From The Mage and the Royal by Laura Knight ©2004
From her vantagepoint on the hill, she could see the entire courtyard. She could see all three bonfires, a triangle in a square. She could see the line of village animals, west of the courtyard, wending its way around the wise woman who blessed them all for the coming year. She could even see the archery range just outside the east courtyard wall. She turned her focus to the main gates on the southern wall as an enchanting young man strode through them. She couldn't see the color of his eyes, but his cloak was purple and his hair was light. She observed him.
He scanned the crowd in front of him. A few people called out to him, and he waved to them or bowed his head or simply smiled. He slipped into the crowd and mingled with some mages. He visited many booths, buying a turquoise scarf and something from the jeweler. Mala decided to sit down. It seemed this young man was here to enjoy himself, even though he did glance at the gates every few minutes. She watched him eat a hearty lunch and then share his dessert with three small children whose clothes didn't fit properly. Hunger pains gnawed at her stomach, but she ignored them. She still needed to watch this man from her vision.
After he finished his lunch, her charming man watched the young men from the village leap over the bonfires for good luck. Mala watched as her young man removed his cloak, tucked his flared pants into his shiny black boots, rolled up his sleeves, and took a running leap over the first bonfire. The crowd cheered. He sprinted over to the next bonfire and leaped that one, too. The cheers grew louder, even though many other young men had made the same two jumps all morning. The third bonfire was much higher and wider than the first two. No other man, young or old, had jumped over that bonfire yet. Mala's charming young man sauntered over to the third bonfire. He counted his steps as he walked around the large fire. Several young ladies reached out to him and asked him not to jump that one; he could get burned. "Only if I miscalculate the jump," he responded and winked at his concerned audience. Mala had focused her energies on eavesdropping. He then walked about thirty paces away from the bonfire. The ever-growing crowd parted for him. He whispered a prayer to the Ebhlinne, a goddess of Midsummer and of fire magick, took three deep breaths, and then sprinted toward the bonfire. The courtyard fell silent; even Mala held her breath. Then he soared into the air as if pushed by a great wind. The flames of the bonfire licked his shiny boots as he hurdled it, but he landed safely on the other side and took two steps to right himself. The air exploded with cheers. Mala's breath came out in a huff. The young man bowed to his audience as four young ladies brought him his cloak. He thanked them each and then ladled himself a drink of water out of the nearby well.