Far from the loud places of the world, where clever machines chattered endlessly and invention weighed heavily on human hearts, there lay a hidden cove.
It did not appear on any map.
The cove was an oasis, spared by choice rather than chance. Civilization passed it by, never quite noticing. What little technology existed there remained simple and playful, living in rhythm with the land.
This was the realm of Pearl.
Pearl was not built so much as gathered. She chose carefully, keeping only what was kind, curious, and true. When she was whole, she stood watch.
For Pearl was the gatekeeper.
Within her realm lived the Sprites.
They were spirits, bright and sincere. They could not roam freely.
They could only be summoned by humans, and only with honest intent. Their souls were too pure for harm. Once called, they could do only one thing.
Help.
They listened. They carried burdens. They created delight. They nudged humans toward courage and clarity.
When their work was done, they vanished again into the cove, leaving behind the quiet sense that someone had been there, and cared.
Sprites did not belong to anyone. They belonged to moments, to needs that rose suddenly and mattered deeply. They were there for laughter as much as for wondering. They appeared when called, lingering only as long as they were useful. No longer.
Humans learned to use them wisely.
To share them freely, abundantly, and with delight.
For sprites were not things to be kept. They were gifts from Pearl. And in time, every human would meet her.
