The festival was over. The cheers had died down, the villagers had gone home, and Briar was left standing in the village square with her gigantic pumpkin, feeling utterly exhausted. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestones, and the once-lively square was now eerily quiet.

Myrtle, who had been buzzing with excitement all day, plopped down next to Briar on a bench. She sighed contentedly and stretched her arms. "Well, that was a success!"

Briar, slumped next to her, shot her a tired look. "If by success you mean being forced into the spotlight because of a vegetable, then sure, a roaring success."

Myrtle grinned. "Hey, you won, didn’t you? And everyone in the village knows your name now. I call that a win."

Briar groaned, rubbing her temples. "Yeah, but now what? I’ve got a pumpkin the size of a house sitting in the middle of the village. What am I supposed to do with it?"

Myrtle tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You could turn it into a carriage? Or maybe a guest house?"

"Don’t," Briar warned, her voice deadpan. "Don’t even joke about that."

Myrtle giggled, but Briar was too tired to join in. The whole day had been a blur of excited villagers, endless compliments on her "amazing magical talents," and Old Man Harper glaring at her from across the square. Sure, winning the contest had been nice, but now she was left with the very real problem of what to do with a massive, enchanted pumpkin.

And the worst part? She didn’t even like pumpkins.

"Seriously though," Briar muttered, glancing up at the hulking vegetable. "What am I supposed to do with it? I can’t leave it here forever."

Myrtle shrugged, ever the optimist. "I’m sure the village council will figure something out. Maybe they’ll carve it into the world’s largest jack-o’-lantern. Or, you know, let it become a tourist attraction."

Briar groaned again. "I just want my life to go back to normal."

"Normal?" Myrtle laughed. "You’ve got talking vegetables and a garden with a mind of its own. I don’t think ‘normal’ is on the table anymore."

"Thanks for the reminder," Briar muttered, sinking lower on the bench. "I just want one day without magical chaos."

As if on cue, the pumpkin gave a faint wobble. Briar stiffened, her eyes narrowing at the giant vegetable.

"Oh no," she whispered. "No, no, no. Don’t you dare."

But the pumpkin didn’t listen. It wobbled again, this time more violently, and then—without warning—it rolled off the cart with a loud thud, hitting the ground with enough force to shake the nearby stalls.

Briar leapt to her feet, her heart racing. "What is it doing?!"

Myrtle, who had been mid-sip from her water bottle, spit out a mouthful of water and burst into laughter. "It’s rolling away!"

Indeed, the pumpkin—despite its massive size—was slowly rolling toward the village fountain, gathering speed as it went. The sight would have been comical if it weren’t also completely horrifying.

"Oh no, oh no!" Briar ran after the pumpkin, waving her hands frantically. "Stop! Stop rolling!"

Myrtle, still laughing, ran after her. "This is amazing!"

The pumpkin, apparently uninterested in stopping, continued its slow roll toward the fountain, crashing into stalls and knocking over flower pots as it went. Briar could only watch in horror as the giant vegetable barreled straight into the stone edge of the fountain, sending a spray of water shooting into the air.

For a moment, the pumpkin teetered precariously on the edge of the fountain, as if deciding whether or not it wanted to take the plunge. And then, with a soft plop, it rolled into the water and sank halfway in, creating a small tidal wave that drenched the surrounding area.

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Briar stood there, mouth agape, as water dripped from her hair and clothes. "Are you kidding me?"

Myrtle, now doubled over with laughter, clutched her sides. "Oh my stars, Briar! You’ve outdone yourself!"

Briar groaned, wiping water from her face as she stared at the ridiculous sight before her—a giant, half-submerged pumpkin floating in the village fountain like some sort of bizarre art installation.

"This is the worst," Briar muttered.

Reginald, who had somehow managed to stay dry in his basket, piped up from the sidelines. "Well, on the bright side, it’s not rolling anymore."

"Not helping, Reginald," Briar grumbled.

Just then, one of the village council members—a tall, stern-looking woman with a permanently disapproving expression—appeared at the edge of the square, her arms crossed as she surveyed the scene. Briar cringed.

"Miss Thorncroft," the woman said in a clipped tone. "Care to explain why there’s a giant pumpkin in the fountain?"

Briar winced. "It, uh… got away from me."

The councilwoman raised an eyebrow. "Got away from you?"

"It’s, um… magical?" Briar said, her voice small.

The councilwoman sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Of course it is."

Myrtle, who had finally composed herself, stepped forward with a bright smile. "Don’t worry! We’ll take care of it. Right, Briar?"

Briar nodded weakly, though she had no idea how she was supposed to "take care of" a giant pumpkin lodged in the village fountain.

"See?" Myrtle continued, patting Briar on the back. "No problem at all. We’ll have this all cleaned up in no time!"

The councilwoman didn’t look convinced, but she waved a hand dismissively. "Fine. Just… make sure it’s out of the fountain by tomorrow morning. And try not to destroy anything else in the process."

As the councilwoman marched off, Briar turned to Myrtle with wide eyes. "How am I supposed to get that thing out of the fountain?"

Myrtle grinned. "We’ll figure it out! Come on, how hard can it be?"

Briar stared at the enormous, half-submerged pumpkin. "I think we’re going to need more than just a plan."

Myrtle’s grin widened. "Then let’s get started!"

----------------------------------------

An hour later, Briar and Myrtle were soaked to the bone, covered in mud and fountain water, and utterly exhausted. Despite their best efforts—which had involved ropes, pulleys, and a very grumpy horse—they hadn’t made much progress. The pumpkin, stubborn as ever, remained firmly lodged in the fountain, refusing to budge no matter how hard they pushed, pulled, or prodded.

"This is impossible," Briar groaned, sitting down on the edge of the fountain and wiping mud from her face. "We’re never going to get this thing out."

Myrtle, who was still grinning despite the circumstances, plopped down next to her. "Oh, come on. We’ve just gotta think outside the box."

"The box?" Briar muttered. "The box is the only thing that hasn’t been crushed by this pumpkin."

Myrtle laughed. "Hey, we’ve gotten this far, haven’t we? We just need a little more… magic."

Briar shot her a look. "You want me to use more magic? Have you seen what my magic has done so far?"

"Yeah," Myrtle said brightly. "It gave you a giant pumpkin! Now all we need is a giant solution!"

Briar groaned, but part of her knew that Myrtle was right. If they were going to get this thing out of the fountain, it was going to take more than brute force. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d have to rely on her magic again—no matter how unpredictable it had been lately.

Taking a deep breath, Briar stood up and faced the pumpkin. "Alright. Let’s do this."

Myrtle clapped her hands together. "That’s the spirit!"

With renewed determination, Briar closed her eyes and focused on the massive vegetable in front of her. She could feel the familiar hum of magic stirring in her chest, but this time, she didn’t try to control it too tightly. She let it flow through her, like the current of a river, guiding her movements as she raised her hands.

The pumpkin gave a faint shudder, and Briar could feel the magic wrapping around it, tugging gently at its edges. Slowly, carefully, she willed the pumpkin to rise from the water, using the magic to lift it just enough to free it from the fountain’s edge.

Myrtle watched with wide eyes as the pumpkin began to lift, its massive form shimmering in the moonlight. "You’re doing it, Briar!"

Briar gritted her teeth, focusing all her energy on keeping the pumpkin afloat. It was heavier than she’d expected—so much heavier—but she could feel the magic responding to her will, pushing the pumpkin upward inch by inch.

But just as she was about to pull the pumpkin free, her concentration wavered, and the pumpkin wobbled dangerously.

"No, no, no!" Briar muttered, struggling to regain control.

With a loud splash, the pumpkin slipped from her magical grip and plummeted back into the fountain, sending another wave of water crashing over them.

Briar stood there, drenched and defeated, as Myrtle burst into laughter beside her. "Okay, so maybe that didn’t go exactly as planned."

"Thanks for the encouragement," Briar muttered, wiping water from her eyes.

But despite the failure, Briar couldn’t help but smile. Sure, the pumpkin was still stuck in the fountain, and sure, she was soaking wet. But at least she’d tried—and at least she wasn’t dealing with it alone.

Myrtle, still chuckling, gave her a friendly nudge. "Come on. Let’s call it a night. We’ll figure it out tomorrow."

Briar sighed, glancing at the pumpkin one last time. "Fine. But tomorrow, we’re getting rid of that thing for good."

As they trudged back to Briar’s house, wet and exhausted, Briar couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope. Maybe her magic wasn’t perfect, and maybe her garden was still a little chaotic. But at least she was learning.

And who knew? Maybe tomorrow would be the day she finally got it right.