At first, it felt chaotic. The solidity of earth, the growth of wood, and the freedom of air spun together in a messy spiral. His whole body tensed as if it might rip apart. But slowly, almost painfully, he forced them to align soil-supporting roots, roots swaying with the breeze.
He hadn't reached for it, yet fire answered anyway—a sudden, hungry surge that pressed against him like a beast demanding to be let in.
Rowen's eyes snapped open in alarm, but it was too late. The crimson threads rushed toward him, slipping past his defenses and forcing themselves into the incomplete ring.
The warmth quickly grew into a searing blaze. His veins burned, his chest felt tight, and every breath came with heat like swallowing smoke. He tried to push it back, but the fire element locked into place, claiming its spot beside earth, wood, and air.
