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生日快乐 (Shēngrì kuàilè)

Summary:

Sig is in for a bombastic birthday.

Notes:

Written for Week 7 (the finale) of Spring of Sigami
Prompt: "Sig's Birthday"

Art by WolfgangSchultz

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Amitie jolted upright in her bed, her tousled hair spilling like a wild cascade of fiery curls around her pillow. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs, as if trying to burst free. The dream—the strange, vivid jumble of Puyo pieces tumbling from a stormy purple sky, a talking carrot reciting wistful poetry about lost friendships, and Sig drifting by on the back of a giant stag beetle that shimmered with otherworldly light—faded as the first soft rays of dawn filtered through the window.

For a moment, she blinked, disoriented, trying to gather the fragments of that odd vision. Then a sharp, unmistakable sound made her freeze: a skittering shuffle and a tiny, gleeful chuckle from the foot of her bed.

There, perched with all the confidence of a mischievous sprite, was the grinning spider-creature. Its glossy black eyes gleamed with delight and a dash of chaos, its slender legs waving like antennae. “Good morning!” it chirped in a sing-song voice, tilting its head with playful curiosity.

Amitie’s eyes went wide, and before she could stop herself, a scream tore from her throat. “AAAAHHHH!” She grabbed the nearest pillow—her pink, fuzzy favorite—and hurled it with all her might.

The spider-creature dodged nimbly, laughing as it scuttled up the wall with astonishing speed, disappearing out the open window in a whirl of chittering giggles.

Panting, Amitie clutched the edge of her bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “...Wh-what the heck was that, man?!” she stammered, wiping the cold sweat off her brow.

Then her eyes snapped open with sudden realization. Today. Today was Sig’s birthday.

“Oh no! The cake! The decorations! The surprise plan!” Panic flooded her voice as she scrambled out of bed, her feet barely touching the floor before she grabbed her signature green hat and jammed it on crookedly, like a warrior donning armor.

She practically flew down the stairs—nearly tripping over the bouncing bundle of energy that was her little brother, Coquin, who was already humming a cheerful tune.

“Coquin!” she called breathlessly, rummaging through drawers and cupboards with growing urgency. “Have you seen the streamers? The confetti? The bug-shaped candles?!” Her hands were everywhere at once.

Coquin giggled, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I saw Lidelle carrying them out back! She said something about keeping them safe from ‘pranksters.’” He grinned wider. “But maybe the prankster’s you, Nee-chan!”

“No time to argue!” Amitie shot back with a playful scowl, ruffling his unruly hair as she dashed out the door.

Outside, the morning sun cast a warm golden glow over the village. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and freshly baked bread drifting from the market. Amitie’s boots pounded the cobblestones as she followed Coquin’s teasing clue toward the school courtyard.

She almost collided with Lidelle, who was delicately arranging the bug-shaped candles—each one a tiny masterpiece of frosting and sugar—beside a towering, triple-layer cake. The cake itself was a work of art, decorated with frosting beetles crawling among sugar-spun spider webs that shimmered in the light.

“A-Amitie!” Lidelle squeaked, hands steadying the cake with a nervous grip. “Please be careful! This took hours!”

“Sorry, Lidelle!” Amitie grinned sheepishly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is everything ready? We can’t let Sig see any of this yet. Raffina will flip if we mess up the timing.”

Lidelle nodded quickly, cheeks flushed with a mix of exertion and excitement. “R-Raffina said she went to pick up Sig for the, um, ‘casual stroll’ before the surprise.”

From behind a tall oak, Klug emerged, clutching a bundle of books and scrolls that looked far too heavy for his slender frame. His glasses caught the sunlight as he adjusted them with a furrowed brow. “And I suppose I’m to manage the fireworks,” he muttered dryly. “Really, I should be studying—”

“Oh hush, Klug,” Coquin teased from an upstairs window, waving a hand. “You’re just grumpy because Accord told you to take a break.”

Amitie shot her brother a sharp look. “Not the time, Coquin!”

Klug sniffed but said no more, instead crouching to inspect a small rocket inscribed with glowing runes. He tapped a rune carefully, eyes narrowing. “This is either going to be a delightful party or the end of civilization as we know it.”

Amitie swallowed hard at the ominous prediction, her excitement tinged with just a hint of nervousness.


Meanwhile, Raffina walked alongside Sig through the bustling streets of the village, doing her best to keep his attention focused on anything other than the surprise waiting back home. It wasn’t an easy task. Sig’s bright eyes darted from one corner to the next, lingering on every beetle skittering across the cobblestones, every butterfly flitting lazily between blossoms, every tiny insect that caught his notice.

“Sig! Do try to keep up,” Raffina urged, trying to inject as much cheer into her voice as possible. “We wouldn’t want to be late for your... uh... lunch appointment with Maguro and Ringo!” She forced a light laugh, though she felt the sweat bead on her brow. Distracting Sig was proving tougher than she’d imagined.

Sig blinked slowly, then followed a ladybug inching its way up a weathered fence post with the kind of childlike wonder that made Raffina’s heart ache a little. “Oh. Okay.” His voice was soft, but those twinkling eyes gave her the distinct impression he wasn’t entirely convinced.

They turned a corner together, only to nearly collide with a trio skulking in a narrow alleyway. Arle, Schezo, and Rulue were awkwardly clustered near a stack of crates, behind which an assortment of party supplies was poorly concealed—streamers, balloons, and a suspiciously large box labeled “For Sig’s Big Surprise!”

Raffina groaned and pressed her palm to her forehead. “Really? You guys?”

Schezo’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson as he shoved a stray streamer behind his back. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Good morning, Sig!” Arle chimed brightly, forcing an overly sweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Arle, what the—?!” Raffina groaned again, shooting daggers at her friends.

But Sig only smiled gently, as if in on the secret. He crouched down carefully and cradled a bright blue butterfly that had landed softly on his palm. “Morning,” he said quietly before turning away to let the butterfly go, watching it drift off on the breeze.

Rulue sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Leaning close, she whispered to Raffina with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, “They’re all hopeless at this.”


Back at the party site, the atmosphere buzzed with a mixture of excitement and mild chaos as the last decorations were hurriedly put in place. Ringo and Maguro worked together, carefully stringing up colorful banners that proudly proclaimed HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIG! The breeze, however, seemed determined to sabotage their efforts, whipping the banners around until the letters scrambled into comical phrases like APPY BIR S! and HAPY BDAY GI! Fortunately, Risukuma appeared just in time, propping the banners upright with a well-placed stick and a satisfied nod.

Nearby, Draco arrived, expertly balancing a towering fruit platter on her head. The vibrant colors of melon slices, berries, and citrus gleamed under the sun, drawing appreciative oohs and ahhs from the group. Witch, meanwhile, was experimenting with a delicate enchantment on the refreshments, hoping to make the drinks magically refill themselves throughout the party. Her attempts were met with mixed success; while most of the glasses behaved, one unlucky cup suddenly sprouted leaves and flowers, transforming into a tiny potted plant that sat blinking innocently atop the table.

At the entrance, Satan struck a dramatic pose, spreading his arms wide as if addressing an audience of thousands. “Today, we celebrate not just Sig’s birth,” he announced with theatrical flair, “but the grand tapestry of destiny that weaves us all together—”

“Please stop,” Witch groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her tone was equal parts exasperated and amused, as if she’d heard this speech a hundred times too many.


Maya and Lilliane dashed through Primp’s narrow, winding side streets, their arms overflowing with last-minute party favors — colorful bags stuffed with confetti, tiny magical trinkets, and an assortment of sweet treats. Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns that danced teasingly on the cobblestones beneath their feet. The air was alive with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of villagers going about their day.

Suddenly, the girls skidded to a halt as a shadow fell across the path. From a narrow alleyway stepped the notorious Shadow Brigade, a group both feared and admired for their mastery of shadow magic. Mira stood at the forefront, arms crossed, her cool gaze scanning the surroundings with quiet authority. Bosco lounged lazily against the brick wall, a smirk playing on his lips. Prolang adjusted the leather gloves on her hands with practiced precision, Diskmin twirled a glowing disc of energy between his fingers, and Webb dangled upside-down from a low branch, his expression one of amused indifference.

“Hey, Mira!” Maya called out, jogging forward with a hopeful grin that brightened her face. “You guys busy?”

Mira’s lips curved into a slight, almost imperceptible smile. “We’re always busy, Maya,” she said smoothly, voice like velvet wrapped around steel. “Shadow magic doesn’t master itself.”

Lilliane stepped up beside Maya, adding cheerfully, “We’re throwing a party for Sig! Want to come? Maybe even perform a shadow trick or two?”

Bosco snorted, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “We don’t do parties.”

“Yeah,” Prolang agreed, flipping her braid with a sharp flick. “We don’t do cute.”

Maya’s hopeful smile faltered for a moment, but then she summoned her ultimate weapon: the biggest, most pleading puppy-dog eyes she could manage. “Please? Just one trick? For my big brother?”

A brief silence fell over the group. Mira rubbed her temples as the others exchanged groans and reluctant looks.

“Ugh. Fine,” Mira sighed, a hint of reluctant warmth in her voice. “One trick. But only because you begged.”


 

Meanwhile, Amitie zoomed through the bustling halls of Primp Magic School, her energy contagious as she handed out glittering invitations like handfuls of confetti. The soft hum of magical chatter and footsteps filled the air, the vibrant atmosphere reflecting the excitement building around Sig’s birthday.

In a quiet corner of the library, Tsuki Mikoto sat cross-legged on a cushioned window seat, deeply immersed in a dense tome about astral alignment. Amitie breezed over, waving a sparkling invitation card under Tsuki’s nose with a wide grin.

“Birthday party for Sig!” Amitie announced cheerfully. “You’re coming, right?”

Tsuki blinked slowly, adjusting her glasses as she considered the offer. “I suppose... that sounds pleasant,” she murmured, her voice soft and thoughtful. “I hope Klug’s there.” Her gaze drifted briefly to where Klug was buried in an arcane manuscript nearby, muttering to himself as he scribbled runes.

Amitie gave a quick nod and a wink, then sped off.

In the courtyard, Katrina “Kat” Davis practiced a swirling fire spell, the flames dancing gracefully between her fingertips. Nearby, Ed Donovan and Audrey Watters were deep in debate, their animated gestures punctuating discussions about magical theory and elemental affinities. Amitie dashed past, dropping invitations into their hands without missing a beat.

“Don’t be late!” she called out, her smile bright and infectious.

Ricky Klassen caught her wrist with a cheerful high-five as she streaked by. At a picnic table, Hailey, Holly, Bolly, Billy, and Tommy huddled together, their laughter bubbling over as they whispered excitedly about cake and decorations.

Across the courtyard, Tin Pan Arnold, tapping rhythms on a set of drums conjured from thin air, simply tipped his hat in quiet thanks as Amitie handed him an invitation. The steady beat of his drums seemed to sync with the growing anticipation surrounding the upcoming celebration.


Far beyond the cozy streets of Primp, the Spacetime Detective Agency headquarters groaned under the strain of ongoing repairs. Sparks sputtered and crackled as exposed wiring twisted like restless serpents, panels hung precariously from the ceiling, and the air was tinged with the sharp scent of ozone and burnt circuitry. The hum of malfunctioning machinery mixed with the occasional clang of tools hitting metal.

Atari wiped the sweat from her brow, her brows furrowed as she scanned the room. “We’re nowhere near ready,” she muttered, kicking a stray bolt across the floor.

Roquier crouched beside a shattered console, fingers tracing the jagged edges of broken circuitry. “I’m telling you, we need at least another week to get this place operational again,” he said, voice heavy with frustration.

Seo leaned back against a battered workbench, crossing her arms. “Or we pull an all-nighter and get it done in three days,” she replied, a wry smirk playing on her lips. “Sleep is overrated.”

Before either could respond, a sudden pop of shimmering magic energy burst in the air like a tiny firework. A swirl of warm pink light coalesced into a familiar figure — Amitie, bouncing in with a grin so wide it practically lit up the grimy room.

“Hi-hi! Sig’s birthday! You’re invited!” she chirped, thrusting shiny, candy-colored invitations into their hands with the enthusiasm of a sugar-high.

And then — pop! — she was gone, leaving behind a faint sparkle and a faint scent of strawberries.

The detectives blinked, staring at the empty spot where she’d just been.

Atari finally broke the silence with a tired but amused smile. “…I guess we’re going to a party.”

Roquier cracked a rare grin. “Guess we’d better finish up faster, huh?”

Seo shook her head, chuckling. “You’re both hopeless.”


 

Amitie’s next warp shimmered through space and time, depositing her right in the cozy, sunlit clubroom of the Light Academy. The gentle scent of blooming flowers filled the air from a meticulously tended window garden where Floré knelt, her hands gently pruning a vibrant cluster of luminous petals. Ciel and Roco sat nearby, locked in a fierce but friendly game of magical chess—their pieces glowing softly as they floated above the board. Lux leaned back in a chair, quietly paging through an ancient tome, while Abyss lurked in a shadowed corner, scribbling cryptic notes in his ever-present journal.

“Birthday party! Sig! You’re all coming!” Amitie burst in, her voice bright and full of excitement as she thrust colorful invitations into their hands.

Lux closed his book with a warm smile. “Sounds like a wonderful break. Count me in.”

Roco’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he nodded. “I’m definitely in! Sig’s birthday is important.”

Floré hesitated, fingers lingering on a delicate petal. “But…the other students, what will they say? We have responsibilities…”

Amitie’s smile broadened, her tone light but persuasive. “Teachers say it’s good to take breaks! And this will be fun — a perfect chance to relax and celebrate.”

Ciel’s brows furrowed in concern, but then softened as she caught Amitie’s hopeful gaze. “…Fine. Just for a little while,” she relented, her competitive spirit conceding to friendship.

From the shadows, Abyss groaned softly, rolling his eyes but slipping the invitation into his pocket. “If I must… but only because it’s Sig’s birthday.”

A faint warmth seemed to spread through the room, and for a moment, even Abyss looked almost… content.


 

Elsewhere, Arle moved through the bustling corridors of Primp, a stack of brightly colored invitations tucked under her arm. She smiled warmly as she approached Alex, who was leaning casually against a wall. She looked up with a spark of interest when Arle handed her an invite.

“A party, huh?” Alex grinned, her eyes lighting up. “Sounds like just the break we need. Count me in.”

Next, Arle found Rebecca sitting quietly on a bench, her hood pulled low over her eyes. She glanced up, the faintest smile tugging at her lips as Arle offered the invitation.

“Oh, I suppose it would be rude not to go,” Rebecca said with a soft chuckle, adjusting her hood back in place. “Especially if it’s for Sig.”

Wynn appeared next, meticulously polishing one of her gleaming knives with a calm and focused air. She nodded gracefully as she accepted the invite.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said simply, her voice steady and confident.

Finally, Arle caught up with Chiquita, who was skipping down the hall with infectious energy. The moment she saw the invitation, she threw both arms in the air and whooped.

“Party time! Yessss!” Chiquita exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement.

As Arle finished handing out the last invitation, a flicker of hesitation crossed her mind. She hadn’t stopped by Grace’s usual haunt—the glacial edge of town where the air itself seemed to freeze.

Grace, the Ice Queen, had always been a bit of a mystery to everyone. Her cold aura made even the warmest rooms feel like winter, and though her icy demeanor kept most at arm’s length, there were whispers that beneath it all, she wasn’t as untouchable as she seemed.

Arle sighed softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Inviting Grace wasn’t as simple as handing over a colorful card. Would she even want to come? Would they even be welcome?

Arle pressed the invitation against her notebook, smoothing it carefully with her fingertips. The cardstock was a riot of color — streamers, confetti, a smiling Sig — a symbol of warmth and celebration.

She turned down a side path that lead toward the outskirts of town, where the grass grew sparse and the trees were heavy with frost, their branches glimmering in the weak sunlight. The farther she went, the colder the air became, until each exhale appeared as a small cloud of steam.

“Grace?” Arle called softly. “Are you there?”

Silence fell — then a slight crackling as ice formations grew, creeping up nearby fence posts.

Across a clearing, a solitary figure stood, draped in a heavy white-blue cloak. Grace turned slowly, piercing blue eyes glimmering beneath her hood. The icy aura that radiated from her kept most people at a distance — but not Arle.

“That… kind… invitation you’re delivering… I presume I’m not meant to be a recipient.” Grace’s voice was calm — glacial — yet with a vulnerable tremor that barely fell from her normally impassive delivery.

“That’s not true.” Arle held up the invitation, its colors a dramatic contrast against the barren landscape. “Sig’s birthday… it’s a celebration for everyone. And that includes you, Grace. We’d really like you to come.”

For a moment, there was silence. The ice formations grew a little more. Then, slowly, a small crack appeared in the icy barrier surrounding Grace — just a sign, perhaps, that something was beginning to warm.

Grace turned away. “I… I'll think about it.”

Arle nodded, reluctantly turning back toward the path, the invitation still in her hand — but with a growing feeling that something might be changing.


Ringo pressed her back against a thick trunk, glancing nervously over her shoulder. The clearing was alive with movement — creatures scampering, friends laughing, magic glimmering in every corner — but there was a group that hadn’t gotten their invitation yet.

“The Accursed Knights...” Ringo whispered to herself, tugging a shimmering envelope from her pouch. “I’m not sure if I’m brave or crazy to invite them… but Sig’s birthday isn’t complete without everyone.”

She darted forward, following a path through the outskirts of the clearing until the trees grew thick and wild — a place rumored to be a refuge for those battling their own demons. The further in she went, the less the riotous magic of the clearing seemed to reach her; instead, a heavy silence fell, broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Ringo turned a corner and fell upon a dramatic scene:

The Accursed Knights were training, their weapons alive with power.

Hilda was spinning her scythe gracefully, its purple aura shimmering with a sinister yet wild energy. Her laugh — normally a symptom of her curse — seemed pure in its chaos, a reflection of the conflict within her soul.
Eldur struck a training dummy with his heavy mace, pausing just a moment afterwards due to his delayed responses. “…One… chain… two… chain… wait… pyon★…”
Fried hopped forward, a pair of bunnies bouncing at his side. His small creatures glimmered with magic — much less threatening than their master, who insisted, “Attack pyon★! pyon★ pyon★ pyon★!!”
Wacht stood a few paces back, shaking his head, trying to clear the bug-like buzzing from his mind — his grip faltering on his twin swords with each pulse.
Mappela slipped in her own trail of slime, nearly fell, then recovered gracefully, their blade glimmering faintly through the gunk that covered them.

Ringo swallowed, steeling herself. “E-Excuse me...” she called quietly. “I… um… I come with a… birthday invitation… for Sig…”

The group fell silent — or fell into their respective routines.
Hilda’s laugh grew a bit more piercing — then fell away.
Eldur paused, confused, tilting his heavy mace slightly.
Fried hopped forward — pyon★ pyon★ pyon★ — tilting his head in a silent question.
Wacht tightened his grip, reluctantly turning toward her, his knuckles white against his sword handles.
Mappela slipped forward, nearly fell, then forced herself to remain upright, a nervous gleam in their eyes.

Ringo held up the envelope, its shimmering surface glimmering faintly in the dim clearing. “Sig’s birthday party… Everyone’s invited… I—I know you’re a bit… unconventional… but… we’d really be delighted if you came…”

For a moment, there was silence — then a chorus of magic flared as their respective auras glimmered. The Accursed Knights exchanged glances — a fleeting moment of understanding and unity. Without a word, they nodded — a collective affirmation that they would be there.

Ringo turned away, smiling warmly. “See you there... p-please… be kind...” The last words fell quietly, a nervous wish that the Accursed Knights might bring peace instead of chaos to the celebration — just this once.

 


Amitie pressed forward through the bustling Pride Fest, letting the rich colors and growing cheers ease her nervous energy. The magic thread tying her to her friends glimmered faintly, tugging her in the right direction.

She turned down a side path — a riotous corridor of food trucks, art stands, and small musical groups — until she found Opal and Victoria once more, sitting side by side near the fountain. Opal’s gentle strums fell into a soulful serenade, a song meant just for the two of them, while Victoria listened with a softness that seemed to ease even the worries weighing on her heart.

Amitie paused just a few paces away. She pressed the small envelope to her own heart, drew a shaky breath, then stepped forward with nervous confidence.

“Hey… Opal! Victoria! Got a sec?”

The moment her voice fell into their space, Opal faltered mid-chord — nearly dropping her pick — while Victoria turned gracefully toward her, eyebrows raised in gentle curiosity.

“A-Amitie…! Hi… I… I was just…” Opal began, a rush of color creeping up her cheeks.

“That’s okay.” Amitie’s expression was pure kindness — a reflection of her own vulnerable happiness. “I wanted to… um… invite you two to Sig’s birthday party. Later today.”

Victoria hopped down gracefully from the fountain’s ledge, landing without a sound. “Aw! That’s so sweet. Are we… invited as a couple?”

“That’s up to you two, but I kind of hoped you’d come together.” Amitie turned faintly pink. “I think it’d be nice for everyone to see a pair as happy as you are. You’re kind of… an inspiration, honestly.”

Opal pressed a shaky hand against her own heart. “…Us? An inspiration…? Oh… I… I think I’d… I’d like that.”

Victoria slipped her arm casually around Opal’s waist, tugging her close. “Consider us there, then. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Amitie nodded, delighted. “Thank you! I'll save you both seats. See you soon!”

With a small, nervous twirl, Amitie darted back into the bustling crowd, a rush of happiness fueling her every step — a happiness forged by kindness, understanding, and the magic of growing up together.


Amitie turned the small whistle over in her hands — a delicate, silver artifact that glimmered faintly in the sunlight. Sig had made it for her after their showdown at the docks, sculpting it to produce a griffin’s call.

Amitie pressed it to her lips, closed her eyes, and blew a clear, sweet note into the breeze. The call rose up into the clouds — a piercing, musical sound that seemed to hang in the air for a moment before fading.

For a few heartbeats, there was silence. Then…

A rush of wings. A shimmering silhouette darting through the clouds. Seaglass swooped down gracefully, his feathers glinting gold and green in the rays of the setting sun. His claws barely scraped the grass as he came to rest in the academy’s courtyard, folding his wings against his body and tilting his head in recognition.

Amitie darted forward with a delighted laugh, arms outstretched. “Seaglass! You came!”

The griffin nuzzled against her, purring softly, then hopped back, bouncing a little on his talons — eager, enthusiastic.

Amitie held up a small envelope, tying it with a ribbon made of magic thread. “I missed you too, buddy! Sig’s birthday’s soon… and I was wondering… would you come celebrate with us?”

Seaglass nodded, much to Amitie’s happiness, and with another affectionate nudge, he sprang back into the skies — a shimmering dart of color against the clouds — a symbol of loyalty, friendship, and the magic that connected their hearts.


Amitie pressed her hands together in nervous giddy excitement as the spider-creature hopped down from a rooftop awning to land gracefully at her side. His multiple limbs clicked quietly against the pavement — a comforting, rhythmic chorus — while his piercing red eyes glimmered with affection.

“That was a great team-up back there with your family, setting up the party and all.” Amitie paused, tilting her head warmly. “Speaking of… I wanted to invite them, too! To Sig’s party. Do you think they’d come if we… asked together?”

The spider-creature clicked his mandibles in a moment of nervous consideration, then nodded. “I… think they'd appreciate that. I'll let them know we wish their company.”

He turned and raised a shimmering thread into the air — a delicate spider’s signal — a few simple vibrations bouncing along its silken path. Shortly afterwards, a chorus of movement responded from the nearby trees, bushes, and rooftop perches.

One by one, spider creatures began to emerge, creeping gracefully into view. His brothers, sisters, his cousins, his uncles — even his battle-scarred father with his piercing samurai-like stare — all fell into a circle around their prince.

“I forgot how big his family was...” Amitie whispered under her breath, nervousness battling with awe.

The spider-creature nodded quietly. His voice was firm but gentle. “Family… I wish to bring you to a celebration today. Sig’s birthday — a moment of happiness and peace. We wish you to be a part of it. Will you come… and celebrate alongside us?”

For a moment, there was silence — a dramatic pause — then his father stepped forward. His expression was impassive, yet a softness glimmered in his many eyes. “We will come, my son.”

This affirmation drew a chorus of enthusiastic clicking from his relatives. His brothers, sisters hopped up and down, his uncles exchanged glances, and the spider-creature turned back toward Amitie with a small, proud tremble in his voice. “…They’re in.”

Amitie clapped her hands together in pure happiness. “Yes! Oh, this is going to be the best party ever! I’ll let everyone know you’re all invited — come as you are, bring whatever you wish! We’re a big family today.”

With a rush of movement, the spider creatures fell into formation, following their prince toward the clearing where the party would soon come alive. The two friends walked side by side — Amitie beaming, spider-creature quietly proud — their hearts full of a happiness forged by understanding, loyalty, and growing trust.


 Amitie bounced down the stairs two at a time, clutching a carefully wrapped package in her hands. The box was adorned with shimmering paper in Sig’s favorite colors — deep blues, rich purples, and a riotous dash of gold ribbon — a reflection of the magic that filled their friendships. Her face was rosy with a rush of nervous energy, and her grip trembled just a bit as she held it close. “Okay, okay! Everything’s in place! We just need to keep Sig distracted for a little longer,” she said breathlessly, spinning gracefully at the bottom of the staircase.

Coquin hopped down after her, nearly missing a step in his enthusiasm, his mischievous green eyes glimmering with barely contained giddy happiness. “He’s gonna love it! Right, Nee-chan?”

“Of course he will!” Amitie beamed warmly, trying to mask the nervous tremors in her voice. “That’s why we can’t mess this up. I’m counting on you to keep him busy, Raffina. Whatever it takes — just… keep him from turning up too soon.”

Meanwhile, Raffina paused in front of a mirror to check her reflection. She tugged down the lapels of her stylish purple jacket, smoothing a fold here and there, then flipped a strand of her silky blonde hair back over her shoulder with dramatic confidence. “Don’t worry, Amitie. I’ve got this covered. Sig won’t even know what hit him.”

With that, a shimmering aura enveloped her, and in a rush of magic, she teleported directly to Sig’s side — only to find him still fast asleep… while perfectly upright… his piercing red and blues eyes wide, unfocused, staring into the distance.

Raffina faltered for just a moment — a mix of disbelief and exasperation washing over her — then pressed forward. “Sig…? Sig! Wake up! We have something very… important for you.”

Sig remained obliviously suspended in dreamland, much to Raffina’s growing disbelief — and much to the growing nervousness back home as Amitie and Coquin rushed to make their surprise a reality.


 Raffina kept a gentle grip on Sig’s arm as the two made their way down the cobbled streets, weaving through the bustling market. Stalls brimmed with glittering charms, rich fabrics, and sweet treats, their colors a riotous blend under the glow of suspended magic lamps. Sig’s blue and red eyes darted back and forth in awe — each new stall a miniature world waiting to be discovered — but Raffina kept up a steady, casual stream of chatter, careful not to let her nervousness seep through.

“That’s a lovely set of rune stones, isn’t it?” Raffina said, tilting her head toward a merchant’s array. “Did you know I used something much simpler when I first started casting? Oh! Look at those candied strawberries… I think we should grab a few for later.”

Sig nodded quietly, tugging at his sleeve, reluctantly turning away from a small group of children attempting magic tricks with sparks. His grip tightened just a bit on the paper bag of sweets in his hands — a small but growing collection.

Meanwhile, a few paces away, Klug was fidgeting nervously behind a stack of crates. His glasses kept slipping down his nose as he carefully made one last adjustment to the small rocket’s trajectory. “I’m positive this will go off perfectly… I think… hopefully… maybe…”

Lidelle peered from the side of the nearby cake table, a heavy box filled with frosting-covered confections resting against her. Her cheeks glowed faintly as much from nervousness as from physical exertion. “Klug… we’re not turning this into a science demonstration… right? This is a birthday party.”

Klug pressed his knuckles against his glasses in exasperation, reluctantly relenting. “… Fine. But… just a small, well-calculated blast of color. Okay?”

Across the clearing, Ringo tightened her grip on the shimmering invitation, letting its magic glimmer faintly in her hands. Her pulse thudded in her ears as she turned toward the Accursed Knights, their auras glowering under rays of dappled sunlight. Hilda raised her scythe in a dramatic arc, sending purple sparks into the air — a wild affirmation. Eldur faltered, confused yet eager; Fried hopped forward with his bunnies bouncing alongside him, adding pyon★ after pyon★ to their chorus. Wacht reluctantly slid his swords back into their scabbards, while Mappela reluctantly cleaned a bit more slime from her blade. The group fell into a moment’s silence — a moment that seemed to hang on the cusp of something wonderful.

Ringo let out a shaky breath. “Thank you… all of you.”


“SURPRISE!”

The moment the word rang through the clearing, a riot of color and magic filled the space. Paper streamers fell from the branches above, a chorus of magic sparks rose into the air, and a collective cheer from friends made Sig stiffen in surprise — then slowly break into a delighted, somewhat nervous smile.

He turned in a circle, taking it all in. The clearing was a riotous blend of colors: purple, gold, green, and blue. Banners with “HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIG” were strung between the ancient trees, their edges glimmering faintly with magic. Enchanted paper lanterns glowed warmly in the growing dusk, casting a gentle aura over everyone. The bug-shaped candles on the birthday cake glimmered with small sparks, adding their own magic to the moment.

Amitie stepped forward quietly, carefully cradling a small, neatly-wrapped box in her hands. “Happy birthday, Sig.” Her voice was gentle, a mixture of nervousness and affection.

Sig blinked in surprise, then his expression softened as he turned toward her. “Thank you, Amitie… You really didn’t have to…”

Amitie tightened her grip briefly before extending it toward him. “But you’re worth it.” Her cheeks grew rosy — a rush of warmth that made her heart feel full.

Sig turned the box over in his hands, tugging at the shimmering ribbon, and slowly opened it. Inside, resting upon a small cushion of purple velvet, was a delicate crystal stag beetle, its sculpted form glimmering in the magic glow. Light refracted through its many facets, casting miniature rainbows across their friends’ smiling faces.

“It’s beautiful.” Sig whispered in awe, turning it this way and that, letting the rainbow glows dart and scatter.

Amitie felt her own heart swell. “Just like you.”

Across the clearing, Raffina crossed her arms with a small, smug smile. “Mission accomplished.”

High above, the spider-creature clicked quietly, spinning a shimmering web made of magic — a riot of glittering threads — until it stretched gracefully from one side of the clearing to the other. The magic glimmer fell down in sparks, adding a dream-like ambiance to the celebration.

“This… is a perfect day.” Amitie whispered, closing her eyes for a moment to appreciate the happiness all around her.

Sig turned back toward her, his normally impassive expression blooming into pure happiness. “The best.”

Notes:

WolfgangSchultz here! After many months since his creation, I thought it was finally time to show the little spider-creature to the world, nomming on a piece of ice cream cake. Sorry if it's not the best. The week has been hectic.

Check the official prompt list here: https://bsky.app/profile/sigamicentral.bsky.social/post/3lo263ctb2c23

Any thoughts? Leave them in the comments.

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