Finn stepped out of the mayor’s office, blinking in the sudden sunlight that had replaced the clouds just seconds before. The storm had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind an unsettling calm.

  Maple followed close behind, her small frame practically hidden in his shadow. Finn could sense the fear in her, the way she kept her head low, flinching slightly at every sound around them. Being in the town of Sagewood, so close to humans, unsettled her, just as the encounter with the grizzled old man—Otis—had unsettled him. He still couldn’t quite shake the odd feeling from earlier, how the old man hadn’t shown the slightest fear in the face of Finn’s animal form.

  That didn’t happen. Not with humans. The old man was either completely mad or incredibly brave, but either way Finn felt perturbed and even a little awed by the man’s implacability.

  Otis emerged last, his weathered face filled with a mixture of relief and bewilderment. As they took in the aftermath of the storm, Finn heard a door creak open, and footsteps heading their way. Maple ducked further behind him, hiding herself from whomever was approaching.

  “Harvey! Cindy! Glad you two are okay,” Otis said.

  The two, Harvey and Cindy, rushed over, their faces flushed with excitement. Finn tensed, instinctively moving to shield Maple. Centuries of distrust weren’t easily forgotten.

  “Otis!” Harvey said as he approached, his voice tinged with awe. “You won’t believe what just happened. We were saved by sprites!”

  Finn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He glanced at Maple, who peeked out from behind him, her eyes wide with curiosity. Otis chuckled, tipping his hat towards Finn and Maple. “Seems we’ve all had similar experiences today. These two kept me from walking right into that storm’s path.”

  Harvey and Cindy jolted, as if just now realizing Finn and Maple were there. Finn didn’t blame them; the storm had likely rattled their nerves, and in a moment of crisis, it was easy to overlook the unexpected.

  “I’ll be,” Harvey breathed, his gaze shifting to Finn and Maple. Finn felt an unfamiliar warmth blooming in his chest. It had been centuries since he’d seen humans or elves look at sprites with anything other than fear or disdain. The genuine gratitude in Otis’ eyes stirred something within him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. More people came up to them, expressing their thanks, and Finn found himself reflecting on the day’s events. He’d acted on instinct, protecting the townsfolk without a second thought. It was... nice, he realized with a start. Nice to help, to be appreciated. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he thought of Woods back on the farm, doing the same thing. Trying to help in any way he could. His brother would be proud to see how far he’d come, from a bitter, distrustful nomad to someone who could stand here, accepting thanks from the very species that had once hunted their kind.

  “Well, what do we do now?” Otis asked, his voice heavy with the weight of responsibility as he addressed the group.

  Harvey glanced around at the scattered debris and wreckage left in the storm’s wake. His shoulders sagged. “It’ll probably take a few weeks just to clean this mess up. Then maybe a few more to start fixing what’s been damaged.”

  Finn surveyed the town, taking in the scene of devastation. Shingles lay scattered where roofs had once been intact, and jagged stumps were all that remained of fence posts. The streets were littered with debris—broken wood, bits of stone, and overturned carts. Several lampposts had been knocked to the ground, twisted and bent. At the heart of the destruction, a massive oak tree sprawled across the town square, its gnarled roots exposed like skeletal fingers, its once-mighty branches now splintered and crushed beneath the weight of the storm.

  “A few weeks and the whole town,” Otis sighed, shaking his head. “We should check in on folks, make sure everyone got through the worst of it.”

  “Oh, we’ve already taken care of that,” Finn said, stepping forward.

  “We?” Cindy asked, her brow furrowed as she tilted her head. “You mean, you and the other two sprites we met?”

  “Yes, the other two,” Finn said slowly, careful with his words. He figured it was best to keep the full truth under wraps. No need to mention the other sprites hiding in Sagewood just yet. He was sure the truth would come out eventually, as people talked about who had saved them, but he didn’t feel like disclosing the whole truth. Not yet anyway.

  ***

  Reed slouched against the wall of Titus’ forge, arms crossed, trying not to roll his eyes as the blacksmith’s enthusiasm bubbled over. The man’s excitement was palpable, his voice rising and falling as he chattered away with Clay about wing designs and materials.

  “We could use a lightweight alloy,” Titus mused, measuring Clay’s good wing. “Something flexible yet sturdy.”

  Clay nodded eagerly, his eyes shining. “And maybe have it fold up so I can carry it on my back when I’m not in my animal form?”

  Reed suppressed a sigh. He’d been down this road before, countless times in the past few years. The disappointment in Clay’s eyes after each failed attempt... it gnawed at Reed’s heart. He’d poured years into crafting prosthetics, infusing them with every bit of magic he was capable of. If he couldn’t make it work, what chance did this mere human have?

  “We’ll need to consider aerodynamics,” Titus continued, scribbling furiously in a notebook. “The shape of the wing has got to be perfect…”

  Reed tuned them out, his gaze drifting to the window. The sky caught his attention, and he blinked in surprise. The ominous green had faded, replaced by a familiar azure blue. The storm had passed, as quickly as it had come, it seemed. Reed pushed himself off the wall, his nerves still on edge. “Storm’s over. Clay, it’s time we headed back to the farm. Matt’ll be wondering where we are.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Clay’s face fell, his shoulders slumping in disappointment. He turned to Titus, his voice small. “I guess we have to go...”

  Titus set down his notebook, his brow furrowed. “Hold on a minute,” he said, addressing Reed. “Couldn’t Clay stay just a bit longer? At least until we’ve got a solid design? It’s the least I can do after you two waited out the storm with me.”

  Reed narrowed his eyes, studying the blacksmith. There was an eagerness in Titus’ gaze that made Reed uneasy. He’d seen that look before, from humans who viewed sprites as curiosities to be studied or exploited. Woods had warned him for centuries to be cautious around humans. Some were curious, some were greedy, and most couldn’t be trusted. And at this moment, with Titus staring at him like he was more artifact than being, Reed felt the weight of those warnings pressing in on him.

  “No. We’ll be leaving now. And,” Reed said, his voice low and firm, “it would be better for you to forget about sprites altogether. Forget you even saw us here today.”

  Clay stepped between them, his single hand raised placatingly. “Reed, please,” he said, his eyes wide and hopeful. “Could we stay just a little while longer? This... this could be my one chance to fly again.”

  Reed’s resolve wavered as he looked at Clay. The younger sprite’s face was alight with a hope Reed hadn’t seen in years. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. A few more moments wouldn’t hurt. Reed felt the last of his resolve collapse with the slump of his shoulders.

  “Fine,” Reed grumbled, turning to Titus. “We’ll stay a bit longer. But I’m helping with the final design.”

  Titus and Clay exchanged a quick, excited look. Titus’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with barely contained enthusiasm. “I’ll get the forge going,” he said, practically bouncing on his heels.

  ***

  Ivy stared in disbelief as the tornado, crackling with green lightning, unraveled into nothing, leaving only a clear sky and a soft, calming breeze. She turned to Rock, her eyes wide with amazement.

  “Rock! Did you see that? That was insane!” she exclaimed, grinning despite the wild mess of her hair. Her hat had vanished at some point during the chaos, but she barely noticed, and cared even less. The storm was over! For the first time in a while, relief washed over her. “What do you think happened to the Goddess?”

  Rock remained silent for a moment, his gaze still fixed on the sky where the storm had been, as if weighing the implications. He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Rock,” he grunted.

  Ivy nodded, understanding completely. Good riddance indeed. The Goddess had caused enough destruction for one day. As they made their way back into town, the extent of the damage became clear. Fallen trees blocked roads, and debris littered the streets.

  In the town square, a massive oak had toppled, its roots exposed to the air. Rock immediately set to work, his moose form easily maneuvering the trunk. Ivy marveled at his strength as he pushed the tree aside, clearing the way for the villagers. Harvey and Cindy, the couple from the inn, appeared next to Rock, helping him to clear the branches left behind.

  To Ivy’s surprise, more townspeople began to emerge from their homes and shops. They trickled into the square, cautious at first, but when they saw the sprites already at work, something shifted in the air. Fear and suspicion, so often the default reaction to sprites, seemed nonexistent, as if swept away by the storm. The villagers rallied, moving with purpose to help clean up the mess the Goddess’s wrath had left behind.

  Across the square, Finn and Maple stood by a weathered old man, all of them immersed in conversation. Finn was gesturing toward a pile of broken fence posts, while Maple nodded, her small frame still partially hidden behind Finn as they discussed how best to repair the damage. The old man looked skeptical for a moment, but then he gave a resigned shrug, and the three of them headed toward the mess, ready to begin.

  Flint, in his animal form, was working alongside a group of villagers to right an overturned cart. Holly and Fern joined him, both helping where they could. And there, standing amid the chaos, was the Sagewood shopkeeper, his hands shaking, but his eyes focused, as he lifted broken shingles and passed them along to be cleared. He looked anxious by the presence of sprites in the town, but was helping them nonetheless.

  Ivy felt relieved as she watched them all, sprites and humans, working side by side. There was no hesitation, no unkind feelings. Just a unified effort to fix what was broken. To heal.

  She stepped forward, rolling up her sleeves and heading toward a pile of broken timber. As she bent to lift a splintered board, a young dwarven boy in his teenage years ran up beside her. “Need some help?” he asked, his face and beard smeared with dirt, but his eyes bright with determination.

  Ivy smiled, handing him the board. “Sure. Let’s fix this place up.”

  Together, they worked in the heart of the town, cleaning, lifting, and rebuilding. What had once been a town divided by fear now felt like a place on the brink of something new—a future where sprites and humans could not only coexist but thrive together.

  And as the sun began to set, casting a golden light over Sagewood, Ivy couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps for the first time in centuries, this place was starting to feel like home. Not just the farm, but the entirety of Sagewood.

  When the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the town looked remarkably better. Tired but satisfied, Ivy gathered with the other sprites in the square. Otis, the town’s baron, approached them with a warm smile.

  “We can’t thank you enough,” he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. “Your help today has been invaluable. Please, come back tomorrow. We’d be honored to have your assistance as we continue to rebuild.”

  Ivy glanced at Rock, who nodded his approval. She turned back to Otis with a smile. “We’d be happy to help,” she replied, feeling a newfound connection to the town and its people. The sprites, led by her, began to make their way back to the farm.

  It was when they were out of the town square that Ivy paused mid-step. She frowned as a sudden realization hit her. Clay and Reed were missing. She turned, scanning the path behind them. How had she not noticed their absence earlier? Her heart quickened with worry as she searched the faces of the sprites who had gathered with her—Flint, Holly, Fern, Maple, Rock, and Finn—none of them were the ones she was looking for.

  “Where did they go?” she muttered under her breath, her gaze moving between the trees and the road they’d just traveled.

  Flint noticed her hesitation and stepped up beside her. “What is it?” he asked, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon as if ready for a threat.

  “Clay and Reed,” Ivy said, the worry creeping into her voice. “Has anyone seen them since the storm passed?”

  A flicker of concern crossed Flint’s face, and he shared a glance with Fern, who scanned the trees with her bespectacled eyes. Finn, too, looked unsettled, though he kept quiet.

  “They must’ve gotten lost in the commotion,” Fern offered, “The storm… the clean-up... I actually don’t recall seeing either one of them that whole time.”

  Ivy nodded, though her worry deepened. While both sprites were capable, Clay was a bit of a wild card when it came to safety. Had something happened to them? She bit her lip, her mind racing through possibilities. They’d been through too much already for her to start losing people now.

  “Well,” Ivy said, steeling herself as she turned back toward the path, “we need to find them. They must still be in Sagewood somewhere.”

  Before the group could set off looking for Reed and Clay, however, Ivy glanced back down toward the farm, also finding it suspicious that Matt or Woods hadn’t come in the few hours since the Goddess’s wrath had passed. “Rock, you need to go back to the farm and check on Matt and his family—I’m worried no one has checked on them yet.”

  “Rock,” Rock replied, giving Ivy pause. Yes, Woods was with them, but it wasn’t like any of them to stay away for this long.

  “Take Finn with you, we’ll meet back up at the farm after we find Clay and Reed.”