Ivan stands at a short height. His eyes are shaded with his white hair. He wears a long, pointy red hat, paired with his short body which is covered by a navy blue tunic. Ivan is a gnome, explaining the basis of his description. 

It’s not that he minded. Being short was essential for his role at the greenhouse. Ivan could tend to all the plants at their very start, where they then go to absorb throughout the rest of their delicate body. He could inspect them for problems as well. The only time his height turned out to be not so good is when he tries to reach the pancake mix. Which all, unfortunately, are sitting very high up on the top shelf. This was the situation he found himself in right now. Ivan had been craving pancakes for a long time and finally decided to break his healthy diet and spoil himself with sweet, sticky syrup. But he would fail to do this if he didn’t have the precious mix. He jumped—to no avail—and landed hard on his bottom. 

“Ah, Ivan not again!” came from a soft, caring voice he recognized fondly, ”You know you can always ask me. Here, let me get it for you.”

Carina, having a thin, perfect form, and beautiful, flowing hair, flew overhead and retrieved the pancake mix. Then her childish side kicked in, and she decided to do a twirl in the air. Elegant—in the case of most fairies—but Carina is infamous for being clumsy. Ivan found himself in a snowstorm of pancake mix in a split second after. 

“What’s happening here?” 

Carina and Ivan stopped doing snow angels, or perhaps pancake angels, instantly after hearing the low rumbly voice. It belonged to the elder elf whom they called Benjamin. His family line were the proprietors of the greenhouse, long back before the smog. 

“Caroline,” his name for Carina, “I presume this is of your doing, once again?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Benjamin. Ivan just fell again, and I wanted to help. Long story short, this happened. I swear I’ll clean it up—starting right now if you want—”

A hollow laugh filled the cottage kitchen. Carina and Ivan were nothing but shocked at this. He never had done anything like this before, normally he told them to do their chores and get cleaning during their free time. They always obeyed this at the fact they could lose their crisp paycheck. 

“Meet me in the fireplace room at lunch. But right now, you should finish breakfast. You’ll want a full stomach at this news.” The laugh was over. They were back to normal. Yet something still felt off. 

After eating a handful of tasty blueberry chocolate chip pancakes, Carina and Ivan sat at the antique loveseat in the fireplace room. Moments later, Benjamin walked in on his cane and then plopped down on the nearby rocking chair.

“This is—tragic news. I’m shutting down the greenhouse at the end of this year. While it pains me deeply the undertake is getting harder and harder, and way more costly,” he explained sadly.

Ivan knew what he meant. The vibrant, almost fluorescent greens the plants used to flaunt have been fading down year by year. The pond in front of the cottage is desolate and filthy. Shingles on the roof occasionally fall off, out of the blue. And the prices people offered for their services dropped aggressively.

All the problems link back to one thing: the smog. “The Summer of Dark” is what they call the start of it locally. A factory tycoon sent a couple of scouts out at the beginning of spring. Their goal is said to be “find a barren region.” So they came out to the Snowball Mountains. In their minds this was barren; no form of life. In reality, there was so much of it. Plants were prosperous. A community—consisting of four hundred creatures of all shapes and sizes—that is kind and sweet. But they didn’t bother to look for that. By the end of spring, goblins started staking claims in the region. 

They started to build machines. Tons of them. Big shiny metal toys. In order for them to do that they needed smoke. It came out of massive towers billowing thick black poison. Everyone in the community spent their usually sunny summer in a cold dry shadow. The goblins persisted. And now they were here, losing their entire lives to the monster of industrialization.

“Why,” Carina whined. Apparently, she did not realize what was happening. Of course, she was two years younger than Ivan, making him wiser. “I love this place, please don’t sell it. Please, please, please!”

“I know how you feel Caroline, I really do. But I have to. This is the best thing for all of us.”

Ivan would not accept this. There had to be something he could do. Somehow he would get those dirty goblins to run away and bring the Snowball Mountains back—no—even better than they were at the start. 

∗⁑∗ ∗⁑∗ ∗⁑∗

The very next morning started out drenched with sorrow. Ivan walked sluggishly out of his room to make the most important meal of the day: breakfast. Originally, as the chef, Ivan would go to create extravagant meals that have never been done before. But now his inspiration had fluttered away. Instead, he made soggy instant oatmeal. Carina walked in with her wings hanging low. She dragged herself to sit at the table and depressingly ate. It hurt Ivan so badly to see her like this—he wouldn’t let it last any longer.

That night he designed a plan. A long time ago, at the start of all this, Ivan had snuck off towards the construction site of all the factories. There he saw a bunch of metal boxes and coils that were attached to wires. A transformer as the electricians said. He recalled what they had said about it.

“I’m surprised those money-hogging jerks actually spent millions on this,” said one.

“Yeah, and even more for shipping,” another said, “and yet they’re daring to not pay insurance in case one of them blows.”

They both chuckled at the thought, Ivan not really understanding.

“Let’s see where they are in a thunderstorm, and out for months.”

Ding! This was the lightbulb for Ivan. If he could go and break just one transformer, the factory would be out for months, probably even years with how remote they were. Then the smoke would leave, the plants would thrive again, and the greenhouse wouldn’t close. It was flawless.

That thought hastily dispersed. Originally, the plan was simple. Ivan snuck out the next night with the repair toolbox. He went to the factory site. There, he got confronted by security guards. Ivan said he was the emergency repair man and they let him through. Now, Ivan walked to the fenced-in area, past the high-voltage sign, and started banging. He did not anticipate the loud blaring alarm. 

Now he sat nervously in the foyer, waiting for Benjamin to lecture him about his stupidity and recklessness and so on. Hopefully, after explaining he might, just might, let it slide. The guards had. They just walked him home—mumbling about curfew or a policy—and knocked on the door. Ivan wasn’t expecting anyone to answer. Everyone who worked there were deep sleepers. But to his surprise, Benjamin answered, not looking half shocked. It was as if he knew this was going to happen, like a fortune teller.

“Hello sir,” he directed toward the guard not holding Ivan, “what seems to be the problem?” While saying this he put a dismissive glance towards Ivan, making him feel horrible.

“This boy… Ivan? Tried to break our transformer over at the factory site. Normally, this would result in a $200,000 fine, but since he’s a minor we will pass this off with community service. And this is a publicly run greenhouse,” which he must have mistaken, because it was not, “I guess that will count just enough.”

“Okay, thank you,” Benjamin replied depressingly.

“Have a good night sir,” the guard let him go and they walked back toward the factory site.

Ivan sat there for an hour before Benjamin came in. He became confused when he saw he wasn’t as hurt as Ivan thought he would be.

“Benjamin, I’m so, so, so, so, so, sorry. I was just thinking that maybe—”

Benjamin cut him off and continued his sentence, “That it would stop the factory and the greenhouse wouldn’t have to close. I’m impressed. I really am. Unfortunately, that’s not enough. I thought the same thing, but the factory owns a private helipad and they could just ship out a transformer. Meaning they might be out for a week max.”

Ivan sat there, now sad. There wasn’t anything he could do about it after all. At least he wasn’t getting punished.

∗⁑∗ ∗⁑∗ ∗⁑∗

December approached rapidly, and the greenhouse got put up for sale. Ivan and Carina had to pack all their belongings weeks in advance because the mail service around Snowball Mountains was subpar. So now they just moped around, watching the plants die one by one. It was horrible. 

Until the Snowman Gazette, their local newspaper, fell through the letter slot in the front door. On any usual day, Benjamin would go and pick this up. But he had a bunch of calls, and Ivan was bored out of his mind, so he picked it up to fill the time. Articles on “Pudding: The Brown Cat” were abundant, along with ones like “Snow Creek - A Financial Meltdown” and “Snow Fort Town Meeting Gone Wrong.” Then he came across one that piqued his interest, “Renewable Energy. A Problem Solver.” The article discussed forms of energy that did not pollute the environment and did not use fossil fuels. Cities all over were already building nuclear power plants, solar fields, wind farms, and more. They were all stopping the damage caused by industry—including factories. It went on to talk about a study, but Ivan had heard enough. This thing called renewable energy could solve their problem. It would stop the smog. And it would make the environment even better, which was Ivan’s goal in the first place. Towards the bottom of the article there sat a section titled “What Can You Do?” And that section created a plan for Ivan. He bolted to Benjamin’s study.

Benjamin was just as elated as Ivan showed him the article. He knew all they had to do was carry out the plan Ivan already made and he could keep his family's legacy. To be safe, Benjamin called the real estate agent to take the property off sale. The only problem is that to get the factory to invest in safer and cleaner renewable energy they’d have to get the entire community to unite together. But it shouldn’t be that hard. After all, almost everyone hated the darkness that forever loomed over them now. 

After a month of rallying everyone together. There were now 374 signatures on a petition for the government. They came from fairies, elves, golems, gnomes, dwarves, and trolls who all wanted the same thing. According to policies in the area, with a reputable amount of signatures—which is never actually defined—the government will look at the petition. Eventually, if they see it fit, they will send it to the company which has to comply. Holding the envelope anxiously in his hand Ivan popped it into the mailbox. Now the plan was almost complete.

Another year later, Ivan was sitting next to Carina on the bench overlooking the new field they had created. Slowly, the smog faded away as the factories erected renewable energy structures. Goblins weren’t the happiest, after all, solar panels and wind turbines are not cheap. But the plants in the greenhouse enjoyed this new, clean, and healthy air and grew prosperous. Now, the sky was a magnificent shade of blue with no clouds in sight. The Snowball Mountains and its cities were smog-free again, mostly because of Ivan. He had put his mind to something and got what he wanted. That’s what you have to do for everything you truly want.