Despite her victory over the corruption in her garden, Briar couldn’t shake the feeling that Calder’s influence was far from gone. The blackened soil had been healed, the elements restored to balance, but something deeper still lingered. She felt it in the quiet moments, in the shadows that crept across her garden at dusk, and in the faint chill that settled over the village even after the storm had passed.

Days had gone by, and though Briar tried to go back to her usual routine—tending the garden, practicing her magic, and sharing tea with Myrtle—her thoughts kept drifting back to Calder. His offer, his presence, the dark magic he wielded… It all hung over her like a storm cloud waiting to break.

One evening, as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting the village in a warm, golden light, Briar decided to visit Magda. The old witch had been a mentor to her ever since Briar had started practicing magic, and if anyone could help Briar understand Calder’s power, it would be Magda.

When Briar reached Magda’s cottage, she knocked softly on the door. The smell of herbs and incense wafted out as the door creaked open, revealing Magda’s sharp eyes peering at her over the rim of her spectacles.

"Briar," Magda said, stepping aside to let her in. "I’ve been expecting you."

Briar blinked in surprise. "You have?"

Magda gave a small, knowing smile. "You’ve been struggling with something dark. I could feel it in the air."

Briar nodded, a weight lifting slightly from her shoulders. "It’s Calder. He came to me… offered me power. And now there’s this sense of something wrong, like his magic hasn’t completely left."

Magda gestured to a chair by the hearth, where a pot of tea was already steaming. Briar sat down, and Magda poured two cups, handing one to Briar.

"I’ve heard of Calder before," Magda said, settling into her chair across from Briar. "He’s not a witch, at least not in the traditional sense. He’s a sorcerer, one who deals in dark magic—magic that twists and corrupts rather than creates. He’s drawn to power, particularly those who wield magic tied to the elements, like you."

Briar shivered, her fingers tightening around the warm teacup. "So that’s why he came to me. He wants my magic."

"More than that," Magda said, her eyes narrowing. "He wants to control it. Calder doesn’t offer power out of generosity. He offers it to bind you to him, to control you through it. His magic isn’t just a gift—it’s a chain."

Briar’s stomach twisted. She had known, deep down, that Calder’s offer wasn’t as simple as he had made it sound, but hearing it from Magda made the danger all too real.

"How do I fight him?" Briar asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "He’s stronger than I am. And if he’s already started corrupting my garden, what’s stopping him from going further?"

Magda leaned back in her chair, her sharp gaze never leaving Briar’s face. "You’re stronger than you think, Briar. Calder’s magic is powerful, yes, but it thrives on fear and doubt. The more you believe you need him, the more power you give him. But if you stand firm, if you trust in your own abilities and the magic of the elements, he cannot bind you."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Briar took a deep breath, letting Magda’s words sink in. She had spent so much time worrying about controlling her magic, about mastering it, that she hadn’t stopped to think about how much of her power came from her connection to the elements, to the earth itself. Calder couldn’t take that from her—unless she let him.

"I’m not going to let him control me," Briar said, her voice stronger now. "But what if he comes back? What if he tries again?"

Magda’s eyes softened, a rare sign of warmth from the usually stern witch. "Then you’ll be ready. And you won’t face him alone."

The weight in Briar’s chest eased slightly. She wasn’t alone. She had Myrtle, Magda, and her own connection to the elements. Calder might be powerful, but Briar wasn’t powerless.

As they finished their tea, Magda handed Briar a small pouch of dried herbs. "This will help protect your garden, at least for a while. Sprinkle it around the edges of the soil, and it should ward off any lingering traces of dark magic."

"Thank you," Briar said, tucking the pouch into her pocket.

Magda gave her a rare smile. "You’ve come a long way, Briar. Don’t forget that."

With renewed determination, Briar left Magda’s cottage and made her way back home. The village was quiet as night began to fall, the soft glow of lanterns flickering in the windows. But the shadows still felt longer, deeper than they should have been, and Briar couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching her from the darkness.

When she returned to her garden, the air felt heavier. Briar quickly sprinkled the protective herbs around the edges of the garden, muttering a quiet incantation under her breath. As the herbs settled into the soil, the atmosphere lightened slightly, and the plants seemed to stand a little taller, as if they, too, could sense the protection.

Briar let out a breath of relief and stood up, brushing the dirt off her hands. "There. That should hold for now."

But just as she turned to head inside, a chill swept over her, sending a shiver down her spine. The garden, which had moments before felt calm and protected, suddenly seemed darker, as if the shadows had grown thicker, more solid.

Briar’s heart pounded in her chest as she turned slowly, scanning the garden for any sign of movement. At first, there was nothing—just the rustle of leaves and the soft hum of the wind. But then, from the far corner of the garden, she heard a faint whisper.

"Briar…"

Briar froze, her blood turning to ice. The voice was soft, almost distant, but unmistakable. It was Calder.

Her hands clenched into fists as she stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "Show yourself."

The whisper came again, closer this time. "Briar… you can’t hide from me."

Briar’s heart raced as she reached out with her magic, trying to sense where the voice was coming from. But there was nothing—just shadows and the faint echo of Calder’s voice lingering in the air.

"You won’t win," Briar said, her voice steady despite the fear creeping up her spine. "I’m not afraid of you."

The shadows seemed to swirl around her, growing darker, heavier. Calder’s voice, low and mocking, whispered from the darkness. "You should be."

Before Briar could react, a gust of wind tore through the garden, scattering leaves and debris. The protective herbs she had spread were swept away, and the chill in the air grew sharper, more biting. Calder’s presence loomed, unseen but undeniable, as if the very shadows themselves were alive.

Briar’s pulse quickened, but she refused to back down. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, drawing strength from the earth beneath her. "I don’t need your power, Calder. I have my own."

There was a moment of silence, and then Calder’s voice came again, softer this time. "We’ll see, Briar Thorncroft. We’ll see."

The shadows began to recede, the wind dying down as Calder’s presence faded into the night. Briar stood in the center of her garden, her heart still pounding, her skin tingling with the remnants of dark magic.

She had faced Calder before, but this felt different. He hadn’t shown himself this time, but his influence was stronger, more insidious. And though Briar had stood her ground, she knew this wasn’t over. Calder was watching, waiting.

And he wasn’t finished with her yet.