Tilting an already lit taper towards the virgin wick of her sickles worth of candle Morwenna considered the vast sea of flame she would need to create in order to outline all the wishes she had for the New Year. Ideally chief amongst them would be the ability to do this year again - to eradicate certain incidents that had cast a long shadow over the last few months and made her life significantly more miserable: of course, if she could do that then she would go back further, to before all of this began.

How had she never realised quite how simple her life was? Being occasionally lonely at home, estranged from her natal family and perennially overlooked for promotion seemed like the very best of times now. She hadn't known she was born.

Gently releasing her candle into the air Morwenna watched as it mingled with the others until it was anonymous amongst the offerings that hovered just below the ceiling. Each one a prayer, or a memory, and Morwenna couldn't help but be reminded of the bye-altar in the nave of the local parish church that had been her one window into something beyond her own existence for the first eleven years of her life. How had she managed to lose all those beliefs without even consciously intending to?

She risked a glance towards her protege, failing to catch her eye - very possibly at the young woman's own design - and the familiar feeling of despondency gripped her heart. Elinor had every right to be wary of her, had in fact been an angel not to turn her in immediately, but Morwenna mourned the loss of their previously easy relationship every moment that she was reminded of the foolish mistake she had made in coming in that day at all.

Perhaps it was time to try to approach the younger woman again? One was taught to expect miracles at Christmas after all-

Behind her Morwenna heard a commotion, a brief scream and as she turned she saw only a pink tendril flying towards her face before the world turned black.

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat