Lost Souls: 5

Autumn's gradual progression into winter brought with it the  drop in wisp activity. The veil, no longer at its thinnest, was ensuring that more and more of the blue spirits stayed on their side of it, aided in no small part to Cersul's tireless search for them and her efforts to send them back home.

For the spirit shepherd and her helper in herding the wisps, it meant more time to relax, and tonight, they did. Wisp activity would return to normal levels soon, and they could focus on other things. It would mean an end to the excitement, but that was all right.

I do appreciate a respite as much as anyone.

When they did find a wisp—and they did—the chase, like this one, was short, and, as the spirits were tired, sending them home was easy.

In fact, some of them even wanted to go home; they were that tired.

Thaaaaaank yoooouuuu...

Of course.

That was how Cersul and Bren found the last of the season's wisps: they came to her, looking for help.

I will help you; I always will, she told them. Together, on foot, with Bren and her stag wisp, Cersul led the last of the strays on a nice little walk in search of a place where the veil was just thin enough to allow passage back with minimal effort. It took a while; the veil was thickening back to its normal dimensions—if one could use such a word on something as physically immaterial as the veil, but find it they did.

Here. Here is the way back. You should have no trouble returning now.

The wisps, despite their exhaustion, danced about for a bit in joy. But soon, they remembered why they were here, and one by one, they disappeared completely, watched by Bren and the ghostly tyto, who exchanged glances once the wisps were gone.

"Until next year."

Until next year.