Excerpt: PACIFICA: The Wheel of the Year

While they waited for their food, James had a suddenly serious question for his father.

'Dad, is it fair for us, who are so lucky, to be playing and having French fries while others are suffering and imprisoned and running for their lives?' he signed, his hands graceful, and yet signing slowly, for his question was quite important to him.

P'tah did not answer the question immediately or glibly. James waited patiently while his father gathered his thoughts. P'tah never rushed the answers to his children's questions, which James had come to deeply appreciate. Soon, P'tah touched the back of his son's hand.

'I think, James, if we did not come out and have French fries, and fly on brooms, and laugh together, our town would be as thoroughly destroyed as the ones that have been burned with blackfire. The Dark forces would be just as victorious, and we would have handed it to them.'

P'tah gestured out the window, and even around the restaurant. 'You see some damage already. Fear, mis-trust of strangers, no-one lingering over their shopping. Some of the limits are necessary and practical, such as not venturing into the woods or waters, and not flying your broom over anything but town. But the fear that makes people stare sideways at one another is a form of poison, and those who choose to come out and do things anyway are fighting the battle in their own way. It isn't a wizarding duel, or fancy magic to impress, or great powerful magics, but it is every bit as important.'