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[Book 4] Chapter Thirty

  The summer passed quickly and without much turmoil. The land was still healing from the magical imbalances, but by the first few weeks of fall, we could see glimpses of the normal Sagewood.

  I adjusted my collar in the mirror, watching Leia waddle past with an armful of fresh flowers. Her belly was enormous now, but her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “You sure you’re up for this?” I caught her arm as she nearly tripped. “We could stay home, put your feet up...”

  “Don’t you dare.” She pressed the bouquet into my hands. “I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. Plus, I made three pies just for this festival.”

  “Are these pies of the edible variety or did you leave them in the oven too long again?” I grinned at her mock outrage.

  Link burst through the door, covered in mud. “Dad! Clay says the wagon’s ready!”

  “Link Miller, what did you do to those clean clothes?” Leia groaned.

  “It wasn’t me, it was Lucy!” He pointed at his sister, who sat pristinely clean in her festival dress, playing with blocks. For once she seemed calm, content to sit and play.

  I scooped Lucy up while Leia herded Link into the other room to change. Through the window, I could see the sprites decorating our wagon with autumn leaves and lanterns. The festival would be different this year, as my long-time friends would be attending with the townsfolk—something the sprites had never done before.

  The farm looked different now, softened by autumn’s touch. The trees lining the paths had turned a fiery mix of gold and red, their leaves falling in quiet waves, blanketing the ground like a patchwork of quilts. Huge pumpkins dotted the fields, their deep orange skins ripened by the steady patience of the season.

  I relished the steady, slow growth of the crops, watching as the pumpkins swelled under the cool fall skies. Each day passed quietly and unrushed—my children grew a little taller, their laughter echoing through the crisp air, while Leia’s belly rounded a little more with each passing sunset. It was a season of quiet change, where time moved slowly enough to savor each moment, to see the farm flourish alongside my growing family. There was something comforting in the way the world seemed to breathe with me, each change a gentle reminder that life, in all its forms, took time to ripen.

  Leia returned a few minutes later with a freshly cleaned Link. “Okay, now we’re ready.”

  I helped her into the wagon, watching her face light up at the lantern-lit path leading to town. The people of Sagewood had outdone themselves with the decorations. Music and laughter drifted up from the town, where the festival was already in full swing.

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  “Think you can make it through the night without going into labor?” I teased.

  “No promises.” She squeezed my hand. “But I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Plus, I’ve still got a few more weeks before this baby comes. I’ll be fine.”

  The wagon rolled into town square where lanterns cast a warm glow over Sagewood. Familiar faces turned to greet us, and I helped Leia down from her seat while Link bounded ahead toward the games, Lucy following closely behind him. I watched after them, feeling a hint of sadness that they both were getting so big and independent.

  “Matt! About time you showed up.” Harvey pressed a mug of cider into my hand. “And look who else made it!”

  The sprites filtered through the crowd, no longer hiding or ducking away. Clay perched on Titus’ shoulder, showing off his newly finished mechanical wing to anyone who would look. Titus was proud to talk to anyone about the prosthetic, knowing that—in a small way—he’d managed to repay the sprites back for saving the town.

  Reed, Flint, and Rock were off playing with the town’s children, offering rides to them in their animal forms. Maple, Holly, and Ivy had joined Cindy at her pie stand, all of them deep in discussion about recipes. I knew Finn and the southern sprites were somewhere in the mix as well, all of them friendly with the townspeople.

  “Never thought I’d see the day,” Otis said from behind me. “Sprites at our harvest festival. Times sure have changed.” He gave me a wide smile, the wrinkles on the sides of his eyes stacking. “It’s fitting, though. It wouldn’t be a party without them. And there honestly wouldn’t be a Sagewood without them either.”

  I laughed and chatted, not keeping track of the time or the number of drinks I had as the festival carried us into the night. But I never let Leia out of my sight, casting glances her way between conversations, always watching. But she just smiled back at me, radiant under the lanterns, her skin catching the soft glow and her hair tumbling in waves around her shoulders. She was breathtaking, graceful even in this late stage of pregnancy. I felt a swell of gratitude and wanted to memorize every detail of this moment—the way she looked, the way she laughed, the gentle curve of her hand resting over our growing family.

  The harvest moon hung low and full above us, casting everything in a gentle glow. I took a long sip of cider, the taste of apples and spice lingering, and watched as Lucy toddled after Link, her tiny legs carrying her across the town square that had seen so much in recent years. The crowd parted for her with smiles and laughter, townsfolk and sprites alike nodding with quiet, shared pride.

  The sight should have been impossible. Here was my family, my friends, the people of this town, the sprites—all gathered beneath the vast autumn sky. Every struggle, every loss, every hard-won victory had led to this moment, woven into something I could hardly believe was real.

  For a heartbeat, time stilled. The music faded to a hum, and the cool night air settled around us. Contentment filled me, as warm and steady as the earth beneath my feet. I thought back to that first day I’d stepped onto my grandfather’s farm, uncertain and alone, the world unfamiliar and terrifying.

  Now, I stood in the heart of this life, surrounded by love and magic greater than anything I’d ever dared to dream.

  And I knew, as surely as the seasons turned, that this was where I belonged—where I was always meant to be.

  THE END.

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