makkari was on a mission with Ajak, when he had heard the crying.

Druig clenched his jaw, trying to drown out the sound. He knew it was Kingo, Kingo’s room was the closest to his own after all. But he also knew that he himself wasn’t Ajak. If he approached Kingo now, Druig would just say something stupid that made everything worse.

He usually prided himself on his quick tongue but sometimes he wished he had the tact of Ajak and Sersi. The two women always seemed to know how to cheer somebody up while Druig was usually the one to accidentally upset somebody.

And, unless it was Makkari, Druig tended to prefer being alone. You couldn’t say the wrong thing if you were alone. Kingo was probably crying over nothing. He cried just the other day when he found the ‘perfect’ mushroom in the forest on for Thena to accidentally step on it. Druig would just have to wait out this newest expression of emotions until Makkari was back again. Then he could talk to Kingo, with Makkari there as a social buffer.

But there was something different about it this time. Even from another room, Druig could hear the utter anguish in Kingo’s voice. Something was wrong.

Druig came out into the hallway. He raised his hand to knock on Kingo’s door.

No, this was stupid. Kingo was fine. Druig twisted on his heel but then hesitated again.

If something was actually the matter then he should make sure that Kingo was okay. No longer bothering to knock, Druig came through. Kingo jumped, whirling around with a yelp.

Druig would have made fun of the face mask if Kingo hadn’t been scrubbing at his hands under a running tap, the water stained red. Druig surged forwards, demanding to know if Kingo was injured.

“It’s not my blood.” Kingo said, his voice catching.

Druig stiffened.

“Then who…”

His first thought was Makkari and Druig felt the world threaten to collapse around him. He had never told her what he thought about her, never expressed just how much seeing her beautiful face made everything else worth it. If Makkari was gone forever… No. Makkari was with Ajak. She was safe.

“Tell me everything.” Druig said firmly.

Kingo raised a shaking red hand to his mouth, new tears running down his face.

“It’s Sprite…” Kingo said finally. “She’s okay but… I couldn’t do anything.”

Sprite was injured? How had Druig been so distracted with his own sour mood that he hadn’t been there for his little sister when she needed him the most. He felt disgusted with himself but that didn’t stop him from stepping closer to Kingo, silently raising his arms.

Druig didn’t like hugs that much, they sometimes made him feel like he was suffocating. But then Kingo latched onto him, his sobs beginning anew, Druig decided that maybe hugs weren’t so bad.

“We don’t know what happened.” Kingo said.

“We’ll work this out.” Druig assured him. “As you said, she’s okay. That’s what’s important.”

While Druig was going to go check on Sprite himself as soon as he could, he knew that Kingo needed him right now also. He let Kingo cry freely, keeping him steady for as long as he needed it. When Kingo finally settled a little and pulled away, his face mask was now even more of a mess.

Druig trained his expression to keep the smile away.

But Kingo was too perceptive.

“Don’t.” Kingo huffed.

“I didn’t say anything.” Druig said.

Kingo rose a single perfect eyebrow, pulling at the face mask again. This time Druig couldn’t stop the laugh in time.

“Here,” Druig said, guiding Kingo back to the sink. “I’ll give you a hand.”

“We are to speak of this to no one.” Kingo said.

“Absolutely.” Druig grinned. “I’ll only tell Makkari. Oh and Ajak. Maybe Phastos…”

“You are too cruel.” Kingo said but even he was now smiling a little.

Using a cloth that Kingo picked out because apparently the first cloth that Druig had grabbed had been the wrong one, Druig used warm water to wipe down Kingo’s face, taking away not only the face mask but the tears as well. Soon enough they were both joking around, flicking each other with the water in the way that only brothers could.

When his face was at last clear, Druig helped Kingo get the blood from his fingernails.

“She was so small.” Kingo whispered.

Druig felt his breath caught. He hadn’t seen Sprite. He didn’t know if that made it better or worse. A part of him was terrified to see what she looked like, to see her so severely injured, while the rest of him was trying to pretend that Sprite wasn’t actually injured and she was in fact perfectly okay and he knew the moment he actually saw her he would never scrub that memory from his mind.

“Sprite is a little brat.” Druig said. “But she’s strong.”

Kingo suddenly sat straight.

“Strong!” He burst out.

“What?” Druig blinked.

“Gilgamesh, he was so upset! I never checked on him again!” Kingo said quickly.

“Relax,” Druig said. “We’ll find him together.”

It couldn’t have been easy for Gilgamesh to see Sprite like that so as much as Druig needed to see her, to make sure she was okay, he followed Kingo out of the room and through the hallway. They checked Gilgamesh’s room but he wasn’t there, nor was he in Thena’s room.

“Thena is still with Sprite.” Kingo said. “But I had really hoped he would be here.”

“If he was upset, do you think he would be in the kitchen? Cooking usually seems to help.”

“We can check.” Kingo said. “But I’m not sure if he’s past even that point right now. Gilgamesh had been the one to find her, it must have been terrifying.”

Druig nodded grimly. The kitchen was just past Phastos’ lab. And judging by how much Kingo had slowed his steps, Druig could assume that that was where Sprite currently was. Druig glanced through the doorway but he couldn’t see her past Phastos. He steeled himself, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

Sprite was okay. Phastos was sure to be doing all he could to help her. They needed to find Gilgamesh.

Druig nudged Kingo past the lab, the other mans locked onto where Phastos’ back was turned to them.

————————————————————

Thena didn’t know how many hours it had been since she had first seen that tear on Sprite’s face.

Her legs were sore from standing so long, but no matter how many times Phastos suggested that she sat down, she refused. If Sprite wasn’t able to rest easy, than neither could Thena. So she was stuck standing there, replaying that moment over and over again, cursing herself for not having noticed that something was wrong sooner.

Every now and then Sprite would stir but the pain would quickly grow too much. Even when she was awake, she was barely coherent, muttering nonsense about not letting people see and that she wasn’t a child. Thena didn’t see Sprite as useless, of course she didn’t. And yet Sprite seemed convinced in her ramblings that she was letting all of them down, no matter how many times Thena or Phastos tried to explain that she had never and would never disappoint them.

But as time droned on and Kingo didn’t return, Thena was starting to wonder if Sprite’s fear wasn’t just caused by her injury but she was actually voicing things she had been internalising for too long.

Thena knew what that was like. She had been having nightmares recently, nightmares she didn’t dare talk about as to not worry the others. They were only dreams after all, dreams of entire planets imploding, dreams of thousands of screams that were sometimes so familiar she would wake screaming herself.

Gilgamesh seemed to know when she was unsettled but she wouldn’t tell him about it either. There was no sense in worrying him over planets that she had never even been to, planets that she was unable to find when she had secretly snuck into Phastos’ lab to look at his star maps.

But if Thena had been keeping secrets from the others than maybe Sprite had been too. Arishem knows that she had somehow thought she could trick them all into thinking she wasn’t hurt, coming into the Domo with an illusion casted over all the blood. And yet while she had her own secrets she kept, the idea that Sprite hadn’t trusted them to help her tore deep into Thena.

Did Sprite not trust them? Had Thena done something to make the girl think that suffering alone was more appealing than just admitting that something was wrong? Thena knew that people sometimes were intimidated by her and she often used that to her advantage. Even the greatest of War Lords bowed before her and brokered peace, unable to go against her strength. But if that had also intimidated Sprite to the point of nearly letting herself bleed out rather than ask for help… Then Thena would have given up all of her fighting prowess if it meant that Sprite trusted her with her vulnerability.

Thena was broken from her thoughts as Sprite stirred once more.

But even though her eyes were open, they were unfocused and dull. A blanket had been placed onto Sprite to keep her warm with the added benefit of hiding the red stains on her uniform, with a fresh pillow under her head so that it wouldn’t have to stay on the hard stone. Thena had also cleaned her face a little and Phastos was currently retrieving a new bowl of cool water when she had awoken again.

“Phastos.” Thena called.

Sprite twitched and she went to sit up. Thena set a gentle hand onto Sprite’s shoulder.

But when Thena went to smooth down Sprite’s hair, Thena frowned.

“She’s burning up.”

“Fevers are normal.” Phastos said, coming back over. “But we need to keep her hydrated.”

He set down the fresh water bowl, laying his own hand on Sprite’s forehead. Sprite blinked sluggishly. A shudder passed through her and for a moment Thena was worried that she might throw up.

“Sprite, can you hear me?” Phastos asked. “Do you know where you are?”

Sprite moaned.

“Can’t you stop her pain?” Thena demanded.

Phastos flinched back like he had been slapped. Thena immediately felt guilty.

“I work with physical manifestations.” He said. “Mechanical things, solid things. Only Sersi can transmute a fluid, I can only manifest the bowl that holds the liquid. Without Sersi, I cannot form pain medication.”

But Sersi and Ikaris hadn’t returned from where it was they were so they were left only able to keep Sprite from losing any more blood. Thena was of even less use than Phastos was. Hey Sprite, I know you’re already injured but would you like a sword in these trying times? If there was only a way that Thena could take Sprite’s pain as her own.

The girl was so small, it was a miracle that she had even tolerated her treatment so far.

“Try to drink.” Phastos said, nudging a small cup to her lips.

Sprite moaned again, moving away from the cup. She was barely holding onto consciousness and Thena was starting to fear that maybe one of these times she closed her she would never open them again.

“Just try a little.” Thena said. “It’s nice and cool.”

Sprite’s eyes flicked to her. She didn’t seem to recognise Thena, blinking slowly. Then, her voice but a whisper, she spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever could you be sorry for?” Thena asked.

Sprite didn’t need to apologise for anything. It was Thena who should be begging for forgiveness for no having been there for her when she needed her most. But Sprite started shaking her head, fresh tears threatening to spill.

“It was my fault. I was so stupid.”

“Sprite, what happened to you?”

“There was a Deviant… And I thought I could take it.”

“Why the hell would you-” Thena caught herself before Phastos could shoot a glare at her. She took a steadying breath. “I mean, that’s okay. I’m just glad that you’re…”

You’re what? Sprite wasn’t okay. She was barely conscious and had lost most of her blood and the only reason why she was admitting this was because she was so out of it. And now she had a raging fever and was most likely dehydrated. Thena tried to push away her anger at Sprite’s stupidity, knowing that she could yell at Sprite later about facing Deviants alone but as much as she tried her own blood boiled to think that Sprite would risk herself like that when there were half a dozen more combat ready Eternals who would have easily taken out a Deviant without almost dying.

Thena swallowed roughly.

Sprite continued, her voice still just as weak as she was.

“I thought if I beat it I could prove that I’m not a kid.” A single tear rolled down Sprite’s face. “Then you guys wouldn’t hate me.”

Phastos stepped forward, opening his mouth but closing it again. Sprite was already asleep again, her body trembling as beads of sweat dripped down her forehead. Thena was left to stew in her own anger and confusion, unable to do anything to ease Sprite’s discomfort.

As powerful as Thena was, she was too weak to protect Sprite.

————————————————————

Makkari had evacuated the last resident out of the way of a now managed bush fire and was ready to move onto the next task when she found Ajak standing weirdly, apparently staring at nothing. Makkari tapped her shoulder to get her attention.

“What is it?” Makkari asked in sign.

Ajak just shook her head, claiming that nothing was wrong.

But Makkari recognised that look on Ajak’s face. She was concerned about something. Something important.

“I’m finished here.” Makkari said. “Did you want to have a break with the others before we move on?”

“I am okay.” Ajak assured her. “Just distracted. I am ready to go when you are.”

Makkari crossed her arms, making no movement to take Ajak to the next location. There was no way that Ajak looked that concerned over nothing. Makkari liked to tease her that she was like a smother hen to all of them, constantly worried for them, but Makkari also knew that Ajak usually had a reason to be concerned.

Whether it be a fight between Druig and Ikaris or an invention gone awry by Phastos, there was always something exciting going on back at the Domo and it was like Ajak had a second ability, that being knowing exactly when something innocent was going to become too dangerous.

The older appearing woman always seemed so wise yet when Makkari quirked up a brow, Ajak didn’t immediately get the unspoken question. So Makkari rolled her eyes and asked again if something was wrong.

“You are always so perceptive.” Ajak gave a weak smile.

“Everyone else is just slow.” Makkari replied with her own grin.

“I had the strangest feeling that somebody was in danger.” Ajak finally admitted. “But it was nothing, we need to move onto the next town.”

“We can go check it out. Make sure everything’s okay.” Makkari said. “If nothing’s up then we can come back here just as fast as if we never left.”

“Makkari, I’m probably just imagining things.”

“I trust your gut.” Makkari said. “It’s never done me wrong before.”

Finally Ajak relented, throwing up her hands in surrender even if a small smile played on her lips. But Makkari watched as Ajak sobered again. Whatever had happened, it was really throwing Ajak off.

Makkari took Ajak’s hand in her own and held it, revelling in the warmth. She was just about to start running all the way back to the Domo, with Ajak alongside her when Ajak suddenly pulled away.

Makkari turned to Ajak in confusion. Ajak’s hands were in a flurry of motion, gestures that Makkari understood completely as words, ending in pointing to a glowing shrub.

With one strong gust of wind, the reignited fire flourished, spilling out into the wider forest. The people they had just saved were still in danger. Whatever gut feeling that Ajak had had would have to be ignored for now, at least until they got this under control.

Chapter Text

Sersi had slowed her walk gradually until she stopped fully in a partial clearing, her head tilted.

Ikaris twisted back to her, his dark hair shining brightly in the sunlight and for a moment she was breathless. Even after hundreds of years there was that familiarity to his face, to his hands, to his voice, as if she had known it even before this life. Sersi loved him with her entire heart, her entire soul as if their existences reflected one another. But then that weird feeling came back and she was looking around again.

“What is it?” Ikaris asked.

“Nothing.” She said.

Ikaris quirked a brow.

“Okay fine,” Sersi huffed a laugh. “It’s just… Something about this place feels strange.”

“Strange?” Ikaris glanced around them. “It just looks like a forest. The same forest we saw yesterday.”

“I know. But it’s like there is something here that shouldn’t be here… I’m probably just imagining things. Anyway, you were saying something about a market?”

“Oh! Yes!” Ikaris hooked his arm in hers and they continued on. “I heard that there was a human market going on near the city in a few days and I knew that you would love to go.”

While Ikaris continued talking, Sersi barley heard a word, trying to make sense of just what felt different. She was so pleased that Ikaris had thought to tell her about the market, she knew that he wouldn’t have much of an interest in going to it outside of his relationship to herself and it made her feel so important that he was willing to spend a day doing activities she loved.

But that feeling of wrongness superseded her excitement for the market. Nothing was amiss. There was no Deviant around, no threats to the nearby city or to the Domo. Everything seemed to be in order. And yet it still felt wrong.

Sersi stood still, letting go of Ikaris’ arm.

She reached out through her powers to feel not just the ground beneath her feet or the sun warming her skin but instead on every single atomic structure that was bound together to form the physical world around them. It was almost too much to open her sensations fully; she couldn’t just feel what different elements formed what things but she could see just what gave those elements the attributes they were known for.

Her ability of transmutation wasn’t as simple as they others believed. She didn’t just make something out of nothing, everything required equalivent exchange. The grass wasn’t just grass. It was plant cells that contained chlorophyll, even if the humans didn’t yet have a name for what made the grass green, and those nodules of chlorophyll were actually made up a central magnesium atom surrounded by a porphyrin ring that contained nitrogen.

The grass wasn’t just grass and shouldn’t be able to be turned into gold.

And yet if Sersi plucked a single blade, she could transmute it into golden earrings because she somehow understood that while everything around her could be classified into millions of unrelated categories, they all shared the cosmic matter that made up the universe. Everything was different and yet everything was the same.

Ignoring the grass, Sersi forced her focus to move onto other things instead. The trees seemed normal and constant, the spider webs were as intriguing as ever, the rocks and dirt were made of an infinite amount of different substances, each piece slightly different from one another and yet all appearing the same to the naked eye. Even the leaves were normal with the-

Sersi’s eyes widened.

She whirled around, focus latching onto a leaf on the ground. No, it wasn’t just the leaf. It was what was on the leaf. Sersi crouched down, her finger brushing up against it. It came back sticky.

“Wait a moment,” Ikaris said. “Is that blood?”

“There’s more.” Sersi said.

She picked through the tree litter on the ground, finding a few smaller drops of blood. It formed a trail, one way leading a little deeper into the forest towards the city while the other led back towards the Domo. How she hadn’t noticed the blood sooner she didn’t know but now that her focus was on it all of her sensations were attuned on finding more blood.

Sersi took a deep breath in and detected that the path leading to the city had the most traces of iron and as such the most blood.

She followed the path, walking quickly, with Ikaris on her heels.

“Do you think it was some wild animal?” Ikaris asked. “There seems to be a lot of it. There must have been a fight.”

“I don’t think it was an animal.” Sersi said. “Some of the properties I sense aren’t usually in Earth creatures… It’s more like…”

Sersi didn’t want to say it. She felt ill just thinking about it, the possibility that the blood had come from a fellow Eternal.

“Deviants, then?” Ikaris offered.

She didn’t respond, her heart pounding against her chest like drums as she followed the trail further along. Through the tree line she saw something a little further up.

“Speaking of Deviants.” Sersi mumbled.

Ikaris followed her line of sight. They exchanged a glance before jogging towards the find.

A large Deviant, one of the biggest Sersi remembers having ever seen, lay impaled on the stump of a felled tree. It was surrounded by blood, not just its own but also red splashes that were similar to human blood but not quite.

Sersi stiffened, realisation dawning on her.

“Sprite came through here.” She whispered.

“But Sprite wasn’t injured.” Ikaris countered. “With this amount of blood, it would have been-“

Ikaris stopped himself.

“That little brat.” He growled suddenly. “She was hiding it.”

“I knew she was acting weird!” Sersi said, her heart thundering even harder. “Come on, we need to help her!”

Ikaris didn’t need to be told twice and in an instant the both of them were running back towards the Domo. But Ikaris soon decided that they weren’t going fast enough and he hooked his arms under her own and all at once Sersi was lifted up off the ground.

She suppressed a cry of shock at the sudden movement, fighting against her every instinct to lash out against Ikaris in case it made them both fall. She forced her mind to steady, letting her legs dangle as Ikaris flew as fast as he could back towards the Domo.

Even as they traveled, Sersi was thinking back to the conversation they had had with Sprite when they had bumped into her in the forest. With the now added context that something was wrong with Sprite at the time, her brain helpfully supplied every subtle hint Sprite had given to show that she was hurt but the problem with hindsight was that Sersi would never be able to go back and change how she had acted.

She had brushed away any concern that something had been weird even though Sprite must have been in so much pain and was no doubt using all her strength just maintain to an illusion of complete wellness.

Sersi didn’t know if the onus was on Sprite or herself. While Sprite should have never hidden a wound so serious to cause this much blood, Sersi should have prevented Sprite from getting injured in the first place. Ajak depended on Sersi to protect the others in her stead whenever she wasn’t around and yet within just a few hours Sprite could have died.

That is, if she wasn’t dead already.

As Ikaris finally set Sersi back down to the ground, Sersi nearly collapsed. Sprite couldn’t be dead. Not after all these years, not after all they had been through together. Sprite was one of Sersi’s closest friends though sometimes she seemed a little on edge when she was around Sersi when Ikaris was there also.

The two of them surged into the Domo, nearly colliding into Druig and Kingo outside of the kitchen.

“Sersi!” Kingo cried, throwing his arms around her.

Sersi hugged him back tightly, realising that he was a little shaky. Druig stood a few steps away, his arms crossed.

“You’re okay.” Druig said mildly but she could tell he was actually relieved. “I wasn’t sure if something happened to you too.”

“We’re fine.” Sersi assured him. “But we found the Deviant surrounded by blood.”

“It was a Deviant?” Kingo asked, finally stepping back. “I didn’t even let myself wonder what had happened. She was so…”

Kingo swallowed roughly.

Ikaris stepped forward now and enveloped Kingo into another hug. Kingo buried his head into Ikaris’ chest. Druig glanced away but Sersi went to him and put a gentle hand onto his shoulder. Even if neither man had been the cause of the blood in the forrest, they had both been shaken to the core. She shoved aside her own concern, knowing they needed her love and support right now.

After a few more moments and a wiped away tear from Kingo, they at last told Sersi and Ikaris about how Sprite was found and that she was being treated by Phastos.

“Is Ajak still away?” Sersi asked.

“Yes.” Druig said. “And Makkari is with her. We have no way of contacting them.”

Sersi turned to Ikaris.

He nodded silently, kissed her on the cheek, and left. She didn’t know how long it would take him to fly to Ajak and Makkari, she could only hope that they would return in time. For now though, she would have to support her family in any way she could.

“We were on the way to check on Gilgamesh.” Kingo said, gesturing to the kitchen. “He and Thena had seen Sprite first so I’m a little worried about him.”

“A little?” Druig scoffed. “I thought you’d cry a river.”

“An occasional cry can be good to clear out a complexion.” Kingo claimed. “It makes you more radiant.”

Sersi didn’t personally believe that but she nodded all the same. Bidding the two of them farewell with one more hug each, this time Druig melted into her arms a little more, she requested they give Gilgamesh her love.

Finally, Sersi came towards the lab. She had to take a moment to steady herself, that now familiar feeling of blood assaulting her senses. It could take days before her abilities normalised once more but until then it was like her entire focus was on the red liquid that stained the very floor she stood on. It was sickening. But if it was bad for her, then it must be so much worse for Sprite.

The girl in question was nearly hidden by a blanket, an all too pale face and bright red hair the only thing visible despite the tang of blood. She was lying, asleep, on the stone work table. Thena was sleeping also, half propped up on the slab, moments away from falling to the ground completely.

Phastos was no where to be seen.

Sersi stepped in as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake Thena or Sprite but needing to be certain that Sprite was okay all the same.

Sprite’s breath hitched in her sleep, her brows scrunching. Sprite’s teal suit had been peeled away from her clammy skin, sitting abandoned on the ground, part of a bandage peeking out from beneath the blanket.

Sersi picked up the armoured suit.

It had only been a few hours since Sersi had seen Sprite wearing that uniform. It must have been after Sprite had gotten hurt because they had bumped into each other when Sprite was on the way back to the Domo. And yet because of Sprite’s illusion, Sersi hadn’t seen the severe tear into the fabric, the teal stained red.

She folded it quickly before setting it aside.

Thena lurched up and a golden spear was suddenly held to Sersi’s throat.

“It’s me.” Sersi said quietly.

Thena blinked. The spear disappeared instantly and Thena opened her mouth to apologise. Sersi held up her hands.

“It’s okay,” She said. “You didn’t mean it. Is she okay?”

Thena twisted back to Sprite, her face grim.

“She is strong.” Thena said firmly. “But… I fear for her all the same. She lost a lot of blood, Phastos said that she is still critical.”

“Ikaris is looking for Ajak.” Sersi said. “As soon as Ajak is back, she’ll be able to heal Sprite completely.”

The words were so simple and yet they hung heavily in the silence. There was no denying how much pain Sprite was in, her body shuddering periodically, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead.

Sersi lay a gentle hand on Sprite’s face. Sprite moaned, leaning into the touch.

“She’s burning up.” Sersi said.

“The fever started two hours ago.” Thena admitted. “It keeps getting higher. Taking off her armour helped a little but she keeps bleeding through bandages.”

“Deviant injuries are harder to treat.” Sersi frowned. “I think she’s stirring. Sprite? Sprite, can you hear me?”

Sprite’s eyes fluttered, her head twisting from side to side. Her breathing hitched again and she let out a pained noise that tore Sersi’s heart in two.

“Rest.” Sersi said.

But now that Sprite was gaining consciousness again, her pain was steadily increasing. Fresh tears mingled with the old and Sprite groaned, her whole body tensing. She went to sit up, her eyes barely open.

“No no, don’t try to move. Everything is okay…”

Before Sprite or Thena could keep her lying down, Sprite was sitting upright, both arms wrapped tightly around her abdomen. The blanket fell away, revealing the bandages that covered her entire torso were now stained red.

Sprite over balanced and Sersi rushed to hold her upright.

“It’s okay.” Sersi said smoothly, holding Sprite’s head close to her chest. “It’s alright.

Sprite was sobbing, her entire body shuddering. It took Sersi a long time to realise that Sprite was actually speaking, her words garbled through her weakness. She wasn’t just speaking though, she was apologising.

“There’s nothing to apologise for.” Sersi soothed.

“Stupid stupid stupid st-“

“You’re not stupid. You made a mistake. But that isn’t what matters right now.”

Sprite jolted in Sersi’s arms and she coughed strongly. Sersi rubbed her back. She had to calm Sprite soon before she made herself sick.

“He’ll hate me. He’ll hate me! Weak, pathetic, useless!”

Sersi had never seen the girl so agitated, so fuelled by pain and fever that in her delirium she barely aware of her own words.

“Sprite, it’s okay.”

Thena had disappeared, leaving Sersi fumbling to help Sprite all alone. The girl was inconsolable, constantly berating herself as if the entire world loathed her.

Sersi now felt that all too familiar sense of blood transferring onto herself but she didn’t care. She just held Sprite tighter, pressing a kiss to her forehead. In the end it wasn’t Sersi that finally calmed Sprite, she simply ran out of energy and slumped against her unconscious.

Sersi held back her own tears, setting Sprite down carefully, making sure she was breathing okay.

Thena had come back at last with Phastos in tow, the man looking just as exhausted as Sprite was.

Sersi scrubbed her face, ignoring that her hands were now covered in Sprite’s blood. She couldn’t allow herself to cry. Not yet, not when Phastos and Thena needed her to be strong in Ajak’s absence.

————————————————————

Phastos had done all he could to manage Sprite’s pain but it still wasn’t enough.

No matter how many times he stitched her wound, it would reopen in her jolting movements. But he couldn’t stop her from fidgeting, her body wracked with too much pain. With Sersi’s help, he was able to make a sleeping draught and it seemed to help a little until Sprite was crying out again, the pain coming back tenfold.

Whatever it was about this large deviant Sprite had fought, it had left an untreatable infection in her bloodstream. Her fever was spiking also and those few times Sprite’s eyes were open they were glazed and her confusion seemed to make everything worse. When she was awake, she was inconsolable, though Sersi took it in stride.

Sersi was amazing with Sprite, able to calm the girl in a way that Phastos and Thena had been struggling to do for hours. When Phastos replaced her bandages yet again, it was Sersi who was able to ground Sprite enough to allow him to help her.

Eventually Sersi decided that holding Sprite even in between treatments seemed to help and Phastos summoned a golden chair for the two of them to sit on, the blanket wrapped around Sprite’s shoulders, her head buried in Sersi’s chest.

Phastos had agreed to it, eventually accepting that no matter what he did her wound would reopen so any small comfort was worth it. Phastos wished he could take away Sprite’s suffering completely but he was running out of options.

She was weakening, quickly, and when he let his mind wonder, he considered what he would have to craft for Sprite’s funeral. Would she prefer to be buried or cremated, and what designs should he use on the urn or gravesite? Disgusted with himself for even allowing himself to accept Sprite’s possible passing, Phastos scrubbed his face.

“Rest Phastos.” Thena said as if she wasn’t just as weary as he was.

“I can fix this.” He said firmly.

And yet the hours dragged on and failed creation after failed creation piled up in the lab. He couldn’t fix this. Not without Ajak. But Ajak was still hours away, if by some miracle Ikaris even found her.

Phastos began to question his own ability. What use were inventions if they didn’t help anybody? What use was he when he couldn’t stop the hurt in one of his own? Every other Eternal was incredible. Thena could take on entire armies, Gilgamesh could collapse entire mountains with a single punch. Druig could influence entire towns to drop their weapons and embrace one another instead and Makkari could rescue those too far away from help in the blink of an eye.

Sersi could transmute anything and Ikaris could soar high above the clouds. Kingo’s cosmic canons were a sight to behold and he could fell any beast with ease. Ajak could heal things, with her abilities or with her words. She could mend rifts between lost loves, could offer support to the victims of plague or war.

And Sprite… Sprite could hold the most incredible stories, influence entire cultures to bloom in courage and creativity. But Phastos, Phastos could do none of those things. The only thing Phastos was apt as is ranting about technicalities of inventions. He didn’t like leaving the Domo. He didn’t even like leaving his lab. The lab was safe, it was familiar. He could invent in peace without having to acknowledge some of the atrocities that came from over zealous humans who twisted his creations into something dark.

But now all his inventions were useless. Every single thing he attempted did nothing to quell Sprite’s fever and she was growing weaker and more confused by the moment. He knew that she was fighting, by Arishem she was fighting, but she was also losing.

Phastos barely kept himself from throwing his latest creation against the wall, if only so he wouldn’t wake Sprite. She stirred all the same from her position in Sersi’s arms.

“Shh…” Sersi ran a hand through Sprite’s hair. “It’s okay…”

“I have more water if she wants to try again.” Thena said.

“Thank you.” Sersi said. “Sprite, sweetheart, do you want to drink?”

Sprite’s entire body tensed and she buried her head back into Sersi’s chest. Sersi offered Thena a soft smile as if it wasn’t tearing her apart to see Sprite like this. Phastos didn’t know how Sersi was so relaxed when even Thena seemed to be at her wits ends.

If Sersi could be so strong, if Sprite could be so strong, then Phastos could be strong too.

Phastos steeled himself and returned to his inventions. Sprite was depending on him right now and while none of his creations had helped her so far, he couldn’t stop now.

————————————————————

Ikaris prayed to Arishem that he wouldn’t be too late.

He had only known a vague direction to find Ajak and Makkari. He knew they were at a town up north of the Domo but the town was not only far away but it was also sparsely populated, primarily made of massive grazing land with the occasional farm house.

Surging towards the first human he saw, Ikaris almost landed directly on top of them. The poor farmer stumbled back.

“Two women.” Ikaris barked. “With clothes like mine.”

The farmer seemed to regain their wits a little, though their hand still shook as they pointed even further north. Ikaris launched off the ground, sending off a shock wave as he did so. He didn’t bother thanking the farmer, too caught up in his mission.

Sprite was depending on him, he couldn’t afford to let her die just because he was too slow. The girl was like a little sister to him, one that always looked up at him with bright shining eyes. And though he hadn’t yet seen Sprite’s wound as she had hidden it like the little shit she was and he had left to find Ajak before he could see her true current appearance, just the idea that Sprite was injured shook him to his core.

Sprite wasn’t a fighter. She was a story teller. She was there to give hope through the most beautiful glittering light shows. Though she certainly had her mischievous streak, constantly coming up with and presenting stories that exaggerated certain aspects of certain people, including his own rashness, he loved her all the same.

Yet another farmer was working the fields but this time when Ikaris landed before him, the man threw himself to the ground in worship.

“Never mind that.” Ikaris snapped, his heart thundering against his chest. “I need to find two women with clothes like this. One of them is shorter, and she-“

Ikaris was suddenly cut off but not by the farmer. Makkari appeared before him, an after shock trailing after her. She was obviously in a good mood, a playful grin hanging on her face as she exaggerated hand movements to indicate that she was teasing him.

“You’re making such a ruckus!” Makkari said. “Didn’t Ajak tell you to watch how you land?”

Ikaris didn’t want to ruin her mood but there was no time for banter. He formed a fist in front of his chest, opening it as he swung his arm out with the appropriate flare necessary to sign Sprite’s name.

Makkari’s grin dropped. She must have noticed how tense he was, and he dimly realised that his jaw was sore from clenching his teeth too hard. When she spoke this time, it was fast and serious.

“What happened? Is everything okay?”

“She’s hurt.” Ikaris said. “She needs Ajak, now.”

Makkari nodded grimly, disappearing in a stream of gold.

Ikaris yearned to follow her, to find Ajak this very instant. But even with his ability of flight, he would never be able to keep up with Makkari. So instead he was left there in that field, a farmer still praying on his knees as if he was some kind of God, fighting against his every instinct to shoot up off the ground.

His body thrummed with energy, his leg bouncing up and down.

What if Sprite had already succumbed to her wounds? What if because he had stupidly not noticed that something was wrong in the first place, Sprite was going to die and it would be all his fault. He hadn’t even seen her leave the festival the night before, he had been too enamoured with Sersi. Now though, he thought about every single interaction with Sprite and wondered if they would be the last times he ever saw her.

What was the last prank she had pulled? What had been the last joke she had laughed at? Did Sprite hate him? She very well could hate him, given how weird she had been acting around him lately. Sometimes she would be her normal playful self and yet other times it was like it tore her soul in two to even look at him.

Would Ikaris even get a chance to ask why she had decided to hide that she was so grievously wounded? Had she been ashamed, had Ikaris somehow made her think that she would be any lesser if she asked for some help?

Ikaris wanted to pull his hair out. Why hadn’t Sprite trusted him with the truth. Before he reached an answer, Makkari finally reappeared but this time brought Ajak alongside her.

Ajak got straight to business, demanding to know what had happened.

“We found a Deviant in the forrest. A big one, impaled on a stump. I don’t know how she did it, not when she’s so small.”

“I’m sure she’ll regale you the story with many exaggerations.” Ajak said with a smile.

“I don’t want some damn story!” Ikaris snapped. Then he ducked his head in shame, knowing that Ajak had only been trying to ease his worry. “I want her to be okay.”

“We all do.” Ajak said gently, setting a loving hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done the right thing coming to me, thank you. Makkari will take me to her, I trust you’ll be okay to make your own way back?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He wanted to take Ajak to Sprite himself, wanted to be there when she was healed if only to convince himself that everything was actually fine. But again, Makkari was simply faster than him. He would have to swallow his pride and just pray to Arishem that he made it back in time.

Ajak hugged Ikaris and he was torn between wishing she would just go already and save Sprite while the rest of him was needing her comfort. Ajax waited patiently for Ikaris to decide when to pull away. Then, after a quick hug from Makkari, the two of them were off and Ikaris was once again alone.

“That.” The farmer breathed, glancing up from his grovelling position. “Was cool.”

Okay, not quite alone. Ikaris rolled his eyes and shot up off the ground, flying as fast as he could back towards the Domo.

————————————————————

Ajak thanked Makkari sincerely before she addressed Phastos, Thena and Sersi. The three of them all looked exhausted and she made a mental note to check on each of them later. But for now, the priority was Sprite, who was currently sitting on Sersi’s lap on a newly made throne, her eyes closed.

“Symptoms?” She asked quietly, kneeling beside the chair and raising the back of her hand to Sprite’s forehead.

“Fever, obviously,” Thena said, cutting off the other two when they tried to answer. “And she threw up blood a little while ago.”

Even in her sleep it was obvious that Sprite was in agony.

Her whole body was shivering, fresh tears mingling with old whenever she so much as tried to readjust. Her usually bright skin had greyed, her lips and fingertips all too blue.

When Phastos spoke, his words were factual but Ajak knew he was struggling to push aside his feelings. Phastos was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve.

“Deep stab wound to lower left quadrant of her abdomen, leading to a secondary infection with high fever, difficulty breathing and reduced blood clotting.”

“Okay.” Ajak said. “Would you mind lifting her up onto the table?”

Sersi hesitated for a moment, her arms wrapped around Sprite as if to protect her. But then she just nodded grimly, gathered Sprite up as carefully as she could and stood. With both Thena and Phastos stumbling beside Sersi as if she would drop Sprite at any moment, Ajak prepared herself by summoning an excess of cosmic energy, not knowing how much she would need.

Sprite hissed as she was laid down onto the table. her eyes squeezed tightly.

“Leave us.” Ajak said.

“No!” Thena barked just as Phastos and Sersi went to claim all the reasons they should say.

“It may be easier if you do not see this.” Ajak explained. “The wound is severe and the infection is serious. Please respect Sprite’s dignity.”

They glanced at each other but still the three of them hesitated. Eventually, Sersi was the one to end the heavy silence, her voice stilted.

“We should find the others.” Sersi said. She cleared her throat. “Make sure everybody is okay.”

Ajak tapped her foot three times onto the ground to get Makkari’s attention. Makkari twisted to face her fully, finally tearing her focus away from Sprite.

“Go with them.” Ajak said. “Druig may need you.”

Makkari looked just as ready to argue as the others had been. But she nodded all the same and followed Phastos, Sersi and Thena out of the lab, no doubt intending on feeling the vibrations for any sign that something was wrong.

With Ajak now alone with Sprite, she was able to fully assess the girl.

Phastos had done well to bandage Sprite’s injury but she had already lost too much blood. Ajak had seen severe injuries before, on both Eternals and Humans, but somehow this felt worse. This was Sprite. The brilliant girl that Ajak loved so dearly and longed to protect.

Ajak knew all too well that Sprite’s death would mean very little to Arishem. The entire purpose of their creation was to defeat Deviants and allow civilisations to build up enough cosmic energy to incubate a growing Celestrial. And if their bodies died in that process then Arishem would simply allocate a new shell to form a new Eternal, identical to the last, only to repeat the whole cycle of birth, death, rebirth all over again.

Ajak knew the higher plan. As Arishem’s designated speaker, she alone retained the memories of her too long existence. But after thousands of years, maybe even millions by this point, across hundreds of planets Ajak had found herself growing weary.

How many more times would she have to act as a Mother to beings that would ultimately be sacrificed as pawns used in a chess game they shall never comprehend?

How many more Sprite’s would she see die, succumbing to wounds that either Ajak couldn’t mend or injuries that Sprite had kept hidden until it was too late?

Even if and when versions of Sprite survived the entire task of cultivating a population large enough to allow for an Emergence, the poor girl would still be robbed of all her new memories and be put on a new planet just to do it all over again. Even if Sprite didn’t know just how many times a shell like hers had been used, Ajak did know.

And it wasn’t just Sprite. She had seen Gilgamesh give his life in protecting a town, powerful until the end. Seen Thena take on entire armies worth of Deviants and nearly win. As dramatic as Kingo liked to act, his deaths were always subdued and quiet, never wanting to worry those he held dear. Sersi would do anything to protect whatever peoples they had been cultivating, though Humans especially seemed to have captured her heart.

Even Ikaris wasn’t immune to the hurt; he had died in Sersi’s arms on the Planet before Earth and Ajak would never be able to forget Sersi’s scream. Makkari didn’t always have a chance to fall in love with Druig before she succumbed to whatever danger lurked in the dark but there would always be those longing looks and hidden smiles between the two of them. Sometimes Ajak even helped break the ice between them, knowing that a few years of pure happiness was worth the possibility of any of them working out that they had all done this before.

Ajak never complained.

It was her duty and purpose to protect the Eternals as best she could. But while she didn’t complain, she did mourn them all every single time. She had tried to distance herself after the first few cycles, convincing herself that maybe if she didn’t care then it wouldn’t have to feel like her soul was being torn out every time she lost one of them.

But it never worked.

No matter what she did a piece of her always died whenever one of them did. So eventually she allowed herself to give into her instincts. She would hug them when they needed a hug. Scold them when they had done something to gain her attention. Give them every opportunity to grow and flourish. Love them until the day they died.

She sometimes wondered if Arishem had programmed her to be like this, to be so maternal to the nine other Eternals as well as to the natives of whatever planet they were on to the point that all of them looked up to her as a guardian. Maybe it was that instinct that made her slowly realise that even when an Eternal was either revived or mind wiped, they were never quite the same again.

The bodies they would inhabit would always look identical but Ajak knew there was a difference. There was always a difference.

There had been Sprite’s that were constantly spinning tales. Sprite’s that preferred poetry to showmanship. Sprite’s that actually preferred to be considered a boy, something that Ajak would embrace with love and pride. Sprite’s that were somehow even more hyperactive than this one, constantly bouncing from task to task. There were Sprite’s who were very openly loving, hugging tightly anyone around her while there were also Sprite’s who struggled with body contact at all.

This particular Sprite, out of all Sprite’s Ajak had had the honour of getting to know, was the most quick witted. Always a sarcastic comment to be said, always a clever ploy to be enacted. Always an engaging story to be told.

If Sprite died from her wounds today she would be remade for the next world. But the Sprite Ajak knew right now would be gone forever.

Ajak ran her fingers through Sprite’s hair. The girl’s shivers stopped and she leaned into the touch. Slowly, so slowly, her eyes fluttered.

“Ajak? Where am-“

“No no, don’t try to move…” Ajak set a hand on Sprite’s shoulder, keeping her from sitting. The girl was already trembling again. “It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.” Sprite’s voice cracked.

“Shh… It’s okay… I’m right here, everything’s going to be okay.”

“It hurts.”

“I know, Sweetheart. You’ve been so brave so far, just hold on a little longer.”

Ajak leaned over the girl, pressing her lips on Sprite’s forehead. When she pulled away, her hand was already hovering over Sprite’s abdomen, glittering gold stitching together her skin. Sprite gasped, her whole body jolting as Ajak’s ability worked. She barely held back a sob and Ajak felt guilt tear deep into her very being for having caused Sprite any more hurt.

Then Ajak remembered a way that always seemed to calm Sprite. She hummed, nothing more than a simple tune at first, but it eventually became a song. Sprite blinked back tears, her dulled eyes latching onto Ajak. It took a while for Ajak to even recognise the tune she was humming but at least it was helping Sprite a little.

Ajak began to sing.

“Of all the comrades that e’er I had, they’re sorry for my going away. And all the sweethearts that I e’er had, they would wish me one more day to stay.”

This wasn’t just about the Sprite that lay dying in front of her right now. This was for every Sprite she lost over centuries. For every Makkari who wouldn’t get her message heard. Every Druig who tried and failed to keep beings from fighting each other. For every Kingo who pretended to be obnoxious but was always so thoughtful and kind.

“But since it fell into my lot, that I should rise and you should not.”

Every Ikaris who took too much responsibility for things out of his control. Every Sersi that fell in love with a civilisation that was being raised for the slaughter. Every Gilgamesh that felt like the world was on his shoulders and he would never be worthy of the power he had been given. Every Thena who gave her entire soul to protecting the innocent people, no matter the cost. For every Phastos that cried for the lives that was lost due to his creations, always so desperate to make up for mistakes that he hadn’t even been the one to make.

Ajak was singing for all those she had lost and for all those she was still yet to lose.

“I’ll gently rise and softly call, good night and joy be to you all.”

Sprite’s eyes slid shut and her breathing evened out. The blood that had once stained her skin disappeared, as if she had never even been injured at all.

Ajak sat beside the sleeping girl, taking a moment just to appreciate the colour returning to her skin, her breathing at last deep, slow, consistent. Sprite was alive and she was going to be okay. This time. Ajak didn’t know how much longer she would be able to protect those she considered to be family. The cycle of birth, death, rebirth would still continue and Ajak alone was left to bear the weight of all those years.

The others filtered back into the lab slowly, a few at a time. Gilgamesh brought along food, Kingo’s comforting hand on the mans shoulder. Makkari had hesitated by the door of the lab, feeling out the vibrations to make sure everything was alright before she dragged Druig in by the arm. Druig went to complain but Ajak could see his warm smile a mile away, the smile that only Makkari could draw out from him. Sersi made the remaining blood disappear from the stone table and Ikaris returned at last from the north, only letting himself relax when Ajak assured him that Sprite was just resting and was not unconscious.

Thena at last managed to get some sleep, taking two large plates of food from Gilgamesh and only eating half of it before she was propped up against the table on which Sprite slept, her own eyes closed and her breathing even. Phastos followed her soon after, his head now leaning on Thena’s shoulder. After Gilgamesh finished eating his own fill, Gilgamesh took Thena’s other side and slowly his arms wrapped around her and she relaxed into his warm hold.

Kingo was sprawled out on Phastos’ lap, taking up even more room than any of the others, his usually glowing face more subdued, his eyes a little puffy. Sersi was perched on top of the table, beside Sprite, her fingers combing through Sprite’s hair. Ikaris watched from a distance, his own smile weary but warm. He must be exhausted going that distance twice over.

Eventually all but Ajak was asleep and she sighed to herself, capturing the memory of her family all joining as one in case this was the last time.

Chapter Text

Sprite didn’t know when the pain had stopped.

For what had seemed like an eternity, her entire body had been in agony and yet as she stirred the pain didn’t stir with her. She felt warm but instead of the unyielding fire that had plagued her veins for hours, this warmth was comfortable and familiar. Somebody was hugging her.

It was nice to lay like this, the weight of an arm strewn across her body, holding her close. She heard a soft snoring, not from the person hugging her but a little further away. Sleep threatened to take her once more but curiosity got the better of her. Who exactly was holding her and how had the pain finally stopped.

One eye cracked open and Sprite saw a glint of green armour. Sersi?

Sersi was asleep, her eyes closed and breathing even. Sprite readjusted a little in Sersi’s arms and the woman hummed, holding her a little tighter. Sprite nestled into her arms, feeling loved. She was safe in Sersi’s arms, everything was right in the world as long as she could stay here in her warm embrace.

Sprite let her own eyes droop again.

Sersi was with her. Everything was okay. But Sersi must hate her. No, Sersi didn’t hate her. Sprite blinked quickly, her awareness snapping back again as her own thoughts betrayed her. If Sersi truely hated her then she wouldn’t be laying here asleep, Sprite was simply overthinking.

But was it truely overthinking? If Sersi was sleeping here instead of in her own room then that meant she stayed up all night with Sprite. It was Sprite’s fault that she hadn’t gotten enough sleep, it was Sprite’s fault that Sersi may have worried.

Sersi must hate her.

Sprite gritted her teeth, realising that her hands had started shaking. She didn’t know when these terrible thoughts of self hate had begun, all she knew was that it was long before she had seen the Deviant in the woods. She tried to overcome these stupid thoughts, the Eternals loved her and she loved them and yet she wanted to scream that if they really hated her they should just say as much.

She couldn’t just wait for Sersi to awake, not if it meant that Sersi would remember just how pathetic she was. Sprite had to get away, she had to leave this warm embrace before it suffocated her. Sprite moved slowly, inch by inch, making sure that Sersi remained asleep. At last she was free, her hands still shaking, and she was able to look around the room.

Sprite narrowed her eyes. She didn’t remember how she had gotten to Phastos’ lab and yet when she looked around, all of her family members were there. Sersi was still sleeping on the stone slab table, humming in her sleep. Makkari was slouched sideways on a throne that Sprite didn’t recognise, Druig leaning up against it, his head tilted forward and his eyes closed.

Even Phastos was asleep, a miracle in itself, with Kingo sprawled out on top of him and Gilgamesh and Thena not far away. It was Gilgamesh that was snoring, Sprite realised, though just as she noted that Phastos started snoring even louder.

Ajak had one arm curled around Thena, and Sprite forced down a stab of jealousy. What was there to be jealous of, just because Ajak’s hugs were always so warm and welcoming didn’t mean they belonged solely to Sprite. The spiralling self hatred came back in full force.

Sprite wasn’t a child in need of her mothers hug. She was an Eternal, she shouldn’t expect to be coddled the way a human would be. Sprite ran a shaking hand through her hair, surpassing a sob. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t wake them, any of them, not when she had been the reason for them all being here.

Sprite stilted towards the door, her lungs starving for oxygen as she tried to suppress any sound she could make. The moment she was in the hallway Sprite allowed herself to take a breath and she nearly choked on it.

This was ridiculous. She couldn't even face her own family, left shaking in a hallway with tears burning in her eyes.

“Sprite.”

She whirled.

Ikaris was standing there, his arms crossed, leaning up against the door to the lab. He looked exhausted. Was that her fault too?

“Hi.” Sprite said.

Hi? Hi? Was that really the best she could say? The most incredible man in all of existence was standing a few metres away from her and all she could manage without crying was hi? She wanted to scream. Needed to scream.

“Hi.” Ikaris said and when he said it it was the most beautiful word. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“You know.” Sprite shrugged. Was that too casual? Too stilted? Why was this so hard?  “Around.”

Sprite knew she was shaking but she couldn’t stop it. A flash of memory returned to her, Thena’s look of shock when Sprite had accidentally dropped the illusion of being okay. She couldn’t cast another illusion now, it would only make Ikaris more suspicious of her. She had stopped breathing again.

“Around?” Ikaris quirked a brow, apparently amused. “You know, you really worried everybody.”

Of course she knew that. It was exactly why she couldn’t stay here and the longer they talked the more likely it was that the others would wake up. She could barely face Ikaris’ disappointment let alone everybody else’s.

Sprite realised all too slowly that she had hesitated to respond.

“I’m okay now.” She rushed out.

“I can see that.” Ikaris said.

Why was she so awkward with him? Sersi was always so relaxed around him, her soothing voice never missing a beat and yet here Sprite was, hiding shaking hands behind her, her brain struggling to come up with something to say other than help me.

She didn’t want to listen to her thoughts. She didn’t want to be internally screaming at such a simple interaction. She wanted to go back to sleep surrounded by those she loved, she wanted to stay with them all forever.

“I’ll be going now.” Sprite whispered.

She went to leave.

“You’re still weak, you shouldn’t-“

Sprite’s head snapped back like she had been slapped. Ikaris’ eyes widened as if he realised his misstep but before he could backtrack she summoned a shield of invisibility over her. Disgust and rage filled her, at last vindicated in her own safe hate.

Ikaris did think she was weak. And if Ikaris, perfect Ikaris, couldn’t even stand the sight of her then what was the point in any of this? She was the weak link of the incredible Eternals. It would do them all better if she just left. She had wasted their time, needing to tend to her when they could have been hunting Deviants and protecting Humans.

The familiar burn of tears was nothing compared to the deep hurt in her heart.

So lost in her own thoughts, she barely registered having left the warmly lighted Domo, coming out into the crisp air. The dawn was only just breaking. It had been hours since she had been last outside, though it felt like mere seconds ago. Memories mingled with darkness. She remembered her own screams and yet it all felt so disconnected.

It was like that when Ajak healed you. You could remember the pain. You could remember the heat, the fear, the anguish. But when you looked down, your physical body was all normal once more and your mind was left reeling. You weren’t allowed to complain about injuries that were no longer there.

Sprite’s hands were shaking but she didn’t let the illusion fall in case Ikaris had followed after her. She was back to square one, desperately trying to hide how she was actually feeling to the people around her that were meant to care about her.

She recalled Sersi’s soothing voice, Thena’s comforting presence. Phastos promising her again and again that the next one will work, please just hold on. When she closed her eyes she could almost feel Ajak’s lips against her forehead again. All of them loved her so much and yet she simply couldn’t understand why.

Why would they choose to love somebody who couldn’t even kill one damn Deviant by themselves? Why would they choose to care for a girl who stormed away from a party in tears just because she was jealous? Who would have the patience for all her pranks, all her outbursts, all her stories, all her confusion.

There were ten of them. Sent by Arishem to aid in the development of humankind. Surely they could manage on their own, without her, it wasn’t like she was any use to them over the past hundreds of years.

She should return to Olympia.

Sersi would never have to change her plans because Sprite got too bored of an event. Thena and Gilgamesh wouldn’t have to look out for her on the battlefield, knowing that she would make a mistake and get herself or others hurt. Druig wouldn’t have to humour her and her sly remarks and Kingo could rest peacefully knowing she wasn’t planning her next prank against him. Makkari would never have to ask her to slow down with what she was saying and Phastos’ lab would be protected from her wonderings and explorations. Ajak would never have to waste time on healing her again, as much as Sprite would miss her warm hugs.

And Ikaris… Ikaris would never have to look at her in pity again. He would be free to spend the rest of eternity by Sersi’s side, never having to realise just how much Sprite loved him.

She would return to Olympia and the other Eternals would at last know peace.

But only Arishem had the ability to take her home. And because Sprite was so pathetic, she hadn’t the ability to contact Arishem outside of Ajak. And she wasn’t yet ready to go back to Ajak, not until she knew for certain she could ask to be taken back home without crying.

The decision had to be done maturely. One final act to prove that while she would be forever trapped in the body of a child, she could still have some semblance of pride. Until then, Sprite would remain on her own. She couldn’t disappoint anybody if she was alone.

————————————————————

Ikaris had gone after her.

Sprite was his little sister and he had upset her, saying something as stupid as Sprite being weak. He knew she wasn’t, of course she wasn’t. Sprite had single handedly taken down the biggest Deviant he had ever seen and had been able to maintain a convincing illusion, fooling both himself and Sersi, when she must have been in agony.

But even outside of defeating the Deviant, Sprite had always remained so steadfast and proud in all she did. She could inspire entire cities, give hope in times that were filled with nothing but pain, plague and war. Sprite crafted the most incredible stories, stories that sometimes even influenced his own actions.

Ikaris had gone after Sprite the moment he regained his own composure but she was already gone but even when he left the Domo he didn’t see her anywhere. Ikaris shot up off of the ground, looking around the forest for a flash of teal. While he could see the remains of the Deviant miles away, there was no sign of Sprite. She must be somewhere but with her strength returned to her, no longer bleeding and dying, she would be able to maintain a shade of invisibility indefinitely.

Landing once more, he dragged a hand down his face.

Sprite had barely survived the day and yet he had immediately done the wrong thing, having hoped to convince her to rest not because she was weak but because she had been so strong for so long she deserved the break.

Somebodies arms wrapped around his torso, their head pressed to his spine and Ikaris had to take a deep breath before he could speak.

“The others?” Ikaris asked numbly.

“Still asleep.” Sersi said into his back. “It’s been a rough night.”

“Rough day too.” Ikaris huffed.

He let silence lapse over them, not pulling away from her arms. She must have awoken during his conversation with Sprite, if that could be called a conversation. She knew that Sprite had stormed off and how it had been all his fault.

“I didn’t mean it.” He said.

“I know.” Sersi replied gently.

“Sprite isn’t weak.”

“I know.” Sersi repeated. “But she did almost die. She needs time to process that.”

“I can’t even process it.” Ikaris said with a jolting laugh. “If I had known she was hurt sooner… I could have found Ajak faster. She wouldn’t have had to go through so much. This is my fault.”

“No.”

Sersi twisted around him, cupping his cheek and waiting until he met her beautiful eyes.

“This is nobodies fault. Not yours, not Sprite’s.” Sersi hesitated. “Not mine.”

“Why didn’t she trust us with the truth?” Ikaris asked, hating how his voice cracked.

The beat before her words was even longer this time. Sersi always knew everything, she was always so clear with her intentions and her emotions. But now she just looked lost. Ikaris felt guilt tear at him, remembering that while he had just been worried for Sprite as he flew to and back from the Northern Village, Sersi had actually been with Sprite and was there for much of her suffering.

“We all hide things.” Sersi said at last. “To protect ourselves. To protect others. Maybe Sprite felt that she needed to keep her injury secret. We can only be there for her when she’s ready to talk about it.”

Sersi didn’t seem to believe her own words. Was she still processing her own feelings from seeing Sprite so sickly?

Ikaris embraced Sersi tightly, kissing the top of her head. If they were both feeling lost then at least they could be lost together.

————————————————————

Makkari was at her wits end.

Two days had dragged by since Sprite had been healed and not a single person had seen her since. Makkari was standing outside Sprite’s door, her foot tapping quickly, even though she knew full well that Sprite wasn’t there.

Makkari would feel the occasional hint of Sprite, the vibrations that were unique to the girl fluttering for moments at a time before disappearing again as if Sprite was trying to mask her own behaviour. Sprite hadn’t fully left the Domo, which was a relief as Makkari had been terrified that she might challenge another Deviant. But even if she hadn’t completely left, the illusionist had still remained hidden from each of them.

Makkari barely noticed the tapping foot outside of her own. She glanced up to find that Ajak was now beside her.

“Did you find her?” Makkari demanded, hope surging in her chest.

"You know what Sprite's like.” Ajak said. “If she doesn't want to be found, she won't be. We just have to be patient."

"I've been patient." Makkari countered. “Look at this face. This is my patient face.”

Ajak threw her head back and laughed and while Makkari couldn’t hear it she cherished it all the same.

They strolled down the hallway together, Ajak giving Makkari her full attention and responding in turn in both sign and verbal speech, twisting to face her even as they walked.

“I know you and Druig had an argument. Do you want to talk about it?”

Makkari ducked her head.

She had hoped that nobody had noticed the altercation. It hadn’t even been too serious, Druig was simply as stressed as she was and he had accidentally said something he shouldn’t have. They had made up, as much as they could make up when Druig was still so pent up with complicated emotions, and she had left him to cool off in his room.

“It’s okay Makkari.” Ajak said. “We’re all still worried about Sprite. It’s to be expected that emotions are running a little high.”

“I hate this.” Makkari said. She blinked back tears. “All of this is wrong.”

Ajak stopped walking. Without a single word, Ajak raised her arms. Makkari didn’t want to hug her, not when the tears were already so close to falling. She couldn’t crumble now, not when it hadn’t even been her who was hurt. But just remembering how pale Sprite had become was too much.

Makkari surged into Ajak’s arms, burying her head into Ajak’s shoulder.

Ajak held her tightly, a hand running down Makkari’s thick braid. Makkari didn’t know how long she stayed there, sobbing, but when she at last pulled away she felt lighter. She felt stronger for having depended on Ajak, strong enough that she resolved to be a shoulder to cry on for Sprite when Sprite was ready to accept the help.

Makkari raised a hand to her chin, tapping it before gesturing downwards.

“No need to thank me.” Ajak said, the ghost of tears in her own eyes. “I needed that too.”

Sharing one final hug, just as tight as the last, the two women made their way down the Domo to see if anybody else needed support right now.

————————————————————

Kingo knew exactly where Sprite was.

She was where she always went when hiding from the others; on the roof of the Domo. But he also knew that for whatever reason she needed to process some things by herself and he would just have to give her all the time she needed.

And if he noticed a cookie from Gilgamesh's freshly/stressly baked batch, Kingo would simply have to cover her when Gilgamesh noticed and shove one into his own mouth, saying just how delicious they were through the crumbs (not to say they weren't actually delicious, he thought as he grabbed another). If it meant Kingo could support his family when the needed it the most, then Kingo would do it.

It wasn't just Gilgamesh who was upset at Sprite's distance though. They could all feel it. She had been so sickly, so close to dying, and now she wouldn't even show herself to them.

And Kingo saw all of it. He saw how Druig was even grouchier than usual, snapping at anyone who approached him at all, even Makkari. Makkari herself seemed to be distracted and Kingo wondered if she was instead focusing on the vibrations in an attempt to work out where Sprite was.

Phastos was doing what he considered to be repairs to the Domo but it was more like taking everything around apart, leaving the pieces scattered on the ground in the best places for tripping hazards, before moving onto whatever he felt like dismantling next. Kingo was starting to wonder how despite all Phastos' rumblings around the Domo, he had never once thought to look up. Though, Kingo supposed, even if Phastos went to the roof of the ship Sprite could easily use her abilities to get the slip on him before he even noticed she was there.

Thena had thrown herself back into training but was working herself so hard that there were bags under her eyes whenever somebody dragged her over to a meal. Whoever had the misfortune of being Thena's sparring partner had it even worse and each of them had their fair share of bruises and hurt pride, the former of which Ajak would whisk away in a glittering wave of her hand while the latter she would just offer a grim smile and maybe even a hidden laugh.

But Ajak herself wasn't immune to Sprite-Induced-Stress. Ever the calm maternal one, she was desperate to comfort Sprite in whatever way she could but Sprite had to meet her halfway. Ajak turned her mothering onto the rest of them instead and Kingo barely gotten out of sparring with Thena only to instead get roped into 'relaxing breathing exercises'. Kingo didn't mind the meditation too much, it was nice to slow down sometimes, but even he had his limits and those limits had been reached and surpassed.

He wanted his family back to normal. And to do that Sprite had to be fully reintegrated into the group which could only happen when she was ready. But perhaps he could help get her to the stage of ready sooner rather than later if he just approached her outright.

Sneaking away from the others was easier than he expected, it’s not like any of the others ever noticed his absence. Kingo was just that annoying hang on that would assist the fighters when needed and assist the thinkers when needed. He was the odd one out, not quite fitting into either group.

Sprite had her place though and he would do anything to make her see just how loved she was.

He made sure to bring more cookies with him, the easiest way to get to somebodies heart was endless sweets. Though, he quickly realised, it was much harder to climb up onto the roof with only one hand.

At last he reached the top, no need to mention just how many times he had almost fallen down again, but nobody was there.

Kingo set the plate down and sat down, tilting his head back appreciating the warm sun.

He didn’t speak. If Sprite was really there and just hadn’t dropped her illusion yet then Kingo would wait until she was ready make the first move. And if she wasn’t there, having slipped away without him noticing, then it would feel a little silly to speak when nobody else was around.

But if Sprite was none for anything it was her stubbornness and spite. She didn’t say anything and she didn’t reach for a cookie. The minutes dragged on and Kingo’s stomach grumbled, the delicious cookies so close to him and yet not for him.

Kingo could be patient. Ten minutes passed and he started humming to himself. Another five and he was yawning. He leaned back until he was lying down, intending to pretend to doze but apparently he pretended too well, suddenly jolting back awake.

He looked around.

All the cookies were gone but so was Sprite, leaving Kingo alone on the roof with an empty plate and an empty heart.

————————————————————

Sersi didn’t know what had drawn her towards Sprite’s room. The girl wouldn’t be there in the same way that she hadn’t been there the last several times Sersi had checked. She knocked on the door all the same and pulled open the door.

Sprite’s room was a mess. Scrolls were littered around tomes, human clothes strewn around the floor. Paper cranes were next to wooden toys, prized possessions from almost every place they had been to throughout Earth. While Sersi had always loved getting to know all the different civilisations of humans throughout the world, Sprite loved every little thing that could be used to tell a story and had collected some of the strangest items.

It was nice to see Sprite’s things, even if they were a mess. It just went to show that it wasn’t only Sersi who loved being on Earth with the humans.

Managing a small smile, Sersi closed the door behind her.

She picked up the closest piece of clothing and folded it neatly. Setting it to the side, Sersi moved onto the next thing, realising that it was actually part of the formal outfit that Sprite had worn to Ikaris and Sersi’s wedding. Sersi perched on the edge of Sprite’s bed, holding the teal fabric close to her.

Sprite had been hurt. Worse than hurt, she had almost been killed. And nothing Sersi had done had helped sooth her, Sersi had been unable to do anything for the girl she loved so much.

“Sprite,” Sersi’s voice cracked in the empty room. “I am so sorry.”

They were lucky this time, Ajak had been able to heal her. But what if this happened all over again? What if for whatever reason Sprite felt as though she couldn’t depend on them and once again hid a severe injury except nobody would notice in time and she would actually succumb to her wounds.

Sersi didn’t know why she had lost Sprite’s trust and it pained her to even have to wonder.

“I should have been there for you.” Sersi continued. “I never want to lose you again, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You would be happier.” A voice said beside her.

Sersi barely stopped herself from jumping. She couldn’t see Sprite but she would recognise that voice anywhere.

“No.” Sersi said firmly.

“You would be.” Sprite mumbled. Her voice sounded raw, had she been crying? “All of you will be better off without me.”

Not would be. Will be. A rush of fear went through Sersi, realising that in the time that Sprite had been avoiding them she had made some kind of decision, a decision that while Sersi didn’t know what it was she knew it would be life altering.

The door opened, an invisible hand twisting the door knob.

Sersi surged towards it, not caring when the expensive garment fell to the floor, desperate for this to not be the last time she spoke to Sprite. She reached out, her hand gripping onto something. The air shimmered around her and when Sprite materialised, Sersi’s hand was still holding Sprite’s own, though the girl was facing towards the hallway, fully hiding her expression.

Sprite’s hand was shaking. That single fact made Sersi’s heart tear in two.

“Sprite, please. Just talk to me.”

“Let me go.” Sprite whispered.

“Not until you explain what’s going on.”

“I said let me go!” Sprite screamed, whipping around.

Tears were rolling down Sprite’s cheeks, a deep unspeakable pain flashing through her usually bright eyes. There was no blood on her and yet it was almost like Sprite was suffering even more than she had when she had been physically hurt.

“Sprite…” Sersi’s breath caught.

“It’s fine, okay?” Sprite snapped back. “Everything’s fine. I’m going home and you won’t have to put up with me anymore so just let go of me!”

Sersi wasn’t even holding Sprite’s hand too tightly, the girl could slip away at any moment. And yet she stayed, her body shivering, new tears mingling with the old. She looked exhausted. Sersi felt her own mind struggle to keep up with what was going on but she steeled herself anyway. Whatever was going on, Sprite needed her right now.

“You are home.” Sersi said.

“Don’t say that.”

“Sprite, we love you. We want you here, on Earth. This is home now.”

“Don’t say that!”

Sersi had never seen Sprite so overwhelmed, her eyes darting between Sersi and the rest of the room then to the hallway then back at Sersi. It was almost like Sprite couldn’t catch her breath either, a low moan escaping her lips.

“Did somebody say something to you?” Sersi asked.

“What? No. Just leave me alone!”

“Sprite, I know everything is confusing right now but I need to know what is going on so I can help you.”

Sprite shook her head, squeezing her eyes tightly. She started crying harder.

“Let’s get you sitting down, okay?”

While Sersi expected the girl to fight her, her legs simply crumpled beneath her and she slammed to the ground. Sersi joined her a moment later, not knowing if Sprite would prefer Sersi to not touch her or for Sersi to hold her tightly.

Sprite answered that very question, throwing herself into Sersi’s arms, her entire body jolting with sobs.

“I’m sorry!” Sprite spluttered.

“Shh… It’s okay… Everything’s going to be okay…”

Sersi rubbed circles onto Sprite’s back, her other hand smoothing down Sprite’s hair. Sersi heard Sprite mumbling into her chest but it took a while to recognise the words.

Sprite was calling herself pathetic. She was cursing herself out, claiming even now that she was somehow wasting Sersi’s time.

Sersi held Sprite out at arms length, meeting the girl’s shocked eyes before she spoke firmly.

“Why would you say that?”

“Just look at me!” Sprite sobbed.

“I am looking at you, Sprite. And I don’t see anything pathetic about you.”

“I hate this! I can’t do anything without feeling like I’m going to explode.”

“Everybody gets overwhelmed.” Sersi said.

“You don’t. You’re perfect.”

“I assure you, nobody is perfect, least of all me. I’ve cried at least three times today. And one of those was because I dropped my breakfast.”

Sprite choked back a laugh.

“No seriously,” Sersi said, latching onto Sprite’s attention. “You should have seen it. Food, everywhere. I thought Druig was going to have a heart attack, you know what he’s like about food.”

Sprite laughed fully this time, no doubt remembering the amount of pranks she has pulled on Druig that involved his constant need of snacking.

Shudders were still passing over Sprite but she seemed a little more focused at last, bringing up a shaking hand to try to wipe away the last of her tears. Finally her pent up energy left her completely in a single sigh and Sprite sagged a little, exhausted. Sersi cupped Sprite’s cheek and she leaned into it, closing her eyes in contentment. Then suddenly Sprite jolted upright, almost as if she realised that for some reason she couldn’t accept the affection.

Sersi let her hand drop.

She wanted to let the conversation drop also, move on and forget about Sprite being so upset and move onto happier times. But whatever had overwhelmed Sprite to this point must be serious and it needed to be addressed before she could spiral again.

“Did somebody say something to you?”

Sprite was instantly shaking her head but then she stopped just as quickly. Sprite glanced away, unable to meet Sersi’s eye.

“It’s nothing…” She mumbled.

“It’s obviously bothering you greatly.” Sersi said. “Please, let me in.”

For a moment Sersi feared that she had asked too much of Sprite too quickly, that the girl would retreat back into her shell and maybe even disappear again for several more days.

“Sersi…”

“Yes?”

“Why do I look like this?”

“Arishem made all of us in the image best suited to our roles.” Sersi said. “Sometimes kids need somebody that looks like them in order to feel safe.”

“But kids grow up.” Sprite said miserably. “I’m stuck like this.”

Sersi had never questioned her own appearance, she never had to. She knew that she was beautiful, she loved how long her hair was, how soft her skin was. Sersi loved what her body looked like and even if she could change it, she would probably just leave it the same.

But, then again, Sersi had never had to consider the extra baggage that came from having such a young looking body as somebody who had lived through centuries and would survive millennia to come. She had been ignorant to think that not everybody was as comfortable in their own skin as she was.

“You’ve grown.” Sersi said. “Maybe not physically but you’ve grown into your abilities. You make the most incredible tales, you inspire entire civilisations to do better. To be better. We could never have done any of this without you.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not lying.” Sersi said. “Humanity wouldn’t be the same without you there. The Eternals wouldn’t be the same without you there. If you really want to go back to Olympia, I can’t stop you. But I can assure you that I would never stop missing you.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes you do Sprite. I know it’s hard to believe, but I love you. So much. Everybody does. Ajak, Thena, Gilgamesh, Ikaris-“

Sprite jolted. She looked around frantically as if Ikaris had suddenly appeared in the room. Sersi didn’t understand why Sprite did that sometimes. She has claimed that it meant nothing but Sersi knew that Sprite always acted strangely around Ikaris, always showing off a little more, always being a little more prideful sometimes to the point of making mistakes. Then, other times, it’s like Sprite can’t even look Ikaris in the eye as if she hates his very core.

“My point is,” Sersi said, hoping to keep her focus. “We all love you and want you to be safe and happy. But that means that next time you see a Deviant when you are alone, you come and tell one of us.”

“Because I’m useless.”

“No, so we can fight it together. As a family. And you are part of that family, so stop telling yourself otherwise.”

“I don’t mean it.” Sprite mumbled. “I know you love me and I want to fight by your side but some days everything just gets so confusing and it’s like the world is exploding over the stupidest thing.”

“Then on those days, I will be there to remind you just how much you mean to all of us. I will try best as I can to help you make sense of the world, the same way you always cheer me up on my hard days. Okay?”

“…”

Sprite sucked in a deep breath. Then, at last, she spoke.

“Okay.”

This time when Sersi reached out her hand, Sprite met her halfway and melted into her touch.

Sprite may not be on deaths door anymore but that didn’t mean she had to suffer through her hardships alone. So for as long as Sprite needed her, Sersi would be there. Because that’s what family is for.

————————————————————

Ikaris was watching her again.

His heart grew warm as he watched Sersi dance around from his place by the edge of the crowd, growing warmer still when he noticed just how genuine Sprite’s smile was as the girl danced with her. The two of them had matching braided hair threaded through with flowers, flowers he had collected alongside him.

It had taken Sprite a while to muster the courage to admit to them her insecurities, holding Sersi’s hand tightly as she broke down crying, claiming that they all thought her the weak link. It had taken a mere moment for all of the Eternals to swarm her in a warm hug, promising her that they all loved her deeply and sincerely and had never once doubted her strength. Even now, Ikaris remembered just how proud he had been of her, he could never imagine facing his own doubts and insecurities head on like that let alone admitting his faults to the wider group.

Thena had made Sprite swear that she would never challenge a Deviant alone again, and Sprite in turn made Thena promise that she wouldn’t make the same mistake. Druig wasn’t always clear with his own feelings but even he seemed touched by Sprite’s openness and he assured her that while she could be a little brat sometimes, he was proud to consider her his sister.

Phastos had broken down crying alongside Sprite, begging for her forgiveness that he hadn’t been able to ease her pain but Sprite told him that his voice alone had brought her so much comfort even when the fire was lacing through her veins. Makkari was vibrating in excitement to be able to hug Sprite again and her hands moved so quickly with her expressions of love and respect that they were just a flurry of motion.

Kingo admitted that he had known that Sprite had taken refuge on the roof, which Sprite acknowledged and thanked him for the cookies, offering her different tips and tricks to make her face appear a little older if she wanted to though he assured her that she was perfect the way she was. In fact, the only reason why Sersi had found her in her room was because Sprite had been avoiding talking to Kingo, a fact that the man had taken in his stride, not minding that she had depended on somebody else to navigate her complicated feelings.

Gilgamesh had prepared a feast in his excitement that Sprite was okay, and was partly to blame for the impromptu secondary festival at which the Eternals were now attending. It was Gilgamesh’s belief that one could never have too many festivals but Ikaris didn’t fully agree with that sentiment, not one for such big crowds multiple times in a single week.

Ajak was just as relieved as the rest of them that everything was settling down once more. After the group hug that involved all of them, she made sure to embrace each of them individually, whispering affirmations of love and respect into their ears in case they needed the usually implicit feelings to be explicit.

One rule that Ajak had now instated was that all of them needed to be more open about their emotions, it wouldn’t do well for somebody to bottle everything up again and get into a dangerous situation like perhaps fighting a Deviant in order to prove that you’re not pathetic.

Ikaris wasn’t so sure about that rule being steadfast. It wasn’t like Ikaris would openly state that there was no reason to get attached to the humans in the event of new orders from Arishem, especially since admitting such a thing would upset Sersi. But if it made it a little easier for Sprite to admit whenever she was struggling then Ikaris was going to accept such a rule.

But for now, all that mattered was that Sprite was happy. She danced around with Sersi, the widest grin on her face, not needing a single illusion to hide anything. She wasn’t hiding her true feelings, or any of her insecurities anymore. And, most importantly, she wasn’t hiding any blood.

Sprite was letting them see her true self.

And that was truely a beautiful thing.