Primrose Egghart's Arc

Chapter 8 of 10

The creature walks ahead of Primrose, not looking back to check if she's following. Its wings catch the light when it moves. The middle path winds between tall trees that lean close on both sides, their branches making shadows across the ground. The path splits at a stone platform where a compass sits under a glass dome. The needle inside spins without stopping, turning and turning without ever settling on a direction. Pink leaves scatter around the base. The creature hovers beside the compass, then points at it once before crossing its arms. When Primrose steps closer, the sprite shakes its head hard and points again at the two paths stretching ahead. Left or right. Not both. Primrose reaches into her pocket and pulls out the gold coin she found near the gazebo, the one with the swirling patterns that seem to move when she tilts it. She considers flipping it to choose, letting chance decide which way to go. But the creature stamps one small foot in the air and turns its back to her, white hair swinging with the motion. The message is clear. This choice has to be hers alone. She studies both paths. The left curves downhill toward darker trees. The right rises slightly, lighter ahead. Neither shows any sign of the egg she's hunting. She slides the coin back into her pocket and chooses right, not because it looks easier but because something about the rising path feels like going forward instead of down. The creature stays frozen in place as she passes the compass, refusing to move or guide. Three steps up the right path, she hears the soft sound of wings catching up behind her. The sprite settles on her shoulder without a word, its small hand resting against her neck. Warm. Primrose understands now that the creature won't always point the way. Some choices it will make her face alone, and only after she decides will it follow. She keeps walking, and the path ahead bends out of sight.