It was evening and the clearing at the center of the village was filled with people socializing, eating and together. Andy recognized some of the bandits from the encounter with Atnar earlier that morning. They had been fierce, malicious even, but now, in contrast, they were as relaxed as anyone could be, taking in the cool evening air under the twilight, in the glow of the hearth embers that radiated from the open-air pavilion behind them.The sweet fragrance of barbecue occasionally blew through the square from the smokers on one edge of the forest clearing.

Andy had fallen asleep and woken up after sunset, disoriented. It hadn't been difficult to find the crowd; the conversations were loud.

"Welcome," Morwen said as he emerged into the gathering. "How were your exercises? You took longer than I expected."

"Oh," Andy said. "They were… uh, good."

"You fell asleep, didn't you?" Morwen said, her lips forming a wry smile.

"How… how did you know?"

"You'll improve. I'm glad you got some rest at least," Morwen said.

The eating arrangement was communal and anarchical. There didn't seem to be any discernible roles. Many people gathered, eating, drinking, and conversing around makeshift standing 'tables,' little more than large barrels topped by slabs of wood. Others were preparing food, whether by the smokers on the edge of the clearing or in the more permanent-looking pavilion, its thatch roof resting on sturdy beams buried deep in the earth. A group of women were conversing together as they chopped onions, which, even in the outdoors, produced a pungent aroma that mixed with the smell of smoked meats.

"I'm starving," Andy said as his mouth began watering.

Morwen gestured to him to follow her, "I'm getting another plate," she said.

As they wandered through the crowd, Andy noticed a bandit from the earlier encounter. He was laughing at a table with his comrades. The bandit's eyes widened as they fell upon Andy. The bandit quickly turned his head around and covered his face, trying to hide himself from Andy without attracting too much attention, leaning in to whisper to his comrades. Soon, the whole table was alight with animated gesturing and a sea of hoarse whispers.

Andy and Morwen passed them. Andy did his best not to look over his shoulder at the gawking table of bandits, still speaking hushedly. He didn't want any trouble. He doubted anything serious would happen, but that didn't mean that there wouldn't be any conflict. He wanted to avoid anything that added more excitement to the night. He wanted to eat, drink, converse, and sleep pleasantly.

They went to a table that had something like brisket, some kind of fried nugget side dish, and a strange assortment of pickled vegetables. They served themselves on small tin plates.

"The group's over here," said Morwen, pointing to a standing table over by the edge of the woods.

They arrived at the table, setting down their tin plates. The group had already procured a large jar of water and some flimsy metal cups. Arlene, Kermit, and Sven were in the midst of eating their meals while PL rested at the edge of the clearing.

"Hey," Andy said, placing his plate on the table and smiling. "What are these fried things?"

"Hey!" Kermit said. "You were meditating so deeply, I couldn't wake you up!"

That's how she knew… Kermit tattled on me.

"Thanks for trying, bud," Andy said.

"These are fried mushrooms!" Sven said enthusiastically. He was absolutely tearing ass through a mound of them, his eyes delighted and his smile wide as he chewed.

Damn, it is great to see someone enjoy something like that, Andy thought.

"Don't sleep on these," Arlene said, holding up a fork with a pickled, round, yellow pepper. "Spicy, sweet, tangy… it's amazing.

"Oh nice," Andy said, looking down at his plate. He had, indeed, served himself a round, yellow pepper. Two, in fact.

He popped one into his mouth, biting down and pulling off the stem.

It was heavenly. The flesh of the pepper was plump and soft from the vinegar while the inner core and seeds provided a satisfying crunch. Upon biting it, Andy's mouth was filled with intense tangy, sweet, and salty flavors. The seeds provided a very measured amount of spice, nowhere near a jalapeño, even. It was just enough to make everything sparkle with heat.

The cool, breezy air, warm conviviality, and amazing flavors and aromas of the night relaxed Andy. He felt his shoulders fall slightly. And he felt that familiar feeling of regeneration, which always provided a kind of healthful euphoria humming in the background of his experience. It felt all the better because the last few days had moved at such a frantic pace. Even though it had been an ordeal getting kidnapped and transported here, this evening was too blissful to allow Andy to dwell on it. He felt his mind relax and become open to the moment.

"What's got you so happy?" Arlene asked.

"What?" Andy said, snapping out of his whimsy.

"You're just sitting there, staring at the stars, smiling with the biggest grin on your face," said Arlene.

"Well," Andy said, "it's a beautiful night. An absolutely gorgeous one. And… I don't know… everything is perfect."

"What do you mean everything is perfect?" Arlene said. "I mean, this food is good and all, and yeah, I guess those stars are bright, but we got captured by robbers, throwing us off our schedule for the quest. I'm not getting too worked up about it, but things are sideways right now, man."

"Yeah," Andy said. "I know all that. But I don't know. Things are ok right now. Right here."

Andy bit into a mushroom, the fried breading providing a satisfying crunch.

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"Don't worry about being thrown off schedule," Morwen said to Arlene. "Just enjoy the evening." Morwen shifted toward Andy. "That's the right attitude to have," Morwen said.

"Wait, what?" Arlene said. "Shouldn't we be more tactically aware? Like shouldn't we be keeping our problems in front of us so we can find solutions? Like think over them?"

"Yes," Morwen said. "Yes, you should, but you should not worry about them."

"I'm confused," Sven said.

"You should have your tactical situation in mind at all times," Morwen said. "For example, right now, I have clocked seven daggers in various boots out here. Those are just the ones I can see. The table of drunkards directly behind us has discussed whether they could rob us. In fact, it's been a topic of their conversation more than once."

A shot of adrenaline jolted Andy into a more alert posture, his shoulders tightening and his jaw clenching. He glanced sideways at the table, unable to see much out of his peripheral vision. He heard them shouting loudly and banging on the table, rattling the dishes and glasses before uproarious laughter overtook them. But he couldn't make out any of their words.

Morwen, on the other hand, seemed unbothered. She continued her serene discourse. "These are all things I am tracking, sure. But even though those threats surround us, so does this delicious food, so do our dear friends, so does the night sky. These are beautiful things. They soothe the soul. And soothing is part of healing. Fighters always need to make sure they're healed up as much as possible."

"Wait, they're going to rob us?" Kermit whispered.

"Of course not," said Morwen. "They would be going against Kresta's direct orders. And for such an egregious infraction, they'd almost certainly be banished, if not executed. They aren't going to try anything at all. They're just blabbering like perfectly harmless fools."

Andy relaxed a bit, but stayed alert. Any euphoria he had been feeling was now gone, replaced by anxious hyper-vigilance and elevated blood pressure. Morwen's assurances did little in the moment to assuage him.

"How can you track threats without worrying?" Arlene asked.

"Observation," Morwen said. "Observing everything, the good and the bad. The dangerous and the safe. The ugly and the beautiful. What you see, what you hear, what you smell and taste and touch. What you think. What you feel. The emotions in your body and everything thought in your mind and soul. And then you must encourage the emotions that are helpful and you must ignore the emotions that aren't. All this has a purpose for fighters: you can make much better, clearer decisions when you are in a centered, peaceful state. We cultivate peace because we need to make clear decisions, not rash ones."

"How can you tell what's helpful or not?" Arlene asked between bites of brisket. "If I knew someone was talking about robbing me, I'd think anxiety would be a helpful emotion. Right?"

"It would be," Morwen said, "if their words posed an imminent threat."

"They do, though, right?" Sven said. "They're literally threatening us over there. They're threatening to rob us."

"They're not threatening us," Morwen said. "They're not even speaking to us. They're over there cavorting like drunkards, spouting off. There's a big difference between idle talk and a threat. You have to use your rational mind to evaluate threat levels. As a fighter, we go into dangerous territory all the time. We have to be as objective as possible about the dangers we face, but we must also nourish our soul. Too much worry without rest wears the soul thin. An emotion of fear is not useful right now, since we have nothing to fear. It is much more important for us to enjoy beauty right now. Dinner is a time for rest, and if we can, we should."

"I didn't even hear them mention it," Andy said. "But now I'm nervous." He chuckled. Sven chuckled too, obviously empathizing.

"Don't be," Morwen said. "You have to save your nerves for the moment you need them."

***

The remaining evening in Bundybrook was pleasant, though Andy's nerves didn't lose their edge. The group ate and drank and talked late into the night, exchanging jokes and stories and planning the following morning's departure before retiring back to their shelters.

Andy split off from the group to sleep. He half-expected his things to be stole, making a mental bet with himself as he approached.

They were still there, his sword leaning against the wall and his pack tucked underneath it. The twig that he had meditated on earlier rattled, clicking against the floorboard as a breezy gust of wind disturbed it.

The twig is anxious, just like me, Andy thought to himself. He liked making dumb little jokes like that.

But then he found himself thinking more deeply on it.

As he considered the twig's motions, he realized something. The twig, a dead, brittle piece of wood, had no means to resist the wind. The wind moved it and disturbed its rest.

Andy recognized in the twig the same tendency in himself. When things outside him were turbulent, he was turbulent. When things outside him were calm, he was calm.

But what Morwen had been speaking about at dinner, the way fighters observe and modulate their emotions… things didn't have to be this way. He could observe the world and himself without catastrophizing. At least in theory.

He had always dealt with difficult emotions by policing them and keeping them at bay. That's how he had become emotionally anesthetized, completely numb by the end of his life.

But nowhere in Morwen's advice was there a tendency toward policing. Only observing and… how had she put it… encouraging. Encouraging useful emotions, ignoring inappropriate or exaggerated ones, and having the introspective skills to tell the difference.

Andy sighed loudly, surprising himself. It felt like a lot. It felt like he was fundamentally broken, wired the wrong way. How was he going to change his reactions and responses? He couldn't even concentrate on a twig without falling asleep, and now he was seeing all the problems in his natural thought processes.

I thought the physical training was the hard part. Mental training is… so much harder.

Andy rolled out his mat and laid down on his back. He leaned his head back on his hands and crossed one ankle over the other.

The sky really was brilliant.

I suppose understanding how I think is the first step, he thought to himself. He wanted to enjoy the night sky, to allow it to soothe and heal his soul, as Morwen had spoken about. He could see that it was beautiful. But he was still too ramped up to feel that it was beautiful, which only made him frustrated.

He noticed that he was frustrated.

He observed his frustration.

I am frustrated, he thought. I am frustrated and I am noticing it. I am observing it. And I am too far in my own head. Morwen is trustworthy. She has tons of experience and she is not worried about our safety while we're with Kresta. I do not have much reason to be worried beyond normal precautions. So I should… ignore the excessive worry.

Andy took a deep breath. The barbecue had died down and so had the smoke. Instead, Andy's lungs were filled with fresh pine. Morwen trusted Kresta, and everyone here was under her command.

I'm safe and everything's good, he thought.

Then he felt something new… something he had never felt in this life or the last… It wasn't perfect, but it was a beginning. He felt his alertness and anxiety fade just a hair. It was the most infinitesimal amount, but he noticed it. He felt his body and soul opening up, just a bit, to the idea of winding down. His default emotions were responding to his reason, ever so slightly.

"We're safe," he whispered to himself. "We're alright."