A few days after Matt and Leia’s date, Maple was in the farmhouse kitchen, assisting Leia in preparing sweet dough for that night’s dinner rolls. Lucy was on the floor, joyfully playing with a mound of dough, and her giggles filled the room as she squished it between her fingers. It was already caked in her hair, but there was a silent agreement between Maple and Leia: if Lucy was entertained, don’t intervene. Many of the sprites were still exhausted from babysitting the wild toddler.

Leia sat at the table, kneading another batch of dough, while Maple worked on mixing yet another. Providing three meals a day for this many individuals was a full-time task, but Maple didn’t mind. She cherished her family, composed of the sprites, a human, an elf, and two half elves.

She used to fear big folk in general, especially humans, but now the idea seemed laughable. She remembered those first few weeks of living on the farm with Matt, being terrified of him all the time. She shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. How could anyone ever be afraid of Matt?

Leia sighed from the table, bringing Maple out of her thoughts. Maple turned her attention to the elf.

“Maple, do you think we’ll need some spices for the soup tonight? I’m worried it’ll be too bland.”

Maple blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Leia’s question. Normally, she gave Leia the simpler kitchen tasks—kneading dough or chopping vegetables—fully aware that Leia’s cooking skills left much to be desired. Maple had learned early on that if Leia was following a recipe, there was at least a fifty-fifty chance of the farmhouse nearly burning down.

The fact that Leia was now concerned about the soup being bland struck Maple as amusing, even a bit insulting. Blandness was the least of her worries when Leia was in the kitchen.

Still, she considered her spices for a moment. She had a jar of bay leaves stored in the cupboard, but that didn’t seem like enough, plus there wasn’t enough time for the leaf to soak to fully garner the flavor. Suddenly, she brightened. Reed had mentioned some cloversnares in the forest just north of the barn a few days ago. They were similar enough to bay leaves, but had a much stronger flavor, perfect for stewing in a soup for an hour or so.

She gestured to Leia for her to wait until she returned. Given Leia’s track record for cooking, Maple didn’t want her to change anything with the recipe until she returned. Leia nodded, and Maple exited through the front door of the farmhouse.

She strolled along the path weaving through the forest and marveled at the carpet of bright green moss that blanketed the ground. The sounds of Charlie and the other sprites playing in the forest accompanied her, though they were distant enough that she knew she wouldn’t run into them. While walking, she kept a keen eye out for the cloversnares, knowing they would be the perfect addition to the soup. Maple let out a long, exasperated breath. Bland? She couldn’t help but scoff at Leia’s comment. If anything, the soup was probably on the verge of being too seasoned—Leia’s sense of taste had been a bit off recently. Still, Maple would make sure it was anything but bland, even though she was fairly certain it was already perfect.

Shifting into her fox form for greater speed, she moved through the forest, sniffing out the cloversnares. After several minutes of searching near the farm, she ventured farther north, her nose carrying her toward the river and the carpenter’s humble abode. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, sweet and intoxicating, and she couldn’t help but let her gaze wander to the explosion of life that Spring had unleashed upon the forest. It felt like nature itself had surged into overdrive. The trees, which had been slender and bare just seasons ago, now stood like ancient sentinels, their trunks swollen with new growth, bark thickening and deepening in color. Some seemed to have doubled in girth overnight, their roots pushing up the earth in gnarled twists, the ground unable to contain their expansion.

The canopy overhead was a wash of green hues, so dense and vibrant that the sunlight struggled to break through. Every branch was heavy with blossoms, so numerous that they bent low, drooping under the sheer weight of petals. The colors—pinks, whites, purples, and yellows—burst against the dark green of the leaves like fireworks frozen in time, each flower competing for space and attention. Some blossoms spilled over onto the ground, creating a soft, fragrant carpet that was soft underfoot, making her footsteps silent in the forest abuzz with new life.

The forest felt alive in a way that was almost overwhelming, as though every living thing was growing, expanding, thriving all at once. Vines coiled up the trunks of trees, while ferns unfurled in the underbrush, their fronds stretching wide as if they too could feel the surge of energy in the air. The whole place seemed ready to burst at the seams.

Maple found it both beautiful and unsettling—the rapid, almost aggressive growth, the wild, unchecked vibrancy of it all. It was as if the forest had woken up hungry, ravenous for life. It hadn’t always been like this. In fact, for as long as Maple could remember, the forest had been sick—blighted by Corruption’s foul influence. The trees had been stunted, their bark marred with dark scars, and the ground itself had seemed to rot beneath her feet. The air had once been thick with decay, the scent of life choked by the presence of something darker.

But ever since Corruption had vanished years ago, it was as if the forest had taken its first real breath in years. Life surged back into the soil, the trees, the rivers. What had once been a somber, shadowed landscape now teemed with vitality. The colors of the forest—once muted and pale—now exploded into vibrant hues, as if nature itself was making up for lost time.

It felt strange to see the world like this, after so many years of blight. Stranger still was the way everything seemed to be growing faster, stronger, almost as though the forest had been holding itself back, waiting for this very moment to reclaim what it had lost.

As she neared the river, her breath caught in her throat, and she froze mid-step. The scene before her was both shocking and surreal. Strewn across the smooth pebbles of the riverbank lay the River Spirit, but not as she had ever seen her before. The Spirit’s once-glimmering, ethereal form—always shifting and flowing like the water itself—was now dull, stagnant, and disturbingly lifeless. Her translucent skin, which had shimmered with the blues and greens of the river, was pale and still, as if the life had been drained from the very water that had once sustained her.

The Spirit’s hair, once a cascade of liquid silver, now tangled and matted, lay across the stones like strands of brittle reeds. Her eyes, which had sparkled like the river’s surface in sunlight, were open but clouded, vacant, the light behind them fading. A shallow pool formed beneath her still form, but instead of the clear water that should have surrounded her, it was murky and stagnant, as if the river itself mourned her.

The air around the river felt heavy, thick with a silence that swallowed the usual bubbling of the current. It was as if the entire river had stopped breathing. The sight was wrong in every way, and the weight of it pressed down on her chest, making it hard to think, hard to move.

The River Spirit, a being so full of grace and movement, now looked like a shadow of herself, her breath coming in shallow waves.

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Cautiously, Maple inched closer to the spirit, uncertain of what to make of the woman made of water. Nature spirits rarely revealed themselves to others, though they certainly had a fondness for the farmer. Still, with how often Matt and the nature spirits convened, encountering one in broad daylight was extremely rare, especially out in the open like this. Maple stopped a few steps away from the spirit, not sure what to do. She watched for a few moments, searching for any sign of movement. The only thing that broke the stillness was the spirit’s ragged, uneven breaths—if they could even be called that. Each one sounded more like a struggle for air, more like drowning than breathing.

Maple fidgeted uneasily on the rocky riverbank, causing a small cascade of pebbles to click together. The River Spirit sharply turned her head and fixed her gaze on Maple, her watery eyes boring into the sprite. Maple shied away, backtracking a few steps before bowing her head in respect for the nature spirit.

“Help...me,” the River Spirit whispered, her voice strained.

Trembling, Maple nodded. As a sprite, there was little she could do to aid the nature spirit. What events had unfolded here? Was there a force more formidable than the nature spirit itself, preying on magical beings? Maple swallowed hard, attempting to dismiss thoughts of Corruption reappearing and wreaking havoc on Sagewood. Hesitantly, she approached the spirit. If it was poison, Maple could make an antidote, but the River Spirit had spells far greater than any antidote she could craft. If it was a wound, Maple could make a poultice, but again the River Spirit possessed far greater healing powers than simple herbs. And, if there was something in the forest that was mighty enough to injure a nature spirit, Maple would be no help whatsoever. The River Spirit, seemingly aware of Maple’s internal struggle, spoke again.

“Get…Woods.”

Maple nodded vigorously, then bounded off, still in fox form, the cloversnares forgotten.

***

Leia looked out the farmhouse window, wondering where Maple had disappeared to. She often did this when they were preparing meals, but she’d been gone a while now. Much longer than usual.

Leia turned her attention to Lucy, who now had dough caked into her dark curls. Leia winced. It was going to be a long bedtime routine with the bath that lay ahead. Lucy hated baths, and the sticky dough was going to make matters worse.

The farmhouse door opened, and Leia glanced over, surprised to see Reed, Rock and Woods enter.

Woods had just returned from the shores the previous night, and though his magic reserves were balanced, the exhaustion from the journey was clear in his eyes. Still, he smiled and waved to Lucy, and she waved back, bits of dough clinging between her fingers.

“Where’s Maple?” Reed asked, doing his best to appear casual as he glanced around the kitchen.

Leia shot Reed a teasing smile. “She just stepped out to get some herbs from the forest. Why do you ask, Reed?”

Reed shrugged, his features dropping slightly.

“Rock,” Rock said, waggling his eyebrows at Reed.

“That’s not true! I’m only asking because she’s usually in the kitchen.” Reed turned to Leia, a flush of color on his face. “Rock is lying—he’s a pathological liar.”

“Rock.”

Reed shook his head vigorously, looking guilty, “I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Reed’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke, his words laced with forced audacity.

Leia snorted. She’d lived on the farm for five years now, and most of that time had been shared with the sprites. She still found their antics amusing.

Rock and Reed began a hushed, tense conversation, and Woods glanced from Lucy to Leia.

“You might want Matt to handle bath time tonight.” He pointed to her matted curls. “That’s going to be a rough one.”

Leia nodded, chuckling dryly. It wasn’t a bad idea, and Leia had her suspicions that Lucy favored Matt over her. But he was working so hard out in the field, and with the addition of having to clear the fields of crops now, she knew he was pushing himself to his limit every day.

Woods narrowed his eyes at Leia. “Are you feeling all right?”

She paused, thrown off by the question. She had felt off all day. She felt tired, slightly fatigued, but that was normal for her. She’d kept busy enough all day to ignore the tiredness.

“I feel fine. Why do you ask?”

Woods shrugged. “No reason.”

The door to the farmhouse slammed open, causing everyone to jump. Lucy giggled at everyone’s reaction, but Leia barely heard it as Maple stood in the doorway, reverting from her fox form back to her sprite form. She looked pale, paler than usual.

Reed ran over to her, concern on his face. “Maple! What’s wrong?”

Rock and Woods exchanged a knowing glance before walking over to the two sprites in the doorway.

Maple shook her head vigorously and pointed out the door. Leia noticed she was trembling.

“What happened?” Woods asked, looking past Maple out onto the farm, “Did someone fall into the well again?”

Again? Leia thought, but she didn’t have time to ask.

Maple shook her head again, this time more vigorously. Tears sprang to her eyes and began flowing down her cheeks.

A sense of dread filled Leia. “Is Charlie all right?” she asked, her heart speeding up. The sprites were phenomenal at keeping her children safe, but there were always accidents that could happen on the farm.

Maple nodded quickly in answer, but still looked disturbed as she motioned for the other sprites to follow her. She turned, shifted back into fox form, and fled out the door as quickly as she’d come. The other sprites exchanged a look and followed her, not sparing Leia or Lucy a second glance.

Leia, still fearful that her family was in danger, scooped Lucy up and walked out onto the porch. She could see Matt working in the field, toiling away under the hot sun. He waved at her briefly before turning back to his work.

Leia turned to the chicken coop. Usually, Clay and Charlie could be found in there, terrorizing the chickens. She was so worried, she didn’t care that Lucy was now smearing powdery dough into her own long curls.

Cautiously, she opened the door to the coop, relief flooding her when her gaze landed on Charlie. It was as she’d thought: today, it seemed Charlie and Clay were teaching the rooster some sort of balancing trick. The chicken looked at Leia with its beady eyes as if begging for help.

“Hi mom.” Charlie said, waving to her before turning his attention back to the rooster. “We’re trying to teach this rooster how to do a flip off of this bucket.”

Leia sighed in relief. “Just make sure you don’t make him too mad.” She said before backing out of the coop, leaving them to their endeavors.

She set Lucy down, not caring that she immediately went for the nearest mud puddle, and turned her attention northward, where she’d seen the sprite disappear to.

“I wonder what Maple saw out there.” She said to herself, unable to shake a feeling of unease. Leia turned her attention back to Lucy, who was now covered in mud and bread dough, and sighed. “Let’s get you into the bath. It’s going to take me all night to get your hair clean.”

Lucy immediately stood and began running away, giggling with delight. Leia watched her go, unable to summon the energy to chase after the toddler. She was so exhausted today. In fact, she’d been exhausted for days now. With a resigned sigh, she followed Lucy, keeping up with the escaping toddler more easily than she expected.

Maybe she could tire her out first, and then tackle the bath.

As Lucy darted around the dirt paths of the farm, Leia’s thoughts wandered. The sense that something was amiss nagged at her, not just within herself but throughout the entire farm. It was an unsettling feeling, a subtle shift in the atmosphere, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what was wrong. Leia shook her head, focusing on Lucy, who had gotten to the forest’s edge and was darting between the tree trunks. “Come on, little troublemaker,” she called, trying to muster some cheerfulness. “It’s time to get cleaned up.”

Lucy squealed with laughter, weaving between the trees with the agility only a toddler possessed. Leia couldn’t help but smile, despite her fatigue. Her daughter’s joy was infectious, and for a moment, she felt a surge of energy. She caught up to Lucy and scooped her up, the little girl wriggling in her arms.

“Got you!” Leia declared triumphantly, carrying Lucy back toward the farmhouse. “Now, let’s get you all cleaned up.”

As she ran the bath, Leia watched Lucy splash and play in the water, her laughter filling the small bathroom. Despite the mess and the exhaustion, these moments were precious. Five years ago, before she’d met Matt, she never would’ve guessed this would be her life. Her family was her world, and every messy, exhausting minute was worth it.

As she gently scrubbed the dough and mud from Lucy’s hair, Leia’s mind wandered back to the fatigue she felt. She could be sick, or it could be that she was just a tired parent. She would need to see Dr. Night to rule out any diseases. But for now, she focused on her daughter, on this moment of simple, chaotic joy.