Flint took a step back and marveled upon his creation—a copper trellis that he’d labored to craft over the past spring season. He had scrounged up bits of copper wire, poles, and other oddities to create the perfect structure. Matt had crafted the orchard on one side of his house, the side that faced the forest westward, but he had yet to fill the east plot on the other side of his house. It had remained barren and unproductive over the years, which was a shame because the east side got the most sun in the mornings, making it the perfect spot for a bumbleberry patch. Due to Flint’s genius, the land would go to waste no more. Flint had a plan.
Holly’s voice broke his concentration. “This is so boring. Can we please go play a prank on the carpenters?” She was lying on top of the beam that ran down the middle of the farmhouse roof, sunbathing. “Better yet, let’s play a prank on Matt. We can hide a beehive in his bed.”
Flint frowned up at her. “We sleep in that bed, too. Or have you forgotten.”
“Yeah, but so does everybody else! Can you imagine the looks on everyone’s faces when Matt’s big rear crushes the beehive? That alone will be worth a few stings.” She cackled manically to herself.
Flint rolled his eyes. Holly had become intolerable recently, ever since her birthday this past winter. Her up and down mood swings were difficult enough to handle, but she was also getting really mean. Well, meaner than usual, he thought. Her pranks were getting increasingly out of hand, and it was all the sprites could do to keep her from completely destroying the farm.
“I’m not going to stop you,” he said, rolling up the extra copper wire and placing it into his pack. “But just so you know, I’m not going to keep quiet about it, either. I’ll tell Matt to keep a look out for any surprises in his bed.”
Holly scoffed at him from above. She rolled onto her stomach and sneered down at him. “You’re no fun, Flint. You’ve always been such a wet blanket and it’s starting to get really old.”
Flint pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “And you’ve always been such a ray of sunshine, Holly.”
She snorted.
Suddenly, Flint felt the aura of a southern sprite nearby. It was Fern, the youngest and oddest of their clan. Holly jumped off the roof with practiced grace and landed next to Flint with a sour expression on her face.
“It’s Fern,” she said. “Let’s leave before she comes over here to talk to us.”
Flint didn’t argue this time. The southern sprites gave him the creeps. He followed Holly toward the tree line, but he wasn’t fast enough. Fern spotted him and called out.
“Flint! Hey, Flint!” Fern bounded over, her hair a wavy mess and her cloak covered in tiny burrs. She must’ve come from the meadows where sprites had to be careful of the bristly plants sticking to their clothing. Flint noticed she also had a couple of twigs poking out of her hair, as if she’d just rolled around in some brambles.
Flint plastered on a fake smile. “Hi, Fern. How’s it going?”
Holly didn’t stop running. She abandoned him, of course. He’d have to get back at her later.
Fern’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the copper trellis propped up against the side of the farmhouse. “I… wanted to ask you,” she said breathlessly. “What’s that you’re building?”
Flint turned to face the trellis. “Oh, that’s just a little project,” he said, shrugging. “It’s nothing important.”
Fern’s eye widened as she examined the copper wires and poles. “Is it a trellis?” she asked, her voice rising in excitement. “For a garden? Of course! Copper is both anti-fungal and anti-bacterial, not to mention the electroculture benefits—but it’s too small for the orchard or the fields. Where are you going to put it?”
Flint was taken aback. Was that true about copper? If so, how did Fern know all that? He’d used the wire just to tie the pieces together, not knowing it had more benefit than just fastening poles. “I was thinking of putting it on the east side of the farmhouse,” he said, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I was hoping to convince Matt to put in a bumbleberry patch there.”
“Bumbleberries are my favorite,” Fern said, her eyes sparkling.
“They’re my favorite too,” Flint replied, feeling a strange flutter in his chest. “Nobody else seems to like them.”
“Because of the sour aftertaste, right?” Fern was grinning. “But that’s what makes them so good!”
Flint couldn't help but smile as well. “That is what makes them so good.”
Fern’s eyes flicked up to meet Flint’s, and for a moment, they simply stood there, gazing at each other. Flint felt his heart begin to pound, and his palms grew sweaty. What was happening to him? Was he sick?
Fern’s gaze darted away, and she stepped closer to the trellis, examining it. “The structure is a little off though. Bumbleberries thrive when they can climb upwards, of course, but these poles need to be closer together, as bumblebranches can only reach about three inches. These are too far apart.”
Flint blinked, pulled from his daze. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was acting silly. He barely knew Fern, and they were just talking about bumbleberries. Nothing more was going on. Flint felt his ears begin to burn, but he ignored the sensation, stepping up to the trellis next to Fern.
As she moved to adjust one of the poles, her arm brushed against Flint’s. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him, and he stumbled back a step. Fern looked at him, concern on her face. “Are you all right?”
Flint nodded, feeling his face grow hot. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly before changing the subject. “Could you—I mean, if you’re not busy, do you think you could maybe help me configure it a bit?”
Fern turned to him, a blush creeping across her face as well. “I’ve got a little time.”
Flint felt a warmth spread through him. This was nice. Maybe he had misjudged the southern sprites. Maybe they could spend more time together. Working on the trellis, of course.
Flint and Fern both looked to the north, as they detected the two dwarves coming down the river path to the farm.
“They’re probably here to check on the cheese,” Flint said, mostly to himself, remembering a few weeks ago when the dwarves had come by to start the process.
“They’re making cheese? Could we go check it out?” Fern seemed even more excited than she had been before.
Flint thought it over before nodding. “We just have to stay out of sight.”
Fern gave him a nod. “Of course.”
The sprite duo ran down the path to the barn, going in the back door and climbing to the exposed beams. Bessie mooed at them, but neither dwarf noticed the presence of the sprites in the rafters. Flint strained to listen to the conversation between the dwarves and the farmer.
“This cheese turned out absolutely lovely, a perfect first batch,” the female dwarf said, cutting the white block with a wire cutter.
Flint lowered his voice, turning to Fern. “Matt will probably give us some later if we ask. He always shares his food with us. Plus, I don’t think he likes cheese. His body doesn’t like milk for some reason. It makes him sick.”
The male dwarf spoke, talking around a mouthful of cheese. “How did your date with the nurse go?” His jolly voice boomed through the barn and made both sprites flinch at the volume. The dwarf shoved another slice of cheese into his mouth and a blissful look spread over his face.
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Flint snorted dryly. “His date did not go well, he told us all about it last night.”
Fern giggled, covering her mouth with a tiny hand. “Poor farmer.”
Matt stumbled through an excuse as to why there wouldn’t be a second date. The dwarves eyed each other knowingly but didn’t interrupt. As Matt spoke, Fern brought out a notebook filled with sketches. She turned to a blank page, smoothed it out, and squinted down at the dwarves, her free hand pulling one of the sticks out of her hair. No… it wasn’t a stick, but a pencil.
Flint watched with curiosity as she drew the basic outline of both dwarves, getting their male and female proportions correct, but not adding any details to their faces. After a moment, she snapped the notebook closed and sighed. Flint gave her a questioning look.
“I can’t really see that far, so I don’t think I’ll be able to get the details of their faces too well.”
“You can’t see normally?” Flint asked, causing a wild blush to spread across Fern’s face. Flint quickly backpedaled, “I can’t either, that’s why I wear these.” He pointed to his glasses before taking them off and handing them to Fern. “Here, try them on.”
She took them and gingerly put them on her face, blinking. Her eyes went wide, and she glanced round the barn, as if taking in the missed details around her. “That’s a lot better!”
Flint’s eyebrows raised as an idea crossed his mind. He didn’t have a spare frame, but the items needed to craft one were easy to find. If he could convince Reed to make another frame, one that would fit Fern, he could combine them with a couple of his spare lenses to create a new pair of spectacles.
Fern looked around the barn for a while longer, then handed the glasses back to Flint. “Wow. Those are amazing.”
Flint placed them back onto his face, brimming with excitement as he tried to keep his voice low. “I’ll get you a pair of your own!”
“Really?” Fern whispered, a bit louder than she probably intended.
The two sprites suddenly glanced down at Matt and the two dwarves, making sure that they hadn’t drawn their attention before continuing.
“Yes,” Flint said. “I know a guy.”
The dwarves continued to chatter below. The female spoke up next, examining another block of cheese. “What about Martha? I hear she’s back from school. I’m sure Harvey and Cindy would adore you as a son-in-law—and Martha’s as gorgeous as they come.”
Matt shrugged. “I’ve thought about it. But I’m not sure how to approach her. I’m just a farmer, and I don’t think I’m much of a catch.”
“A farmer of any sort is a catch, and with unlimited cheese as an added bonus, no woman in her right mind would turn you down.” The male dwarf took another huge bite.
“Rowan, stop eating so much cheese or I’ll make you sleep outside tonight,” the female dwarf scolded.
“It’s worth it for such delectable fare,” the male dwarf whispered to Matt, though his whispering was almost louder than his usual tone. He winked at the farmer and popped another cube into his mouth.
Flint and Fern watched the conversation from the exposed beams above, barely able to contain their giggles.
The dwarves and the farmer continued to chat, their conversation shifting to various other topics that were much duller than Matt’s nonexistent love life. When it became apparent that nothing more exciting was to be observed, Flint and Fern quietly slipped out of the barn.
***
Flint found Reed near the river, fishing like he usually did at this time of day. Reed had a bucket next to him filled with water and darting minnows that glinted in the sunlight. He waved to Flint as he approached and gave him an easy smile.
Flint waved back, summoning the courage to ask Reed the question that had been on his mind ever since his spontaneous adventure with Fern earlier that morning. “Reed, could you make me a new pair of glasses?”
Reed furrowed his brow. “Is there something wrong with the ones on your face?”
Flint shook his head. “No, no they’re fine. I just figured… it would be a good idea to have an extra pair on hand… just in case.”
Reed narrowed his eyes at the younger sprite.
After a few long seconds of silence, Flint added, “And can you make the frame purple?”
Reed sighed and reeled in his fishing pole. “I can’t help but think that maybe these glasses aren’t for you, Flint.” Reed gave him a knowing look. “Unless you wanted to match the color of that one southern sprite’s hat. What was her name again?”
“Fern,” Flint said quickly, before drawing his lips into a tight line.
Reed’s eyebrows raised, but he stayed quiet, as if prodding Flint to continue.
Flint sighed, finally accepting he’d been found out. “They’re for Fern. But I’ve got all the items you’ll need.” He had indeed brought all the components with him. It had taken him all day to gather them, searching from the northern forest to the southern rock chasms.
Reed sighed again. “I can make a frame, but she’ll need to see Dr. Night for the lenses. Everybody’s eyes are different, and she might need thinner or thicker lenses depending on her eyes.”
“I can take care of that part.” Flint nodded, then he glanced back at Reed. “So… you’ll make the frame then?”
Reed chuckled dryly but nodded. “I don’t much like the southern sprites, but I’ll do this for you.”
Reed shoved his fishing pole and the entire bucket of minnows into his bag, the enchantment fitting the items easily. “Does Woods know you’re running around with Fern?”
Flint shrugged. “Maybe. Why would he care?”
Reed narrowed his eyes at Flint. “Just be careful around the southern sprites.” He paused and raised his eyebrows for emphasis. “Especially girl southern sprites.”
Flint knew his ears were turning red, but he ignored them as he got out all the items needed to craft the frame. He thanked Reed, then returned to the farm, excited to find his new friend.
***
Finn stood in awe as he ran his hand along the tree trunk, marveling at the vibrant green hue of its bark. The leaves that grew on its branches were equally stunning, casting dappled sunlight across the mossy forest floor. He took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air, so different from the salty air of the shores he was accustomed to. The countryside certainly had its charms. Maybe Matt had been right about Sagewood after all. He had grown to enjoy his time here, spent in the company of the other sprites.
He glanced over at his brother who was surveying the forest for portals. Skye stood a few paces away. She and Finn’s eyes met, and she quickly averted her gaze. Finn couldn’t help but smile. He’d especially liked spending extra time with her, even though their relationship had started off rocky.
In the past few days, Woods had pushed himself to shut down the three remaining portals in the northern area of the forest, and he’d found two more to the west, bringing the total number of portals they’d found to six. They’d also put down several monsters that had come through, each one more terrifying and stronger than its predecessor. Finn had seen things that he never could have imagined, things that had chilled him to the bone. It was beautiful here, but it was dangerous, and he missed the ocean, where he’d lived his whole life up until last season. Finn’s gaze shifted back to his brother, who was staring intently at a blank space of forest floor, obviously seeing something Finn and Skye couldn’t. His new purple eye gave him insights into corrupt magic. But that wasn’t the thing that was most surprising about his brother.
Woods was secretive by nature, but Finn couldn’t help but feel frustrated that he didn’t know more about his brother’s life. Matt had nonchalantly mentioned to him that Woods had previously been married, something Finn hadn’t known anything about. Probably none of the other sprites knew, but Finn was his brother. His twin brother. Living on the farm with the other sprites had offered a glimpse into Woods’ personal life, but there had been centuries where the brothers hadn’t spoken at all—centuries filled with loneliness for Finn, and life changing events for Woods.
“So... when did you get married, and who’s the lucky lady?”
Woods turned slowly to face him, his expression unreadable. “What?” he asked, flicking his eyepatch up to reveal his normal green eye. “Sorry, Finn, did you ask me something?” He shook his head, as if to clear it.
Finn narrowed his eyes at Woods. He’d been pushing himself over the past few days to find and close as many portals as possible. Finn understood why, but that didn’t mean Woods couldn’t take a break every now and then. The farm would be safe enough. There were other sprites that were adept at fighting corrupt monsters, and Matt was becoming decent with the sword.
“You can’t keep doing this, Woods. You’re exhausted.” Finn tried to hide the concern in his voice. He retrieved some sandwiches from his bag and offered one to his brother, but Woods shook his head. “I’m not hungry right now.”
Finn and Skye exchanged a look. He hadn’t eaten anything all day.
After Woods closed a portal, he was often left feeling drained. He’d closed two that morning, so Finn could only imagine how tired he was. He felt a pang of guilt at the reminder that Woods always paid a high price for his heroic deeds. He watched solemnly as Woods closed his eyes and rested his head against the tree trunk.
“Did you ask me something, Finn? Sorry, I must’ve been lost in thought.”
“I asked when you got married.” Finn drew his eyebrows together. Sprites stayed together for life, but Woods had never once even mentioned anything about anyone to Finn. “Did you separate, or…?”
“She died,” Woods said bluntly. He kept his eyes closed as he answered, seemingly too exhausted to open them.
Finn’s heart sank, realizing that he had missed out on more than one significant event in his brother's life. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t even know—”
“We eloped. Not even her family knew until a few seasons after we were married. It was a small ceremony, at the top of an active volcano. It erupted right after we both said our vows.” A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, a rare moment of joy flickering across his face as he recalled the memory. “But she didn’t live very long after that.”
Finn nodded, feeling hollow that he didn’t know this major detail in his own brother’s life. “What was her name?”
“Lily,” Woods answered. He said her name cleanly, as if even through the centuries, he never let it gather any dust.
A silence fell between the brothers, but it wasn’t strained. It was the amiable silence, almost like the silence between friends.
He’s changed so much, Finn thought, noting his brother’s washed-out appearance, like a color had been drained from his skin and even his hat. The purple eye, however, retained its luster, and even seemed to glow more brightly against his pallid complexion. And yet, he’s still the same. Woods always puts other’s needs before his own—arguably to a fault.
After a few more minutes of silence, his brother stood. “Well, Finn. I have to get back to work. These portals aren’t going to close themselves, and as much as the voices are telling me to, I can’t kill you.”
“What?” Finn said, doing a double take at Woods, who merely chuckled.
“Don’t worry, they get quieter with every portal I close.”