As I strode down the dirt path into town, I couldn’t help but notice the transformation that had swept through the village that surrounded the heart of Sagewood. The landscape had shifted dramatically since my arrival in this enchanting world, and with the once-corrupt foliage now budding with the promise of spring, it had imbued the town with a newfound sense of vitality. Pots brimming with cheery flowers adorned the walkways, and the diligent efforts of the townsfolk had lent a tidiness to their properties. It was as if the cleansing of corruption from the nearby forest had inspired the residents to take greater pride in their homes. Several buildings had undergone extensive repairs, likely with the assistance of Rowan and Renna, while many houses flaunted new coats of paint. Even though it was still the beginning of spring, Sagewood looked like a quaint town full of character. It barely resembled the dingy place I’d stumbled into a year prior.
My journey took me to the far side of town, where Otis’ ranch sprawled across the landscape. Animals of all kinds grazed in the pastures, not bothering to look up as I walked by.
Otis, a cherished friend and a close confidant of my late grandpa, had been a steadfast source of support since my arrival in this world. His generosity had known no bounds, and I had high hopes that today he would prove to be a wellspring of assistance once more. I was there to buy another animal so Bessie wouldn’t be lonely. Luckily, I’d sold enough gems in my dropbox this winter to have spending money, and although I wasn’t rich by any means, I believed I had enough to make a purchase.
I eventually located him amidst the muddy fields, diligently tending to one of his cows.
“Otis!” I called out warmly, and he turned to wave at me, a smile cracking his sun-weathered face. His pasture was teeming with an array of livestock, and I hoped that he’d be willing to part with at least one of the animals today. I cleared my throat. “It's been a while—I hope you’re doing well.”
Otis grunted appreciatively. “Did Rowan finally convince you to get a dwarven milking cow, then?”
I hesitated for a moment, taken aback by his keen perception. His chuckle was a warm, familiar sound as he turned away from the cow to face me fully. “Rowan’s been in my ear about those dwarven milk cows for years now. Something about their cheese, I reckon. Dwarves go crazy for it. Though, I hear they’re a handful with all that unruly hair.”
I nodded in agreement. The thick coat of hair on Bessie had certainly been a challenge, but Ivy and Holly had diligently brushed and braided it, making it more manageable. “You’re right about that, Otis. Rowan mentioned that I should consider expanding my herd. I was wondering if you might be willing to sell me some of your animals.”
Otis’ gaze wandered over his pasture, where cows and goats lazily grazed in the afternoon sun. “Well, I do have a few goats that are just about to kid. I could sell you one of them. That way, you’d have fresh milk and, if you’re lucky, maybe two bonus goats if the one you buy has twins.”
The idea of bringing a pregnant goat onto my farm made me feel a bit squeamish, but I considered it, nonetheless. Could I handle something like that? Could the sprites? I shuddered. “Anything else? Perhaps an animal that’s not expecting?” Having an animal give birth on my property might bring up some conversations I wasn’t ready to have, especially with the younger sprites. Plus, I wasn’t ready to be a bystander in something like that. I’d have no idea what to do.
Otis chuckled heartily and nodded toward a distant part of his property. “I’ve got a handful of horses in my back pasture.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. A horse? I’d never considered it, but that might be extremely useful, especially considering it had taken me almost an hour to reach Otis’ ranch by foot.
“Could you show me?”
Otis grunted, waving for me to follow. I followed him across the spans of fields, our boots squelching in the slippery mud.
“Have you ever ridden a horse, son?”
Recalling my life before I arrived here, I thought about all the movies I had watched where people effortlessly rode horses, making it seem like the horses did all the work. “No, I haven’t. But it doesn’t seem very complicated. I just sort of sit there, right?”
Otis snorted softly. “Let’s get you set up with a nice, well-mannered mare, then.”
“Not a stallion?”
Otis shook his head. “Maybe next year. But for now, you’ve got to get the basics down.” We stopped just outside a fence that corralled a herd of horses, and Otis continued. “Besides, if it’s companionship for a cow, you want a horse with a cooperative disposition.”
He let out a sharp whistle, and the horses responded eagerly, trotting over with joyful neighs as if they couldn't wait to greet Otis. The horses displayed a striking range of colors, from a snowy white speckled with black to a rich, deep red and a warm chestnut brown. Amidst the vibrant equine display, my gaze settled on a horse with a lustrous golden coat and a flowing, white mane.
“Wow, that one's gorgeous,” I found myself saying.
Otis nodded, extending his hand toward the honey-colored horse, which moved closer to his touch.
“She’d be a suitable choice for you. Patient and sociable. Her name’s Goldie, though you can always change it, if you want.”
I looked into the horse’s intelligent eyes, their dark hue a striking contrast against her light-colored coat. A wave of nervousness washed over me. “Could you… teach me how to ride her?”
Otis agreed. “I don’t have an extra saddle or bridle, but you can order those from the general store. For now, you'll need to learn to ride bareback.”
I nodded, and Otis led the way under the fence into the pasture. After waiting a moment to gather my courage, I followed. Otis clipped some sort of simple harness around the horse’s head, a task that didn't appear to faze the animal in the slightest. He then fastened a rope to the lower part of the harness, using it to keep the horse steady. He turned to me, a patient look in his eyes and an expectant grin on his face.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, then stepped up to the horse. The first attempt went predictably, and I ended up in the mud with Otis chuckling. Goldie was indeed patient, but I was undeniably inexperienced, and Otis had neglected to mention that I needed to hold on. Though I probably should’ve known that.
“Give it another try, son. And this time, hold onto her mane. I’ll hand you this rope” He furrowed his brow slightly, then added, “The mane is the strip of hair running down the back of her neck.”
I got back on my feet, brushed off as much mud as I could, and approached the horse again. She stood calmly, ready for a second attempt. This time, things went much more smoothly. Otis handed me the rope, and I clung onto the horse’s mane, my knuckles turning white.
“Use your feet to gently guide her in the direction you want her to go,” Otis instructed.
I followed his guidance, surprised when the horse responded to the subtle nudges from my ankles against her sides. We strolled around the pasture, while the other horses observed us with curiosity.
Otis nodded in approval, and I dismounted, albeit without much grace.
“She’s a perfect match for you, son. I'll offer her to you for a reasonable price—" Otis began.
I raised my hand, signaling for him to pause, and he quirked an eyebrow in response.
“Otis, you’ve done so much for me. You’ve been there for me since day one, and I’d genuinely appreciate it if you overcharged me for her.”
A smile crept across Otis’ face. “Just like your granddad,” he remarked after a brief chuckle. “All right then, how about two hundred etherchips?”
I narrowed my eyes at the leathered rancher. There was no way that was enough for a horse, even if he had a whole herd of them. Sliding off the horse, I shook my head. “Five hundred, take it or leave it.”
Stolen novel; please report.
Otis snorted and extended his hand toward me. “You've got yourself a deal, kiddo. I’ll let you keep the harness and rope as well, though don’t keep those on her all the time.” Otis scratched his chin, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Horses will mostly graze, but I reckon your pastures look a lot like mine, so you’ll need to pick up some dry alfalfa for her at the general store.”
I shook his hand and reached into my bag for my pouch of coins. My winter work in the mine had sufficiently padded my savings, and I was willing to give the old man more than his asking price. While I handed over the coins, I couldn’t help but feel that, even with the increased cost, I was still getting the better end of the deal, given everything he had done for me.
“Do you need anything else, Matt?” Otis asked, giving Goldie a friendly pat on the neck.
“Not at the moment, but I might be back to purchase another animal at some point. Maybe another cow. Do you have any available for sale?" I asked.
Otis frowned. “The cows I raise are primarily for meat, but I can order a dairy cow for you. It'll take about half a season for it to arrive. Is that all right?”
I nodded in agreement, then ungracefully clambered back onto Goldie.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Otis assured me while smiling wryly. He opened the pasture gate, which allowed me to exit with my new horse.
I thanked the old man and set off in the direction I had come from. Goldie moved with a melodic grace down the familiar dirt roads of Sagewood, her hooves plodding rhythmically along. Admittedly, I found this method of travel to be much more pleasant than walking, even if I was still an inexperienced rider.
Otis had wisely recommended a calm horse, a choice that paid off as we navigated through the bustling heart of Sagewood. The town was alive with activity, and the cacophony of voices and movements might have unsettled a more excitable horse. But Goldie remained composed throughout the journey.
We made a brief stop at Sagewood’s general store, where a convenient post provided a spot to secure Goldie while I ventured inside. There, I purchased some dry alfalfa and an additional bag of chicken feed.
“Is that your new horse?” Ronny asked curiously, his gaze extending beyond me as he rang up my purchases.
“Yep, just picked her up today.”
“Congratulations. You’re becoming more of a farmer with each passing season,” Ronny said as I handed over the etherchips.
I let out a somewhat strained chuckle as I packed the animal feed into my bag, unsure of how I felt about the sentiment.
Back outside, I tried to mount Goldie with as much grace as possible, but I was pretty sure I still made a fool of myself in front of the observing villagers. In no time, we reached the farm.
Although I couldn't sense the presence of any sprites nearby, I knew their insatiable curiosity would draw them to the farm soon to inspect the newest addition.
I dismounted, grateful no one was around to see it, and led Goldie into the barn. A welcoming moo from Bessie greeted us as I led the horse to her stall, and a curious exchange of glances ensued between the two animals. I hoped that Otis was right, and these two would get along. I already had my hands full with the occasional squabbles among the sprites. I took off Goldie’s harness and rope, stowing it in my bag.
With the sun descending in the sky, I embarked on the evening chores. Milking Bessie was becoming more natural to me, although it still sometimes struck me as strange. A year ago, when I’d stumbled into this life, I never saw myself milking a cow.
I ensured that all the animals had ample food and fresh water, then I grabbed my watering can, still needing to do the nightly dousing of my crops.
My muscles ached with exhaustion when I finished, but any weariness faded when I heard a cheerful commotion coming from the barn.
I peered inside and a smile spread across my face as I saw some sprites gathered outside of Goldie’s stall.
“You got a horse?” Holly exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.
I chuckled and nodded. “It looks that way.”
“Can we ride it?” Clay asked, his eyes shining with anticipation.
I shrugged, retrieving the harness and rope. Some daylight remained, and I knew the sprites would be too excited to go to sleep unless we burned off a little energy beforehand.
“This is Goldie, she’s a girl horse.” I stepped inside the stall and draped the harness around the horse’s face.
Holly and Ivy cheered.
“Good,” Holly said as she scrambled onto Goldie’s back, “We needed another girl around here to balance out all these boys.”
The sprites eagerly climbed onto her back, and I led her out to pasture. She didn’t seem to mind the abundance of riders, as they were all so small.
I did notice, however, that Flint was conspicuously absent. I couldn’t help but wonder if his allergies were still bothering him. Maple was missing too, but she typically stayed in the kitchen, experimenting with different ingredients. Rock was absent as well, his whereabouts and how he spent his free time a mystery to me. Ivy, Holly, Clay and Reed had a great time riding Goldie, though.
After leading the horse around for a while and working up a sweat, I brought her back into the barn. The sprites all chattered excitedly amongst themselves, and I retired to my farmhouse.
***
I sank wearily into a chair at my kitchen table, feeling every muscle in my body scream with exhaustion. After the chores and excitement of the day, I was beat. Maple gave me a small smile from her perch on my kitchen counter. Her sympathetic eyes met mine as she patiently waited for something to finish baking in the oven.
“Maple,” I sighed, my voice tinged with fatigue as I ran my hand through my grimy, sweat-soaked hair, “I miss Woods.”
She nodded, her silent support a soothing presence amid my exhaustion.
“I remember last spring, when I thought I was tired,” I mused, my gaze drifting to the southern horizon beyond the window, where the sun was slowly setting. “But this... this is a whole new level of exhaustion. Without Woods,” I added with a tinge of sadness, “I’m just sort of guessing at everything. I barely even know what I’m doing.”
Maple nodded again, her gaze lowering to the ground. Among all the sprites, I’d found that Maple was the most attentive listener, and it wasn’t solely due to her permanent silence. She had a remarkable capacity to sit patiently and listen to me air my grievances. Even though she never voiced any solutions or advice, I always found myself feeling remarkably better after our one-sided conversations. I felt bad bringing up Woods in front of her, but I didn’t have anyone else to talk to. For some reason, I felt that she was the most understanding person on my farm.
After a moment of silence, Maple hopped off the counter and grabbed the handle of the oven. She had to use all her weight to open it and peer inside before shutting it again. Whatever was within wasn’t quite finished baking yet.
The tantalizing scents of vanilla and citrus filled the air, making my stomach grumble.
“What are you making?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. Instead of taking her place on the counter, she joined me at the kitchen table. From her bag, she retrieved the tiniest recipe book I’d ever seen and laid it out between us.
The recipe depicted mouthwatering pastries resembling cinnamon rolls, generously slathered in creamy frosting. Although the text was in a language I couldn’t decipher, the layout felt familiar, listing ingredients and instructions in a format that transcended language barriers.
“Those look delicious.” The aroma of the sweet rolls now filled the entire kitchen. Maple gently closed the recipe book and returned it to her bag. She remained seated beside me at the table, her gaze expectant, as if silently urging me to continue my venting. With a chuckle, I obliged.
“I know I’ll get through it. It’s just a lot of… growing pains, I guess.” I stretched my arms over my head, trying to alleviate the dull ache in my back that had grown persistent these past few days. “All these responsibilities… we’ll figure them out together. That’s what family’s for, right?”
I continued for several minutes, listing out my various plans around the farm. It felt good getting it all out in the open instead of keeping it locked in my head all day. After I finished talking, Maple returned to the oven and pulled it open once again.
“Here, let me help you.” I stood and swiftly donned a pair of oven mitts that were conveniently placed by the stove, then carefully slid the glass tray out of the oven, placing it gingerly on the counter. The pastries boasted beautifully twisted, delicate swirls of bread. However, the filling wasn’t cinnamon, but a combination of caramelized vanilla and zested citrus that promised an exquisite flavor.
Maple beamed a thankful smile in my direction and began to whip up a bowl of frosting. In a matter of minutes, the rolls had cooled sufficiently, and with a skilled hand, Maple generously slathered them with the luscious frosting. She plated one for me, and I accepted it with genuine gratitude, the aroma of the sweet treats enveloping me like a comforting embrace.
It didn’t take long for the rest of the sprites to gather in the cozy kitchen, each of them soon savoring a delightful plate of their own.
“This would go great with some of Bessie’s milk,” Clay suggested.
The other sprites nodded eagerly in agreement.
“All right, could you go get some from the—" I began, but Clay had already darted out the door before I could complete my sentence.
“I’ll go help him. He can’t manage those milk bottles on his own,” Reed chimed in, following Clay’s swift exit.
Holly, meanwhile, cast a scrutinizing gaze in my direction and asked, “What happens to you if you drink milk? Does it poison you?”
I cleared my throat, my voice hesitant. “Sort of. In a way.”
“Are you allergic to it?” Flint asked, his eyes still bearing a hint of red behind his glasses.
“Yes, but it doesn’t make me sneeze or anything.” I heaved a sigh, not inclined to delve further into the topic.
Thankfully, Clay and Reed soon reappeared, bearing two bottles of creamy milk, and each sprite eagerly poured themselves a generous portion. I couldn’t help but sigh once more, my taste buds yearning for the milk’s perfect companionship with the delectable pastries.
Surveying the gathering around the table, I noticed the conspicuous absence of one sprite.
“Where’s Finn?” I asked, prompting the sprites to briefly scan the room before resuming their focus on their pastries.
“Last I saw, he was heading south with Melvin,” Reed replied nonchalantly, then devoured another pastry.
“Again?”
Reed simply shrugged, and my mind registered the fact that Melvin and Finn had been venturing southward almost daily this week. What were they up to down there? I made a mental note to inquire the next time I crossed paths with either of them.
Woods’ magical aura had grown weaker and weaker, and I could barely sense it when I reached out with my magical senses. It was apparent that he had mere days left. I glanced around the table at the gathered sprites, a wave of sadness washing over me. They all seemed so happy right now. Sometime in the next week, Woods was going to die. Would it send them all spiraling again like they’d done through the winter season?
I swallowed hard and glanced down at my half-eaten treat. Suddenly, I wasn’t very hungry.