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[Book 3] Chapter Three

Several work-filled days passed, and the forest transformed into a sea of fluffy blossoms. They ranged in color from soft pinks and purples to creamy whites. During this time, Flint had seemingly vanished, perhaps engrossed in his ‘special project’ or simply hiding from the new blooms that had spread throughout the forest. I felt bad that he appeared to be the sole casualty of seasonal allergies. Already, I’d completed the watering of both crop fields, a task that had taken the bulk of the morning. The crops would be done in about fifteen days, thanks to my new farming perk.

Finn, Clay, and I were sitting in the shade of a nearby tree, enjoying some of Maple’s freshly baked bread, when I heard footsteps crunching from the south. I craned my neck to see who it was without bothering to sit up, employing the aura sensing power I’d received at level four last season. While technically I could use this magical ability all the time, it was extremely tiring and often gave me a headache to track everyone’s whereabouts. So most of the time, I didn’t actively engage with the sense.

My eyes fell on Melvin, the wizard from Crimsonshores, and I recognized his magical aura at once. Every creature had a unique signature, but humans tended to be weaker than other, more magical beings like sprites. Still, Melvin’s aura was stronger than the average human’s. It felt like the warm, humid salt air of the beach. It was similar to Finn’s, which made me think that environment somehow played into how magical auras presented themselves.

“Hello Farmer Matt and his trusty sprite companions!” the wizard called out, waving at us and walking over quickly, his tattered robes swishing around his feet. I noticed that he was wearing his usual hideous shoes, the ones that resembled crocs from my own world.

Melvin looked across the planted field and let out a low whistle. “You three have been busy, I see.” He gave us all a knowing smile.

Eyeing the sprites, I chuckled dryly. I’d been busy. Clay and Finn had been busy watching. I offered Melvin a slice of my bread, which he took gratefully.

“It’s good to see that you’re making the most of your time while you’re here, Matt,” he said, giving me a pointed look.

“Might as well.”

“Well, that’s wonderful. This farm needs you, especially these next two seasons. I can already feel the magic shifting in the valley, waking up from a long slumber. No doubt these crops are already absorbing the excess magic throughout Sagewood.”

I drew my eyebrows together, trying to feel what the wizard was describing. Leveling the farm to had granted me a magical sensing perk, but my abilities weren’t honed yet. I could easily sense the people that were in the bounds of my property, but couldn’t detect the magic of the land itself. I wondered if a new perk would eventually grant me this power, or if I could somehow strengthen my sensing abilities.

“Are you a wizard?” Clay asked around a mouthful of bread. “How come I can’t sense your aura?”

Melvin gave the small sprite a smile. “Yes, I’m a wizard. My magic lets me sense other magical beings. As for my aura… it’s easy enough to cover up with magic.” Melvin crouched by the sprite, his eyes widening under his spectacles. “What happened to your arm, little one?”

Clay cradled his arm defensively, not willing to answer. Clay was extremely selective with whom he’d talk about his injury with, and only me, Finn, and Dr. Night knew the story in its entirety. Not even the other sprites knew that it was Woods who had inflicted the crippling wound. They didn’t really need to know, and while they were all concerned about the injury, they could tell that Clay didn’t want to talk about it. I’m sure some of them had put the pieces together, but no one pressed the issue.

I cleared my throat, drawing Melvin’s attention. “Just a run in with a corrupt monster is all,” I answered for him, and Finn gave me a sidelong glance.

Melvin’s eyes met mine, and I could tell that he wanted to ask more, but thankfully, he didn’t. “I’m sorry to hear about that,” he said at length.

“What brings you to my farm, Melvin?” I asked to break the uncomfortable silence.

“I was on my way back home to Crimsonshores. I’ve been travelling southward, procuring different spices for my next line of ready-made meals. Currently, I’m staying at the Sagewood Inn, but I thought I’d stop by and visit.”

Clay grimaced at the mention of the magic meals, his nose crinkling. “You make those things?”

I cleared my throat loudly and gave Clay a pointed look, hoping the sprite would take a hint. Luckily, Melvin didn’t seem to notice his obvious disgust.

“I do indeed make them,” he replied jovially. “You should come visit my observatory in Crimsonshores. I’ve got lots of new ideas brewing, and I’m always in need of a taste tester.”

Clay gave the wizard a long look before turning his shifty gaze to me, barely hiding his smile. He seemed like he was about to say something snarky but was silenced by a look from Finn. Strikingly, the look resembled Woods, making Clay do a double take before falling silent.

“We’ll visit once the planting season is over,” I assured the wizard. In reality, I hadn’t eaten many ready-made meals since the farmhouse kitchen had been completed and Maple had taken over kitchen duty. The sprite was a talented chef, and the meals made by the wizard were barely edible. I wasn’t about to tell Melvin that, though. I’d probably been his number one customer in Sagewood this past year.

Melvin turned to Finn. “Are you Woods’ brother? You bear a striking resemblance to him. Your name is Finnig—”

“Just Finn,” Finn cut in, his features darkening. Melvin must’ve possessed some magic sensing ability, like I did, that let him see the others’ names.

Finn sized up the wizard, his sour expression making him look even more like Woods. “I’m his brother. Why?”

“I’m wondering if you’d accompany me to visit him… just to observe and maybe run a few tests.”

We hadn’t been out to visit the corrupt bear in a couple of days, mostly because it bummed both of us out so much. He was watched over by the Forest Spirit, but lately, there hadn’t been much reason to go over there.

The sprite thought it over for a few seconds, narrowing his eyes at the wizard before eventually nodding. He then shoved the rest of his bread into his mouth and stood to begin the solemn walk southward.

Melvin waved to Clay and I and turned to follow.

Clay watched them go, then turned to me. “Could I go visit Woods sometime? You said he’s getting better, right?”

I choked as the bread I was eating went down the wrong way. After a fit of coughing, I shook my head.

“No, sorry, Clay. I need your help…” I looked around the farm, scrambling for what would take the small sprite’s mind off his friend for a few hours, “with clearing out the barn.” I had been meaning to sweep out the barn for a while now.

Clay sighed but nodded.

I glanced at his wounded arm and my heart sank. “You’re not scared of Woods? After what happened, I mean?”

Clay shook his head. “No. I’m not scared of him.” Clay’s gaze drifted southward. “Why would I be scared of one of my best friends?”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

My mouth went dry, but I managed to nod. I still wasn’t going to take him or any of the other sprites near Woods, but it was nice hearing that he didn’t hold anything against the corrupted sprite. I shivered, recalling the night when Woods had almost killed all of us. I was still haunted by the memory of Clay’s arm being ripped off, his bones snapping as easily as popsicle sticks under the grizzly’s unmatchable power. Shaking my head, I tried to dispel the violent image as my stomach began to churn.

“Let’s go. I need to have the barn ready for later today.”

Clay looked up at me, confused. “What’s later today?”

I smiled. “It’s a surprise. But I think you’re really going to love it.”

***

“Farmer Matt!” I recognized the heavy accent of Rowan the dwarf. He and his wife Renna owned a carpentry business, and together, they had rebuilt my house and barn. Rowan wasn’t here for carpentry work though. His words boomed across my farm, and when he came into view, he had a huge smile on his face. He was also leading a curious looking animal behind him. It had the build of a cow, but it was incredibly shaggy, like some unshorn sheep, or an extremely furry dog.

I was waiting just outside the barn, where all the sprites were gathered, hidden in the rafters. The sprites had sensed the dwarf’s aura coming down the path before he’d even called out. I felt my own eyebrows climb up my forehead as Rowan and the strange animal approached.

“This is a dwarven milk cow,” he explained. “A very rare and sturdy breed of cow, and very difficult to care for.” Rowan’s grin grew wider. “But you are capable, and this is a small price to pay for fresh dwarven cheese.”

The cow shook itself, which fluffed its shaggy brown hair even more. It had curved horns atop its head, both prongs as thick as my thigh, and it stood as tall as my chest. It mooed when Rowan brought it into the barn, sounding like a normal cow from back home. Not that I’d ever actually heard a cow in real life, but I knew generally what they sounded like.

“You’re giving him… to me?”

“It’s a her, actually,” Rowan corrected. “And yes. I’ve been hankering for fresh milk and cheese, but I don’t have the facilities to take care of such an animal. Consider this… an investment. I give you the cow, you feed her and shovel her dung, and I get a lifetime supply of dairy products! Hah!”

I was at a loss for words. “Wow. That… sounds like a good bargain to me.”

Rowan ran a gentle hand over the cow’s shoulder and grinned. “So, what do you think you’ll name her?”

I stared at the animal, my mind going blank. Its horns were bone white, and its nose, the only part that wasn’t covered in hair, was a soft pink. I squinted at her, and she sniffed me, mooing again.

“I don’t know,” I replied after a moment. “I’ve never named an animal before.” I hadn’t even named the chickens—Clay had named all twelve of them. I wouldn’t let him name the rooster, though. Once you named an animal, it made it more difficult to kill, and I still wanted that rooster dead every morning when it woke me up. I stared at the cow for a few seconds more. “How about Bessie?” It was the only cow name I could think of, but for some reason, it fit the animal.

Rowan nodded and stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I’ve got an aunt named Bessie. And this cow looks exactly like her, if I’m being honest. It’s a good name. Very fitting.”

Rowan helped me move the cow into a stall and gave me brief instructions on how to take care of her. “Brush her every day and give her food twice a day. Keep the stall clean… these things poop more than ogres and are twice as smelly.” He crossed his arms and turned to me. “And make sure to milk her at least twice a day. That’s the most important thing, or she’ll moo loud enough to wake the dead.”

“Um,” I stammered awkwardly. “I’m, uh, not really sure how to do that.”

Without hesitation, the dwarf grabbed a spare bucket and took a seat in the stall next to Bessie. He proceeded to give me a demonstration before inviting me to do it myself. It felt a little weird, but I was grateful for his help. I would’ve had no idea what I was doing if he hadn’t shown me. After about fifteen minutes, we’d nearly filled the bucket to the brim.

“Twice a day,” he reiterated. “Around the same time, or she’ll get an infection, and she might stop producing milk.”

I nodded. I’d have to go into town and get some feed later that day for Bessie. Rowan told me that cows mostly eat grass, but since it was still early spring and the grass fields were full of mud, I would have to buy dry food for her.

After I finished milking the cow under Rowan’s direction, Rowan gave me a tall glass jar to pour the frothy milk into. I did, and stashed the jar in my inventory bag, earning a surprised look from Rowan. He didn’t ask questions, though. Most people were familiar with magical inventory bags, even if they weren’t common outside the major cities.

“In a couple of days, I’ll bring ingredients to make the cheese. It’s a process that requires special cultures, and a lot of milk, so start saving some jars in a cold place. It will take a few weeks,” Rowan nodded absentmindedly, as if to himself, “but it will all be worth it for a taste of dwarven cheese.” He turned to me a second later and cleared his throat. His hardened dwarfish features softened as his eyes met mine. “Do you still miss Leia?”

I blinked, my mouth going dry at the question. The mere mention of her name sent my heart into a flurry, and a simultaneous sinking feeling gnawed at my stomach. There was no denying it—I missed her immensely. She occupied my thoughts incessantly, a persistent ache I had to forcibly push aside throughout the day. To avoid dwelling on her absence, or what my life could’ve looked like if she had stayed in Sagewood, I’d thrown myself into a relentless whirlwind of projects to keep my mind occupied. Still, in the quiet moments of the day, I often found my thoughts turning to her, wondering what she was doing at that very moment, and if she ever thought of me.

She’d left during winter to live in Azurebrook City, most likely forever. I understood that I would probably never get over her. Instead, I had to resign myself to the monotonous rhythm of farm life, one day after another, all the while missing the one person who made me feel whole.

I squared my shoulders and straightened my posture a bit. “No, I don’t miss her at all.” I hoped the lie sounded believable.

A huge grin split Rowan’s face. “Great. I already have someone I could set you up with. Her name’s Rebekah. She’s my cousin.”

“Your… cousin?” my voice cracked with shock, which only made Rowan’s smile grow wider as he nodded.

“You need a lady in your life. Before I met Renna, my life had no direction, it was utterly meaningless. Now, I have a son, a business, and a friend who is going to supply me with unlimited amounts of cheese… all because I convinced Renna to marry me.”

I sputtered, trying to process his words. Rowan’s cousin? Rowan was a dwarf, a full-blooded one at that, so that surely meant he was talking about a dwarven woman. She could be a half breed, but the only dwarven woman I'd met was Renna. She was beautiful in her own way… but I wasn’t much into facial hair on women.

“Rowan, I can’t… I’m not—” I stammered before Rowan held up a hand to silence me.

“You just said yourself you’re over Leia—it’s time to move on.” He turned to leave, but paused before walking out of the barn. “Life is better when shared with someone special. You need to learn this lesson before you die an old and lonely farmer. Which reminds me… you’ll want to go to Otis’ ranch and pick up some more animals for Bessie to be friends with. Dwarven cows don’t do well without a herd.”

“That would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”

Rowan’s laugh boomed across my farm, and he pointed to my barn. “There are twelve stalls in there. Get some goats or another cow. Some sheep maybe.”

I sighed, wondering what I’d gotten myself into by agreeing to the first cow.

Rowan turned again, waving as he did so. “Let me know when you want me to set you up with my cousin!”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Above, I could hear the excited noises of the sprites chatting together about the newest addition to the farm. Within seconds, they were all gathered before the wrought iron bars of the stall that Bessie was in. The cow mooed curiously at the sprites, lifting her pink nose to sniff at them.

Ivy turned to me, grinning. “This is great! I’ve always wanted a cow.”

“I guess we have to get more than just Bessie. Maybe I’ll buy some goats?” I chuckled as all the sprites’ eyes widened. “I’ll have to talk to Otis about getting more animals. Luckily, I’ve sold enough gems that I have some savings.” A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “As long as you guys help me take care of them.”

The sprites unanimously agreed to help, each one excited about the prospect of new animals on the farm.

“Could we try some of the milk?” Clay asked excitedly.

I nodded and pulled the jar of milk from my bag. It emanated warmth, which made my stomach flip unpleasantly. I don’t know why I was surprised—I’d just watched it come out of a cow, of course it wasn’t going to be ice cold. The color of the milk was also different from what I was used to. It appeared slightly yellow as opposed to stark white.

“Here, you guys can each try some.” I turned to Maple, the sprite in charge of all the ingredients and cooking for everyone. “If there’s any left, will you be sure to put it in the icebox in the refrigeration room?”

She nodded, giving me a small smile. Maple never spoke, but she was an extremely gifted chef, and if she ever needed to communicate anything more than a yes or a no, the other sprites often intervened on her behalf, so I knew what she needed.

Each sprite tried some of the milk, which I was sure probably wasn’t great, but they all seemed excited about the new treat. Each drank a few sips from the glass jar, which was comically large for most of them to drink out of, except for Rock.

“This is so good! You have to try some!” Flint exclaimed, milk froth adorning his mouth.

“Even if I wanted to, I probably shouldn’t. I’m lactose intolerant.”

The sprites all turned to me, questioning looks and milk mustaches on their faces.

“What does that mean?” Holly said, scrunching up her nose. I thought for a minute, debating how to tell my friends that if I took even just one sip, I’d be on the toilet the rest of the day and possibly through the night.

“Let’s just say none of you will want to stay in the farmhouse tonight if I drink any of that milk.”

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