“So, you’re telling me on Earth there’s four turtles, and one rat—”

“Crime-fighting turtles and their rat sensei, yes,” I interrupted.

Clay knit his eyebrows together. “And they fight against a human named Shredder?”

I nodded and continued to work on the hole I was digging.

“Rock,” Rock said. I glanced at Clay for translation, who wore a quizzical look on his face.

“Rock has a point. Have you ever met a turtle? They’re not exactly the fighting type. Well, unless we’re talking about snapping turtles. And that’s only if you make them mad.” His eyes widened as if he were recalling a particular memory.

I chuckled. “The turtles became that way after they were covered in radioactive ooze. Lots of the bad guys they fight are mutated animals too, just like them.

“Rock.”

I sighed, waiting for the translation from Clay.

“Maybe if the turtles and the rat teamed up, they could take down a human. How powerful is this Shredder guy, anyway? Is he a wizard?”

I paused, wondering if I’d chosen the wrong story to tell Rock and Clay this morning. I’d thought they’d eat it up, but my favorite childhood cartoon had left them puzzled, even borderline disturbed. “Look, all I’m saying is you guys are kind of like these turtles. They each wear a different color, and they’re each super powerful in their own way.” I pointed to Clay’s staff strapped across his back. “One of them uses a staff, and another one wears an orange mask, kind of like your hat, Clay.”

“Rock.”

“Rock says it sounds kind of dorky.”

I shot Rock a glare, and he gave me a smug smile. Pint-sized punk. I should have never taught them that word. “Look, this is a very cool thing from my world. It’s not dorky. You guys should be flattered I’m comparing you to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Really, I think all of you would be super into it if you watched the show.”

There was a long pause before Clay finally spoke up again, his expression still confused. “What made them mutants, again?”

“The radioactive ooze.”

“Rock?” Rock asked, and Clay quickly followed with, “The ooze didn’t hurt them?”

I shook my head. “No, it gave them super awesome ninja powers.”

Clay gave me a long look, as if weighing my words. “Your world sounds so strange, Matt,” he said at length.

I shrugged. “Maybe you guys would be more into Power Rangers. They’re also color-coordinated crime fighters.”

Clay, Rock, and I had been working on the orchard since the early hours of the day. The plan was to get at least half the seeds planted in the cool morning hours. Applepeach seeds had to be buried deep in the ground, and packed over with dirt to ensure they’d grow strong enough roots to survive the colder seasons.

Clay had visited Dr. Night’s clinic last night to check on his arm. It was no longer in a sling, but was instead bandaged, the sterile white linen tied in a knot where the limb stopped at the elbow. Clay shook his head, shifting the conversation. “How did your date last night go?”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly going dry. “It was fine. She’s nice and all, I just…” I sighed, hefting my shovel over my shoulder as I looked over the stretch of turned soil. “I just can’t get past the beard.” Rebekah had been sweet, and was to my surprise, very dainty for a dwarf, but I just wasn’t into dwarven women. Or their abundance of facial hair.

“Is it because you can’t grow a beard?” Clay asked.

Rock chuckled.

I shot the sprites a reproachful look. I knew Clay didn’t mean to be hurtful, but my pride was a tender thing. “What do you mean I can’t grow a beard? What do you call this?” I motioned to my three-day stubble, and Clay and Rock exchanged dubious glances.

“Yeah,” Clay said. “I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess? Y’know, I've never seen any sprite grow a beard before. Not Woods, Finn, Reed, Flint… not even you, Rock.”

“Rock.”

I didn’t ask for translation from Clay, who chuckled at whatever Rock had said. Based on his tone, Rock was probably just teasing me. Instead, I thrust my shovel into the dirt, deciding to drop the subject. Truth was, even well into my twenties, I still couldn’t grow a proper beard. The fact rankled me, and I clung to the hope that one day, I would be able to grow a magnificent beard that would put even a dwarf to shame.

Clay was silent for a few moments. Finally, he spoke up, changing topics once again. “Is Woods getting any better?”

I blinked, pausing in my work. Yesterday, Woods seemed to turn a corner. As far as I knew, he was still asleep, but the aura that had come back was stronger. It seemed like an echo of the old Woods. “You know what? Yesterday, he seemed almost better.” Clay’s eyes widened at this, and a hopeful smile crossed his face as I continued, “I’m going to go visit him today, and I think we’re going to try giving him a mana potion so he can change back into a sprite. We’ll see though. I wouldn’t get my hopes up just in case.”

I got to work planting seeds in the orchard. Applepeaches were known to grow fast, and I was hoping to have a harvest by the end of summer. I placed each seed into its own deep hole, and shoveled dirt over the top. Rock then stamped over the soft dirt, making sure it was hard packed before moving on to the next seed.

“Can I come with you to visit Woods today?” Clay asked, breaking the ensuing silence.

Rock turned to look at me, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Rock was a lot older than Clay, and he’d visited Woods a few times. I thought it through for a few seconds before replying. “Not today, buddy. Maybe next time though.” Even if it hadn’t been for Rock’s input, I still wouldn’t have let Clay come with me.

Clay’s shoulders slumped, and Rock returned to stamping over a newly planted seed. Right now, it was too dangerous to risk anyone being too close when we gave Woods the mana potion, especially the youngest sprite. Clay was the only one who bore physical scars from Woods’ corruption, and I knew that was already going to be extremely difficult for Woods to come to terms with. I wonder if he’ll remember anything from when he was corrupted? Would he be angry that we’d kept him basically prisoner on the farm? Who would he be angrier with, me or Finn? A shiver passed through me. Hopefully Finn.

I looked at Clay’s missing arm again. Clay had asked me to keep it from Woods, but that was impossible with such a visible wound. He’d find out eventually if he didn’t already remember what had happened. How do you break something like that to someone? I swallowed hard. Regardless, it was going to be an interesting afternoon.

As I started digging another hole, my thoughts shifted back to my date with Rebekah, the dwarven woman. It had gone well enough, but there was something about it that had just felt off, and it wasn’t her pronounced facial hair. As I dug deeper, I sifted through the mess of emotions and thoughts I’d actively been ignoring the past few days.

Going on that date had felt like an unspoken betrayal, but deep down, I knew that couldn’t be true. Leia had left Sagewood almost an entire season ago, leaving behind a void that seemed impossible to fill. It was time to acknowledge the harsh truth: I hadn’t meant as much to her as she’d meant to me.

After the hole was deep enough, I grabbed one of the applepeach tree seeds, and in an instant, I was transported back to the memories of Leia and me diligently replanting the section of the forest I had inadvertently set ablaze the previous fall. My gaze wandered toward the thriving forest. The trees we had planted together were now standing tall and robust, their roots deeply embedded in the rich, ashy soil. They were a little over my height now, having grown significantly over the fall and winter seasons. Idly, I wondered if that was just how fast trees grew in this world, of if there was some other magic at play.

Another sigh escaped me, heavier this time. How could I continue to live on this farm when I was reminded of her so often? Unceremoniously, I tossed the seed into the hole and began covering it with soil. Clay and Rock watched me with inquisitive eyes, but remained silent as I worked.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

The truth was becoming increasingly evident. Each passing day brought me closer to a decision I had been quietly contemplating—a return to Earth, my real home. The agony of staying here was becoming unbearable, especially when I was reminded so often of Leia’s absence. Despite the enchanting magic, the sprites, and the nature spirits of this fantastical realm, I was still an outsider. There had been one person who had made this transition bearable, and she’d left.

She was never coming back.

With a newfound resolve, I sealed my decision as I buried the seed. After my spring projects were finished, I’d focus on finding the last reagent for the traveler’s spell. I would fulfill my commitment to leveling the farm up to level ten, just as I had promised Woods. Then, I would leave. I’d slip back into the mundane familiarity of my old life in Phoenix and attempt to bury the memories of my time here in Sagewood. Hopefully, in time, I would forget about her.

I was abruptly pulled out of my thoughts when words appeared before me, shimmering into existence, letting me know I had once again levelled up. I eagerly read them, slightly surprised I had levelled so quickly. It hadn’t been very long since I’d reached level five, but I’d also thrown myself into chores. Apparently, working from sunup to sundown with no breaks had racked up the experience.

Level up!

Congratulations! Your farm has reached level 6.

You have been given the farming perk: Crop Mutation. This ability allows the farmer to experiment with local magic sources to affect crop quality and yield. By infusing seeds with magic, you can yield unique, valuable plants with special properties or appearances.

I blinked, taken aback by the interesting perk. Crop mutation? That sounded promising. But what exactly did that mean? A second message appeared, pulling me from my thoughts.

You have reached the levelling limit for a single farmer. You will not be able to advance to level 7 until you have reached the threshold: Happily Married.

Experience gained until then will be banked.

“What the?” I read through the second half of the message again. All the excitement of advancing instantly fizzled as I read the words over and over again. It couldn’t possibly mean what I thought it meant.

Clay shot me a puzzled look. “Is everything all right, Matt?”

Rock, pausing in his work, glanced up at me curiously.

I nodded absentmindedly as I blinked away the message. I understood what it said, but I couldn’t quite comprehend it. This was some sort of joke, right? Happily married? How could this possibly be a levelling requirement? After I had just made up my mind to return home to Phoenix?

I needed to talk about this with someone, but my options were limited. Woods remained corrupted, Finn had proven unhelpful since arriving at the farm, and Reed was already burdened with leadership responsibilities. Rock and I had a language barrier, and he’d probably just tease me about it anyway. Flint and Clay were too young. My mind raced through other potential confidants, finally settling on Melvin. He might not be the ideal choice, but as a wizard, he could have valuable insights. Perhaps it was a stroke of luck that he happened to be visiting Sagewood. Maybe he knew of a loophole to this absurd leveling requirement.

I leaned heavily on my shovel. The only person I’d ever considered marrying was long gone, and marrying someone solely for the purpose of reaching level ten was definitely wrong. Doing that just to gain experience, and then pulling off an interdimensional disappearing act? It wouldn’t make me the best husband. I felt my eyebrows rise. Although it probably wouldn’t make me the worst if I left whomever it was with a thriving farm.

Sighing, I swept the farm with my magical sense and couldn’t find the wizard anywhere. He was probably back at the Sagewood Inn.

I decided to turn back to my work. There was no point in worrying about it now.

***

Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I strolled over to the metal spigot fashioned by the Cave Spirit. I’d described the project in detail to the River Spirit, and she assured me they could complete it while I was on my date. Both she and the Cave Spirit had joined forces to lay metal pipes beneath the orchard, connecting them to the water in my well. This spigot, it seemed, was the master switch for the entire system.

With a slow twist, I adjusted the nozzle, and we all observed as water began bubbling up from various points across the orchard. Another twist, and the water turned into a spray, thoroughly soaking the freshly planted seeds.

“Hmm, it’s like sprinklers,” I remarked casually. “That’s a nice touch.”

Rock and Clay watched in amazement, captivated by the watery display.

Once the soil was sufficiently saturated, I turned the nozzle in the opposite direction, causing the jets to dwindle and finally disappear.

Clay’s eyes shone with excitement as he turned to me. “Matt, do you realize how much mud we could make with these things?”

Rock nodded in agreement, clearly impressed.

I chuckled. It was impressive, especially since the details I’d shared with the River Spirit hadn’t included the spraying water. She, along with the Cave Spirit, had executed it even better than I had imagined.

Glancing at the other fields, I contemplated replicating this irrigation system after I harvested this batch of plants. It would require a thorough search of the cave to get enough metal ore, as this project had used up every piece I’d collected over the winter.

“Maybe for the next sprite birthday, we’ll let the sprinklers run a little longer. We just have to make sure it doesn’t affect the growth of the applepeach trees.” I frowned as I attempted to recollect the sprites’ birthdays. With so many of them residing on my farm, it was a challenge to remember each one.

Clay and Rock exchanged mischievous glances. “Reed’s birthday is in two days,” Clay said as if reading my thoughts.

I hadn’t expected one to be so soon. I turned to both sprites, both of whom were eyeing the spigot with wicked grins on their faces.

“All right, but in the meantime, I’m the only one who controls the water. I don’t want either of you to accidentally flood the farm.”

“We can do that?” Clay asked, never tearing his eyes away from the gleaming spigot.

“No,” I said, exasperated. “I’m telling you right now that you can’t.”

“Rock,” Rock said, shrugging. I didn’t like the glint in his eyes. With that, both sprites retreated to the northern forest.

Oh boy. Talk about unintended consequences. I could probably expect my farm to be flooded in the next few days. My main concern was whether the freshly planted seeds could withstand the impending deluge.

I gazed up at the late morning sun. We were in the tricky part of spring. During the first few weeks of the season, traces of winter still lingered in the early mornings and evenings, while the sun radiated warmth throughout the midday hours. Right now, it was hot—hotter than it had been in a while. Hot enough that a little extra water probably wouldn’t hurt the seeds. Still, I turned to the spigot and gave it a vigorous twist, making it nearly impossible for any sprites to turn it on without considerable effort. I hoped that this measure would serve as an effective deterrent to Clay and Rock.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I looked across the freshly planted orchard and pulled up the levelling message again, along with its ridiculous threshold. I read the words ‘happily married’ repeatedly. My shoulders sank, the weight of the impossible settling on them.

***

“Reed! Look what I found!” Holly excitedly held up her prize, a tiny lizard that was wriggling wildly from side to side as it tried to free itself from her grasp. Reed was sitting on the bank of the river, fishing, like he always did. Without turning around to look, he gave Holly an absentminded thumbs up.

“Very nice, Holly. Great job.” He said the words flatly and slowly reeled in his fishing line.

Holly huffed. Lately, everyone had been so absorbed in their own little worlds, they seemed to have forgotten about her. She didn’t like being ignored.

Without hesitation, Holly dropped the flailing lizard into the collar of Reed’s shirt. She turned on her heel, leaving him on the riverbank, screaming wildly as he tried to get the lizard out.

Holly checked the chicken coop for Clay, but he wasn’t in there. He was probably off doing stupid boy sprite things with Flint. She checked the barn for Ivy, but she was also gone, probably off somewhere with Rock, doing… whatever Ivy and Rock did together in all that time they spent alone. Holly grimaced.

She climbed to the top of the hayloft, propping her face in her hands as she swung her feet over the edge. “This farm is so boring. There’s nothing to do!” She sighed as she laid back on the wooden floor of the loft.

She laid there for several quiet moments—the only sounds were Bessie and Goldie munching on their alfalfa lunch below. A few flies buzzed around lazily, irking her with their melodic humming.

She rose, going back to stare out the loft window and hoping to spot another sprite. Any other sprite. To her surprise, she did, though it wasn’t any of the sprites she was used to. This sprite was new, someone she’d never seen before on the farm. He looked strikingly like Clay, with his white hair and tan skin. He wore a gray hat like Flint, though it was lighter, more washed out. He also carried more weapons than Holly was used to seeing. An axe was strapped across his back, and several tiny trinkets and baubles layered his waistband. She narrowed her eyes at the newcomer when it clicked.

It was the male southern sprite. Not the leader, but the other one that appeared to be around her age. What was he doing here, on this boring farm? She couldn’t fathom why the southern sprites had decided to come northward. In the south, they had long expanses of fields filled with bushy, white flowers and long stretches of pink sand beaches. The southern territory bordered the ocean. In the north, they had forests and farms and… that was about it. It was so boring up here.

Holly watched curiously as he poked around some trees, seemingly trying to stay out of sight, though there was no one else around. He shifted into his animal form, a scruffy dog-looking animal.

Holly snorted. A dog? That’s cute. Ivy and Reed seemed bothered by the southern sprites, but Holly couldn’t understand why. The southern sprites seemed like a joke to her, lesser sprites with lesser powers than her family. Her animal form could easily best a dog any day. Heck, Flint’s animal form could probably best a dog any day. She thought of Clay’s animal form, deciding after a few minutes that Clay could also hold his own against the dog, even with his missing wing. The southern sprites just weren’t as powerful, and they never would be.

She watched as the sprite searched around the farm in his animal form, sniffing various trees and boulders. I wonder what he’s looking for, she thought. Holly kept watching him, her boredom momentarily forgotten.

He continued moving south of the farm, until he eventually disappeared into a thicket of trees.

Holly strained to see him from the window of the loft, but he was gone, having disappeared southward. She didn’t know what he was looking for, but he surely wouldn’t find it. There wasn’t anything of importance or relevance. There were only a few dusty chickens and a couple stinky farm animals.

Holly huffed again, annoyed at how slowly the day was passing. She’d have to find something else to occupy her time. Maybe she could find another lizard and put it in one of Matt’s work boots?