Returns

Weary as they were in the aftermath of their shared battle against Ishabal Ladyhammer, the weeks they spent on the road home were as much for Sandry, Daja, and Briar as they were for Tris; whom they all agreed deserved a more leisurely pace than that which they had set in evading the will of the Namornese Emperess and her archmage.

Aware that word of what had transpired would reach Summersea and Winding Circle long before they would, the quartet elected not to hasten their pace unduly. They knew without speaking that regardless of reports to the contrary, Sandry's uncle, Duke Vedris, and their former teachers would be equal parts worried and anxious for their safe return.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about that now." Tris noted when Sandry voiced her concerns.

The stitch-witch had sighed, and nodded, "I'm not going to be glad to cause them to worry," she confessed, "but I'll admit I'd rather we not tax ourselves if we don't have to, not with Gudruny and the children in our care."

And so it was Daja, Tris, and Briar found themselves, almost a moon's turn later at the gates of Number 6 Cheeseman Street.

"Lakik bless it, but am I glad to be home." Briar announced as he and the girls made their way inside.

Chime gave a tinkling reply of agreement from where she perched on his shoulder, one small glass foot resting upon his head for balance. She'd become inexplicably fond of him shortly after they crossed into Anderran and had insisted on riding almost exclusively with him in the last few days of their journey. He'd taken to offering her petals plucked from the wildflowers Gudruny's girl had gathered along the way. More often than not the dragon simply vomited them back up, some however seemed to agree with her and produced pretty glass flames with petal fragments prettily preserved inside.

Tris, for her part, merely rolled her eyes at the glass dragon's new bond with the plant mage.

"Better your petals than my powders." Tris had remarked one evening as she watched Daja wind wire around one such bauble, a gift for girl who'd picked the poor, unsuspecting flora.

They were hardly back an afternoon when Sandry came trotting down the lane on the handsome gelding she'd pilfered from Pershan fer Roth in the wake of her attempted kidnapping.

Sensing her approach, Daja met her in the courtyard a concerned frown on her face.

What's wrong, she asked silently, reaching out through their bond. What happened?

Sandry dismounted with a huff. "My cousin happened."

Daja held the reins of her horse as the stitch witch removed a pair of satchels from the saddle. Which one?

"Fransten," she answered, naming her uncle's eldest son.

Daja's frown became a grimace of understanding. "You'll be supping here then?"

Sandry gave her sister a blank look. "You'll be lucky if I don't move in."

The pair found Tris and Briar in the kitchen.

Sandry set the satchels on the table. "I brought dinner, courtesy of the citadel's kitchens," She said, pointing to the larger of the two. She pulled a thick envelope from the smaller bag. "And, orders to appear before Dedicate Superior Moonstream, courtesy of Winding Circle."

Briar groaned.

"Oh hush. You knew this was coming."

"Well that wasn't as terrifying as I thought it would be."

"You say that now. Just wait until Rosethorn gets her hands on you."

Briar gave Daja a baleful look. "You're mean."

Daja grinned wickedly in return, white teeth flashing. "So I've been told."

Barking greeted the four mages as they approached the open door of Discipline cottage. Within moments a young girl dashed through it, a large dog bounding after her. She threw herself at the weather witch with a happy cry as Little Bear wound himself between the mages, tail wagging fiercely.

Rosethorn appeared next, crooking an imperious finger at Briar when he met her eyes. He edged past the large dog with only moderate trepidation.

His former teacher's voice, when she spoke, was entirely unamused. "Just when I think it's safe to leave you unattended. I ought to hang you in the well for causing me such worry."

"Missed you too, Rosethorn." He replied, a half-grin blooming across his face.

Rosethorn huffed and pulled him into a tight embrace. "You little miscreant."

Over her shoulder Briar can see the table where he and his foster siblings had come to learn themselves, their magic, and each other. He blinked in shock as he and Rosethorn pull apart. Evvy, clad in the white robes of a novice, a young black and white cat sprawled across her lap was sitting across from a cringing Comas, both of them bent over books, obviously studying. Evvy's little friend Luvo was propped up against the young man's side, watching them.

Dimly, Briar heard Frostpine's booming laugh from the yard. He turned questioning eyes to Rosethorn. "When did-?"

Rosethorn shook her head, a hand on his shoulder drawing him inside. Striding through the main room she says. "Much has happened. Too much. Ask Evvy about the volcano."

Briar saw Evvy wince at the table. "Volcano?" he demanded, one eyebrow lifting in curiosity.

"She made an island." Rosethorn's voice called from her workroom. "And ran away."

Both brows went up. "An island?"

"Nearly died too."

Evvy groaned. "Rosethorn."

"You are going to tell me everything." Briar informed his former student. "And I do mean everything."

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this. It sort of got away from me. It's less than one cohesive story and more like a series of moments. I haven't read the Circle books in a while so anything OOC is my bad. To be honest I've never written for the Emelan 'verse ever. So, do with that information what you will. Feedback?