The cold winter gust tugged at Mireille’s dark-tinted hair, sending chills down her spine even though she wore a heavy, glowing feather collar. Winter meant Aurora season - when Veilheim, tucked far into the planet’s curve, finally stirred awake. Up north, people saw real auroras, wild sky-dances shaped by space forces, stunning light shows written in color. Down south, though, no such luck - instead, they had custom spells, bright rhythms pulled from thin air by the Veilhorn enchanters. Mireille had feathers like pearls mixed with marble, a speckled pattern across her pale coat. She glanced at Harvey, feeling both irritated and fond. Her brother - a dark seraph with shadowy fur and streaks of white - was nearly buzzing on his hooves. The lights in the sky made him this way every time, lighting up his bold but warm spirit. “Here we go, Mire?” Harvey said, sounding all bouncy and fizzy from his magic trick. Glow-y bits that looked kinda fake but cool danced near his feet. Mireille scoffed, a burst of warm air vanishing into the cold. "Ready enough, Harvey - just don't go dazzling folks with your typical flare." A quiet buzz under her skin twitched, itching to jump in. People said she acted too fast, which usually rubbed against his endless cheer, yet facing the Aurora? Even she couldn’t shake a jolt of thrill. Over by the icy yard near their house, Morgana - blue-tinted fur like cherry bark and soft dark feathers - was scrubbing the shiny parts of the Veilhorn setup. Each wipe showed how serious she took her job. Quiet by nature, she’d blush pink, almost glowing like warm coals from her inner flame, yet never skipped a single duty passed down through time. "Almost done, Mireille!" Morgana called out, her voice soft but clear. "Just a few more calibrations on the focusing crystals." The Veilhorn setup looked wild, built over years by clever folks from Veilheim. Made up of many thin spires - tall ones - carved from dark glass touched by moonlight, every piece laced with raw magical flow. Fire it up, and they’d pull hidden power from the land, blasting bright beams upward, slashing through cold night air like dancing auroras. Harvey nudged Mireille playfully with his shoulder. "Come on, sis! The sky awaits our masterpiece!" Mireille rolled her eyes, yet she couldn't hide a faint grin. Still, their so-called "masterpiece" came together only through teamwork - tight timing mattered most. While Harvey handled illusions, Mireille shaped hidden forces, whereas Morgana kept flames under tight rein; each role held up one part of what their family brought to the Aurora. When the final bit of sunlight vanished behind the icy edge of the world, coloring the air with deep violet and soft amber, a quiet wonder swept through Veilheim. People from the town, bundled in heavy cloaks that shimmered like night fabric, slowly moved toward the main square, eyes lifted - breath held - in shared anticipation. Mireille stood near the Veilhorn setup, while Harvey took a spot opposite her. The dark horns caught the moon’s light, their surfaces slick and shiny. Each one flickered with a faint inner radiance, almost like breathing. “Harvey, begin using the base rhythms,” Morgana said calmly. A tiny flame sparked on her horn, heat cutting through the chill. Harvey gave a nod, his pale wings quivering from thrill. His front hooves knocked against the icy soil - right away, waves of bright force spread wide. The closest Veilhorns lit up stronger - not long after, thin rays of blue fire stabbed through the black. Mireille shut her eyes, sensing the usual hum of magic inside. Through thought alone, her speckled tan wings flickered while she tried sorting that rough force into form. Impulsive by habit, she usually went too far - her spells nearly untamed at times. Yet right now, attention stayed sharp; streams of greenish glow twisted together with purple streaks, syncing gently into Harvey's steady rhythm. The sky started shifting. Streams of glow, nothing like the usual northern show, spread out overhead. Not only did Harvey’s tricks bring motion, but they shaped ghostly forms that twisted and spun. Meanwhile, Mireille’s magic strands made those glows solid, adding a roughness you could nearly touch. “Morgana, time for the spark!" Harvey shouted, while his tricks danced like stars in a wild sky. Morgana sucked in air, her quietness fading as wild power surged around. Yet instead of fear, she gripped the heat inside, guiding rivers of golden-red glow toward the Veilhorns’ roots. Not meant to burn, these flames carried raw force - pumping life into the skyward beams, making them blaze brighter than before. The sky turned into something wild to see. Not just red or yellow - those mixed with green and purple, splashing the dark in every direction. Up above, the Veilhorns lit up, fired off by three seraphs moving together, not perfect - but close. Every flash they made showed how well they worked as one. Mireille stared at a daring flash of blue light - hers, wild and raw - from her magic clashing with Morgana’s sharp red flare. The two twisted together, forming a quick ghost-like bird that flew up, then broke apart into tiny glowing specks. A rush of pride hit her, something she almost never let show, though it slipped through this time. Harvey, always loving attention, started crafting wilder tricks. Not just sparks this time - dragons made of starlight roared across the sky, glowing clouds flickered like living mist, while stars twisted into shapes that shouldn't exist. People down below gasped, then cheered, eyes wide as colors danced on their skin. “Careful there, Harvey," Mireille said, half-laughing - this wild vision of a charging unicorn nearly smashed into a delicate curve of magic light. Harvey merely laughed, his eyes shining. "Where's the fun without a little… embellishment, Mire?" Morgana, on the other hand, held everything together. While her fire had serious power, it stayed precise - never wild. Instead of flaring out, it burned steady thanks to her focus, which kept the light levels smooth and safe. The moment magic flowed around her, her usual shyness disappeared; calm certainty took its place, showing more than words ever could. They spent hours painting the sky. Cold winter air buzzed with magic, people chatting happily, now and then Harvey's laugh popping out. Mireille got caught up in it, her power moving on its own, matching the beat of the show. She stretched what she could do - sharp shapes changing form, fitting smoothly into Harvey’s flowing tricks. A second passed - Mireille pulled glowing strands from the sky’s peak, soft shine tumbling like rain. That flash held her close to the spell, tied her to her brothers and sisters, also linking something older - the pulse of Veilheim itself. Not pride or duty, just knowing where she fit, so clear it slipped past her usual resistance. When the sky started turning pale, they finished what they were doing. Light slipped away slowly, so the heavens looked empty but kept a soft glow - as if remembering all the show had been. The crowd burst into clapping - sound rolling toward the trio like thunder after rain. They dipped their heads, tired yet buzzing inside. Harvey, energy still sparking through him, gave Mireille a nudge, then jostled Morgana sideways. “Not bad, huh?” He smirked, a flicker of fake stardust stuck in his hair. Mireille managed a genuine smile, her usual rashness momentarily subdued. "You didn't set anything on fire, Harvey. I'd call that a success." Morgana’s face warmed, turning pinker. She dipped her head softly - almost hesitant. “It felt… real,” she said quiet-like. Not loud. Just there When they headed home, the cold didn’t bite like before. Their spell in the sky had lit up more than stars - it heated something inside. Mireille, wild-haired caster of hidden forces, usually rushing ahead without thinking, now moved slowly, full of peace. She’d joined the old ritual, added her glow to the bright show, not alone - but with her brother and his sparky companion walking close. In that quiet making-together, beneath the wide night sky glittering above Veilheim’s snowfields, she caught a flash of pure, clear happiness. Her Northern Lights - really hers - weren’t only glowing waves across dark space; they showed how two people can link souls, painting one bright thread through everything they’d lived.