The knot that permanently plagued Finn’s stomach grew as they neared the grove where Woods was imprisoned. Living on the farm was undeniably challenging but venturing south was the absolute worst, and he made every effort to steer clear whenever he could.

Seeing his brother like this, hovering on the edge of death while inflicted with corruption sickness, was almost too much for him to bear. Since the autumn season, Woods’ magical aura had gone from its familiar stoic, walled off presence to an irate, feral aura, to nothing but a weak pulse. Finn swallowed hard, his stomach churning as he registered the fading, sickly emanation. It was his fault Woods was still suffering. He could’ve put Woods out of his misery long ago but knew he couldn’t actually bring himself to do it.

He averted his eyes as the wizard Melvin studied Woods from the safety of the trees. Woods was still confined in his prison of intertwined trunks and branches, thanks to the Forest Spirit, but it wasn’t necessary anymore. The bear spent most of his days sleeping, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Finn wiped his eyes, guilt flooding through him. Woods hadn’t ever asked Finn to do much, but the few times he did ask, Finn had let him down. He had asked Finn to keep his friends safe from him. Now, Clay would carry his arm in a sling the rest of his life because of Finn’s inability to fulfill his promise to his brother. Woods had asked him to end his life if he wasn’t able to reach the north. Now, he was a pitiful wretch—a shadow of his former self.

Finn looked up at his brother. Despite everything, he still felt he’d made the right choice in keeping him alive. If there was even a chance at life for him, Finn was willing to bet on it. As if reading his thoughts, Melvin spoke up.

“I know it’s hard for you to be here. His magical aura is so weak now, even compared to a few weeks ago when I last visited Sagewood.” The wizard turned to give Finn a solemn look. “It seems your brother is out of time.”

Finn nodded solemnly. Woods had mere days left, if that.

Melvin gave Finn a long look, as if assessing him. When the wizard finally spoke, his words were slow, as if carefully chosen. “Would you be willing to try something that’s never been done before if it had the slightest chance to save Woods?” The wizard’s voice had a tinge of scientific curiosity.

Finn exhaled slowly, running a hand through his unkempt, curly hair. “What did you have in mind?” he asked. Even though Melvin hadn’t given a reason for Finn to be worried, Finn was still wary of big people, especially wizards.

“Well, as you know, Matt’s grandfather, Bartholomew Miller, lived in this world for a few years. While he was here, he told me a lot about where he was from, a distant planet called Earth.” Melvin turned back to look through the trees at Woods before continuing. “On their world, medical knowledge is so far advanced, they can take a dying person, and infuse them with blood from a living person to make them well again.” Melvin cleared his throat, then turned to stare at Finn. “Bartholomew told me that sometimes, they can even take organs from a living person and place them in the body of a dying person—and the dying person eventually recovers from their ailment.”

Finn’s stomach lurched, a wave of nausea washing over him. He didn’t know a lot about the farmer, but if this were true, why would Matt ever return to such a barbaric world?

“They take organs from the living?” Finn asked, unable to hide the disgust in his voice. He didn’t like the direction the conversation was going.

“Well, Bart told me about something they call a kidney transplant. Apparently, a person only needs one kidney to function, and people usually have two. They can take one from a living person and save another close to death, keeping both people alive and healthy.” Melvin kept his eyes focused on Finn, as if to gauge his reaction. “They do the same thing with blood—they take it from a healthy person who has enough blood and can easily replenish their stores, and they put it into a dying person. It's called a transfusion. Apparently, this can give them a second chance at life.”

Finn paled, fully realizing what the wizard was suggesting. “You want to do something like this with me and Woods, don’t you?”

“In a way. Not organs or blood, but magic.” Melvin gave Finn an enthusiastic smile. “There are extremely limited studies on corruption sickness, but the few that exist conclude that corruption sickness feeds on the infected host’s magic, wearing them down until there’s nothing left. Because sprites are inherently high magic creatures, Woods was able to survive for an extended period of time, far beyond that of any infected animal ever observed.”

Finn reached out briefly with his magical senses before pulling back as if he’d touched a hot stove. To him, it seemed Woods had mere hours left, not days. Finn felt his eyes sting with tears but quickly blinked them away. “So… how exactly would that work, then? You’d just somehow take my magic? What effect would that have on me?”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Melvin pursed his lips before answering. “That, I can’t say. Mainly, because I don’t really know. Something like this has never been done before. You and I would be the first to attempt it. But I’m confident that, just like blood, eventually your magic stores would replenish themselves. You’re young and healthy enough that it most likely wouldn’t have a long-term effect on you.” Melvin turned to Finn before continuing. “But that’s not to say there wouldn’t be side effects to consider. You might not have the magical stores to turn into your animal form for a while, and it may affect your regeneration abilities for a time. Your aura would be affected as well.”

Finn swallowed hard. Those side effects didn’t seem terrible, especially if they were temporary. He looked up at his brother once more. Was there anything to lose at this point? If it didn’t work, Woods was already at death’s door anyway. Even if the chance it did work was slim, wouldn’t it be worth it to at least try? Finn chewed on his lip, thinking it over briefly before turning to Melvin.

“Have you talked this over with Matt?”

Melvin shook his head. “I don’t think he would approve something like this. Plus, we don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up if it doesn’t work.”

Finn nodded. That made sense. “All right, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

Melvin smiled and pulled a briefcase from thin air. “Perfect, I’ve already got all the tools we need—let’s begin right away. Your brother doesn’t have much time left.”

***

“You want me to make what?” The Cave Spirit asked, his raspy voice laced with disbelief.

“Pipes,” I replied. “Under the orchard. Well, what will hopefully soon be the orchard.”

His stony eyebrows raised, giving the nature spirit a comically confused look. “Made out of what, exactly?”

I reached into my bag and pulled out a shard of ore, one of many I’d collected over the winter season. “Metal. I have a bunch of it leftover, and I can always buy more if it’s not enough.”

The Cave Spirit eyed the shard skeptically. “Pipes, under the ground, made of metal. What’s the purpose?” he inquired.

I sighed, my patience wearing thin. Nature spirits were immensely powerful. They could harness nature magic to shape the world around them, and I knew this task wouldn’t be difficult for the Cave Spirit. For some reason though, the Cave Spirit couldn’t fathom the idea of irrigation. He seemed almost disturbed by it. “The pipes will carry water under the ground to the plants above the ground,” I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

The Cave Spirit continued to scrutinize me, his rocky features tense as he pondered my request.

“Is your watering can broken?” he asked after a lengthy pause.

“No,” I responded with a hint of frustration. Even after explaining the concept multiple times, the nature spirit remained baffled. The River Spirit had been so willing to help me, but her contingency was to convince the Cave Spirit to help as well. She must’ve known how dense he was, as I’d explained it to him several times now and he still had his reservations.

I took off my bag and reached inside, retrieving the cave stone. “Just think about it, all right? Honestly, I came here to place this. Running into you was... just an unexpected bonus, I suppose.”

The Cave Spirit’s rocky visage shifted from confusion to delight as he gazed at the stone. The cave stone was a rich hue of brown, and it glittered with many other colors as if possessing different types of gems within. It was a beautiful, multifaceted jewel that resembled the deepest parts of the cave that I’d explored.

“You found it! Wonderful. And your farm is level five, so you can finally place it.”

“Indeed,” I replied tersely. I stepped up to the marbled Harvest Goddess statue, holding the stone to the pedestal. It adhered in a bright flash of light, leaving only one empty slot for the last nature stone.

The forest stone.

Right now, it was in the hands of the Baron. I needed to somehow get it, but in order to place it, the farm had to be level ten. I was currently level five, well on my way there, but it had taken me an entire year to get to this point. Woods had been confident that after I awakened the Harvest Goddess, the magic of the land would finally be balanced, and everything would go back to normal. Corruption would no longer wreak havoc on the forest, twisting animals and blighting trees.

I stared up at the stony visage of the goddess. Could a single being be powerful enough to restore the balance? Could she possibly help Woods, who had been corrupted for the entire winter? My heart sank as I realized that, even if Woods lived another month, there was no way I could revive the goddess in time to save him. It would probably take me another year at least to get the farm to level ten, and I still wasn’t sure how we were going to obtain the forest stone.

The Cave Spirit’s glow faded to a warm orange, casting a soft light that gently illuminated the cave and pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. “I will assist you with your orchard project. Once the plot is prepared, I shall install the metal pipes beneath it,” he declared, turning to me with a hint of joy in his stony countenance. “Thank you for retrieving the cave stone. Now that it is placed, I am no longer bound to Sagewood, and can freely travel Etheria.” With those words, all the shards adorning his form tumbled to the ground, creating resonant echoes throughout the cavern.

“Freely travel? You couldn’t before?” I asked the empty cave. The spirit, of course, didn’t answer.

A shiver ran down my spine as I shifted my focus back to the statue, feeling an immense weight settle on my shoulders. I was a simple farmer. Barely a farmer, actually, and I had the Baron of Sagewood, as well as the entity Corruption against me. Reviving the goddess was something that needed to be done though, and as of right now, I was the only person that could do it. I sighed and turned to leave the cave.