When Amelia awoke the next morning she felt much better. The aches and pains had gone, including the throbbing in her head. She carefully opened her eyes and looked around the living room. Everything seemed more or less like it should, but there were still some changes to what she saw. The fire in the fireplace crackled away as usual, but as she stared it seemed to her to look more like several little flame-shaped sprites dancing than any real flame. The warmth was the same, however.

The corners, doorways, and windows of the cottage were outlined with thin bright lines, as if they didn't quite fit together and a strong backlight was seeping through the joints.

She stared at the tiny motes that danced near the floor until she realized it was just dust in the sunbeam from the open window.

"Feeling any better?" Lark asked from her perch above Amelia's head on the back of the armchair.

"Yes! Sorry about that, I don't know what came over me!"

"Hmm, well, maybe you will be more careful in the future. The things Briar and I teach you are not idle lessons, but could very well be dangerous. To you or others. As the Caretaker, you are responsible for the wood and all in it. You should exercise more care, young one."

Amelia looked suitably abashed. Not just because of the physical effects of her potion mishap, but because she really did like Lark, and her stern but fair rebuke was all the harder because of it.

She stood and folded the duvet, which was then placed on the hassock. That item of furniture was pushed over to the wall by the door. Even though the cottage had grown in size with the kitchen and pantry, the living room was still rather small. So Amelia usually moved the hassock out of the way so she could move around the room without as many obstacles.

Lark preened her feathers. She had slept on the back of the chair after Briar had slipped out just after dawn a few hours ago. They had stood vigil over their student until they were sure she would be fine.

As she had the night before, the bird looked odd to Amelia. She had a slight aura which was hard to describe, and much like the cottage, gave the impression that she was larger than her visual size would indicate, somehow. Nothing as blatant as when she had first quaffed the potion, but still noticeable.

"Lark, didn't you say that potion would wear off a long time ago?"

"I said something like that, yes. Why? What are you seeing?" asked the bird.

Amelia tried to describe the visual effects as best she could, but it was difficult to find the right words. Lark seemed to understand well enough, though.

"It would seem that there might be some lasting effect after all. Most draughts last a few hours at most, but some can make true changes. Think of it like this - while the energy of tea wanes as the drink passes out of your body, the coloring of paint stays long after it dries."

Amelia wasn't sure if that was a deep analogy or if the bird was patronizing her, but nodded.

"So I'm still seeing what is really there?" she asked. "Then why aren't there all the wisps and sprites that I saw last night?"

"Most likely for two reasons. While the effect might indeed be permanent, it was strongest when the brew was first ingested. And second, you performed a strong feat of magic as you created the potion, and that drew the attention of the spirits. They came to have a look. Not surprising, since it has been a very long while since strong magic was used inside this cottage." Lark neglected to explain that she and Whisper had spent considerable effort shooing the spirits out of the house after Amelia went to sleep. They had mostly meant well, but could be such a nuisance! There had been a few more ominous presences, but they had faded away when they felt Whisper and Lark approach. Lark was concerned about them but didn't see the need to trouble Amelia yet until she knew more about them.

Amelia stretched and yawned.

"I got a good night's sleep at least!" she grinned.

"Yes, one does after such labors. May I recommend a few thousand laps of the path next time you need help sleeping? It would cause much less trouble."

Again the young caretaker looked sheepish. She hadn't meant to disturb anyone -- just brew some amazing tea! She would have to focus until she had better control of her new skills.

"I will leave you to your morning work and will see you soon for your lessons. Try not to get up to too much trouble, my dear!" Lark said as she flew out the window.

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As Amelia made breakfast and tidied up the Cottage, Lark flew high above the wood and sang her morning song. In the garden, Briar sipped a cup of tea as she looked at the rows of plants and planned her day.

Not far away, Alder dozed. The ancient oak tree slept more these days than it had as a young sapling. It felt the cold and dark more than it used to, as well. But the sounds of the little creek soothed it in its slumber. Amelia had worked for many days to clear the mounded leaves, sticks, and silt that had choked its waterway, and now the creek flowed freely. The little pond right at Alder's roots had been deepened so the little fish had a place to hide away as the fiercest rays of the sun shone down at midday, and also so they had ample room to frolic. The oak loved to gossip with them and watch their antics. He loved all the creatures that lived in the forest, but the fish were his favorite.

Alder usually dozed the early morning away, rousing to full wakefulness as the sun slanted down into his glade. Then he would listen to the twitterings of the birds as they reported on all that had gone on in the forest while he slept. The squirrels would chitter about their explorations through the wood, and the fish would tell of what they saw from the safety of the creek.

From the information he gathered, Alder would plan what things Amelia should focus on for the day. Some days it was a tree or branch that had fallen, blocking one of the paths. Or a nest that had been dislodged and needed to be replaced. Minor things, but important to the peace of the wood. Once a nest of wasps had been established and threatened the peaceful bees. Amelia had been called on to smoke out the menaces, then destroy the nest so they wouldn't return.

But this particular morning, the morning after the wakening in the cottage, was different.

Even as the sun rose towards its zenith, the shadows in the glade didn't flee. They grew thicker and even danced beyond the shade of the oak trees boughs. Tendrils wrapped around the guardian, and its outline blurred and faded as the darkness enveloped it. The flowers, instead of soaking in the sun, wilted and curled up, and the grass withered.

As the creatures approached to make their morning report as always, they felt the cold, ominous presence and fled. Even the fish feared to approach, and the pool was empty for the first time since Amelia had cleared it.

The old oak grumbled in its sleep, pulled deeper into dreams by the shadows that clutched it. Its pleasant dreams turned to troubled nightmares, and a few leaves fell from its branches as they suddenly dried.

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A lone sprite was the only one brave enough to venture into the gloom. The figure looked like a mannikin made of twigs, with a knotty face very similar to Alders, albeit much smaller. Her transparent wings fluttered furiously to keep her aloft as she entered the glade. Her glow barely penetrated the dark, and it took all her will to fly close to the shrouded guardian.

"Alder! Alder! Wake! Wake!" pipped her tiny voice, to no avail. The tree murmured something, but it was just sleep talk.

"Rouse! Rouse! Danger! Danger!" she tried again, still with no effect. She flitted closer, but a shadow whipped from the ground and almost ensnared her, and she pulled back. The cold was seeping into her, and she struggled to stay aloft and keep her glow. As more tentacles emerged from the ground and reached for her, she, too, fled.

But unlike the others, she sought out the caretaker.

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Amelia pulled the hoodie closer around her head as she walked down the trail. It had been getting warmer the last few days, but this morning was unseasonably chilly. Whisper had even snuggled inside the hood to stay warm in Amelia's hair, which was a first. The girl pushed her hands deeper into the pockets and balled them into fists, trying to keep her fingers warm.

Strangely, it seemed to be getting colder as she walked farther from the cottage. It took her several moments before she realized this, and stopped to carefully look around. With her new sight, the trees looked different than they had previously. If she concentrated hard, she could see what looked like figures inside the trunks, their limbs following the tree's limbs. Dull glows outlined them. Some of the plants had a glow as well. It was very distracting.

She was peering at a particularly shapely form in a tall, gnarled tree when she heard the little voice calling.

"Caretaker! Caretaker! Alarm! Alarm!"

She didn't recognize the voice, and it took her several seconds to spy the sprite flying towards her from the direction she had been heading. The little creature looked scared and frazzled.

"Caretaker! Caretaker! Alert! Alert!" it said as it flew to her, then circled around and around as Amelia tried to get a good look at it.

"Hello! Who are you? Is something wrong?" she asked, turning in place as she watched the sprite.

"Alder! Alder! Sleeping! Sleeping!" it said.

"Alder? He should be awake soon, but some days he sleeps in. Nothing to worry about!"

"Shadows! Shadows! Grasping! Grasping!"

"Shadows? What? Slow down! You're making me dizzy! What about Alder and shadows?"

The sprite forced itself to slow its flight, hovering in front of Amelia. Whisper emerged from the hoodie and zipped forwards to inspect the creature, but her glow stayed her normal contented green, so Amelia wasn't concerned.

The sprite seemed to take a deep breath, her wings still buzzing rapidly to keep her aloft.

"Evil! Evil! Ancient! Ancient!" it said.

"Ok, ancient evil, got it. Something to do with Alder?"

"Alder! Alder! Trapped! Trapped!"

Amelia wondered how an oak tree could be trapped, ancient evil or no. It wasn't like the tree was going anywhere on a good day. While it could speak and think, it wasn't mobile at all.

"Why don't you show me? Maybe then I'd understand." she said.

The creature bobbed once in the air, then turned and zipped back along the path towards Alder's glade.

"Wait! I can't go that fast! Oh, too late ..." The sprite had disappeared before her words were even out, it was moving so fast.

She broke into a trot and followed the path. She didn't need a guide, since she took this path every morning to talk to Alder. Plus, she had actually cleared this path and knew every root, boulder, and bend along it.

It was only a moment later that she approached the glade, and could feel how cold it was. It wasn't just the distance from the cottage, but the closeness to the glade that seemed to amplify the feeling, she realized.

She shivered from the cold, then still more shivers as she saw the creeping shadows that wrapped all the trees that outlined the glade where Alder lived. It was a writhing mass of darkness, which at a glance could be mistaken for cast shadows. But on deeper inspection, the shadows moved where they shouldn't, and were darker than they should be. She could feel the menacing nature even from quite some distance away.

"THAT doesn't look right! I wonder what's going on?" She cautiously approached, despite the feeling of dread and foreboding that built. The shadows seemed to deepen in front of her, and several tendrils emerged and waved threateningly.

The caution that Briar and Lark had been trying to drill into her finally bubbled to the top of her mind, and she stopped before approaching within reach. This seemed like one of those situations where she should be careful and not just blunder in, like yesterday.

She watched the waving darkness for a few moments. This was entirely out of her experience. The wasps had seemed like they were the extreme of her duties, but she suddenly realized that they were one of the lesser problems the caretaker of this wood was expected to deal with. Lark's words to that effect came back to her.

"There are many things mortals do not know or have forgotten. Some of those strive against this place, and the caretaker is responsible for protection, not just maintenance. This is why I teach you, for I and the others also work to keep this place safe" the bird had said.

Amelia hadn't given it much thought. The place was just too cozy and snug, especially once she had cleaned up the worst of the litter and overgrowth from before she arrived. It seemed so safe and perfect, that she hadn't been able to imagine any threat worse than wasps, or termites, or maybe a lost wild animal of some sort.

The sprite zipped up to where she stood.

"Caretaker! Caretaker! Help? Help?"

Amelia looked at the small frantic thing, then shook her head. "I want to, but I don't know how! If I knew this sort of thing could happen, I would've asked Alder about what I should do. But I don't have any idea, and I don't think I can get to him with all those ... things ... around".

"Others? Others? Help? Help?"

"Right! Let's go find Lark and Briar, maybe they'll know what to do! Whisper, would you go find Lark? I don't know where she goes to in the mornings, but I know I can find Briar in the garden. Meet us there, would you?"

The little glow ball bobbed rapidly in assent, then flew off into the trees.

Amelia turned and headed back down the trail towards home. The sprite flew worriedly behind her, constantly looking over its shoulder at the black tentacles as they faded with distance. They both felt the cold subside the further away they got, and the closer to the cozy cottage they came.

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"Fern! Fern!" said the little sprite in answer to Amelia's question.

"Ok, Fern. Glad to meet you, but I wish it was under better circumstances. This isn't how I wanted to start the day after last night! I was hoping for some peace and quiet!"

The two approached the gate to the garden.

"Good morning caretaker! Are you feeling better? No ill effects?" Briar was at her workbench inside the fence, but could easily see Amelia over the top of the wattle panels.

"Hi Briar, I'm fine. But something is really wrong with Alder! There's shadows and cold and not-goodness all around his glade! Fern here came to warn me, but I can't understand what she wants".

"Alder! Alder! Shadows! Shadows! Evil! Evil! Help! Help" added Fern.

The goblin quickly opened the gate and ushered the two in, just as Lark and Whisper flew into the yard.

"Caretaker! There is a problem that we must address. Whisper tells me you have seen it with your own eyes. I have seen it from above, and I am most concerned." the bird's melodic voice trilled, a touch of worry in her tone.

"Hi Lark! Fern has been trying to tell us, but we can't get much out of her. She says something about an ancient evil shadow and that Alder is trapped. I just saw horrible shadow tentacles and felt cold. What did you see?"

"From high above, I could see the shadows that wrapped the glade. I could not espy movement or feel their draw, but that is ominous news."

"Tea?" asked the ever-practical goblin, as she offered her steaming mug around to share.

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They conferred in the garden, fortifying themselves with the tea Briar provided. They discussed what Amelia and Lark had seen, with brief outbursts from Fern.

Finally, they had ventured back towards the grove and came as close as they dared. The shadows writhed and tendrils wove in their direction, but they stayed far enough back to be out of reach. The cold bit at them.

"This is beyond my knowledge." stated Lark finally. "I would need to confer with Alder, the eldest of the guardians, but I fear that is not possible now. I do not know what to do."

They watched the shadows as they twisted and enclosed the grove. They could see the withering and decay that set in inside the dark ring, with only Alder seeming to resist. The oak could barely be made out if you knew where to look, hidden deep in the darkness.

Eventually, as Amelia started shivering, Lark suggested they return to the cottage.

"There is nothing we can do here. The shadows seem to halt at the edge of the grove, and the destruction seems limited there. It might be that Alder constrains them, or that it is all the shadows can do to contain him. Either way, we cannot help without more knowledge."

They sadly went back towards the warmth of the cottage. Amelia's heart quailed to see the oak in such a state, but freezing or being grabbed by the dark herself certainly wouldn't help. They would need to come up with a plan. Somehow.

But she swore to herself that she would help him, and defend the wood from this threat.