Minona squared up to the training dummy once more, thoughts of the forum’s events driving away her exhaustion as she swung.

Lightning coursing down her sword and arcing into the ground. Rhyme’s fireball bursting against her chest, stopped only by her chainmail. Alu and that vampire’s poisonous whispers worming their way into her head. Staring a vampire down, her sword hand stuck to the slippery-sharp mass of strings as if glued.

Is any of this sword practice going to help you if you just get your mind turned against you again? Are you a dog that craves a leash, stumbling as soon as your lady isn’t there to keep an eye on you?

Minona swung too hard and the blade bit through the straw padding to the wooden post underneath. She dropped out of her stance to wrench it back out, and checked the edge. Desiderata was unharmed, of course, but it was a good habit to have.

Sloppy. God would only guide her blade if she had proper control of it.

And God was still with her. He had still protected her and Jacqueline even when Malachi’s gifts faltered. She could rely on that, even in these dark lands.

There had been good times at forum as well. Commanding a gargoyle’s attention while Damian circled around behind it. Fighting back-to-back with Jacqueline against the Ironbloods. Hunting in the woods with Callie and Alfred and Tiffany.

And it was good to be back in a soldier’s camp. She wasn’t familiar with the Rennet county Rogalt these soldiers spoke, but the cadence was familiar and she could laugh along with the jokes.

Minona sheathed her blade – better to stop now than to make a more serious mistake – and started on cool-off stretches.

The weather was finally turning, breaking the grip of frost at least for a little while. The sun’s heat draped across her shoulders and brought a prickle of sweat under her armor.

She lived. Her lady lived. There was still time to recover, to train, to face the next threat stronger.