“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”

- Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky

The next morning Mireille was roused by Vanessa again, her teeth much too bright for the sleep-deprived girl even if her smile was a mere hint.

Practicing her magic a bit before breakfast she spend the very early morning outside the cabin. It was still outside, the wind had ceased over the night. Small white clouds hung like bits of forgotten wool in the slowly brightening sky. The woods around here were relatively peaceful and only from afar did she spy a lumbering tree-being, she knew not what kind. The scent of pine and wet leaves accented the crisp mountain air.

After she had washed up, she went inside to look for her friend. After waking Alyssa who had been sleeping deeply, the latter made breakfast, and then it was time to get back to their daily travels.

The landscape gradually became less harsh, the temperature more pleasant.

Even if the surroundings were still wilderness, there were at least some signs of human habitation. A roofed hunting post here, some signs of logging activity there. They continued through the day, the continuous travels being a good training they were not as tired by days end. The dreaded flask helped too, if not for that they would not have withstood the training and the journey both.

The day passed.

When evening came Vanessa appeared with a friendly “Mae g’ovannen.” Which she explained, when asked, simply meant ‘well met’ in elven.

The training was harsh but fruitful even if the first large steps were followed by progressively smaller ones, the subject matter being complicated or difficult to grasp or both.

The night was spent outside, no cabin or shelter being available. The morning found them wet with dew and Mireille was grumpy for quite a while until Alyssa found a wild pear tree still bearing sour fruit which they then shared.

The first signs of a settlement were a logging camp, an active one this time. Several large men were dragging a tree trunk to a large wagon drawn by several oxen.

“Hey, there ladies!” One of the men spying the two called out. “All alone out here?”

Alyssa waved a bit shyly while Mireille looked at them critically and called. “Hello! We come from the pass. How far to the village?”

The same to greet them came over and said. “It's about an hour on foot. You could wait a moment and then come with us. What's that!?" He looked at Cyrus who was eating a small hare at the side of the road.

"Its my familiar, don't be alarmed! And we thank you, but we are in a bit of a hurry and with the village nearby there shouldn’t be too many problems ahead, am I wrong?” Mireille shot that down.

“Mh if you say so." He looked a bit unsure then shook his head. "No, you are right, the way to the village should be clear. But as young as you seem it would be best to have some company, no?”

“Thanks for the offer but the answer is still no.”

“Suit yourselves.”

The village was nothing special, with wooden hovels clustered around a central house, most likely of the village elder. Near the gate was a shrine to Irkonos and a smaller one at the well for a local spirit. The village was bustling with activity. Many women and children worked on cleaning some felled trees of their foliage and bark, which seemed to be destined for transportation farther afield. Cyrus who was none too fond of groups of people took this as his cue to jump for the lower branches of a small tree and tuck his head under his left wing.

"Lazy critter!" Mireille grinned.

"Let him have his way. It makes things more convenient for us. We will get him when we come back."

Then they went on into the village.

Alyssa and Mireille garnered a lot of curious looks. A stout, older woman, grey hairs outnumbering the brown, was washing some cloth beside the well as she spoke to them. She had a broad friendly face aged by the hardships of country living.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods? And both of you young girls at that. It is mighty dangerous it is.”

“I am a wizard's apprentice and Mireille here is quite good with that spear of hers. Thank you very much for being concerned about us. We aim to go to Kronenburg for my continued studies. I had heard good things about the academy of the arts there.”

The woman seemed to like the studious Alyssa and with a concerned but friendly mien further elaborated: “That I wouldn't know anything about, but be careful! On the way to Kronenburg, at least as far as I know, you have to pass by Grunewald.”

She looked a bit contemplative and then continued. “It's no secret but don’t go blabbing around what I tell you now. As you leave our county, the Gilded Summit, you will find that the free city and the surrounding nobles have their petty feuds, and when the big ones fight, the small ones suffer. The elder has decreed that no one of us is to travel alone, and when the wood is ready a troop of our strongest men comes along for added security. The danger here is more beasts of the two-legged sort if you know what I mean.”

Another younger woman carrying a load of clothing came over. Casting a warning look towards the one talking to Alyssa. “Gerda, don’t fill the young girl's head with nonsense. Yes, there are problems on the road. But it's not as if we knew the cause. If you want, you could wait a day or two, then the next delivery of lumber is probably ready. You could accompany the group.”

“We will think about it. Is there anywhere we could buy some supplies?”

“Yes, certainly. Go down this way, it's the house with the big barn.”

“Thank you! Have a good day.”

They walked down the small alley towards a larger house with the indicated barn. It was not exactly a tavern but close enough. In the barn could be seen some benches and a bar made by putting some planks over two barrels. They soon located a sleepy-looking rotund man who was only too happy to sell them some food. They ate a hot meal, delighting in the first properly cooked and seasoned food since Sorringen.

“What do you think? I say we don’t wait and risk it.” Mireille voiced her somewhat predictable opinion.

“I concur, the risk of there being someone sent after us is not high for the soldiers here, but I would fear someone from the temple chasing us over the border. So, yes, I am for continuing on alone.”

“Then it's decided.” Mireille drank down her watered-down beer making a bit of a face. “I always heard that the big towns have the worst beer but this here is not far off from taking the cake.”

“Why did you get a beer at all?”

“My mom would not tolerate it, so I wanted it because I usually would not get it. Does that make sense?”

“Mostly. I am not a fan of alcohol, bad memories of my father overdoing it.” Alyssa had a bleak look on her face.

Mireille rubbed her shoulder. “I won't do it again, anyway, it tastes like something indescribable and not the good kind!”

They set out after eating, Alyssa waved at the woman now finished with washing who nevertheless was still gossiping with the others at the well.

They collected the grumpy Cyrus who nipped at Alyssa's hands before acceding to her entreaties.

The road was well-trodden and free of plant growth making the traveling very pleasant in comparison to the mountain roads. The temperature was agreeable and the weather dry.

“It is as if the land is saying: “Come on in, make yourself at home!” Mireille joked.

“I don’t question it, there was always a possibility of this journey becoming less of a catastrophe, even if I did not want to hold my breath.” Alyssa smiled. “But don’t jinx it!”

While they were walking, Alyssa trained drawing small amounts of elemental energy and life force from the surroundings. She managed with difficulties, but there was progress. The marching they were doing did not help her concentration.

Mireille was sometimes lit with sparks and lightning webbed her figure then she would dash to and fro, agitating poor Cyrus and nearly giving Alyssa a heart attack. Her practice was going smoothly in comparison. She had been training for a few months already and simply had to add the exercises Vanessa designed and explained to her.

The lightning brand was not meant as a shortcut, the vampire girl had explained. Elves have time, so why would they need one?

It was meant as a supplement for the more martially inclined, sacrificing versatility for instinctive and near reflexive use on the battlefield. A warrior would not have to chant and gesticulate, all of that was pre-formed in the brand, they would only need to release the magic and then the effect would occur. This unmatched speed and ease of use were what made it feasible to use in melee combat in the first place.

And Mireille being an intuitive person who did not spend time questioning and investigating things was the perfect subject for this enhancement.

Two days passed.

They made camp, traveled, ate, refreshed their water supplies, met a hunter, bought some fresh meat for the suffering Cyrus who did not like jerky all that much.

There were few hints as to dangerous beasts, some old scratches on a tree, much too high or too deep for even a large bear, there was once a large winged being far off in the distance. But the region was reasonably well patrolled what with the border fortress and the war on the other side.

And it was on the third day, that they came to more well-traveled roads showing deep ruts from frequent vehicle traffic. An old signpost told them of the small town of Gildburg, the ‘capital’ of the county of the Gilded Summit. Straight ahead would be Grunewald then and to their left something called Graufurt, probably a town too.

They, following the advice of the washerwoman, took the road straight ahead. And as the sun was beginning to set, they heard only a short way ahead, the clashing of steel on steel and a pained scream.

The two looked at each other and wordlessly nodded. Mireille went before Alyssa as the two walked quickly but without running towards the commotion.

A group of soldiers, looking like mercenaries dressed in a more flamboyant style, sleeves puffed out with broad-brimmed hats sporting long feathers, were defending a young man who stood near a downed horse holding his probably broken arm.

Several rough-looking men were attacking them in melee, while some standing farther back shot their crossbows at them. The attackers were a motley group, desperate-looking younger men, with homespun tunics and some mail here and there, they wielded axes, maces, and short swords with some using shields. One for one they were no match for the professionals but the bandits outnumbered them four to one. Even with that advantage some of the attackers were already out of the fight. The defenders did not escape unscathed, nearly all were wounded and two of their number were lying on the ground bleeding from crossbow bolts sticking from their still forms.

Mireille quietly voiced “Sialysalethussar” and shortly after “Eralasselyanthinar”

Alyssa mouthed furiously “are you mad!” Then stretched both hands before her in concentration, the light seemed to brighten around them before dimming again, some leaves fluttering to the floor, brown and dead, the grass withered around her in a widening circle.

For a moment it seemed like a cloud had passed before the sun, then the darkness coalesced into a small sphere floating before her, she made a gesture with her left hand and the ball flew towards a crossbowman who was turning around after hearing something.

Like an iron shaving towards a magnet the dark missile curved towards his body and hit him. All color bleached from his face, his lips went grey, the eyes lost their luster and he stumbled once, then fell, still breathing shallowly but clearly out of the fight.

Mireille having activated both her spells, tightly gripped her spear, and with powerful strides, though slower than usual, she shortened the distance to another crossbow-wielder.

This one had been too focused on the battle before him to keep any attention to his rear and thus was quite surprised when the spear erupted from his stomach driven completely through from his back. His scream was cut short as lightning flared around the steel tip arcing over the body even scoring and blackening the dirt road. While steam rose from his silently opening mouth the crossbow fell from nerveless fingers.

Mireille was triumphant at this display and half-regretful that Vanessa was not here to witness her deed as she realized that the spear was well and truly stuck in the cauterized wound. Trying futilely to loosen it, even putting her foot to his back, she did not see another of the bandits turning towards her and with crossbow loaded already, he let the bolt fly hitting her in the upper left leg, the bolt driving in deeply from the short distance with a meaty thump. She cried out in pain and crumbled to the ground.

“Mireille!” Alyssa was furious and frightened. Gathering more power into her left hand, this time eschewing the slow gathering of life, she gasped in pain as the darkness once again formed, this time much more quickly and completely void of light. She pointed and the sphere shot forth flowing into the young bandit without harming his clothing or skin the eyes seemed to blacken for a moment as a wave of shadow undulated through the skin of the unfortunate man. The arms shriveled, the cheeks sunk and withered, a tooth broke loose and fell to the ground. And then the body hit the ground, lifeless.

The drain on her vitality was nevertheless somewhat mitigated by the presence of Cyrus, who bolstered her magical abilities.

Screams rang out as the nearer bandits saw the violent spectacle and the mercenaries, much more cool-headed, took full advantage laying into the distracted fighters and killing three in short measure blood soaked into the road.

Cyrus raised his wings and readied his stinger but was thankfully not needed.

Alyssa was in pain and light-headed from the overuse of her talents but managed to cast three firebolts in quick succession, holding two bandits at bay who tried to avenge the fallen.

One burst into flame, hit mid-torso, the other was badly burned on his arm while trying to shield his face taking him out of the fight, and one firebolt sailed along the road hitting naught but dirt.

She stumbled a bit then ran forwards falling to her knees, sliding towards Mireille not caring for the scrapes and damage to her skin and clothing.

“Mireille! Say something!” She removed the crossbow bolt with practiced hands, then pressed her right one to the wound singing the waters of life into being. Mireille muffled her pained scream with her sleeve, biting down on the leather cuff as blood spurted from the deep and ragged wound, the bolt had been meant for hunting with a broad tip.

Asandria laid her arms around her neck and softly sang along, greatly assisting the effect.

Glowing water gushed over and into the skin while staunching the bleeding and even removing the bruise that had formed.

“Idiot! Reckless maniac! What were you thinking? This is not training.” Tears fell as she hit the ground beside the fallen girl with her balled fist.

“Ouch.” Mireille opened one eye and then put her hand on Alyssas squeezing once. “Sister dear, I will survive.”

They were lucky that the remaining bandits had better things to do than care for the two unexpected reinforcements, the mercenaries had broken the ring around them and went on to subdue or kill one attacker after the other. The crossbowmen and some of the second line fled into the woods around the road.

Alyssa hugged Mireille who complained. “Ah, that hurts.”

“Be glad that it still hurts, it does not hurt nearly enough.”

“Ah, a sadist. I plead foul play. Help!”

The mercenary leader was a man in his late thirties with black hair, showing some grey, wearing a goatee plumed hat, and ruffled puffed-up sleeves and hose.

Having finished or driven away the last of the assailants, he strode over to them after having ascertained that his men were trussing the still living bandits.

“Well met, young ladies! Well met indeed. Could I trouble the healer, yes you, could you please help my men? I saw your impressive display and time is of the essence, I understand your worries, but I will guard your friend in your stead. Please?” He eyed Cyrus a bit apprehensively. The little wyvern was highly agitated and the stinger held over his head.

Mireille gave Alyssa a weak shove and said: “Go, as I said, I will survive, please go and help them.”

Alyssa placated Cyrus and stood up with some difficulty, the mercenary grasped her hand and pulled her up. He nodded towards the fallen. “Do what you can. I will be grateful for anything you can accomplish.”

Alyssa went towards the gravely wounded near the fallen horse and began to invoke the lifegiving waters. Blue and white light played over the trees surrounding the road, a soft rushing like a great but distant stream could be heard under the rustling of the leaves and the groaning of the wounded.

The young man with the broken arm sat near the other disabled, he was sweating and pale from the pain, the arm unnaturally twisted, the sleeve bloodied, hinting at an open break.

He wore fine but understated clothes in blue and dark grey. It seemed like a uniform of sorts, and his left breast showed a coat of arms and an emblem, the first was a bridge over a rushing river with two towers to the sides silver on blue, the other was a round patch with a tower piercing a star with runes surrounding both. He had blonde hair, some beginnings of a beard, and blue eyes.

She worked in silence, Asandria holding her shoulders as they both sang, sometimes the duet bled over into the real world leading to an otherworldly resonance. The wyvern strengthened her magic simply by being near.

After she had treated the dying and managed to stabilize them, she gave one of the mercenaries, a huge man with a cut across his forehead, some of her potions with instructions for their use. Then she went to the young lord, as that was what he seemed to be. “I will have to cut the sleeve, otherwise it will be much too painful.”

“Yes, I thought as much. Please, do as you must.”

“Take this piece of leather and bite down on it. Moving your arm will hurt, a lot.”

Nodding he did as indicated.

She cut the sleeve jostling his arm, which caused him to groan and nearly faint. After that, she called two mercenaries over to help steady him as she set the bone. This caused the poor boy to finally lose consciousness.

She sang the spells of mending and life until she felt herself drifting off to sleep. She shook herself and lifted her hands, the wound was closed but still tender looking and the arm was bruised black and blue, if lighter than it had been, from shoulder to wrist.

“Thank you very much for your care, my lady.” The mercenary leader steadied her as she wavered. “The names Lucien Caravar of Caravars Cavaliers, at your service. I can't thank you enough for your spirited assistance. If not for your intervention and later your competent treatments we might no longer be worthy to be called a company, if we were still alive that is.”

He bowed gallantly.

“We will make camp here so that we do not put more strain on the wounded. Would you care to join us?”

“I think we are in no position to refuse. Thank you, we will accept your offer.” Alyssa answered.

They cleared a bit of ground to the side of the road and with practiced ease erected a small camp. After all, had been set up Mireille was half-carried by Alyssa into one of the tents made available for their use.

Both of them were much too tired to have a proper conversation and after eating a bit of bread and cheese, postponing any further introductions, they went to sleep.

“What will Vanessa think of all that.” Was the last thought flitting through Mireille's head.