The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of Fairy Tail Guild Hall as members began their daily routines. The air was filled with the usual sounds of friendly chaos that made the guild feel like home. Near the bar, Gray and Natsu were already locked in their endless argument, this time about who had accidentally destroyed a wooden table during yesterday's arm wrestling match.
"It was obviously you, flame brain!" Gray shouted, ice crystals forming around his clenched fists. "You got so worked up that you literally set the table on fire!"
"That's not how it happened, ice princess!" Natsu fired back, small flames dancing around his mouth. "You froze the whole thing solid, and when I tried to warm it up, it cracked in half!"
Happy floated between them, trying to sneak pieces of fish from Mirajane's breakfast tray while she was distracted by their argument. His blue wings fluttered innocently as he inched closer to his prize.
Mirajane herself stood behind the bar, humming a gentle melody while she cleaned glasses and prepared drinks for the early morning crowd. Her soft voice created a peaceful contrast to the boyish shouting nearby.
In the middle of all this comfortable chaos, Riven stood alone near the large mission request board. Dozens of papers were pinned to the wooden surface, each one describing a different job that needed the help of Fairy Tail mages. Some offered huge rewards for dangerous tasks like fighting dark guilds or capturing powerful monsters. Others were simple requests from ordinary people who needed magical assistance with everyday problems.
Riven's eyes scanned over the lower-tier missions. His body still ached from yesterday's failed training session with Erza. The magical backlash from trying to force Baal's transformation had left him feeling drained and uncertain. He knew he wasn't ready for anything too challenging yet.
"Still taking things slow?" Erza's voice came from behind him. She had just finished her morning training routine and was using a white towel to dry her long red hair. Even after an intense workout, she looked perfectly composed and ready for anything.
"Yeah," Riven replied, not taking his eyes off the mission board. "Master Makarov told me to start small while I figure out this Djinn power. I don't want to accidentally hurt innocent people if I lose control."
He reached up and pulled a mission request from the board. The paper was simple and straightforward, nothing fancy about the writing or the reward offered. It came from a small farming village called Stillwater, located near the western forests about a day's travel from Magnolia.
The request described strange problems that had been plaguing the village for the past two weeks. Sudden lightning strikes had been hitting their farmland even when the sky was perfectly clear. Crops were being destroyed by mysterious electrical surges. Farm animals were acting nervous and afraid, refusing to graze in certain fields. The villagers suspected some kind of magical disturbance but couldn't afford to hire a high-ranking mage to investigate.
As Riven read the details, something stirred in the back of his mind. The timeline matched exactly with when he had bonded with Baal in the desert temple. The description of random lightning strikes with no visible storm clouds sounded eerily familiar.
"Good choice," Erza said, reading over his shoulder. "Sometimes the smaller missions teach you the most important lessons. You learn to control your power gradually instead of jumping into situations that are beyond your current abilities."
She paused and gave him an encouraging smile.
"Besides, helping ordinary people with their everyday problems is what being a Fairy Tail mage is really about. We're not just here to fight dark guilds and save the world. We're here to make life better for everyone."
### The Journey to Stillwater Village
The road to Stillwater wound through gentle rolling hills covered in green grass and wildflowers. Small streams ran alongside the path, their water clear and cold from mountain springs. Ancient oak trees provided shade for travelers, their branches heavy with summer leaves that rustled softly in the warm breeze.
It should have been a peaceful journey, but Riven found himself growing more anxious with each mile. The closer he got to the village, the more he could feel something in the air. It was like the feeling before a thunderstorm, when the atmosphere becomes heavy and charged with electricity. But there were no storm clouds in the bright blue sky above.
By late afternoon, he could see Stillwater spread out in the valley below. It was exactly what he had expected from the mission description - a quiet farming community surrounded by fields of crops and pastures for livestock. Neat rows of corn and wheat stretched toward the forest edge. Farmhouses with red tile roofs dotted the landscape, each one surrounded by gardens and small barns.
But something was wrong with the peaceful scene. As Riven walked down the hill toward the village, he could see dark patches scattered throughout the farmland. From a distance, they looked like shadows or pools of water. It wasn't until he got closer that he realized what they actually were.
Burn marks. Dozens of them, scattered randomly across the fields like a giant had been dropping pieces of charcoal from the sky. Some were small circles no bigger than a dinner plate. Others were massive craters that had destroyed entire sections of crops. The grass around each burn mark was black and brittle, and the air still smelled faintly of ozone and smoke.
The villagers he passed on the road looked tired and worried. They nodded politely when they saw his Fairy Tail guild mark, but their faces showed the strain of dealing with weeks of unexplained destruction. Children stayed close to their parents instead of playing in the fields. Farmers worked quickly, glancing nervously at the clear sky as if expecting lightning to strike at any moment.
As Riven entered the main part of the village, he was approached by an elderly man leaning heavily on a wooden walking stick. The man was tall and broad-shouldered despite his age, with weathered hands that spoke of decades spent working the land. His gray hair was neatly combed, and his sharp blue eyes studied Riven with the careful attention of someone used to sizing up strangers.
"You must be the mage from Fairy Tail," the old man said, extending his hand in greeting. "I'm Toma, the village elder. We sent that request hoping someone would come help us figure out what's been happening to our land."
Riven shook the offered hand, noting the firm grip despite Toma's apparent age.
"I'm Riven. I specialize in magical equipment, so I should be able to detect what kind of magic is causing your lightning problem."
Toma's expression brightened slightly at hearing this. "Thank you for coming. I know the reward we offered isn't much, but this has been devastating for our community. We've lost almost a quarter of our crops, and our animals are too scared to graze in half our pastures."
He gestured for Riven to follow him toward the edge of the village, where the damage was most visible.
"The worst part is how random it all seems," Toma continued as they walked. "There's no pattern we can figure out. Clear skies one moment, then CRACK - lightning out of nowhere. It started about two weeks ago and has been getting worse ever since."
Two weeks ago. Riven's stomach tightened as he mentally calculated the timeline. That was exactly when he had awakened Baal's power in the desert temple.
They stopped in front of what had once been a magnificent oak tree. Now it was split completely in half down the middle, its trunk charred black from a lightning strike so powerful it had left glass-like formations in the soil around its roots. The smell of burned wood was still strong despite the time that had passed.
"This happened three days ago," Toma explained. "Broad daylight, not a cloud in the sky. The lightning hit so hard it shook windows in houses half a mile away."
Riven approached the ruined tree slowly, his magical senses extending outward to probe for any lingering energy. What he found made his blood run cold.
The residual magical signature was unmistakably his own. Not just similar to his magic - it WAS his magic. The same electrical energy that flowed through him when he tried to access Baal's power. But how was that possible? He had never been to this village before. He had never cast any spells here.
"This is my magic," he whispered, placing his hand against the charred bark. Small sparks of electricity jumped from his fingers to the dead wood, responding to the familiar energy signature. "But I never cast it. I've never even been here before."