The next morning, the weather had taken a sharp turn. Dark clouds hung low in the sky, casting a heavy, brooding atmosphere over the village. The wind had picked up, rattling the windows of Briar’s house and sending the trees swaying like restless giants. Briar stood at the window, watching the storm clouds roll in, a sense of unease settling in her chest.

"Looks like a storm’s coming," Myrtle said as she entered the kitchen, munching on a piece of toast. "A big one, by the looks of it."

Briar nodded, her gaze fixed on the sky. "Yeah. I’ve never seen clouds like that before. They don’t feel… natural."

Myrtle raised an eyebrow. "You think it’s magical?"

"I’m not sure," Briar admitted, a knot of worry tightening in her stomach. "But it feels off. Like something’s brewing up there, and it’s not just rain."

Myrtle frowned, setting her toast down. "Maybe we should check with Magda. She might know something about weird weather patterns. If this is magical, she’ll have some idea of what’s going on."

Briar nodded, grabbing her cloak from the hook by the door. "Let’s go. The sooner we figure this out, the better."

As they made their way through the village, the air felt thick and charged, like the sky was holding its breath. Villagers were already pulling in laundry, securing their homes, and casting nervous glances at the looming clouds. It wasn’t just the usual pre-storm tension—there was something more, something deeper that made Briar’s skin prickle.

By the time they reached Magda’s cottage, the wind had picked up even more, howling through the trees like a living thing. Briar knocked on the door, trying not to flinch as a gust of wind nearly tore the hood off her cloak.

Magda answered the door with her usual grumpy expression, her eyes narrowing as she took in the two girls standing on her doorstep. "What is it this time?"

"We think there’s a magical storm brewing," Myrtle blurted out, not bothering with pleasantries. "It doesn’t feel right."

Magda grunted, opening the door wider and motioning for them to come inside. "I’ve felt it too. Something’s stirring in the air. It’s not a normal storm."

Briar’s stomach twisted. If even Magda was concerned, that couldn’t be a good sign.

Inside the cottage, Magda busied herself with a few herbs and jars, muttering under her breath as she moved about. Briar and Myrtle exchanged uneasy glances, waiting for her to explain.

After a few moments, Magda finally spoke. "It’s elemental, alright. Something’s disrupted the balance. When the elements get out of sync, the weather tends to go wild. This storm is just the beginning."

Briar’s heart sank. "The elements are out of sync? How does that happen?"

Magda gave her a sharp look. "Usually when someone’s messing around with too much elemental magic without knowing what they’re doing."

Briar winced. She didn’t have to ask who Magda was referring to.

"Wait," Myrtle said, her eyes wide. "You think this is because of Briar?"

Magda snorted. "I don’t think. I know."

Briar felt a cold wave of guilt wash over her. "But I’ve been careful. I’ve only practiced the elemental magic when it felt right, and I’ve been getting better—"

"Better isn’t the same as mastery," Magda interrupted, her tone blunt but not unkind. "Elemental magic is tricky. It’s not just about controlling the elements—it’s about keeping them in balance. You’ve stirred up too much energy, and now the elements are fighting each other."

Stolen story; please report.

Myrtle frowned. "So what do we do? How do we fix it?"

Magda sighed, rubbing her temples. "You’ll need to restore the balance. The elements need to be calmed, brought back into harmony with each other. Otherwise, this storm will keep building until it tears the whole village apart."

Briar’s stomach churned. She hadn’t realized how serious things had become. Her excitement over learning new magic had blinded her to the consequences, and now the entire village was at risk because of her mistakes.

"I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this," Briar said, her voice determined but shaky. "How do I restore the balance?"

Magda eyed her for a long moment, then nodded toward the window, where the storm clouds were gathering darker and thicker by the minute. "You’ll need to confront each element, one at a time. Calm the winds, tame the fire, settle the earth, and soothe the waters. Only then will the storm die down."

Briar swallowed hard. "And how exactly do I do that?"

Magda shrugged, her tone almost casual. "That’s up to you, Thorncroft. You’re the one who stirred them up. You’ll have to figure out how to make peace with them."

Briar felt a wave of panic rise in her chest, but she forced it down. This was her responsibility. She had made the mess, and now she had to clean it up.

"Where do I start?" Briar asked, her voice quiet but steady.

"The wind," Magda said, nodding toward the door. "It’s the loudest right now. Tame the wind, and the rest will follow."

Myrtle stepped forward, her expression serious. "We’re in this together, Briar. You’re not doing this alone."

Briar managed a small smile, grateful for Myrtle’s unwavering support. "Thanks."

With a deep breath, Briar turned toward the door. The wind outside was howling louder than ever, rattling the windows and sending leaves and branches flying through the air. It was wild, untamed—just like the magic she had been learning to control.

As they stepped outside, the full force of the storm hit them. The wind whipped at their cloaks, tugging at their hair and pulling at their clothes like invisible hands. Briar had to steady herself against the doorframe just to keep from being knocked over.

"Alright," Briar muttered, squinting against the wind. "Let’s calm this storm."

Myrtle stayed close by, her hands gripping her cloak tightly as she braced herself against the wind. "You’ve got this, Briar. Just remember what Magda said—don’t fight the wind. Work with it."

Briar nodded, though her heart was pounding in her chest. She closed her eyes, reaching for the magic inside her, feeling for the familiar connection to the air. It was wild, chaotic—so much more intense than the gentle breezes she had summoned during her practice sessions. But it was still there, waiting for her to reach out.

Slowly, Briar willed the wind to calm. She didn’t push or pull—she simply asked. She invited the wind to settle, to find its rhythm again.

At first, nothing happened. The wind howled louder, the branches swaying violently above them. But Briar didn’t give up. She stayed focused, feeling the magic flow through her, light and free. She reached deeper, connecting with the storm’s core, and gently asked it to calm.

And then, slowly, the wind began to ease.

It wasn’t immediate, and it wasn’t perfect, but Briar could feel the change. The gusts grew softer, the branches swayed less violently, and the howling in her ears faded to a low whisper. The storm was still there, but the wind had listened. It had heard her plea and responded.

Briar opened her eyes, blinking in surprise as she saw the trees swaying gently in the breeze. The storm hadn’t passed entirely, but the wind had calmed. The first step had been taken.

"You did it!" Myrtle exclaimed, her voice full of awe. "The wind’s calmed down!"

Briar let out a long breath, her heart still racing from the effort. "One down, three to go."

Myrtle clapped her on the back, her grin wide. "You’re amazing, Briar. I knew you could do it."

But Briar didn’t feel amazing. She felt exhausted—and they still had three more elements to face. The wind had been just the beginning.

"Next is fire," Briar said, her voice quiet.

Myrtle nodded, her expression serious. "Let’s get to it."

They made their way toward the center of the village, where the villagers had already started lighting torches and fires to keep warm as the storm raged on. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, and Briar could feel the heat radiating from the flames as they flickered and danced in the wind.

As they approached the largest firepit in the village square, Briar could feel the fire magic stirring inside her. It was wild and hungry, just like before. But this time, she didn’t let the fear overwhelm her.

She knelt by the fire, closing her eyes and reaching for the flames with her magic. Just like with the wind, she didn’t try to force anything. She simply asked.

The fire crackled, its heat pulsing against her skin, but Briar didn’t back down. She let the magic flow, gentle and steady, and asked the fire to calm.

At first, the flames roared in response, flaring higher as if testing her resolve. But Briar stayed focused, her magic flowing in rhythm with the fire. Slowly, the flames began to settle, their heat softening as they shrank back into the firepit.

Briar opened her eyes, her heart racing as she saw the fire burning calmly in front of her. She had done it—she had tamed the fire.

Myrtle let out a breath of relief, her smile returning. "Two down, two to go."

Briar nodded, her body trembling from the effort. "Let’s finish this."