Rock and Ivy walked in silence toward the cave. He wanted to tell her about the River Spirit—wanted to unburden himself of what he’d seen by the river—but the words wouldn’t come. The memory of the River Spirit’s final moments haunted him, and he knew he’d carry it for the rest of his life. He couldn’t share it. Not even with Ivy.

  She looked radiant, as always, but he barely registered her presence. The fresh memory of the River Spirit’s fading form forced its way into his thoughts, twisting through his mind like roots cracking stone.

  Finding time alone with Ivy was usually Rock’s favorite pastime, but not like this. Not under these circumstances. He shuddered as the memory resurfaced again—relentless, inescapable.

  “Are you all right, Rock?” Ivy cast him a concerned glance as they trudged the path to the cave, their boots squelching in the mud.

  “Rock,” he answered quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. He berated himself. Why did he always sound like such a fool in front of Ivy? “Rock,” he hastily added.

  Ivy nodded, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. Rock diverted his gaze to the path, focusing on the ground before him. Why did the right words always elude him in her presence?

  Soon, the two sprites stood before the opening of the cave. A few years ago, they’d significantly widened the entrance to free the dragon that had been trapped on the bottom floor, but the cave walls still stood strong. There were fewer levels to explore, and Matt, Rock, and Ivy had done so extensively over the seasons. It always surprised Rock when Matt stumbled upon another gem or rare ore. He wondered if the cave was somehow self-regenerating, or if the magic made new treasures for Matt to find every time he entered.

  With a final glance around the entrance, Ivy took a step forward, but Rock reached out with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Rock… rock,” he said, trying to convey just how serious things might be within the walls of the cave. He’d been scant on the details beforehand, but he did feel the need to warn her. Just in case.

  “I’m sure he’s fine, Rock,” Ivy said, a playful smile gracing her features. “He’s a nature spirit. They’re the most powerful things in the world. They’re basically immortal.” With that, Ivy slipped in through the entrance.

  Rock sighed. He’d thought that too, but the events of the day had quickly changed his mind. The River Spirit had died right in front of his eyes. He gulped, worried about what they would find, but followed Ivy into the cave.

  They walked in silence, the glittering walls like a million eyes fixed on the two sprites. Rock looked up at the statue of the Harvest Goddess as they passed by, remembering the day that he, Woods, and Matt had stumbled upon it. It had been years ago, and so much had changed since then. Hopefully, the farm was close to level ten now, and it wouldn’t be much longer until the Goddess was free.

  Together, they descended the staircase, hopping down each step. Their boots scuffed against the stone—the only sound in the heavy silence. They didn’t carry a light source with them, as sprites could see even in the darkest of spaces. Rock drew his eyebrows together as he tried to recall what Matt had nicknamed the ability. Darkvision. A word from his world, not this one. To sprites, it wasn’t a special ability, it was just the way things were. To a human, though, even the most mundane things were fascinating, especially to a human as excitable as Matt. No, not excitable. What was the word Matt had used?

  Nerdy.

  Rock smiled despite the glum situation. Matt was a nerdy human. Probably one of the nerdiest.

  Though ‘darkvision’ was useful, the lower levels of the cave weren’t entirely shrouded in black. Thin shafts of light speared down from unseen cracks above, cutting through the darkness and casting pale, shifting beams across the lower levels. The effect was eerie—patches of brilliance illuminating jagged crystal formations, while the rest of the cavern remained swallowed up in shadow.

  Rock stopped to glance around the cave, his breath catching as he took in the changes. Something was wrong. He had spent long afternoons here with Matt and Ivy, weaving through the tunnels, knowing every bend and hollow. But now, the cavern barely resembled the place he remembered. The air should have been still, cool against his skin, carrying the familiar scent of damp stone. Instead, the cave felt… alive.

  Great spires of crystal jutted from the ground like the ribs of some immense, long-buried beast, their facets refracting the small shafts of light into shifting, spectral hues. Some of the formations were larger than Rock himself, their edges too sharp, too pristine—like they had erupted overnight rather than forming over centuries. Clusters of jagged growths lined the walls, humming faintly, as though charged with some unseen energy. Beneath his feet, cracks webbed across the stone, glowing with a dim light, as if the earth itself had been fractured.

  Then—a tremor. A brief, shuddering ripple through the ground. Rock tensed. Ivy’s hand found his, steady but small against his own. He was grateful for her presence. He wouldn’t have dared come alone into the cave before, and certainly not now. Not with the massive transformation the cave had undergone. It was too different now, a feeling of danger permeating the air.

  Ivy murmured something about how much had changed, but Rock barely heard her. He forced himself to stay quiet, to keep his expression neutral. He didn’t want her to know how uneasy he felt, how every instinct told him they were walking into something far beyond their understanding. After a few moments, they continued their search for the Cave Spirit.

  “I don’t think he’s returned,” Ivy said after a few minutes of them wandering the lower levels. “Where in the world could he have gone? He must have left behind some sort of clue.”

  Rock nodded but said nothing. The Cave Spirit had been gone for years. Hoping for his return felt foolish, but with everything happening, they couldn’t ignore the possibility.

  He and Ivy split up, moving through the crystalline spires, their footsteps echoing in the stillness. They searched, tracing glowing fissures, peering into shadowed alcoves, yet the Cave Spirit remained missing, as he had been for years.

  After more than an hour of searching, the duo gave up and turned around, making the trek quietly back to the upper levels of the cave.

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Rock?”

  “Rock,” he answered off-handedly, his mind elsewhere.

  Ivy gave him a worried look. “You’re usually a lot more talkative than this. Something must really have you rattled. Please, will you tell me what’s going on?”

  Rock chewed his lip, trying to come up with the right words. He didn’t want to burden her needlessly—but she deserved to know why they’d been sent to search the cave. Maybe he could offer her a sliver of the truth, just enough to answer the question without unraveling the full horror.

  But how did one choose which parts to tell from a nightmare?

  “Rock,” he began hesitantly. At that same moment, shards of stone began to clatter around them, and the ground began to tremble beneath their feet.

  Without a word, Rock and Ivy braced themselves, slipping into a defensive stance. The ground beneath them trembled, the glowing fissures widening with a brittle, cracking sound. For a fleeting moment, Rock’s pulse quickened—was something rising from below? Some lurking, subterranean horror? Rock grabbed Ivy and pulled her to safety just in time as the ground shifted beneath their feet.

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  Then, from the shifting earth, a jagged hand, completely made from stone, clawed its way free.

  Rock barely had time to process the sight before the rest of the figure followed, wrenching itself upward in a slow, agonizing ascent. The Cave Spirit emerged from the fractured ground, his once-magnificent form reduced to something frail, something broken. His luminous body, once plated in brilliant ores and glimmering shards, now flickered dimly through deep, jagged gaps in his armor. Crystals that had once jutted proudly from his shoulders were fractured or missing entirely, leaving behind raw, uneven edges.

  He collapsed forward, landing in a kneeling position, his massive frame barely holding together. The cave stilled, the tremors subsiding, but the silence that followed felt heavier than the shaking earth had been. Rock swallowed hard.

  The Cave Spirit had returned.

  “Rock. Ivy,” he said, his low voice raspier than usual. The Cave Spirit’s coughing rattled through the cavern, as loud as a rockslide.

  Rock’s stomach clenched at the spirit’s sorry state. The Cave Spirit was always one that Rock looked up to—but seeing him now made his heart ache.

  Ivy rushed to the spirit’s side, but Rock stayed behind. They were sprites, not healers. What was a miniscule sprite going to do for the all-powerful Cave Spirit? Even the doctor in town, with all his medical instruments and many tinctures, could do little at this point. And the magical healer—the River Spirit, was already gone. Rock’s mouth went dry as the Cave Spirit spoke up again.

  “I’m glad I found you two,” the Cave Spirit rasped. “You must tell the others… tell them what lies below, in the deep veins beneath Etheria.”

  “We can go get the others—we’ll be right back—” Ivy started, stepping forward.

  The Cave Spirit raised a chipped hand, silencing her mid-sentence. “I… am not long for this realm,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  Ivy hesitated, then turned to Rock, her eyes lined with shimmering tears. Rock didn’t look at her. He kept his gaze locked on the Cave Spirit’s crumbling form, his jaw tight. He had already watched one nature spirit die today. And judging by the way the Cave Spirit’s glow flickered like a dying ember, he knew he was about to witness another. The memory of the River Spirit’s final moments replayed in his mind—the light fading, the magic unraveling, and then… nothing.

  The Cave Spirit’s body trembled. “It is… as bad as it could be,” he said, pausing as a violent cough racked his frame. The sound was like stone grinding against itself, deep and pained. “The magic below is as it is above… unbalanced. I have never seen it this way. And there is little time left to reverse it.”

  Ivy scrubbed her eyes and turned back to him. “What can we do?” she asked, voice desperate.

  The Cave Spirit inhaled—a strained, rattling sound. “Tell Matt… that the magic in Etheria is growing too strong… everyone is in grave danger,” his words grew more disjointed between labored breaths. “He must… he must awaken the Goddess. It is our only hope…”

  His voice faltered, then failed entirely. The light within him flickered, sputtering like a candle in the wind. The shards plating his body trembled, then began to fall—one by one, crashing against the stone floor with sharp, ringing echoes.

  Rock barely had time to react before larger pieces began to collapse. He grabbed Ivy, pulling her back as chunks of ore and crystal shattered where she’d been standing. Even once they were at a safe distance, he kept his arm around her, holding her close as they watched the spirit fall apart.

  The Cave Spirit convulsed, a final, wracking tremor shaking his form. His glow faded, his silhouette dissolving into nothingness. And then—silence.

  The last remnants of his light winked out, leaving Rock and Ivy standing alone amidst the shards and debris.

  In a matter of seconds, it was over. Ivy’s quiet sobs were the only sound, muffled against Rock’s chest as he held her close. He held tightly, feeling the tremors of her cries until they softened into sniffles. But his own eyes remained fixed on the pile of shattered ores. The fragments lay in a scattered heap, lifeless and cold, their once-luminous edges now dull. Just a pile of dust and stone. That was all that remained. And yet…

  Rock swallowed hard. Something about it didn’t feel right. Even as his mind had combed over the River Spirit’s demise, something seemed off.

  Nature spirits didn’t just die. They were magic, woven into the land itself. Could one truly be snuffed out so easily? Or was this something else? Some kind of hibernation? Could they be brought back?

  He wanted to believe that. But the emptiness in the air, the way the magic had simply ceased with both the Cave and the River spirits—it felt permanent.

  Still, he lingered a moment longer, staring at the remains as if they might stir, as if the Cave Spirit might pull himself back together, shaking off the dust and laughing at them for doubting.

  Nothing moved.

  Rock exhaled, and turned away. With heavy steps, he led Ivy from the cave. The darkness of the evening swallowed them, and the shattered remains of their friend faded into the shadows behind them.

  ***

  Woods trudged back from the forest glade, every step heavier than the last. The familiar paths, once brimming with life and vitality, now felt foreign, like the land was recoiling from the magic that had warped it. The imbalance had plagued the land for decades, but this—this was different. The magic suffusing the earth wasn’t just problematic; it was toxic, leeching into everything it touched. And without the spirits to guide it, how long before it became lethal? Not just for magical beings, like spirits and sprites, but for Matt and his family?

  His stomach twisted at the thought, an oppressive weight settling in his chest. The farm was just ahead, and with it, the hope that Rock and Ivy had found something other than what he dreaded was in the cave. He clung to that thought like a lifeline.

  If they could still speak with the Cave Spirit, maybe there was a chance. The River and Forest spirits had only offered bits of information, not any tangible solutions. If the Cave Spirit couldn’t be found, or worse... Woods forced himself to breathe. They’d have to find a different solution, and fast. There wasn’t much time left.

  He stopped on the outskirts of the farm, staring at the familiar landscape, now shadowed in a way it hadn’t been before. It was evening, and the events of the day had aged him, each moment stretching like an eternity. He had faced loss before—sprites weren’t strangers to death. But this? The loss of the spirits meant the death of the land itself, and Woods felt powerless to stop it.

  Walking numbly past the crop fields, he moved toward the chasms in the south, the place where the Cave Spirit had once dwelled. He didn’t want to see Matt or the others. Not when he had no answers. Not when everything he thought he could protect was slipping through his fingers.

  Woods spotted them before he reached the cave entrance—Rock and Ivy sitting together on a boulder. Ivy’s face was streaked with tears. Rock sat beside her, hunched forward, hands clasped together tightly. Even in the dim light, Woods could see the tension in his frame, the way his knuckles had gone white.

  Something in Woods’ chest tightened. He’d known Ivy and Rock their whole lives—he could read them as easily as the shifting of the seasons. And right now, their faces told him everything. The worst had come to pass. He didn’t need to ask.

  Still, the words came anyway. “He’s gone, then?”

  Rock lifted his head. His mouth opened slightly—just enough to form a single, quiet word. “Rock.”

  Ivy inhaled shakily. “He came back,” she whispered. “But not for long. He—he was barely holding together. He told us that the magic below was just as bad as it is up here. Unbalanced. Worse than he’d ever seen.”

  Woods swallowed. “Did he say anything else?”

  Ivy wiped at her face. “Yeah. That we have one chance to fix this.” She turned to Woods, her expression fragile, but steady. “The only way is to awaken the Goddess.”

  Woods clenched his fists, exhaling sharply through his nose. So that was it, then. It was the same as the Forest Spirit had said. There was no other way. And now, another nature spirit was gone. Just another loss in a world unraveling too fast.

  He forced a nod. “Then we’d better move. Will you help me gather the others?”

  Rock and Ivy rose in silence, their movements slow, heavy. Without a word, the three sprites turned north, stepping into the dark forest that surrounded the farm. The trees loomed taller in the night, their branches whispering with the wind, as if murmuring condolences. The path ahead was faintly lit by scattered beams of moonlight, casting shifting shadows across the undergrowth. They walked onward, toward the farmhouse, where the others would surely be waiting. Perhaps some of the younger sprites were already asleep, blissfully unaware of the weight of what had just been lost.

  Woods didn’t look back. He already knew what he’d see. A dark, empty cave where a friend used to be.

  They’d known for centuries what needed to be done: awaken the Goddess. But Matt wasn’t ready. The farm hadn’t yet reached level ten. As they trekked through the forest, Woods turned back to Rock and Ivy, their faces still marked with grief and loss.

  “I’m sorry you two had to go through that.” The apology was thin, inadequate for the weight of their burden. “I should’ve come here myself.”

  But even as he spoke, Woods knew there hadn’t been time. The passing of the other two spirits had consumed the last few hours, and now, with the Cave Spirit gone too, they were out of time. How much longer until the strange new growth magic overtook everything? Until there was nothing left to save? Until the land swallowed them all up, the farm, the sprites, and Matt’s family? Woods shuddered. “Goddess help us all.”

  He turned away, leaving Rock to comfort Ivy, the ache in his chest deepening with every step. The spirits had always been the protectors, the balance that kept the land alive. Now, with their absence, the danger grew closer with every passing hour.

  Woods’ thoughts turned to Matt. He was their only hope now. But how quickly could he level the farm?