Moonlight filtered in from above, warmed by the flickering fire in the hearth, and the light stones in sconces on the walls that blazed and pushed back the dark on the longest night of the year. Laurel lifted a wine glass and looked out over the sect. It was getting to the point that the rotunda could barely hold them all. For now they were packed in, cramped but happy.

"We've come far in the last few years.From ashes, the Eternal Archive has become something new. Something incredible. You all are part of that ascent, and I couldn't be prouder to call myself your Sectmaster."

Light cheers met her pronouncement. Some of the more advanced students expressed their enthusiasm by firing out techniques and generally making a spectacle of themselves. Of course, they knew what happened next.

"The world is a dangerous place, and only getting more so as our enemies build their strength. We rise to meet them, to stop their march towards domination. For ourselves, our country, and the world writ large.

"To that end, it's time for gifts!"

The most recent crop of new students took their cues from the original group and joined in on the cheering that time. Along with the other sect officers, Laurel passed out small wrapped gifts, each in a uniform matte black paper, tied with silver ribbon. For their novices, it was easy. Pretty much any cultivation resource would be useful. For their initiates, especially those further along in their cultivation, it was slightly trickier. She had made an effort in those cases to match the gift to the mana aspect, as much as they were able.

Martin caught the box she tossed to him without looking. Higher level cultivation resources were in short supply, and strictly speaking, the two of them weren't entitled to the same gifts from the sect. Instead the two of them had taken to trading the same box back and forth each solstice, filled with whatever they could find.

She watched as Martin ripped the paper off and open the box, only to snort and choke on his own laughter. He snapped the lid closed again before Lucy's questing eyes could get a peek, and slipped it into his storage tattoo.

"Where did you even find that?" he asked, still chuckling.

"I was out with Maria and Kat. It's quite impressive the range those two can come up with."

"Impressive, frightening, same thing really," Annette said as she joined them.

With her she brought a tray of teacups, a shockingly red liquid steaming inside.

"Who?" Laurel asked. Rebecca had surprised them all with an actual interest in tea blends over the last couple of years, since her first foray into the art while dueling with Gabrielle. Most of the time they were perfectly pleasant. On the other hand, a few of the initiates had taken it upon themselves to resurrect the lost science of alchemy. Supplemented with modern chemistry. The results were less than compelling, but she and Martin were their most reliable testers, sturdy enough to survive whatever happened. Poor Cooper could also be called upon in a pinch with the natural resistance his mana aspect provided for most toxins, but resistance didn't preclude side effects.

"Rebecca," Annette answered. "The mad scientists are taking a break for the holiday."

"I'll drink to that," Martin muttered.

They all took a cup and gently clinked them together, Adam appearing to grab the last off the tray. A searing spice flooded Laurel's palette and continued down her throat. More cinnamon than anyone needed and perhaps chili powder as well? She forced it down, keeping her face calm. The careful lack of expression on Martin's face told her he was doing the same thing, avoiding any sort of reaction. Annette coughed, spraying the air with a mist of tea, while Adam went in for another sip.

"Not her best," Laurel managed with a straight face.

"No," Annette said, rasping after she recovered. "Not for me I think."

"I like it," Adam said, tossing the rest back.

"Of course you do, it's as scratchy as you are," Annette fired back.

The students had dispersed after the gifts and Rebecca was far enough away to be spared the mixed reaction. Laurel took the moment of relative peace to observe and revel in her own feelings, while the others made more small talk.

They had come so far. In each technique mastered, in every mission accomplished, in all the feats and follies, she saw herself and her own influence. Propping them up through the lows, and lifting them higher than they could soar on their own. And providing a safe place to land when they came back down. The sect had blossomed, in large part to her work. Egotistic, maybe. But also was viscerally satisfying, in a way she didn't realize was within her grasp. From a soldier and a warrior, doing what she was told when needed, and whatever she wanted the rest of the time, to someone willing and able to shoulder the burden for others.

The absolute best part was seeing her earliest students shine. Their cultivation had exploded in the years since their aspecting. All had found new ways to push themselves, and had grown beyond her wildest dreams because of it. For a sect without the vast resources and deep wells of knowledge of their predecessors, it was far more than respectable.

Laurel swayed to the side as Martin hip-checked her.

"Enough contemplation, this is a party," he said. "Drink your awful tea and join in, L."

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She toasted and followed the directions. Her most senior students had been quiet for too many minutes in a row. They were up to something. She weaved between groups of sect members, ducking beneath a few gesticulating arms and narrowly avoiding getting pulled into an argument about the best cultivation spots in the capital. Especially since both students were wrong, the best spot was above the dome. They would figure it out eventually.

"Now what do we have brewing over here, hmm?"

Rebecca perked up. "You tried the tea? What did you think? Gabby was a fan."

"Was she?"

The initiate in question showed no signs of deception as she nodded in response. The earnest opinion was further borne out when she picked up and sipped on her own steaming cup.

"I think it's more suited to those with a taste for fire," Laurel said, as diplomatically as she could.

"Oh," Rebecca said, her lips pulling into a slight frown as she stared at her own cup.

Escaping the awkward encounter, Laurel settled in to listen to the story she had interrupted. Helene went back to her narration, having only returned that morning and not yet done sharing all of her exploits. Seeing the quiet girl so confident in her skills brought a smile to Laurel's face. Their highest-ranking member of the Hunter's guild was always flitting in and out of the city. This winter was turning out to be no different, Helene was scheduled to leave again in a week for another spirit beast cull of a less populated area. The others had taken to venturing further afield as well, especially Rebecca, but more often as guards or on their own adventures.

After a few more minutes of listening, Laurel slipped away to talk to some of the others. Gone were the days she neglected half the sect. She spent time with each of her members, from their newest recruits, only a few weeks into their cultivation journey, all the way to Martin, with whom she took a moment to toast their fallen friends. It was cozy and joyful, Laurel was so content it was almost disgusting.

Later, when midnight approached, she stood in front of the members again, this time to announce their goals and news for the upcoming year. A pulse of sparkling golden mana rose from the Core pedestal, signaling the rest of the sect to quiet down and attend to her. An image flashed through her mind. Her, standing on a table in order to be seen from the back of the crowd. She forced the laughter not to show on her face.

"Stars' fortune on the Solstice!"

The crowd in front of her echoed the traditional blessing back.

"As we usher in the new year, we have a few announcements, some good, some more troubling. I am fully confident you will make the most out of all of them.

"Let's get the bad news out of the way first. I'm as tired of saying it as you are of hearing it. Tensions with Laskar are getting worse. It hasn't hit the papers yet, but expect economic sanctions soon. Now what that means for us is more of the same. We keep cultivating the local Cores, and we keep getting stronger. But this is going to upset whatever false equilibrium we've reached in the last few years." Laurel paused and took a moment to make eye contact with the strongest of her students. They would be pivotal in whatever came next, they were too powerful not to be. "We're catching up, and they can't let that stand. Be on the lookout. We don't know how they'll respond, but we can be assured they will."

Silence greeted the grim pronouncement, until a shrieking whistle broke through, spiking into everyone's eardrums. Leander's current project of using his air attunement to speak was further along in enthusiasm than appreciable skill.

"On to happier topics," Laurel continued after the rest of the room recovered. "We've decided that we will be hosting a tournament this summer, open to any cultivators residing in Merista or its allies. Combat focused."

The cheering from earlier returned. A few of her students, Leander and Gabrielle most prominently, had been demanding a "real" tournament since they aspected their mana. Now that they had some cultivation to speak of, it was time. That it was a convenient time to get some of their allies together was just an added bonus.

"There will be a mortal competition as well, for anyone without active meridians that wants to try out. Now you won't be given special treatment, but I expect you to do the sect proud."

Major announcements done, she released the sect to rest or continue celebrating as they would. A few filtered out, those that remained were quieter, calming down or cultivating before they headed off to bed.

*******

"New year, new to-do lists!" Annette's sing-song voiced heralded her arrival as she entered Laurel's office and made herself at home in the sitting area. A fire flickered in the hearth while a steaming teapot capped off the cozy scene. The boys wandered in a few minutes later, having lingered over breakfast after the late night. The rest of the sect enjoyed a morning off from group lessons while the officers gathered for their strategy session.

"First thing, we need someone to convince Devon to actually commit to redoing the arena for the tournament. And acting as a judge."

"Let me take that one," Laurel said, before any of the others could answer.

Everyone else stopped what they were doing to stare and pass along some speaking glances.

"Trust me, he'll say yes."

"I'll mark one of the kids down as a backup, just in case," Annette said.

"Good idea," Adam muttered, not nearly as quietly as he thought.

"Okay, that's sorted. I'll be talking to Sabrina about the logistics at our next meeting. If we time it right we can make the whole thing coincide with the end of her term as Guild Leader."

"Who's up next then, not me?" Martin lounged in one of the armchairs Laurel had sourced from the same artisan that supplied the Velvet Room she'd first visited with Kat and Maria. Every time she saw a show she was impressed, and decided the same would hold for anyone who came to sit in her office. At least anyone that wasn't directed to the intentionally uncomfortable chair in front of her desk.

"The Guild members who qualify will be voting," Adam answered. Laurel gathered that it was a particular point of wounded pride that his original leadership determinations had been rewritten at the Guild's founding.

"Oh? Fun, who are we voting for, I bet –"

"You're voting for Pavan. Or else." Annette's tone brooked no argument as she cut Martin off. "Most of the sect can't vote, it requires enough cultivation advancement so a flood of new members can't be leveraged for a takeover. Which means no deviating."

"Aye aye ma'am" Martin said with a salute.

That set the tone for the rest of the meeting. Annette would bring up a project they were working on, and the others would accept their tasks with good grace and a slew of jokes.

"Last up, the most recent batch of potions was, I'm quoting Martin here, 'not outright poison'. How far away are we from selling anything?"

Laurel and Martin made matching faces. "Quite a ways. Months at minimum, years more likely."

"Then I'll leave it out of my meeting with Grimley when I visit the Merchant Guild. I know why we did it, but I cannot wait for the day we don't have to give that man a cut of each sale."

"I thought our finance things were mostly good now," Laurel said, her tone raising at the end to make it a question.

"We are. It's just a bit tight with the newest recruit class. The market for foraged mana-infused items, or beast parts is growing, but it's slow. We're leaning pretty heavily on the manufactured items, which of course means Grimley is thrilled with his cut. Nothing for it unless we start some new product lines."

When Annette's list wrapped up, Laurel expected the rest of them to filter out and start the rest of the day. Instead, Adam and Annette started nudging each other until Laurel was forced to question it.

"Something else?"

"We've been thinking," Adam said.

Laurel waited for any further explanation to appear, but none was forthcoming. "And? About what?"

"You were in your mid 90s when you woke up, right? And you were in stasis for a long time so that doesn't really count. So if you do the math…"

Annette picked up where he trailed off. "We think you're turning 100 this year, and we want to have a party!"

"Oh. Huh. Yeah I guess that's about right. I honestly lost track."

"Perfect. I'll take care of it."

"No need to go overboard, birthdays were less of a thing for us." Laurel gestured vaguely between herself and Martin, who was just looking thrilled at escaping his own celebration.

"Come on L, let them have some fun for our fearless Sectmaster."

"If you must." She conceded with grace. There were a thousand and one lessons she'd learned in her short tenure as Sectmaster, but when to concede with grace was maybe the most important.

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