“I still don't understand why Team Seventeen got partial merit when they were worse than us in the war game.” Salaya is still complaining. “We should have been credited with second.”

Ebin frowns at her. “Why couldn't you win the war game, Salaya?”

“What a question.” says Eje as blandly as she can manage. She's mostly able to suppress the annoyance that twinges in her chest every time Salaya brings up their results, but it still leaks out of her in small drips. Salaya shoots her an indignant look and Eje regrets it. She did promise to be nicer at some point in the morning, didn't she? “Team Seventeen made it back to the circle before us.” she says.

“Physical fitness is another area you'll have to work on.” says Ebin. “It's not enough to merely have a sharp mind, is it, Salaya?”

“No sir, it's not.” says Salaya.

“You must be like Ogridor.” continues Ebin. “Powerful at all times, ready to leap into action even if asleep a moment ago. I'm sure Octave can attest to that.”

“Hm? Oh yes.” says Octave, her eyes not on the road but following a great hawk as it circles above, slowly drifting away toward the heights of mountains in the tantalizing distance.

Ebin watches her for a few moments. “Forgive me for asking, but you are a mercenary, aren't you?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. My cousin was a mercenary for several years before joining the army. Are you new, or have you been in the business for long?”

“Indeed.” says Octave. Eje looks over to see her eyes. They're circling after the hawk, as distant as her voice.

“I'm always impressed when I see a female mercenary. They're not exactly common, you know?” Ebin is in high spirits. And why shouldn't he be? He's on a winning team with strong team members, two of whom he's familiar with, and he's talking with authority on things he claims to know about. “Normally they're cut from the first round of selections and then study hard to get into a branch of the mage's guild. I'm sure you'll have all sorts of valuable lessons for the girls.”

“Of course.”

“And since mercenaries need to be strong, you'll need to have some excellent magic to compensate for your natural weaknesses – don't give me that look, Annya, it's a simple truth that men are stronger than women.”

“Well said.” says Octave.

Ebin looks over at her. “Are you listening to me?”

“Another excellent point.” says Octave. Ebin's cheeks flush pink and he turns back to the road, huffing to himself. Octave's eyes long ago lost sight of the hawk but continue to sweep down the hill, over trees, and up the mountains, serene ignorance stamped on her face. One hand swings carelessly at her side, the other fiddles with the strap on her pack. Eje resists the oncoming urge to give her newest teammate a hug.

The crossroads sit at the bottom of the valley, where dusk shadows cover longitudinal tracks and the signpost has a notch for every missing traveller. Eje longs for warm spring evenings on the veranda watching geese overhead with Trila by her side pouring another cup of cherry tea. She longs for those days before she grew up, when magic was still a enigma of enchantments, and anything was possible. Mother and father would take her for walks through the park and they would identify different plants by examining their indigo and azure flowers. On the way home they would pick beans and carrots from her very own little back garden. Instead she picks hopefully at miner's lettuce growing in small bunches along the side of the road. She nods and waves as Team Eight take their leave, heading west to meet up with a detachment of hunters who've found an orc encampment somewhere under the setting sun; Annya gives Ariel and Salaya a hug each before they go. Then they're off, and Eje is heading east with the rest of Team Twenty-Four into the darkness. She turns back to see if they're doing the same. They aren't.

“Can we make camp here?” asks Ariel presently. She's visibly flagging, behind even Octave, too tired to even brush her hair from her face.

“We should get out of the valley first.” says Octave. Eje looks over in surprise. She hasn't spoken since her little chat with Ebin, and before that, she hadn't spoken since they selected their mission and set out from the castle. She walked at the back of the team as they talked with Annya and Team Eight over how lucky they were to be going in the same direction and how exciting the first mission would be.

“Are you sure?” asks Salaya. She's wiping at the sweat dripping into her eyes, and only succeeding in spreading it across her face. Eje wonders what it would be like to have a team of only fighter mages, no casters. “

“It's a bad idea to camp down here.” says Octave. “If we have to run in the night, it shouldn't be uphill.” They continue on until they stand on the rise over the valley, bats flitting down to where insects congregate in the warmer air below. A small stream leads them to a clearing with a dead tree or two, and Salaya soon has a fire crackling under Eje's shroud. Even Eje has to admit there's something satisfying here, sprawled next to the fire eating dry provisions, passing around a flask of grape wine she swiped from the kitchens. They do have to move every so often when the wind shifts and blows smoke into their faces, but the fire is so mesmerizing to watch that this fault can easily be overlooked. The conversation should flow here, followed by jokes, chatter, and tales. But the three girls keep looking over to Octave, unsure of what presence they're dealing with, as she politely refuses the wine, preferring to gnaw on a hunk of bread.

“So Octave,” says Salaya at length, “what magic do you possess? I'm a colour mage, you know. Best of Three Peaks Academy. Ariel is a brilliant life and luminous mage. And Eje is a strong dusk mage from Muse.”

“The strongest dusk mage from Muse.” corrects Eje.

Octave puts aside her bread and leans back against a rock. “My specialties are kinetic and wilds.”

The girls exchange confused looks. “How is that possible?” asks Salaya. Is she making fun of them?

“Well, I started with wilds magic. Then I tried out kinetic and liked it.”

“They're not connected.” says Eje. “Did you also learn metallurgy?”

“I didn't need to; all magic is connected. Besides, metallurgy is a waste of time if you're going to fight.”

“But they're not directly connected.” protests Salaya. “Wilds is a base, but there are at least two other bases between it and kinetic magic.” Eje can see her looking at her pack as though regretting not bringing her old school notes with her. Her fingers tap nervously, wishing they could pull out that diagram of the branches of magic to prove her point.

Octave stretches out like a big cat after a long day. “Is that really what you learned in school?” she asks. “That magic is so strict and restrained?”

“It's what everyone learns,” lectures Salaya, “because that's how it works. Learning a branch of magic without the base would be like learning algebra before arithmetic, or astrology before astronomy.”

“It is possible though.” pipes up Ariel.

“It's not. A base provides the roots from which the branches may sprout.” recites Salaya.

“No, I remember Garsun telling me there was a time when it was done, but it was eventually deemed too difficult and abandoned.” insists Ariel. “I always did wonder what it would be like to just try colour magic, but there's not enough time.”

“Who's Garsun?” asks Eje.

“Someone with knowledge clearly.” says Octave. “But not too much. It still is done, and it's not especially difficult. You get taught to look at magic as though it's some sort of plant. You bury your roots in the ground and grow from a base, but your ability will always be static. Even if you focus primarily on a branch, you're still tethered to that base. Magical systems are just models we envision to help understand them. Over time and research we discovered affinities between magics and grouped them together. We found groups within grasp of other groups, we found some groups less able to grasp other groups, and we found certain groups pulled other groups closer for easy grasping. Thus evolved the current model with bases and branches, and no two bases connected for some reason. Everything is supposed to be easier to learn, but it's more restrictive. But magic is an extension of your mind, and mind grows unrestricted. It needs no soil for roots, no sun for leaves; only the nourishment that I choose to provide it suffices.”

“No school would ever teach this. Were you also homeschooled?”

“I did indeed attend an approved school. A uniquely miserable experience it was, but thankfully, a brief one. I found better teachers beyond the confines of brick walls and scheduled testing.”

Salaya leans back, crossing her arms. There's a lot to protest here, but not many ways to go about it. There's a sort of finality Octave exudes, the same sort that a teacher would when giving a lesson where it's assumed that one will accept what is being told and, in time, come to understand it. Instead, Eje asks “Is this why Ranim sent you to our team? To challenge us? Or is this some sort of test he devised?”

“I can assure you I have no ulterior motives in this conversation.” says Octave. “You can believe me or not. As for why Ranim Harki assigned me here, I assumed it was sadism. He's a nasty sort. Not so nasty that he'd bother to create a test to torture you with though. More of a government laziness, the sort that mixes self-importance with rigid incompetence.”

“Well I don't know if that's fair. Ranim Harki is a busy man, you know. But you were the only mercenary assigned to the student teams. We were at one point wondering if it was because we weren't good enough.”

“Why is that?”

Eje sighs. “We're team twenty-four out of twenty-seven teams. We were near the bottom before the war game, and probably at the bottom after.”

“I don't believe that's how it works.” says Octave, staring into the fire. “I thought the same thing when I saw your team number and asked Ranim Harki was if he was putting me on a bottom team. He assured me the team numbers had nothing to do with placement but were more the order in which the teams were assembled. Some of the more difficult to place mages were put to the side until complementary teammates could be found for them. Much as I'd like to distrust him, I'm inclined to accept his words in this case. Here, pass me the flask. I'll drink to being difficult.”

“That's a relief, I suppose,” says Salaya passing the flask for one last celebratory round, “but I'm not sure I share your enthusiasm at being 'difficult'. What does that even mean?”

“Probably that our abilities that don't mesh fully with other people, or that we have unusual abilities.” says Ariel, wrapping a blanket around herself. Eje, wrapped in her own blanket and watching the fire flicker and fade into glowing embers feels relief for the first time all day. She soon fades into sleep, deciding she'll worry about the bandits and strange opinions on magic tomorrow.

The first light of dawn floods in through the trees and onto Eje's face. She groans and tries to cover up, but it's too late. She sits up after a short struggle, rubbing grit out of her blurry eyes. The others are already up. Ariel is poking at the ashy remains of their fire with a stick while Octave and Salaya look on.

“Good morning, dozy.” says Salaya with her usual bright attitude.

“Is it even morning yet?” asks Eje, pawing around for her bag and a drink of water. “Still feels like last night.”

Ariel gives up, throwing her stick away. “Can you just light the fire, Salaya?” Salaya does, smirking.

“By the way.” says Eje, looking around. “Where do we, um, you know.” Ariel and Salaya exchange cautious looks.

“Dig a hole in the ground and use leaves.” says Octave. “Not here, silly. In the woods away from camp.” She watches Eje tramp off into the woods and calls out after her. “And be sure to wash your hands when you're finished.”

Eje makes it back to camp, her hands red from the cold creek water. Salaya and Octave are watching the birds flit through the trees and tossing them crumbs. “I'd love to know what the birds are talking about.” says Salaya. “They're probably saying 'why can't you come up here and fly with us?', and laughing because we don't have wings. I bet it's wonderful to be a bird and have no worries, just eat grubs and fly all day.”

The team boils water and eats stale biscuits and bread, the breakfast far less appealing than last night's supper. Then the campfire is doused and it's time to go.

Dawn turns to morning, then to noon. Eje is hot and grimy and miserable, but would rather dig another hole in the woods than admit it. Ariel and Salaya are walking side by side practically holding hands, and Octave is lagging behind again. “Where are the bandits anyway?” asks Eje.

“Once we get to the next village, they can point it out to us.” says Salaya, checking her map. “But it's also just possible that we run into them on the road.”

“So what can you do in combat, Octave?” asks Ariel. “I'll bet you're incredible.”

“I've certainly never been called incredible before.” says Octave. “But I suppose it's a matter of expectations.”

“But aren't you a top mercenary at Bladesbury?”

“That's unlikely, considering I joined it only a month ago. I'm afraid Ranim may have talked me up to you; I hope he didn't talk you up to me.” Eje, Ariel, and Salaya exchange looks. “As I said, I specialise in kinetic and wilds magic, though I have a few other tricks if pressed hard enough. Whatever you need, I'll try to do it to the best of my ability.” says Octave, no doubt not wanting to lower morale further. “I can manage things that don't exist in the deepest recesses of Ranim Harki's imagination. Not that that's an accomplishment to be proud of.”

“You don't seem to like him.” says Salaya.

“I don't think anyone does, including his mother.” says Octave. Salaya and Ariel giggle at this. “You're right to be sceptical of me. If Ranim Harki offered me a gift, I'd open it away from myself. When he said we should complement each other, I suspect he was hoping more than predicting. But there's no reason he has to be wrong. Strange or difficult people often work together in ways others can't.” Emboldened by this, the team walks on. Salaya is humming to herself, and soon Eje discussing the finer points of conjuration magic with Ariel, and whether someone could use it as a base and go straight to fire.

Soon they hear angry voices arguing in the distance. They get closer and the voices get louder. Then the team rounds a corner, and just beyond a grove of poplars, a small caravan sits at a standstill. Figures argue and donkeys bray as barrels and crates are unloaded off the four carts. “What's this then?” asks Eje stepping up. The figures turn toward them, and only then does she realise that there are two distinct groups, one with their swords out, and one at sword-point.

“Good travellers, help us, please.” implores one man from the latter group. “We're only poor merchants

trying to make our way.” He's interrupted by a rough shove.

“What's this then? That's what I should be asking you.” A man in a chainmail shirt, the only visible armour, approaches Eje, sword pointed at her neck. Out of the corner of her eyes, she can see Ariel moving behind her to support and Salaya circling to the side for a clear shot. She can't tell where Octave is, but there's no time to worry about it. She surveys the robbers: seven of them, swords, all men. They match the description.

“On authority of the King, you are all hereby under arrest for robbery.” Eje says. “Put down your swords and come peacefully.”

The bandit looks her up and down. “I don't think so, lassie.” he chuckles. “You all look pretty, but you stink like you fell in a campfire, and look it too.” Salaya crosses her arms and frowns. “In fact, the only nice thing on you lot that I like is that shiny necklace. Hand it over.”

Eje fingers the gold chain, a gift from her father. “I don't think you understand how this works.” she says. “There's no room for negotiations. You're the bandits. We're the team sent to round you up.”

“Come on.” the bandit pleads. “We're not really so bad. We're just a bunch of friends, not unlike yerselves, who fell on hard times. We need those boxes of silks just to make an honest living.”

“They're cotton, not silk.” calls an indignant merchant, poking his head out of an emptied cart. “And we're the ones trying to make a living honestly.”

“Stow it, hauler.” the bandit slurs back at him. “Whatever it is, it's ours now. No sense arguing about it.”

“I don't think so.” says Eje. She steps forward again and the bandit takes a step back. “Come on, now. Put the sword down.” He spits on the ground, but the sword stays level. In an instant, the magic roars to life and Eje strikes, knocking the sword out of the astonished bandit's hand. She aims a second blow, and the shadows race around her hand, enveloping it and lashing out, but this time it strikes a solid barrier and shatters, leaving her bare arm in range. He grins and grabs at it, but he isn't the only one with support. His hand smacks into Ariel's shield like a solid wall and he yelps in pain. They both step back, but the bandit's patchwork warding magic can't hold out long. As the bandit stoops to grab his sword, Eje strikes again, this time at range. The smoky magic rushes through her hands and lashes like a whip across the bandit's face. He yells something, but Eje can't hear him over the roar of magic beating in her temples like drums. A burst of incandescent fire arcs over their heads. Salaya must have finally decided to act. The bandits are scattering before the onslaught, running into Ariel's glowing net. Eje isn't fast like Brant and his vigour magic, but she's nimble, dodging in and out, lashing at the legs of fleeing bandits and sending them tumbling to the ground. Something collides with her back and she whips around to see another bandit fall at her feet. Then, Octave is there before either of them can react, grinding her boot into the man's sword hand, pressing it down as he tries in vain to pull away. His face contorts, his eyes water. Eje kicks him in the head and he lies still.

Rounding up the bandits is easier than Eje thought it would be. The merchants, seeing the way the battle has gone, spring into action and grab the one or two that have broken out of the walls of fire and light blocking their path. Octave grabs another one from behind like a cat grabbing a kitten by the scruff and pitches him onto the ground. “Where's the box?” asks Ariel.

“I've got it in here.” Eje reaches into her pack and pulls out their box for the mission. “Here it is. Seven bandits with swords.” She walks over to the bandit in chainmail, his face red and scored, his clothes singed. “Hey, get up. Your name is Eigan, isn't it?”

“No. You've got the wrong person.” he sulks, staring at the ground.

Eje punches him in the face. “Really? I'll ask again. I'm looking for an Eigan, and I'm going to find him one way or another.” She winds up and kicks him in the solar plexus.

“Eje!” exclaims Salaya. “Don't do that. It's cruel.”

“What?” Eje winds up for another kick and the bandit cowers. “I'm interrogating.”

“We can interrogate without beating them.” says Salaya. She pushes Eje aside. “Here, have some water.” The bandit takes a cautious sip and washes the blood from his face.

Eje sighs from behind Salaya. “Lord Wolfsong of the Empty Forest, is that you?”

“Aye, that's me.” he says, perking up. “Lord Wolfsong was given to me by me mother, ye see-”

“Take this.” Eje grabs the small enchanted seal in the box, dips it into ink, and stamps his face. A black circle with an 'E6', for minor banditry, in it covers his left cheek. “That will stay with you until it's removed at the nearest city prison. For your own sake, I suggest you find one quickly.” Eje chuckles to herself at her wit. She darts about again, this time stamping each bandit's face once as Ariel and Salaya gather up their swords.

“Very rude to such a miserable lot as us.” bemoans Lord Wolfsong. But neither he nor his men fight back anymore, recognising their defeat and no doubt afraid of further consequence. As they slink away, one of the merchants approaches the team.

“Thank you, misses, for your heroism.” he beams as the rest of his caravan reloads their stolen goods, a few of the crates scorched, but all still intact. “You've saved our lives, and better, our accounts. None of us can thank you enough. If you ever should need anything, just ask for Siegerald and the Grey Company Merchants, at your service.”

There are a few more formalities. Ariel takes down a signed statement from the merchants into the team's official logbook, which looks far better with its first page now full with the details of the success. “That's a job well done.” says Eje. The bandits' camp a few hundred paces off the road is nearly devoid of loot, but they take what few coins they have, and then they're off for a final time. The merchants are already away in the distance, wheels squeaking and donkeys hee-hawing. Even the trees feel looser, less enclosing as they stroll back down the road. The bandits are no doubt trying to remove the seals, but they'll eventually realise it's impossible and drive themselves to the city to beg for lenient sentencing. Those things can really hurt after a while.

“I think that went excellently for a first time.” says Salaya with a small cheer. “I don't mind telling you all, I wasn't feeling great yesterday, but it's all turning around today. I'm feeling great. We really could become a top team.” Eje gives her a big smile, the war game forgotten. Even the afternoon sun overhead feels warm instead of hot.

“Eje,” says Octave, “didn't you hear my warning back there?”

“What warning?”

“That bandit who snuck up on you.” says Ariel. “You must have missed it during the fight.”

“I yelled it at you.” says Octave. “But you didn't hear somehow. You're fortunate Ariel was there to trip him up.”

“What do you mean?” asks Eje.

“It was real close.” says Ariel, almost in a whisper. “He was coming at you. I sort of froze up, but Octave yelled to get our attention, and it was just in time. Did you miss it?”

“I couldn't hear anything over the magic, you should know that.” says Eje. But Ariel's face tells her that she doesn't know that. “You know, the sound of magic. Right, Salaya?”

“Yes.” agrees Salaya. “It's hard to hear these things when channelling magic.”

“What are you talking about?” says Ariel. “Magic isn't that loud.”

Eje stops. So does the rest of the team. “What do you mean, magic isn't that loud? It's deafening. Like drums beating in your head.”

“It's like a never-ending roar of power, the stronger the magic, the louder the roar.” offers Salaya.

“No, what do you mean?” asks Ariel, doubling up on their confusion. “Magic isn't that loud. It's quite gentle, like a creek or a breeze. If you really concentrate, it's softer still.” They stand there, not sure what to say. “Is it supposed to be different for everyone?” asks Ariel eventually. It isn't, is it? Thinks Eje. Does she know something we don't?

“No.” says Octave. “It isn't. Or it shouldn't be much different if you're taught correctly. The best mages from Three Peaks and Muse, you called yourselves?” She gives her head a gentle shake. “This is why I don't like schools. Did you not learn to control your magic?”

“Of course we did.” protests Salaya.

“And yet you can't hear over it.” says Octave. “You've learned to ride a horse, but you don't know what a saddle is. How do you expect to ride without hurting tailbone? Your so-called teachers have much to answer for.”

“Our teachers were excellent.” snaps Eje, forgetting her previous attitude toward Octave.

“Then prove it.” demands Octave. “Call on your magic, but control it.”

“Fine.” Eje focuses, and feels the familiar beat of magic energy in her head. Octave's lips are moving, but the noise is too great; her words are distant noises, like listening to someone cry over a great chasm.

Somehow Ariel was able to overcome this? It's not possible. Magic explodes in frustration around Eje, dark smoke obscuring her entirely until even she can't see beyond it. When it finally clears, Octave is watching her.

“Well? What did I say?”

“It doesn't matter.” says Eje. “I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't care. We showed what we could do back there. It was all under control.”

“Indeed.” says Octave. “Against a pack of bandits so inept I'm surprised they weren't thrashed by the caravan donkeys. But beating them isn't your goal, is it? You want to get stronger, don't you? This is where it starts. You need to control your magic, not merely throw it around at people.”

But Eje has had enough. “If the bandits were so weak, why didn't you take them down yourself? What did you even do the entire fight? Yelled and stepped on someone's hand? I didn't need you there for that; nobody did.”

“You looked like you had it under control.” says Octave.

“That's right. And don't you forget it, because we will again next time. Try to be a little more useful before you start criticizing.” Eje is spoiling for a fight, but Octave merely nods and gazes off to the side of the road again, this time watching a pair of deer browse in the woods, watching them warily. Eje fumes in silence as Octave slowly falls behind again.