'Hey!'

Great. Just when I thought things couldn't get any weirder.

I looked around, still squinting against the cruel daylight that poured from above as I sought out the source of the irritatingly chirpy voice. Aside from the roughly circular outline of the hole in the cavern ceiling directly above me, I could see nothing.

The voice came again.

'Over here!'

Weirdly, it sounded as though it was coming from right beside me. I scanned the surroundings in my limited vision. Still nothing.

‘Here!’ the voice insisted.

Where?

Annoyed, I glared around my bare, light-flooded hillock. It was empty but for myself, propped atop my pathetic stone pedestal. Around me, motes of floating dust drifted, occasionally glinting in the sun's terrible rays.

As I stared, one of the motes glittered more brightly than the others. It began to grow larger. I attempted to shift nervously – to no avail, of course – as this shiny thing approached my helplessly prone form.

When it was scarcely a hand's breadth away, it spoke again.

‘See?' It fluttered closer. 'Here I am!'

I glimpsed gray-green wings fluttering almost imperceptibly fast, like those of a hummingbird, before the creature bumped gently against me.

'Ow!' I grumbled.

'Seriously? That hurt?' It nudged me again.

Of course, there was no pain, but irritation flashed through me, and I saw again the red glow I'd seen when my ugly humanoid captor had first manhandled me. Was that my gem… changing color? To match my mood?

Good. Maybe this infernal insect will see it as a threat and leave me alone.

Alas, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

'Ooooh!' the creature trilled. For an instant, I swear I saw two minuscule hands squeeze together in glee; then the insect-thing was in the air again, a featureless, glittering blur. It buzzed in a circle, clearly excited about something. Then it hovered in front of me. 'You're already manifesting your moods? Marvelous! How exciting! I wonder what else you can do?'

The thing's cheery voice was already beginning to grate, and the way it sparkled in the falling light hurt my eyes, such as they were.

'Listen, bug—' I began.

'Bug?!' it squealed. For such a small ball of nothingness, it certainly could raise its voice when it wanted to. I mentally winced.

'BUG?' it shrieked again, in a voice so high I imagined bats in nearby caves flapping in panic, suddenly torn from their daytime slumber. The creature that wasn’t a bug zipped back and forth; I got the curious sense that had we both been humanoids, it would now be jabbing a finger into my chest. 'You ought to be more polite to your sprite, little rock, or else you might just find yourself carried off by my friends the local magpies. How would you like to spend eternity in a tree amid some klepto bird's hoard?'

The not-bug flitted to and fro, wavering ominously, and now I got the impression it was shaking a fist at me. Its threat barely registered, though, since I was too confused by what it had said.

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'What do you mean, 'my sprite'?'

It made a little fizzing sound, which I correctly took for indignation. 'What d'you think it means? I am a sprite. I’m here to help you.' It buzzed a little closer. 'Though don't get any funny ideas about it. I don't belong to you. Got it?'

'Yes. No. What? I—'

'Marvelous! Now, shall we get to work, or are you waiting for me to do it all myself?'

My mind spun. This 'sprite', or whatever it was, seemed to operate at double the speed of a normal person. While I could hardly be described as a 'normal person' in my current state, I certainly couldn't keep up with this shiny, bossy speck of attitude.

I wished I had hands to raise to defend myself from it; its enthusiasm was offensive. On top of that, it was either speaking nonsense, or it had the wrong person.

'Wait,’ I asked. ‘Slow down. What work? What are you talking about? And what are you?'

It fizzed again, though it seemed this time it was annoyed at itself rather than me. That makes two of us.

'Of course! Where are my manners?'

In the void, along with my patience and everything that makes sense in this world.

‘I'm Ketten, though you can just call me Ket. I’m a sprite. A rock sprite, to be exact. Your rock sprite, though that certainly doesn't—'

'Doesn't mean you belong to me, yes, yes. You already said that.'

The sprite – what had it called itself? Kip? – waited, as though expecting me to say something more. I stared back stonily.

'Well?' she prompted. I'm not sure why I thought of her as female; there was nothing to mark her as such, not physically anyway.

But something about the way she spoke was distinctly feminine, and my mind – already lost amid the various cruel complications of my new situation – sought desperately to anchor itself by grasping for something – anything – familiar.

Apparently, pinning labels upon even the most formless of creatures was the only way it currently knew how to do that.

‘Well?’ the sprite said again.

'Well, what?'

'Where are your manners?' she demanded, hovering before me. 'You haven't even told me your name!'

How dare the common-looking little creature take such a tone with me? We’d met just moments ago, yet already she expected us to exchange pleasantries – as though the two of us were of equal station.

The very idea! This jumped-up fragment of flying quartz has a serious attitude problem. ‘I’m surprised you need to ask my name,’ I told her huffily, ‘seeing as you already seem to know everything else.’

The sprite buzzed brightly at this and drew herself up higher.

'I'll have you know that I don't know everything,’ she trilled, her annoying high-pitched voice surprisingly smug for someone openly admitting the extent of their own ignorance. ‘However, I do know far more than you do! In fact, that's exactly why I'm here.'

'Great. Perhaps you can tell me my name, then, seeing as I can't seem to remember it.'

Ugh. Why did I admit that? Now she’s going to think me weak.

My fears were confirmed when her glow dimmed a little, and the pitch of her next buzz was lower. It sounded less entitled, and more… sympathetic. I wasn't sure which was worse.

'Fear not, dear rock. Your memories will return.' She sounded unsure of this, however. After a brief, awkward silence, she flitted from side to side, as though dismissing my worries. 'And if they don't – well, we'll just have to give you a new name, won't we?'

'Erm…'

'More importantly, do you understand what you are? What you have become?'

'Well, it's quite obvious, isn't it?' I bluffed. I understood very little – all right, nothing – of what had happened since I awoke from my sojourn in the darkness. However, I wasn't about to admit that to her.

But her silver glow became sharper, and I got the impression she was narrowing her eyes at me in scrutiny. 'You have no idea, do you?'

Busted.

'I—'

'Lesson one: never lie to a sprite. I'm here to help you, and for me to help you, you have to be completely honest with me about what you know. I’m not a mind-reader, but from the way you're just sitting there as dull as a coal deposit, I'm going to assume you know nothing.'

'Now, hang on—'

'It's less than ideal, of course, but I can work with it. It's my job, after all.'

What? 'What do you mean, it's your job? I still don’t understand why you’re here. More importantly, why am I here? And what am I?’

She glowed brighter, as though taking a deep breath. I groaned internally and braced myself for more unhelpful ‘explanations’.

‘I’ve no idea what you were before,’ she began, ‘and although your own sense of self is obviously uncertain, I think it’s probably safe to assume you were human.’

I had some doubts about this, mainly based on my ‘memories’ of dwelling in a subterranean city. But those recollections were vague, and since the sprite seemed unaware of my possession of these fragmented memories, I decided to keep quiet about them for now.

‘It’s possible you’ll never fully recall the details of your former life,’ Ket went on. ‘But from now on, you, dear rock, are a God Core.’