The sky was already turning to dusk.
Aurora wandered around the city with the little creature for a while longer.
When she finally came back to her senses, she noticed that her fingertips were beginning to turn translucent.
“Not much time left…”
“We need to go now, little one.”
“Muguu.”
The little creature pouted unhappily—it clearly hadn’t had enough fun yet.
But Aurora’s body had already reached its limit.
She hadn’t replenished her energy in a long time, and now she felt drained.
She feared she wouldn’t even be able to cast the simplest of spells.
So, despite the little one’s reluctance, Aurora had to hurry and take it back.
As they passed by that restaurant, Aurora cast a cautious glance.
Seeing that Beatrice and Avila had already left, her mood visibly dimmed.
She was about to disappear soon.
She had wanted to see her old companions one last time—but alas, it seemed that chance was gone.
The little creature had been full of energy all day—skipping and bouncing around.
Despite being newly born, it had boundless vitality. But on the way back, drowsiness overtook it, and it soon fell asleep.
Aurora looked at the peacefully slumbering creature in her palm and smiled gently.
“Goodnight, little one.”
She slowly lowered her face and placed a soft kiss on the little creature’s forehead.
Her palm had already turned completely transparent.
The color had also begun to fade from her cheeks.
Dragging her tired body, Aurora finally arrived at the place where she had first met the little creature.
Leaning weakly against a tree, Aurora mustered all her remaining strength and called out, “Is there a spirit here? I’ve brought it back.”
“Please… take it home…”
Her final words were barely audible.
The little one remained peacefully asleep in her hand, while Aurora—completely drained of strength—closed her eyes as though falling asleep, quietly awaiting her own disappearance.
*****
Above the capital city, Beatrice and Avila sat atop a broom, scanning the surroundings.
Beatrice had sensed Aurora’s presence in the city, but for some reason, it was too faint—like that of someone on the verge of death.
Combined with a strong floral fragrance, the trace became even harder to pinpoint.
Avila had already missed the entrance ceremony by the time she returned to the academy.
She had been harshly scolded by Beatrice in her office.
To ease her teacher’s temper, Avila told her about her encounter with Aurora.
However, Avila didn’t believe that the person she’d met was the same Aurora that her teacher spoke of.
According to Beatrice, the Aurora she’d mentioned in class was a little foolish, somewhat lively, and rather adorable.
But the Aurora Avila had met was graceful, quiet, and beautiful—completely inconsistent.
At first, Beatrice also assumed it was just someone with the same name.
But when Avila took out a certain object next—Beatrice knew without a doubt: the Aurora she had met was the one she’d been searching for.
It was a leaf—more precisely, a withered leaf. But it carried the scent she had longed for day and night… and also hated to her very core.
Avila had originally just kept the leaf as a memento.
She hadn’t expected it to become the most crucial piece of evidence.
“Teacher, do you really think that Aurora is the one you were looking for?”
“There’s no doubt. It has to be her.”
Beatrice held the shriveled leaf in her hand, quietly sensing the lingering aura Aurora had left behind.
“I’ve finally found you… This time, you won’t escape again, my little parasitic fairy.”
“Hey, you two in the sky!”
Suddenly, a voice called out from below—it seemed to be addressing them.
Beatrice looked down and was surprised to see a green-colored spirit waving at them.
“You’re the witch looking for Eve Aurora, right? I’ve got some info for you.”
As it spoke, the spirit held up a bunch of silver crescent flowers—to be precise, flowers from the very same seed that Beatrice had once given to Aurora…
*****
Death was not as Aurora had imagined.
She saw no life flashing before her eyes, nor did any divine envoy appear to guide her to the afterlife.
In the quiet forest, only the chirping of insects and the rustling of leaves could be heard.
Everything was so still.
Aurora thought, If only things could stay this peaceful forever… But—
“Sis! I think she’s about to die!”
“Quick, go get Her Majesty the Queen!”
“But we can’t carry her, sis!”
“Idiot! Then go get the others to help!”
“I’ll go now!”
“Still sleeping?! Your friend is about to die!”
Crack (a twig snapping)
Pa!
“Muguu?”
“Muguu!”
The once peaceful night was suddenly full of commotion.
Though nearly transparent, Aurora could faintly hear the hurried chatter of the spirits all around her—and even the little one’s cries mixed in.
“Stop crying and help us lift her!”
“Sisters, on my count—one! Two! Three! Heave—!”
Aurora felt her body suddenly float off the ground, then she was gently carried somewhere.
She wanted to tell them to just let her quietly fade away like this, but at this point, she didn’t even have the strength to open her eyes, let alone speak.
“Your Majesty! Please come take a look at this fairy—she looks like she’s about to die!”
Aurora felt a small, slightly cool and damp hand touch her cheek, then press gently against her forehead.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before… Is this some strange kind of curse?”
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!”
A tiny spirit fluttered down and landed on the queen’s head, clutching a green leaf in its hands.
“This… was in her pocket. I forgot to give it back to her. Hehe.”
The queen took the leaf in her chubby little hands and examined it carefully, turning it over.
“It’s just a leaf. Why would she keep this in her pocket?”
“Wait… Give it to me. I… I know.”
The little one suddenly seemed to remember something.
Back then, Aurora had placed the flower petal it had given her in her mouth—and her transparent hand had returned to normal.
Maybe… if they placed this leaf in her mouth, it might work too.
The little one hugged the leaf and flew to Aurora’s lips.
“Open… your mouth… ah~”
But at this point, Aurora couldn’t hear anything anymore.
Her dark eyes had lost all light as she stared at the little one—her gaze as lifeless as that of a corpse.
“Let me help you.”
The queen gently pried open Aurora’s mouth and carefully tucked the leaf inside.
Hundreds of flower spirits gathered around, watching with heartbreak in their eyes.
None of them wanted this kind and gentle fairy to die just like this.
They all anxiously waited for something—anything—to happen.
Second by second passed, and just as they were all about to give up hope… a faint flush of color returned to Aurora’s once-transparent cheeks.
“It’s working!”
“Quick, quick—go pick more leaves!”
“Your Majesty, emergency! Two witches just showed up outside—they say they want to take the fairy away!”
“What?? Oh, come on—what now?!”