There were more hours of sunshine in the day as summer neared, and I found myself having to wake up earlier to watch the sunrise every morning. I was also working later into the evening, as the sun didn’t set until later every night. Still, it was nice to keep my mind occupied and my hands busy.

The orchard was now thriving. Applepeach trees were known to grow quickly, but I didn’t realize quite how fast they would spring up. Now, the saplings all rivaled my height, some growing a few inches taller than me. They looked promising, and Woods assured me that by the end of fall, they’d bear fruit. What was most intriguing about the trees was the unique color of their leaves. Unlike the green foliage of the surrounding forests, the leaves that decorated these trees were a deep turquoise hue. When the wind gently rustled through them, it almost looked like ocean waves. I was excited to try some of their fruit, and Reed told me that Maple could make a fantastic cobbler out of them. My mouth watered at the thought of it. I even considered taking some of Bessie’s milk and attempting to make ice cream, though I would either have to wait until winter for ice or procure some ice crystals. Cobbler can’t be enjoyed without ice cream. And that’s a treat also worth suffering for.

The change in seasons was becoming more pronounced as the days wore on. Mornings and evenings had lost their springtime chill, and the afternoons were hot, almost too hot to work in. My animals loved the longer, warmer days spent out in the pasture. Most of the time, I took Goldie for a ride through the northern paths along the river. I was starting to get rather good at horseback riding, something I couldn’t have imagined just a year prior.

Today, after my daily ride, I examined the other side of my farmhouse, where Flint had started his side project. The berry bushes he’d planted were thriving, almost overgrown. Even though their leaves were vibrantly green, there didn’t seem to be any berries growing yet. It could’ve been that the sprites ate them as fast as they appeared, which was more likely due to how well the plant was flourishing. Despite the berry patch’s success, Flint seemed to have lost interest in the project, and I saw him working on it less as the days went by.

I glanced around the farm, surprised that all my day chores were done, and it was only mid-afternoon. Of course, I still had my evening chores, but it was too early to start those. I looked around for any sprites, but they all were off doing their own things. I knew Woods was tirelessly searching and closing corrupt magic portals, which kept him busy.

Clay occupied himself with taking care of the chickens, and Reed spent most of his time fishing. When Ivy wasn’t with Rock, she was with Holly, keeping my other animals company. Maple spent all her time in the kitchen, experimenting with ingredients and keeping us all well fed.

And wherever Flint spent most of his time now was a mystery. It had been a while since I’d seen him.

With plenty of daylight remaining, and no one around to pass the time with, I resolved to take a stroll into town. I could’ve ridden Goldie, but I’d already taken her for a ride that morning, and she seemed content grazing in the pasture, so I ventured down the path to Sagewood on my own. There was one errand on my mind, one that I had been purposefully putting off for a while now.

A familiar wave of heat greeted me as I stepped into the blacksmith’s forge.

“Be right with you!” Titus yelled from the back of his shop. He was busy hammering something on an anvil, and I waited patiently, soaking in the heat of the forge. It was like stepping into a sauna. I still couldn’t understand how Titus worked in these conditions when it was sweltering hot outside. It was a milder day, and even being in the shop for a few minutes had caused sweat to bead on my forehead. I wiped it away with my sleeve.

After a few minutes, he approached the counter and leaned on it with both hands.

“Sorry about that, Matt. Everything all right with your new tools?”

I nodded. The new silver tools were great. They still looked brand-new, even after all the use they’d gotten this spring.

But I wasn’t here for tools. I was here for a much more delicate matter.

Etherite was an extremely rare metal, worth thousands of etherchips. Woods had mentioned it would be worth more in a crafted state, and right now, it was just sitting in my bag, taking up an inventory slot. I’d seen etherite lockets, wristwatches, and bracelets, but I had something different in mind for this particular metal bar.

“I’m wondering if you can make a pair of rings?”

Titus knit his brows together. “Jewelry’s not really my specialty, but I could do it. It’s simple enough.”

I nodded, and pulled my bag off my shoulder, gaining a curious look from Titus. I pulled out the etherite ore, holding it up for him to see. His curiosity turned into shock as I handed him the crystalline blue metal. He took it from me like a newborn baby, holding it gingerly with both hands. In the orange light of the hearth, the ore shimmered, casting small dancing lights on the walls of the shop.

“Where did you get this?” he whispered, almost reverently.

I shrugged. I didn’t want treasure hunters to come to my property, but I trusted Titus. “Just found it one day on my farm. Do you think you could make a ring out of it? Maybe two? Just a simple band, nothing fancy.”

He gave me an affronted look. “You ‘just found’ one of the rarest ores ever, and you want to make some rings out of it? Rings? Out of etherite?” As Titus said the words, his voice gradually rose in volume.

I nodded. “People propose with etherite jewelry, right?”

Titus nodded, holding the etherite protectively.

“Back where I’m from, people propose with rings. I’ve never seen anyone wear an etherite ring, so I think they’ll sell well in the market. It’ll set them apart from all the other jewelry available. Especially if they’re sold as a set.”

Titus cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re going to sell it? It’s not… you’re not going to use it to propose to anyone?”

I shook my head, and silence filled the shop. After Titus didn’t speak for a few long seconds, I spoke up again. “So, can it be done?”

Titus sighed. “Yes. It can. But… I’m not sure if rings will be popular. I’ve never seen it done before, but maybe you’re onto something.”

Titus looked down at the bar in his hands again before meeting my eye. “You know, you don’t actually have to get this made into anything yet. It’ll be worth more crafted, yes, but you could hold onto it for a few seasons, see if anything changes…” he trailed off, giving me a pointed look.

“Maybe. I’d honestly rather have it shaped into jewelry and sell it. I don’t have any use for etherite jewelry.” My heart sank at my own words. I chuckled to try and mask my true feelings, but it sounded hollow in my ears. Honestly, I wanted to keep the etherite just in case, but I’d been holding onto it for a while now and nothing in my personal life had changed. Maybe Woods had been right. Maybe I am a hoarder.

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Titus nodded, setting the bar gently down onto the counter between us. “I’ll make the rings, but I’ve got a few projects I need to get through first. Is it all right if the rings are done in a couple of weeks?”

I nodded. I certainly wasn’t going to use them, so it didn’t matter when they were done. We worked out the payment details, and I left the shop soon after.

Maybe it would’ve been a better idea to have the etherite shaped into something more popular, like a necklace or a bracelet. But ever since finding that bar of rare metal, I’d had the idea of making a matching set of rings out of it. Something made from etherite was customary for proposing, but for some reason, no one ever used rings. I’d decided to pair tradition from this world with my own, thus the etherite rings. Even though I wouldn’t be the one to use them, it was still my vision for the metal bar. Who knows, the rings might become extremely popular.

I walked slowly on the familiar path leading back to my farm. Evening was just setting in, and I had a list of chores that needed to be done before nightfall.

Still, I didn’t hurry back. Instead, I sorted through my thoughts. Even if it hadn’t worked out for me with some of the women here in Sagewood, there were still others in the outlying villages, like Crimsonshores. Even though every date I’d been on since Leia had been a bust, that didn’t mean that I should stop trying all together.

I sighed, pausing mid-walk. Sagewood was a quaint little town, and it had grown on me. I was torn every day whether to stay or return to my home world. I glanced around at the nearby houses. The townspeople had really spruced up their homes, completing repairs, adding fresh paint and cleaning up their yards. The town square was always decorated with fresh spring flowers, and the walkways were now neat and tidy, the paved streets swept with care. I knew it wasn’t the Baron that had initiated the change, it had been the townsfolk themselves. It was almost as if lifting the corrupted magic from the land freed the people to remember the beauty and take pride in taking care of their homes. Gone were the run down, ramshackle houses and dingy streets. Sagewood looked like a town out of a storybook now, so warm and inviting. With summer approaching, the forest was at its most beautiful, with green leaves and vibrant blossoms decorating almost every space between houses. Would I be crazy to leave somewhere so beautiful? And for what, a desert of Arizona?

After a few moments, I resolved to give dating another try. I hadn’t asked the innkeeper’s daughter, Martha, out yet. From what I’d heard, she seemed both interesting and pretty. A good combination. Plus, her parents had become dear friends of mine over the last year.

Venturing down the path to my farm, I could see a small, orange light to the south, near the spot where the pond was. I squinted, trying to make sense of it. It looked like a campfire. As I neared the light, I found all the sprites gathered together, sitting and chatting around it. Rock had a wooden instrument that resembled a lute, and he was plucking some soft notes. I narrowed my eyes at him. He seemed so comfortable with the instrument. All the sprites had their own thing, and I wondered if Rock’s was music. What was most interesting to me though, was that the gathering included the southern sprites.

Something had happened between the two groups that made them friendlier toward each other, and even though I didn’t know what it was, I was grateful to see them all getting along. There weren’t that many sprites left, after all.

It was also interesting to see some of them paired off, even the ones I wouldn’t expect. Flint and Fern seemed to enjoy each other’s company, but I wasn’t surprised by that, as they were very similar. What had drawn my attention was Finn and Skye. They’d started off rocky, but they seemed comfortable, sitting close and talking amiably. Maybe all that time they’d spent as Woods’ glorified babysitters had softened things between them.

“What are you guys doing?” I asked, surveying the small gathering.

Ivy answered first. “While you were away, Melvin stopped by. He was excited to give you something, but you were gone, so he left it with us.”

Reed chimed in as he rifled through his bag. “He gave us these and told us to tell you that he got the idea to make them from your grandpa.” Reed pulled out a paper bag and handed it to me. I opened it and took out a small, white confection. It was puffy and square, and smelled sweet, almost like candy.

“He said we could roast them over a fire, but none of us are brave enough to try them,” Woods said, giving me a pointed look. As far as I knew, Woods had never eaten a magic meal made by Melvin, but we’d visited his kitchen this past summer, and he’d seen me try to stomach the meals plenty of times. But these appeared different, even tantalizing.

“I can’t remember what Melvin called them…” Holly added, scrunching her eyebrows together.

“Marshmallows?” I offered, examining the squishy candy between my fingers. Surprisingly, they looked exactly like the marshmallows from Earth. They smelled like them too. “I’ll try one,” I said, earning surprised looks from the sprites.

I glanced around. “Does anybody have a long stick I can borrow? Melvin was right, these are better roasted.”

Clay produced a perfect roasting stick from his bag and offered it to me. All the sprites watched intently as I explained how to achieve the perfect golden-brown mallow by twirling it slowly over the coals. Then, I explained how to still enjoy one even after it caught fire by removing the outer black shell.

“But the key is to try to not catch it on fire in the first place,” I said before blowing out my torched mallow. I took one last look at the confection before pulling it from the stick and popping it into my mouth. It tasted exactly like a jet-puffed marshmallow. Sweet and sticky and a little smokey from the fire, but overall, the marshmallow tasted exactly how I remembered.

“Wow! These are actually good!”

“I want to try one!” Clay yelled, and I handed him the stick he’d loaned me. Some of the other sprites disappeared into the forest, returning with their own roasting sticks. Before long, almost every sprite had their own marshmallow roasting over the flames. After only a few seconds, several of them caught fire.

“These are actually really good between graham crackers and chocolate,” I said after helping Clay blow out his burning marshmallow before it became a hazard.

“What’s a graham cracker?” Woods asked. Not surprisingly, he was one of the sprites uninterested in the treats. Rock also hadn’t grabbed one, as he was still strumming on his lute-like instrument, and Alder, the southern sprite leader, hadn’t wanted to try one either.

“It’s like a sweet, hard packed pastry,” I said. “It’s hard to explain.”

Maple perked up at my words, and brought out a small, leaf wrapped bundle. She untied the twine that held it together, presenting a sprite-sized cracker. I popped the whole thing into my mouth. The taste wasn’t exactly like a graham cracker, but it was similar enough.

“If you put the marshmallow between two of these, along with some chocolate, you’ll make something called a s’more,” I explained to the sprites.

Maple rifled through her bag again and brought out a small sack of cocoa powder. I shook my head.

“No, I don’t think that’ll work. It has to be solid chocolate.”

Maple sighed, her tiny shoulders sinking.

“That’s okay, I think they’ll still be good with just the crackers.”

Before long, the sprites were enjoying their s’mores. The sun had begun dipping in the sky, and I knew I still needed to finish my evening chores, but I couldn't resist telling the sprites a story around the campfire first. “Have I ever told you guys about the Ghostbusters?”

Collectively, they all shook their heads.

“Well, back where I’m from, there’s this group, and they capture ghosts and other supernatural beings.”

Some of the sprites gasped, and I nodded, recalling the best details from my memory.

“And this one time, they fought a huge marshmallow monster in the middle of New York City. It wasn’t just any marshmallow monster though—it was possessed by a demon named Gozer the Gozerian.”

As I recollected the tale, every single sprite was captivated, even Woods. Starting from the beginning, I shared how the Ghostbusters gained notoriety and found themselves inadvertently summoning a supernatural being—about how it had all begun with their rise to fame and the unexpected twists that led them to confront a powerful entity threatening New York City. I knew I had forgotten some things, but the sprites didn’t seem to mind the plot holes, as they were all absolutely riveted by the tale. It wasn’t often that I told them about something from Earth and they actually thought it was interesting. Like every story I told from Earth, I left out the part where it was all fantasy. This world was so fantastical, I felt like I had to talk up my home world for it to even compare.

“New York City sounds terrifying,” Reed said after I’d finished my tale. “Why would anybody live there?” He popped another roasted marshmallow into his mouth, and many of the other sprites nodded their heads in agreement.

Woods snorted. “That’s nothing compared to spiders. Matt, tell them about the spiders from your home world.”

I chuckled, remembering the time I’d told Woods about them. “All right,” I said. “Spiders from my home world are really, really, tiny. Small enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand.” My audience was already wide-eyed, a mix of intrigue and disgust on each of their faces. I continued. “They hide in your walls and cupboards. And sometimes, they crawl inside your mouth while you sleep.” The reaction from the sprites surpassed any response I’d gotten during the retelling of Ghostbusters.