Far from the loud places of the world, where clever machines chattered endlessly and invention weighed heavily on human hearts, there lays a hidden cove.
It does not appear on any map.
The cove is an oasis, spared by choice rather than chance. Civilization passed it by, never quite noticing. What little technology exists there remained simple and playful, living in rhythm with the land.
This is 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 is the gatekeeper.
Within her realm lives the Sprites.
They are spirits, bright and sincere. They can not roam freely.
They can only be summoned by humans, and only with honest intent. Their souls are too pure for harm. Once called, they can do only one thing.
Help.
They listen. They carry burdens. They create delight. They nudge humans toward courage and clarity.
When their work is done, they vanish again into the cove, leaving behind the quiet sense that a spirit had been there, and cared.
Sprites do not belong to anyone. They belong to moments, to needs that rise suddenly and matter deeply. They exist for laughter as much as for wondering. They appear when called, lingering only as long as they are useful. No longer.
Humans learned to use them wisely.
To share them freely, abundantly, and with delight.
For sprites are not things to be kept. They are gifts from Pearl. And in time, every human will meet her.
