Zara was sitting on the wooden trellis, her legs gently dangling in the air. In her back, the Bazaar was boiling. Citizens and Guardians were running, their arms loaded with wrapped packages and colorful decorations. Discussions went on and on. Laughter was intermingled with frying noises from the ramen bar.

The Guardian's head stood up and gazed at the Dawning crystal, shining like a thousand jewels in the night. All around her, a light snow swirled at the whim of the icy north wind.

"Good morning, Zara. "The voice flowed through her like a glass of cool water.

"Ikora!" She didn't hear the Warlock approaching. Red with embarrassment, she hurried down from her perch. Koryl winked at her, as if to say, "I told you that would happen!"

I know you don't like people getting close to your stuff," apologized Zara. We didn't stay long..."

"Judging by the snow cover on your shoulders, you haven't moved for at least two hours." She could not miss a thing. Her face cracked with a smile. "This is the time to celebrate, I think I can forgive you for a little mistake. Where did you come from?"

"Well, we were coming back from the Dream City, and came across Eva Levante. She told us, and Zara cleared her throat to imitate the old woman's voice: Ikora's space saddens me. Seeing all these decorations around her, isolated from the festivities... Please invite the Dawning at our Vanguard!"

"At first, I replied that you probably refused to decorate for a good reason, but you know Eva when she has something on her mind... So, I took some lanterns to hang them here, and then..." Her gaze turned back to the crystal. "I ... got lost."

"I see." The Warlock observed for a moment the colored paper works highlighting the metallic edges of her instruments. "Usually, I take care of it myself, but I had to leave the Tower for a while. How about a cup of tea as a thank you?"

Zara saw Ophiuchus emerge from behind the shoulder of her Guardian. The Ghost swung encouragingly.

"Gladly."

The two Warlocks went silently to Ikora's quarters, leaving their Ghosts to go about their affairs. Zara had already been there a few times, and noticed that every book, every data pad was still in its place. Her host invited her to sit down and boiled an infusion.

"How is Petra? she asked, placing a warm cup in Zara's hands."

"She's exhausted, even though she tries to hide it."

"Who wouldn't be in her place?"

The Warlock nodded slowly. "I think she appreciates our gifts, though. I set up a small distribution effort with a few Guardians, to give the Corsairs something else to think about." She raised her head. "What about you, Ikora? Why were you missing, if not intrusive?"

"I visited our friends on Luna and Mercury. Eris is recovering slowly, thanks in part to our efforts. I think I even saw her smile when a group of Titans offered her an assortment of cookies." Ikora's gaze turned to the window and to the pale moon in the sky. "She's going through a lot."

"And Osiris?"

"It's... complicated. Between Saint's return and the problems he encountered in the Forest, I don't know what to think. I'd rather not talk about it."

Zara respected the silence of the Guardian and plunged her lips into the fragrant beverage. It was scalding hot.

"Zara, why were you waiting at the Bazaar?"

The questioning was unexpected. "Uh... I was looking at the crystal, and a question came to me. For you."

"I am all ears."

"How do you create such a complex assemblage of Light? I don't pretend to have your experience, but I feel completely unable to do such a thing."

"How do you appeal to the Light, Zara?" Ikora's dark eyes planted themselves in hers. "What do you feel when you summon the Trance?"

Zara leaned back and placed her hands in front of her face, palms up. She concentrated and described in detail what was going through her mind when small electric arcs appeared between her knuckles. She was not trying to control the Light, but was acting as a conduit, a lightning rod in the middle of the storm, and she let the power flow through her.

"That's what makes you a Warlock." Ikora put the back of her hand on the table and a Void sphere erupted from thin air. "The Titans see the Light as a muscle to be trained. The Hunters, as a tool to be sharpened. We see it as it is, and act like the valve holding the pressure of a dam."

"... And each of these three visions is right and wrong at the same time," Zara recited, recalling her teaching. First and foremost, the Light is what we make of it."

"That's right. But something is missing to complete this lesson. Now explain to me how you pull the Dawnblade out of its sheath."

From her head, Zara tried to reproduce the gestures she was performing when she invoked the Daybreak. She allowed her soul to ignite, and her body to become the hearth of the Solar Light. A pair of wings unfolded behind her back. Then a fiery blade appeared in her outstretched hand, cutting through the Darkness.

"I..." The Warlock hesitated, not being able to get her hands on the key to the process. "I don't know. I think of a sword, and a sword appears. Yet I let myself go to the Solar Fire; I should have no control!"

"The secret is right here." Ikora closed her hand, then reopened it, and a miniature model of the Dawning crystal winked into being, adorning the piece with silvery reflections. "The Titans call the Light as an extension of their bodies. A desire for protection becomes a shield, a wish for power transforms their fist into a thunderbolt. The Hunters use their memory and instinct to forge a knife or a gun. Warlocks use their imagination, their subconscious. Mastering one's own mind is a difficult task, but once we know how to shape the Light to our will, our only limits are the ones we set for ourselves."

The crystal divided into a multitude of inch-sized flakes, all different and more sparkling than each other.

"Give it a try."

Zara obeyed and put her hand on the table like her mentor. She searched for a simple shape, and focused on every detail, calculating the position of each point, clearing her mind of any distractions. A crackling spark appeared in the palm of her hand. She made two more sparks appear, and then withdrew and closed her fist.

Ikora observed her without saying a word, her face perfectly impassive.

She thought back to the Dawn Blade. A sword was certainly a simple shape, but there were too many details on its surface for it to be the fruit of her simple concentration. Ikora had spoken of imagination. If she were able to dream of a sculpture, she could let her mind take care of the construction.

Zara opened her hand again and invoked the Light. Four stars connected by sparkling arcs swirled above the table, forming a perfect tetrahedron. A victorious smile illuminated the Warlock’s face, who made a cube appear, then an octahedron.

"You quickly understood. Congratulations, Zara." Ikora got up and put her chair back exactly where she had taken it. A smile appeared on her lips: "After a few centuries of training, perhaps you will be able to take care of the Dawning crystal."

Zara's satisfied mine vanished, as did her sculpture, as she suddenly realized the abyss that still separated her from the Warlock Vanguard.

"We'll see," she replied defiantly. Thank you for the lesson, Ikora. And Happy Dawning."

"Happy Dawning, Zara. Please be careful not to scare the citizens of the Tower with your lightning."