When my eyes opened, I was back, splayed out in the field of lilies. I was no longer an amorphous mist, portions of actual human body parts were clinging to my form. I peered at my left hand, pink and full of blood.

  The shades of purple pulsated across the horizon. Taking in a deep breath, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla travelled through me. I wish Vila and Haunt could be here.

  “You realize the danger you willingly sequestered onto yourself, correct?” said a dead voice beside me. I turned and looked at Nyla's folded arms. Her gold braided hair drooped on top of them.

  “Am I dead?” I asked.

  “Maybe, you’ve lost consciousness, and your soul is fading into my realm.” The lilies surrounding us let out a dull sigh. Plumes of pollen sputtered lifelessly onto the ground. “Walk with me,” she continued.

  The flowers parted in her step. She was the queen of this place, all vegetation cowed in her wake. Trees croaked as they bowed to her in our trek. I struggled behind, limping through the grass. Each blade sliced at my heels. I was not welcome here.

  Along our walk, motley assortments of animals strayed behind. Raccoons, deers, and monsters out of mythology flocked to Nyla’s banner. Their murmurs crowded our ears.

  “Oh, he’s in for it,” muttered a deer.

  “I wonder what happened to this claimed one,” chirped a hummingbird.

  “Think she’ll give him the one-two punch?” said a raccoon.

  “May she be as magnanimous as the seasons she births,” spoke a lion with a scorpion’s tail and dragon’s wings.

  “You think he’ll turn into-—”

  “This is a conversation for two,” Nyla finally spoke. A wave of wind buffeted their voice. The animals in a monotone crescendo lowered their heads and disappeared into the woods.

  “Your other believers?” I asked. She continued walking.

  As we walked through this golden country, every grassland, plain, forest, or conceivable land was traversed. Mountain ranges grasped at the sun. Lazy grasslands muddled along savannahs. Bogs hid the lifespan of eternity in their murky waters. None stopped her.

  Eventually, we reached the top of a cliffside. Across our entire view was a meandering ocean lazily licking the bottom of our mountain. Beside us stood a dilapidated lighthouse. Fallen bricks by the wayside revealed a husk consumed by vines and weeds.

  “Krasus helped import some of his waters into my domain. In exchange, I left my vestiges in those unfathomable depths,” Nyla said. She sat on the edge, her hands twiddling a rose that emerged underneath her dress. A flick of the hand drove me to my seat beside her.

  “Krasus?” I asked.

  “A sibling and a friend. My laws of nature go from land to sea. Working with him is a symbiotic relationship. We understand each other’s weaknesses and strengths, and know when not to overextend one another,” she replied. I stared at her flickering summer dress. The roses at our first meeting were choked by a sea of thorns, and I did not want to imagine what kind of face she was making.

  “I’m sorry for not protecting Himavanta,” I muttered.

  “Do you know what happens to dead believers?” she asked.

  “You told me in our first meeting. They’re reincarnated here.”

  “Indeed,” Nyla said, she gestured at the grass around us, “each blade is one of them. Although no longer sentient. Despite the assurances of eternity, not all souls are equipped to grow old with it. Many choose to leave a small legacy, a token of who they are, before departing.”

  My hand that was absentmindedly pinching a blade hesitantly let go. There must have been billions of people who had come and gone from her place. “Departing where?”

  “Reincarnation most likely, a few willingly choose to dissipate into the ether.”

  “And who left behind that?” I asked, pointing at the lighthouse.

  “George Hudson,” she replied, “A curious little bug collector. Figured he’d have a lighthouse here making sure no wayward ships would crash on these shores. Krasus loved the thing. George always wanted more time for his nature expeditions…he was a good one.”

  A good one. Those words wretched away my heart from my soul. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a good one-—”

  “A hundred,” Nyla interjected, “A hundred reincarnations into Himavanta since you. None made it as far. Many acorns ended up being digested in the stomach of a squirrel. A Nighthaunter made it five centimetres before being squished. Tens of berries were eaten at their first ripening. Their stories on Krailas will be a footnote in your chapters. A mixture of determination and fate made you the lucky one. Prune the self-doubt, Sallix.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “How can I? I let you down Nyla.”

  “It is inconsequential. I took a gamble on you. Failure is not something I would lambast you for,” she said, her voice giving my ears frostbite. “But, I am angry you risked the likes of Vila!” Nyla snapped.

  My eyes winced as a blast of cold air assaulted my face. Vila mentioned some punishment from Vehyr…and Vehyr mentioned about the rules not to break. My eyes widened as I arched my face to Nyla. For the first time, I looked into her eyes. Baby blue irises with small dots of white were painted inside her eyes—a Van Gogh captured inside those round contours. Tears welled up on the sides. Her brow was furrowed, staring down at me.

  “Nyla,” I whispered, “What are the consequences?”

  “Vila is one of the few caretakers I have. Acting as my emissary, she helps anchor my presence in the world. One principle that binds hers is the protection from my domain. If she willfully incites harm to one of my children…she’ll be burned by the surrounding mana and lose said protection,” Nyla said, her lips quivering.

  “She looked fine when she cast mending on me.”

  “Then she was courageous enough not to let you witness her pain.”

  “I…I didn’t know Nyla.”

  She continued sitting on the grass beside me, gingerly travelling her fingers with the grains of her dress. “For a fairy her age, she’s never experienced such physical and mental pain,” Nyla uttered, “Sallix, not only did you endanger your own life, but also your friends.”

  “So I was supposed to let those kids die?” I snapped, “They were begging for help, and Vila went to help first!”

  “That certainly is a noble act to do. But without the correct planning, all that came to be were the dismays of your friends. Whether they would have died or not is your own choice to make. But, when you moved your body in front of those jaws, you forced Vila’s hand into saving you,” she replied.

  “I did not force her,” I replied.

  “Really? Do you think Vila would have remained idle? Like it or not, you two are friends. That carries with it a menagerie of responsibilities. I plucked you out of that abyss so that you could gain a second life. You do with it as you may with a reminder of your promise to me. But you would profit to understand that you are working with other beings,” Nyla whispered. The waves continued to crash against the shores. Far off in the ocean, a pod of whales could be seen surfacing against the sunlight.

  “Is your dynamic with Krasus similar?” I asked.

  “Friendships and eternity are fickle lovers. It is hard to maintain one with a millennium of chances for burning. What keeps it alive is respect. You work and prosper together. In my honest opinion, you gave those children a chance, but you should have let them be consumed.”

  The cold-hearted answer I was hoping to keep tucked away bore through. I was too weak at that moment. If I wanted to be in a position to save, I needed more.

  I looked at the skyline. Some shades of blue I couldn’t be bothered discerning. A harsh sunlight was beating down on me. The pillowy grass was needles in my hand. I idly stared at Nyla’s dress. “Will Vila be alright?” I asked.

  “She’s an amazing custodian with a heart of tempered glass,” Nyla replied, “she will recover.”

  “Good,” I said, letting out a sign of relief. “Thinking about it now. Vila mentioned she was two hundred leaves old. How does a two-hundred-year-old fairy come to be?”

  “Immense accumulation of mana. I only have twelve in total. Each of them was carefully raised in a greenhouse of lullabies,” Nyla replied. I reeled in shock. To think a dozen were in charge of managing a forest that I’ve only seen the edges of.

  “And how long can fairies live?”

  “Indefinitely.”

  “I’m glad I can be friends with her for at least a portion of that infinity,” I said, gazing at the horizon.

  “Sallix, only in crisis or in absent mind can you deign to look me in the eyes. When your mind realizes, you shrink back. What happened to you?” Nyla asked. My heart clenched.

  “It’s a memory I want to keep buried.”

  “Okay. Remember, those buried will come to bloom.”

  “Where are the other reincarnations you mentioned?” I asked. Although they died quite early, it would be a shame not to compare notes about Himavanta.

  “They all left, some could not be bothered living once more and dissipated,” Nyla said. “The horrors of two deaths in one set of memories is something mortals are incapable of preparing for. None of them managed to meet a little fairy to cast mending.”

  “So I was just lucky.”

  “Are you hearing yourself? Regardless, being lucky also counts as part of who you are and who you will come to be. You used it well and continued to grow. Vila saw that first hand,” Nyla said.

  “…I’m sorry for getting Vila involved,” I replied.

  “Your apology is not my right to receive. She needs to hear that sentiment from yourself when you wake.”

  I swivelled my head to her. My downcast eyes screamed for answers. Her furrowed brow and pained eyes were replaced with a tasteful glee. Her mouth curled to the side. “Wait, I’m still alive?” I asked.

  Nyla jumped and planted her feet in front of me. Her hair billowed with the wind blowing across the cliffs. “You took tremendous damage, you suffered but have not failed Sallix!” she yelled. My ears burned hearing her words. “When you wake, protect Himavanta and Krailas.”

  “Okay,” I said, a grin forming over my face. There were so many things I had yet to do. Find Vila, tell her I was sorry, making sure Haunt did not eat any children, learning from Vehyr…

  “I knew he had it in him!” screamed a voice. We looked behind us to see the former crowd of animals back at our feet. A raccoon was in the midst of getting jumped by a group of hamsters with miniature unicorn horns.

  “Oh look what you did, you were always the chatty one,” sighed the manticore. He was in the middle of face-pawing.

  “Get him boys, it just ain’t right, rustle him for all he got,” said a slightly larger hamster riding the top of the manticore’s head. The raccoon was submerged in sea of brown and white cottonballs.

  “Can I be a manticore?” I asked.

  “Your soul is slowly recovering. But unless you become a great sage that can dictate the fate of cities…” Nyla laughed to herself.

  “Don’t sell yourself short kid. Maybe with a few centuries of practice, you can join me,” the manticore replied. His scorpion tail flicked about with a mind of its own.

  A wave of nausea sent me spiralling to my knees. Two badgers supported my arms as I struggled with the ground.

  “Annnnd he’s coming out of it. Damn shame, we could have asked how Earths been doing all these years,” complained a deer. Nyla shot it a coy smile. It stood still in her headlights.

  “And,” she said, peering down at me, “remember to protect your friends, including that new spider fellow!” Her finger tapped against my forehead.

  “Sleep.”