Venn’s quarterstaff cut through the evening air with a sound that almost could warn of violence, if it wasn't followed by her high-pitched squeal and wheeze during and after each move. She’d been practicing the same form for the past half hour, and it was still wrong.

  ?Your elbow’s dropping,? Reyn observed from her seat on a fallen log. ?That’s how you get hit in the ribs. And then you die. Or at least lose your breath long enough for someone to kill you. And then you die.?

  ?My elbow is fine,? Venn protested, completing another sweep that sent her elbow decidedly not where it should be.

  ?Your elbow is having its own adventure.? Reyn stood, stepping behind Venn to adjust her stance. ?Here. Feel the difference??

  Venn didn’t even notice that she suddenly held her breath while she tried the form again. It did feel more stable, though her muscles complained about the unfamiliar position. ?Why does the right way always hurt more??

  ?Because you’ve been doing it wrong long enough that wrong feels normal.? Reyn returned to her log. ?Like how you Westerners think chaos is a working organizational system.?

  Jarek looked up from the supplies he’d been unconsciously reorganizing for the third time. ?Some of us find comfort in chaos. I think??

  ?You were an accountant for bandits,? Reyn pointed out. ?Sounds like a complicated relationship with order.?

  The evening had settled into the comfortable quiet that came with good weather and no one actively trying to kill them. Their fire crackled and popped, seemingly pleased with its role in keeping the spring evening’s chill at bay. Above them, the sky had begun its nightly show.

  ?Oh,? Venn said, lowering her staff. ?Look.?

  The aurora had arrived with the casual grandeur of something that didn’t need to announce itself. Ribbons of green and gold twisted across the darkness, flowing like rivers following courses mapped before humans had words for beauty.

  All three stopped what they were doing to watch. Even here in the south, the northern lights sometimes made appearances, though not with the frequency and vibrancy often seen in Ardenia or the far reaches of Bormecia.

  ?Some say that’s where we get magic from,? Venn said, interrupting the silence. ?That the aurora is pure magic, surrounding the world, with some able to draw on it, and sometimes it leaves dust of power that reach us from the sky.?

  Jarek stared at the lights with an intensity that suggested heavier activity between his ears than he was used to. His hand moved to his temple, rubbing small circles. ?There’s something… something important about magic I should know.?

  ?Like what?? Reyn asked.

  ?I don’t know. That’s rather the problem, isn’t it?? His frustration was clear. ?It’s like… I'm trying to remember a word in a language I’m not sure I speak.?

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  ?Maybe it’ll come back,? Venn said, still watching the lights dance. ?Memory’s strange. Sometimes you need the right trigger. Let’s just enjoy thus show for now.?

  ?In Bormecia,? Reyn said, ?the Druids claim they draw magic directly from nature. Trees, stones, streams. Never made sense to me.?

  ?How so?? Venn asked, grateful for any excuse to lower her aching arms.

  ?How do you draw anything from a stone? It’s a stone. It just sits there being… stone-like.? Reyn gestured vaguely at a nearby rock, which continued being exactly what it was. ?But the Druids would spend hours meditating next to them, then suddenly flowers would bloom or water would flow upward.?

  ?Different from wizards, then,? Jarek said. ?They use formulas and books and ancient words.?

  Both women looked at him.

  ?How do you know that??

  Jarek blinked. ?I… don’t know. Did I just know something??

  ?You did,? Venn said, clasping her hands together. ?That’s good! Maybe your memories are starting to return.?

  Jarek smiled and shrugged, then leaned back with his hands behind his head and looked up at the sky.

  ?Your Rage is kind of magic, don’t you think?? Venn said, turning back to Reyn. ?Increased power, healing, all that??

  Reyn considered this with the expression of someone being asked to solve a riddle through interpretive dance. ?It’s not magic. It’s just… Rage. From the inside.?

  ?But you become stronger, faster, harder to hurt. I’ve seen your wounds heal in front of my eyes! That sounds magical to me.?

  ?Good armor also make you harder to hurt. Doesn’t make it magic.?

  ?Armor can’t make you catch sword blades with your bare hands without a single scratch..?

  ?Neither can I. That’s what the Rage is for.?

  Venn opened her mouth to argue further when Jarek made a sound somewhere between a squeak and a prayer. He’d gone completely rigid, eyes fixed on the forest edge.

  ?Horse,? he whispered. ?It sounds like a horse.?

  The deer stepped into the firelight with the casual motion of an animal that knew it could outrun most problems. It regarded the humans with mild disinterest, decided they weren’t immediately threatening, and bent to nibble at some grass.

  Jarek was halfway up the nearest tree before anyone could react.

  ?That’s a deer,? Reyn said, tilting her head.

  ?Horses can have antlers!? Jarek called from his perch. ?I’m not taking chances!?

  ?When have you ever seen a horse with antlers??

  ?I can’t remember! That’s the point! Maybe all horses have antlers and I’ve forgotten!?

  The deer, apparently offended by being mistaken for a horse, snorted and bounded back into the forest with leaps that no horse would ever attempt.

  ?It’s gone,? Venn assured him. ?You can come down now.?

  ?I’ll stay here a moment. Make sure it doesn’t come back with friends.?

  ?Deer friends or horse friends?? Reyn asked.

  ?This isn’t funny. Horses are terrifying. They are huge, and those unsettling eyes....?

  Venn returned to her forms, trying to keep her elbow where Reyn had shown her. Above them, the aurora continued its dance, indifferent to the concerns of humans or their fear of equines. The night was clear, peaceful, and blessedly free of both magical disruption, bandits and horses.

  ?Twenty miles to Valemark tomorrow,? Jarek said from his tree. ?If we start early.?

  ?Are you going to sleep up there?? Venn asked.

  ?Maybe. It’s strategically sound.?

  ?It’s a tree.?

  ?A horse-free tree.?

  ?It’s a good vantage point.? Reyn lay back, watching the lights above. ?Call out if you see anything. Anything other than horses.?

  Tomorrow would bring whatever it brought. Tonight, they had warmth, relative safety, and only minor concerns about deer identification. In the life of a pilgrim, these were the moments to treasure.

  Even if one of their party was treasuring it from fifteen feet up a pine tree.

  ?The aurora’s fading,? Venn said.

  ?Good things do that,? Reyn said. ?That’s what makes them good instead of just regular.?

  She yawned and closed her eyes. Venn continued practicing, slightly smoother than before. Jarek eventually climbed down, convinced the equine threat had passed.

  The fire burned lower, the aurora dimmed, and the three unlikely companions settled into sleep. Tomorrow, Valemark. Tonight, peace.

  It was enough.