I stayed there with her for as long as it took for her to get her bearings. I waited nearby in case she decided to rely on me, but I didn’t push it on her.

I could remember what it was like for some people trying to push something on me, those who would try to get me to do something as if I was incapable of doing it on my own. As if instead of a person in pain, I was an incapable thing.

It wasn’t that it was somehow impossible to do, but more so the feeling that it just didn’t matter. That feeling had pushed down the feeling of me doing things, and getting pushed around just upset me. Giving her a line where she could reach out to me if and or when she desired to was all I felt like I could give her.

We were friendly but not proper friends, and I had made her feel betrayed by sending her away instead of letting her possibly die beside me. I didn’t know if Selly saw me as a friend, but I was willing to act the part regardless because I wanted to be her friend, even though I didn’t know if I deserved it. And I would be there for my friend when she needed it, even if she didn’t feel the same way anymore.

She was unsteady on her feet, but she got up and stayed up.

She had none of the signs of a person who was crying: no red eyes, no tears, no breathing, and none of the smells I normally associated with it, but I could see the context and knew she had been crying like sprites cried.

The only sign, the only thing I could envision as something of a tell, was her antenna, which dropped as if it carried the weight of her feelings like weights tied to them with string. They were limp, instead of at attention up, resting downwards towards her chest like strands of hair.

I hadn’t thought about the black on white, as if the armour-like plates on her were more like clothes she could just change. As if what amounted to her skin was more dress or accessory that could be changed for a new trend, and not a permanent part of her body. They were black now, or at least dark grey now, instead of her normal white like the fluff between the armour.

She would have had to dye it unless sprites could miraculously change the colour of their chitin from sadness alone.

“I should have realized something was off…” I told her, “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“No…” she managed to get out through a few gaspy huffs, “You didn’t know, you couldn’t have…”

I sneezed, turning away from her so I didn’t spray her before turning back to face her. The crying had let out quite a lot of tingly stuff in the air.

“Maybe not,” I told her, “But I’m still sorry I brought it up. I’m trying to do my best not to make Anna cry, trying to make no one cry because of me when I shouldn’t, doesn’t that seem like a big stretch? Maybe I should be aiming for that. And I mean what I said, you can ask me for help with anything, even if it’s just drudge work.”

“Hah,” she said, a clipped breath that slipped beyond her tiny frontal mouth and to her bigger lower mouth. It was humorless and a bit closer from sad. “Get off it. My life, long leg, is mine to move through. And don’t go trying to think yours is the straw that brought me to my knees… The lives of others, their struggles and pain, are not your fault. Try and get it out of your head that my unsightly actions are related to your actions and not me letting off all my steam cussing you out… You twit.”

She said the last part with a fake energy. A fake pep that wrung hollow like a bell compared to how she had used it before. And with it, an attempt to put on a face, a slight lift of her antenna and a straightening of her posture. She managed to get her breath back, at least.

“Selliban… You don’t have to put on a face unless you want to… for some reason. And none of that noble stuff, either. I think I can speak for both Anna and myself when I say that neither of us would expect it from you,” I told her, “And there is nothing unsightly about mourning,”

Expectations were a weight, a drag. They could give structure in the right environment if they were used for that purpose, a kind of guide when you felt hopeless could do a lot of good. It could also stop you from reaching out, from trying to do something if it wasn’t ‘right’ or ‘socially unacceptable.’

Toxic sociality or something. It was the exact kind of thing that had doubtless led to the weird bit where a man can marry multiple women and the loophole where me and Anna could end up a legal couple, but not men.

Just thinking about it brought to mind just how pissed the clergy must have been. The church of marriage must be pissed about that.

I let that idea pass me by, it wouldn’t get me anywhere to start thinking about that silliness, and instead, I focused back on the conversation, back on letting Selly make the choice on whether or not she would keep the mask or leave it.

The mask dropped, and she drooped back down.

“Aye… Aye. That’s fine by me, I shall abide by this. I suppose I ought to get to granting you you’re title… And then getting some rest,” she said, letting off a weary sigh, “I would rather have some time to myself than stay here talking for much longer if that would be alright with you.”

“More than fine, we can get this over with. We can do this tonight, or tomorrow even, I can wait. I don’t know what it takes to get a title, but we don’t have to go through anything… fancy. We can go our separate ways tonight, nothing needs to keep us talking until when you feel up to it,” I told her.

“I’m good,” she said, huffy and defensive, “I’m good to keep this going for now, even if it is only for a little. And you don’t have to be soft on me, I can’t stand it.”

Damn it. Am I being soft? I am… Damn it, damn it, you stupid idiot. Just treat her like normal, don’t keep… Damn it. Okay… Ok, be normal. I can treat her normally. I’m projecting, too, I need to stop doing that, she’s not me, she doesn’t need the same things.

Come on, Saphine, use your head. Just play it by ear instead of trying to accommodate her every need all at once, that just comes across the same way as being pushy. She’s a confrontational person, being all soft is just weird for her.

So I did, I let the feeling of wanting to help her slip out of my mind and tried to move closer to how we were talking before, closer to normal.

“Okay,” I told her, “So what does all of this title stuff entail? I don’t know what a title does or even how to get one, even though I have one, which I know is weird, but there were complications. I assume, being a [Lady] and all, you know what those do, right?”

She looked at me with the face of someone who wasn’t paid enough to deal with something had. It was all in the eyes, the squint of them.

She reached a hand up to her head and got to rubbing what I assumed were her temples.

“You have a… You have a title, and you have no idea what it does?”

I opened my mouth to explain, but she cut me off.

“No. No. Don’t explain, let me. It will save both of us time. A title… is a title. It is a thing that people call you. When the right people see you, they will understand who you are and what your title is, and often a little about that. I don’t know what your title is, but a [Tall Friend] is a friend of Sprites, sprites you meet will know that you’re a friend and not some random person. They will know that you have done a great deed for my kin and queen and treat you accordingly, so long as you don’t forsake my kind.”

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

She was rather peeved at my lack of understanding. The obvious part was obvious, but I didn’t know what it did beyond being a thing people called you.

“OK, okay. Don’t go getting all huffy about it. So you give me this, and sprites will know I helped you out, got it. I wonder what my other title does… Anyways, how do we do this?”

She lifted her sword and spoke, her words having a weight to them as she spoke them. “Saphine. By the power invested in me by my queen, I name you a [Tall Friend], for you to have for so long as you abide by and uphold your friendship with my kind, uphold peace with kin, and swear to honour my kin as if they were your own. Do you swear to do this and accept this title as a gift from my people for your valiant aid in saving my queen from a fate worse than death?”

Each word, each sound, and each breath she spoke carried a tangible weight as they reached me. They were no louder than her normal speech, not backed by skill or spell, but they felt louder, they felt like they should be magical.

I could feel a feeling, one that I had remembered from something recently, a feeling that things lined up inside me. A feeling like when I had been casting my first spell, only with all the pieces given to me, ready to take whatever form they were destined to take.

I felt at it in the weird way that I had with that skill, only for it to have no feedback beyond a very simple missing piece.

I could say yes, or I could say no.

I was an oddity.

I had one title, but it was one that I had no choice in. It had been thrust upon me, just like my new race, just like the new skills I had from it.

A part, a tiny wee little thing in the back of my head, clicked at that thought, spinning off into a new realization.

Once upon a time, I had very little choice at all.

Before I had died, I had no choice in how I worked or what I did. I had no active choice in what my classes or skills were, Sophy would just read through my dreams and pick, bit by bit, my choices for me, finding what she believed was my best fit, with no ability for me to plan around it.

The only thing I was able to do was try and guide it based on what little I did in person, like hitting rocks to get [Sense Stone].

That had changed only recently, the first time had probably been becoming a mage, a thing I had to actively try and get. The first time I made a choice over what I was going to be, actively chose that I was going to be a mage, and I had not given up on it, I could have, could have just told Anna no thanks, I don’t want to try and be a mage and fucked off with magic powers and that probably would have been fine.

Knowing her, it would have probably pissed her off, but she would probably not have come after me with a vengeance, hells bent on destroying my life or something.

That choice had led to my choice to court Anna, the choice to stay in her bed and moved our relationship along so far.

This choice was now one of many choices, but it was one that was simple. The simplicity of it, the simplicity of a yes or no, seemed for all its lack of depth, and quite possibly what it would bring to me, woke up just how much agency in my own life I now had.

I could choose.

I could decide to say no to Selly, no to being a [Tall Friend], and face the consequences. The idea that I could just say no was somewhat intoxicating.

It was one of those moments where suddenly you got perspective on your own life, like you were viewing it as someone else. A change in perspective where the world and how you saw it changed, and something hit home just how it changed and made a whole lot of stuff just kind of making sense.

It was always over the smallest, stupidest things that those happened. The really silly stuff, like asking a dumb question.

You made changes every day, small ones, but I had started changing, started making bigger ones. And now I saw that I had made a bunch of them automatically, just moving forward, but I didn’t need to. I was the master of my own future.

That was all.

For all its stupid simplicity, that was important, at least to me.

“Yes,” I said, and the whole thing clicked together.

It brought with it no immediate change, no skills, no spells, nothing.

“That’s it,” Selly said as if I hadn’t just spaced out for a second while I had an epiphany. “I do believe that’s all for today… Would you mind showing me to my bed? I could use a bit of rest, it’s been a long day.”

I did, getting up and walking towards the door that led up into the attic, Selly fanning out her wings and buzzing over to follow me. I opened it and made my way up to my old room.

It was as I left it, but I had made sure to bring my stuff out and leave it in the kind of closet space at the base of the ladder.

“Here’s your room. There's a chamber pot over there. I don’t get how sprites do… That.” I told her, gesturing to make my point. “But it’s there in case you can use it. And here’s the bed… Which is way too big for you… I can-” I started, only for her to cut me off.

“You can leave it as is… I can make myself at home.”

There was something terribly sad about that, so I ignored her and walked over to the bed.

“Come on,” I waved to her, “I’ll tuck you in, even if I have to swat you out of the air. Come on, I don’t have all night, I want to go snuggle up to Anna.”

“You can’t be serious? You’re going to tuck me in? You?”

I didn’t know if I was going to be sticking my neck out here. I didn’t know if this was going to explode in my face or what, but I was willing to try.

“You’re my friend, Selliban. Even if you don’t let me use your nickname on the pain of probably getting stabbed in the eye, even if you feel betrayed because I sent you away, I still feel like you’re my friend. The least I can do is help you get comfortable in a bed meant for people who measure their height in feet rather than inches,” I told her calmly, turning to face her wholly. “You’re a guest, you’re a friend, and you owe a life debt to a woman I might be in love with, which means we might know each other for the rest of our lives. It’s the least I can do to tuck you in so you can be comfortable. So… Get your dainty winged ass over here, so I can. Tuck you! Into this bed!” I told her, dragging it out and making my point with forceful gestures.

I put so much energy into it that a floorboard creaked underfoot.

She paused at my words and, like a chastened child or like someone who felt vulnerable, came over anxiously and buzzed on down onto the bed.

She tucked her wings in, folding her arms to hold herself, and looked up to me.

“You’re an odd one, you know that? You’re all over the place sometimes, thoughtless one moment, thoughtful another. You’re willing to put you’re life on the line and fight without any proper practice, and jump into things alone that you never should, and then suddenly have a plan and everything works out. I can’t tell what you’re deal is. I won’t lie, but a part of me wants to not trust you. It hurt that you didn’t trust me enough to even bring me along. Even though it was the best option, it hurt, knowing that you wouldn’t do me the honour of bringing my queen home. And you knew it would hurt me and did it anyway.” She said before looking at me expectantly. “Why?”

It was a fragile thing. A fragile question.

It had the feeling of a tenuous important point.

Why indeed?

“If you want a simple answer, I don’t know that I can give you one,” I told her, reaching my hand to rub my neck. “One answer, I suppose, might be that I wanted all of you out. You could have helped me with your skills, but you had no weapon, and none of the others were able to fight either. Maybe it was because you’re tiny, and it felt like you’re more fragile than I am.” I told her, gesturing for a moment with my free hand before both came back down to rest at my sides.

“Heck,” I continued, “Maybe it’s because I like to think a bit romantically sometimes and want everyone to get out alive. Some kind of happily ever after… Honestly, it was probably a bit of all of those if I were to carefully look at what was going through my head…” I told her, feeling out as best as I could remember, as best as I could pick apart for a while until I got to the baggy part.

And despite my sigh, I kept going regardless of how it sounded.

“But whatever amount of those it was, it was also that I can get hurt, and get better. I’m expendable, no matter how you cut it, if I can die to save someone, I feel like I should because I can, and I can get away with it, and because if someone died because of me because I failed to stop it when I could, it would probably haunt me… Or it should. The last time I saw people die was the end of the world, or the end of mine, anyway, and everyone died... and I did nothing. I don’t want that again, not when I have even an ounce of ability to stop it. Does… that answer your question?” I asked her, making sure to focus back on her.

I looked at her, and I felt like I had been talking for an hour instead of for less than a minute. And I waited for her answer, assuming she decided to give me one now instead of just staring at me.

It was a long moment, but she eventually said, “If you were half as genuine, I would tell you to stop trying to be friendly, but even if I did, I doubt you would listen. Go on then, tuck me in. Just don’t make it weird, ok? None of that gross love bird stuff with me.” and got down on her back.

I took the bed sheet and went and covered her, adjusting it when she made a complaint before letting go of the sheet and pulling away from the bed.

“You don’t have to worry about that, not interested,” I told her.

I made to move away from the bed, and she called out, her voice unsure, as if she didn’t know if she was about to stick her neck out or not.

“What? No bedtime stories?”

It was the first joke she had told since she had cried, but it felt like a question.

“A bedtime story? I don’t know, that’s kind of lewd… I mean, it might lead to handholding,” I hedged.

She didn’t laugh, but when I looked over at her, I could see the smile on her face.

“Have a good night, Selly, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told her, before I padded my way on down and got to cleaning up the last of the food.