After winding through the dense forest along the well-worn path to Sagewood, I brought the wagon to a stop in the bustling center of town. Goldie, my old and reliable mare, stood calmly amidst the noise and commotion, completely unbothered by the clamor around us. She’d held her own during the race, but truth be told, pulling wagons was her real strength. The younger horses were always too jittery for the job, but Goldie—she was steady and dependable. I trusted her to carry my family into town without a second thought.

  The path into Sagewood was one I’d taken hundreds of times over the past few years, but today the forest looked unrecognizable. The trees seemed taller, their leaves a richer shade of green, and the air was thick with the scent of blooming wildflowers. Birds sang melodies I had never heard before, and the sunlight filtering through the branches cast a magical glow on the forest floor. It looked like something out of a fairytale book, but I’d watched the foliage wearily on the ride. Since the run-in with the vines, I’d grown disenchanted with the lush greenery.

  Leia and the children accompanied me today, Link and Lucy’s faces alight with excitement for our outing. Their childlike wonder was contagious, and despite my worry, I couldn’t help but smile. Even a simple trip into Sagewood was the highlight of their week. What was simply a mundane errand for Leia and I was a full-blown adventure for them.

  “Dad, can I go to the nursery?” Link asked, unable to sit still on the bench of the wagon. I glanced at Leia, who shrugged. Link was most likely going to the nursery to seek out Axel, his favorite uncle. I nodded. “I have to pick up some spring seeds from there, so I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

  Link agreed and launched himself from the wagon, disappearing in the direction of the nursery. Lucy squirmed next to Leia, wanting to follow Link.

  “Are you going to the nursery too?” I asked Leia. Usually when we were in town, we visited her family, which I know her parents appreciated. She shook her head.

  “I’m going to go see Dr. Night.”

  I started, but she gave me a reassuring smile.

  “I’ve just been feeling a little fatigued lately. I’ll meet you back here in an hour or so to pick you and Link up.” Leia left with Lucy in the direction of the clinic, the wagon wheels grinding against the pavement. I swallowed hard, trying to push down the anxiety that stemmed from the possibility of her being sick. Could it be from the imbalance of magic? Would it eventually affect my kids? Elves were higher magic than humans, so it could be a very real possibility that she’d be affected before me if the magic was off. I shook my head to dispel the intrusive thoughts. I’d find a solution to the magic problem before it reached my family. That was part of the reason I was here today.

  Sagewood brimmed with springtime energy, the chatter of townsfolk weaving through the cobbled streets like a lively melody. Children wove between bustling adults and conversation spilled from every open doorway. Hearty laughter could be heard echoing from the inn, some of the townsfolk already indulging in Cindy’s famous cider, despite the early hour. The scent of fresh bread and roasted meat mingled with the crisp morning air.

  With the turn of the season, the town had sprung to life, its people reveling in the warmth that spring had brough. But as I scanned the familiar faces, I couldn’t shake the anxious feeling I’d had since yesterday. The town seemed blissfully unaware of the darkness creeping at its borders, the unseen danger stirring just beyond the treeline. I was still shaken from my interaction with the rogue vines during fishing, and I found myself scanning every little detail along the drive.

  Still, it was nice seeing everyone I’d come to know over the years. It was the same Sagewood, but now it thrived with a new brilliance, a welcome change from when I first arrived.

  Goldie whinnied softly as I led her to the hitching post outside the mayor’s office. In my back pocket, I had a summons letter, formally notarized and stamped, the sender none other than the Baron of Sagewood. In the letter it said that the mayor would be present at the meeting as well. Despite the formality and the memories associated with this particular building, I walked into the mayor’s office with a huge smile. It was always a good time seeing my old friends.

  “Otis! Harvey!” I called out as I entered.

  Both men looked up at me from a mess of papers on the large oak desk. They had been rightfully voted into their positions a few years ago and had worked tirelessly to serve the people of Sagewood. Otis, the new Baron, gave me a tired smile, the wrinkles stacking on the sides of his eyes. His hair had turned silvery white over the years, and the lines of his forehead were deeper now, evidence of the responsibilities he carried. Despite his age, his eyes still sparkled with the same enthusiasm and integrity I admired.

  Harvey, the Mayor, had stepped away from his work at the inn after his daughter, Martha, had taken it over. His face, framed by a neatly trimmed beard, was warm and welcoming, just as he’d been on my first day in Sagewood all those years ago. Even though he was a half-elf and looked more youthful than Otis, he hadn’t escaped the wear of responsibility. Silver streaked through his hair and beard, giving him a distinguished look. While both men had aged significantly in their service, their dedication to Sagewood had never wavered.

  Otis spoke up first. “Hey, Matt. Glad you could make it. I know springtime is busy for a farmer.”

  “Yes, thank you for making time to come see us,” Harvey added, shuffling some papers on the desk as he gave me a warm smile. “Cindy knew you’d be coming, so she sent me with a pint of cider and a loaf of bread to take home to the family.”

  The room felt like a second home, something I’d never thought would happen to the mayor’s office. It was only a few short years ago that I was in this very room, upsetting Mayor Morris by declining his offer to buy my farm.

  “Take a seat, I’ll pour us all a glass,” Harvey offered, motioning to a nearby chair. The office wasn’t as opulently decorated as it had been under its previous mayor, but wooden chairs were as good a seat as any.

  I eyed the bottle. I’d grown a lot over the years, but my tolerance for this world’s alcohol had remained the same. As if reading my thoughts, Harvey laughed. “It’s not spiked, don’t worry.” These men knew me well enough to know that after a few drinks, I’d start spouting off about nerd lore from my world.

  “We’ve called you here today because of some distressing events in Sagewood,” Otis said as Harvey poured the drinks.

  Images from the past few days flashed through my mind—the rogue vines, the encroaching forest, and the disappearance of the nature spirits. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, trying to play dumb.

  Otis collapsed into one of the chairs and accepted a glass of cider from Harvey. “Odd things are happenin’ and we don’t have any explanation as to why.” He swirled the cider around before downing it in one gulp. “I wish Cindy would’ve spiked this. I could use a strong drink right about now.”

  Harvey cleared his throat and set his glass on the desk, “I know you’re not from a world with magic,” he said, meeting my eyes, “but this world is governed by it. Unfortunately, we don’t understand a lot of the magical laws at play.”

  “Magical laws…” Otis grumbled into his drink, “It doesn’t take a genius to know somethin’s off. Ever since that pit opened up at the horse race, nothin’s felt right around here.”

  “Have you seen the forest lately?” Harvey cut in, “I know it was blighted when you first arrived, but even twenty years ago when it was healthy, it never looked like this.”

  I nodded, attempting to look perplexed. Over the course of my time here, I’d learned a lot about the magic of the land, most of it against my will from Woods’ lectures. Because of the sprites, I probably knew more about the magic than these two men combined. At first, I’d thought the rapid growth was a blessing—evidence of my hard work and proof that the land was thriving. But then it had turned on Reed and me. The memory sent a chill down my spine, my stomach twisting as realization settled in. Had it happened to any of the other townsfolk? I swirled the liquid in my glass, focusing on its slow, hypnotic motion—anything to distract from the way my face was surely losing color. Hopefully, the two men wouldn’t notice.

  Harvey and Otis exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them before Harvey spoke. “There’ve been several supply wagons scheduled to arrive in Sagewood over the past few weeks that simply haven’t shown up.”

  Otis cut in, his expression grave. “They could’ve gotten lost—it’s happened before. But the number of missing wagons is alarming. The town relies on those shipments to stock the general store and to supply Dr. Night’s clinic with medicine.”

  I nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The imbalance of magic didn’t just affect my farm—it was a threat to the town’s economy and the well-being of its people. This didn’t just affect my family; it affected every single person in Sagewood. I swallowed hard.

  Harvey lowered his voice, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “Otis and I think something has angered whatever controls the magic in this land. Maybe a nature spirit or something—I know it sounds crazy!” He held up his hands as I raised an eyebrow, not out of disbelief but because I knew they were closer to the truth than they realized.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Little did they know, I didn’t think they were crazy. The townspeople had no idea how much I’d learned about this world’s hidden workings. If they knew about the sprites, monsters, and nature spirits, they’d likely panic. But their partial understanding was enough to make them wary, and it was clear they needed help navigating the unseen dangers that threatened Sagewood.

  Harvey chuckled hollowly before continuing, “It’s just a thought. Strange things have been seen by the river and along the paths in Sagewood. We can’t rule anything out.”

  “So why did you call me here, then? I mean, I’m just a farmer, and I’m not even from this world originally.”

  “We’re not sure really what to do,” Otis said, standing, “but we’re hopin’ you could get in touch with your wizard friend. Maybe he could come by and help us figure out what to do next.”

  “Do you mean Melvin?”

  Both Harvey and Otis nodded. Melvin was an old friend, but I hadn’t seen him in years. The last time he’d visited was when Link had been born five years ago. I frowned, tapping a finger against my glass. A trip to the shores wasn’t exactly in the cards for me—I could barely step away from the farm for a day, let alone however long it took to track down a wandering wizard. But I did have the sprites, and I doubted they’d complain about an excuse to visit the beach, even if it was just to deliver a message to Melvin. “I can write him a letter, but he travels often.” I stood with a pit forming in my stomach. “I’ll let you two know when I hear back from him.”

  “Wizards,” Otis grumbled. “You know things are getting bad when we start looking to madmen for answers.”

  Harvey let out a chuckle, but it was thin and hollow. I glanced between them, noting the lines of worry carved deep into their faces. Otis and Harvey weren’t just concerned—they were committed. Sagewood was their home, their responsibility, and they’d do whatever it took to protect it. They were the best baron and mayor the town had ever seen, yet they were powerless to help it. That’s why they’d come to me. A farmer.

  Otis, especially, must have been desperate. The man would sooner wrestle a wild boar than admit he needed help—let alone suggest turning to a wizard.

  Both men stood, offering warm handshakes, their grips firm but their eyes weighed down with worry. They thanked me for my time, and Harvey pressed the fresh baked bread into my hands as I left. I shoved it into my bag, my mind elsewhere. My chest felt tight as I thought through all the ramifications. Even as I stepped outside into the fresh air, my lungs felt constricted, as if the weight of the forest pressed in from the edges of town. The trees loomed, their presence suffocating, a reminder that something was closing in.

  “Why if it isn’t Matt Miller!”

  I turned, instantly recognizing the booming voice of Rowan. The dwarf had a huge grin on his face, and next to him was his wife, Renna. Before I could greet them, Rowan enveloped me in a hug that threatened to break my ribs.

  “We heard about Link—” Renna began, but Rowan cut her off.

  “We’ve noticed the river’s been off lately. Something’s not right with it, it’s surprising no one else has almost gotten swept away—”

  “Needless to say, hearing about Link brought up some... unpleasant memories,” Renna added, her eyes growing wide.

  If I weren’t currently being squeezed by Rowan, I might’ve chuckled at the dwarven couple. They were always finishing each other’s sentences. Rowan finally released me, giving me a hearty pat on the back that nearly sent me sprawling.

  “Glad you were there, as always.”

  I looked between the dwarves, confused. “Well, I was pretty useless during the whole ordeal, actually,” I admitted, seeing their puzzled expressions. “Carter was a huge help. You two should be proud of him.”

  “Carter?” Renna asked, eyebrows raised.

  I nodded. “He’s the one who pulled Link out of the river. I couldn’t get to him fast enough.” I shuddered involuntarily. “I’m so glad he was there.”

  Renna and Rowan exchanged glances.

  “Carter definitely left that part out,” Renna said, almost under her breath.

  “He didn’t tell you he was the one who saved Link?” I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.

  “Something’s off with that boy. Never known a dwarf to take to swimming like he does,” Rowan leaned in, voice dropping as if sharing a secret. “It’s not natural. Dwarves aren’t meant to be more than knee-deep in water—and even that’s almost too far.”

  Renna shook her head, looking disappointed. “That boy must think he’s a mermaid. Always looking for an excuse to get himself wet.”

  Rowan straightened, eyes narrowing in seriousness. “Merman, dear. Merman.”

  Renna nodded solemnly.

  I paused, taken aback by their reaction. “Well… at any rate, you should be proud. He saved my son’s life.”

  “Must be repaying the debt for the time you saved him from that same river!” Rowan remarked.

  In reality, their family had repaid me a million times over for saving their son years ago. They’d rebuilt my farmhouse after it had burned down and helped me with countless other projects over the years.

  Renna chuckled, looking almost exasperated. “Carter took an interest in swimming soon after you saved him. He’s been a bleedin’ fish ever since.” She shook her head. “It’s not natural for a dwarf to like water that much. But all that matters is Link’s safe. We’ll be seeing you around. Have a good day, laddie.”

  With that, the pair of dwarves disappeared down the street, leaving me scratching my head. Shaking it off, I turned toward Sagewood Nursery. I would need to pick up some more spring seeds to fill all the new fields the sprites were currently digging.

  ***

  Dr. Night glanced over Leia’s chart, his bespectacled eyes taking in every recorded symptom. Emily, the clinic’s nurse, had filled out the chart moments before. A few long minutes passed, and the doctor grew more perplexed with each passing second.

  “Everything appears normal,” he said as he glanced up to meet Leia’s eyes. “I’m not sure why you would be feeling this way. How long has this been going on for?”

  “Just a week or two. Not too long,” Leia answered.

  Dr Night nodded, handing the chart back to Emily. “Probably just a virus then. If you’re not feeling better in a few days, come back and see me.” The doctor produced a lollipop from his white jacket and handed it to Lucy, who was utterly delighted. “In the meantime, be sure to drink plenty of fluids and rest when you can.” The doctor bid Leia farewell and left the examination room.

  Emily jotted down a few more notes, her pen scratching on paper as she caught up on the details of the checkup. The doctor had already left, leaving the room quiet except for Lucy’s excited humming as she unwrapped the lollipop.

  Leia watched Emily work, her movements precise, methodical—just like Dr. Night. It made sense that the two had wound up together.

  Matt and Emily had dated once, years back when Leia was away in Azurebrook City, but there had never been any lingering awkwardness. No romantic tension. Emily had married Dr. Night last year, sealing that chapter of history with the kind of finality Leia appreciated. No hard feelings. No unresolved emotions.

  Which was a relief. Sagewood was too small a town for malaise.

  And, if Leia was being honest, Emily had never been right for Matt anyway. Matt needed someone who could handle the impossible—a woman who could roll with sprites, the constant bustle of a farm, and a farmer who seemed to attract trouble like a magnet.

  That woman was Leia.

  She’d known it the first time she’d met Matt.

  Leia sighed, glancing down at Lucy—who had somehow managed to tangle her lollipop into her curls. Leia groaned. “Lucy…”

  The little girl grinned, utterly unbothered by the sticky disaster she’d created. Surely, no other woman could handle Matt’s kids. Even if they had half her blood, they were all Matt where it counted—headstrong, curious, and entirely too clever for their own good. It was endearing. It was exhausting. It was, on occasion, a test of her willpower not to throw her hands up and let them run wild like animals.

  But someone had to keep them in line. That someone was her.

  Emily looked up, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Could you be pregnant?”

  Leia glanced at the nurse, wondering if she was serious. She shook her head, stifling a laugh at the ridiculousness of the suggestion. “No way. I’ve been preoccupied with the kids, and Matt has been so busy with spring planting and other projects, we haven’t even seen each other, let alone…” she trailed off. That wasn’t entirely true. Matt had been busy, and they’d rarely had time to spend together, but there had been a few moments here and there.

  Emily looked at Leia expectantly before continuing. “All the symptoms add up. Fatigue, nausea, general discomfort. Dr. Night always jumps to viral illnesses first, but sometimes he forgets to ask the most obvious questions.” Emily scratched something down on the chart with her pen.

  “Wait, no. That can’t be right.” Leia muttered to herself. But it did add up. Leia stood, feeling herself pale. “No. There’s no way. I… I already have a baby,” she gestured at Lucy, who was still smiling, “I can’t have another one, not yet at least.”

  Emily shrugged. “Maybe. Lucy’s more of a toddler than a baby now, but you can always come back here in a couple of days, and we can check you again for something else.”

  ***

  Reed wiped sweat from his brow, grumbling under his breath. “This is ridiculous. I could be fishing right now.”

  “Rock,” Rock replied, his shovel moving steadily.

  Flint paused, leaning on his shovel. “I can’t believe Fern didn’t come with the others. I was really hoping to see her.”

  “Cheer up, buddy,” Clay said, sitting on a nearby stump. “I’m sure she wanted to come.” He watched the others work, unable to help due to his missing limb. Despite that, he seemed content just being part of the group. Holly sat next to him, also not participating in the work, but rather, overseeing it.

  Reed and Rock exchanged a knowing glance before Reed spoke up. “Flint, there’s more to life than girls.”

  Holly let out a sneer. “You only say that because Maple’s never said a single word to you. Ever.”

  “Rock,” Rock muttered, attempting to come to Reed’s defense, but Reed’s face had already turned bright red.

  “It’s true, though. Maple’s never even spoken to him,” Holly continued, her mock sympathy making Reed’s face burn even brighter. “Centuries of infatuation, not a single word.”

  Without warning, Reed threw down his shovel, and in an instant, shifted into his animal form, a great wolf. Holly smirked and shifted into hers as well, a mountain lion.

  Finn and Woods watched the scene unfold from the well, fully aware of the standoff brewing between the two sprites. Neither moved to intervene, even as the situation escalated.

  “So, when do we step in?” Finn asked, crossing his arms.

  Woods shrugged, pulling a spare shovel from his bag. “I’m trying this new thing—it’s called ‘free-range parenting,’” he said dryly, glancing at the two figures circling each other in the dirt. “Though, at this rate, they’ll never finish the new field.”

  He handed the shovel to Finn, who shot him a withering look.

  Woods grinned. “Hey, someone’s going to have to take them both to Dr. Night when this is over, and someone’s got to help the rest of the team finish digging.”

  Finn stared at the shovel in his hands, clearly weighing his options. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he nodded.

  The brothers turned back to watch Reed and Holly go at it, fur and claws flying. Despite their brawl, the two seemed evenly matched—Reed’s brute strength countered by Holly’s agility. Neither one was giving up anytime soon.

  “If only they channeled that much energy into digging the new field, Matt’s farm would be at level ten by now.” Woods commented off-handedly.

  “When do you think he’ll get back?” Finn asked. Woods shrugged. “Hopefully soon. For the sake of Etheria, hopefully soon.”