"It can get very complex of course, but the basics of spellwork are actually quite intuitive," Numair explained, not looking up. "Imagine being able to fix things by making your own spell to do it! It's quite freeing to be able to do that sort of thing yourself, I find."

Hawk wasn't looking at whatever he was doing, though. Instead he gazed at Numair in a sort of captivated silence, the late sun barely hiding the color in his face.

Vlad stood in the garden, chewing bubble gum and watering the tomatoes, on another hot day.

Liya gave a sharp yelp of pain, having just managed to burn the side of her left hand on a piece of cherry hot metal. She sucked her breath in through her teeth, leaving the metal to cool in front of the forge while she inspected it. It was dark in the room except for the light of the forge itself, and she had to tilt her hand into the firelight to get a look at the angry burn forming on it.

She couldn't help the flood of sensory memories that came from the burn and the firelight, of her legs being on fire, of trying to pull herself away from the flames, of her hands pulling her through the dark grass. Tears welled up in her eyes anyway, as she bit her lip and swallowed them back down. The nerves in her hand lit quietly with a cool pale bluish light, and just like that the burn was gone.

She straightened up and wiped her eyes on her arm, as something made a shuffling noise behind her.