Full Summary:
Our four mages have been erased of their memories and their previous existences in Emelan, though they still remain in control of their powers. They all attend Lightsbridge and come into contact with each other, triggering flashbacks of the past they forgot. Will the broken circle be reforged? And what has the broken bonds done to their relationship? How has it changed? Will it ever be the same? Post Will-Of-The-Empress (so everyone's 18 y/o). Eventual BriarxTris.

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

Flashbacks

Disclaimer: Don't own anything but the plot for this story. Any similarities to anything real or fictional are merely coincidental. No copyright infringement intended for excerpts from the books, they are merely used as flashbacks in the story.

Chapter 1: The Circle at Lightsbridge

A carriage decorated in pale blue halted in front of a set of tall gates that connected stone walls on either side. The coach steering the horses turned around to lift open the curtain covering the carriage while his assistant hopped off to retrieve a wooden box that doubled as steps. Extending his other hand outwards, the coach bowed, paying respect to the patron emerging from the carriage.

"We have arrived at our destination, Milady," announced the coach.

Straw blonde hair pulled back into a bun covered by a near-transparent handkerchief appeared at the carriage doorway. Lady Sandrilene fa Toren paused as she stuck her head out, blinking and trying to adjust her eyes to the midday sun high overhead. Taking the proffered hand to steady herself, she jumped off to land on the ground, kicking up dust and paying no mind to the box set under the carriage. Cornflower blue eyes swept the campus in front of her as she inhaled through her button nose and exhaled nervously through her thin lips. Beyond the gates and walls that enclosed the University, small buildings were scattered throughout the expanse of green, some perched atop hills while others sat next to the lake and forest.

"Don't worry, Sandry, the learning you do here will help you grow as a mage. Should there be trouble, feel free to ask for my help, but I trust you to handle it well," the speaker winked. "Remember to keep an open mind to everything around you and never take things at face value," advised a deep voice from inside the carriage.

"I know, Uncle," Sandry replied shakily. Lingering a little longer in front of the carriage, Sandry kissed her uncle and said her farewells before being left alone to stand where she got off. Watching as the carriage of Duke Vedris IV rode out of sight, Sandry couldn't help but feel a sense of longing.

'Oh stop it, he hasn't even gone 2 minutes and already you want to chase after the carriage. You'll get to see him during university breaks, so stop fussing,' Sandry scolded herself. Plucking up her courage, she shook her dress of any wrinkles and picked up her bags, making her way through the front gates towards a map to find her dorm, Dawnbreak Suites.

At the same time Sandry stepped off the carriage, short plump legs carried a redhead halfway through the campus of Lightsbridge University, steel-gray eyes missing nothing as they passed over faces and buildings in search of the dorms. Gold-rimmed spectacles perched on top of a sharp nose accompanied lips set in a grim line. Loose twin braids on each side of her face fluttered in the wind while the rest of her braided hair was pinned to her head in different patterns. Like all other students around her, she was dragging her trunk of belongings along a bricked road headed west of the front gates while paying close attention for a sign that read 'freshmen residence.'

Emerging into a stone building of 3 stories named Moonlake Dorms, she headed towards a table that marked where residents checked-in. The girl behind the table introduced herself as the building's resident assistant aka person in charge, Ayva Springs.

"If you ever need anything, I'll be in room 1A on this floor. Of course, I won't be here in the mornings since I also have classes but you can find me in my room in the evenings. May I have your name please," inquired the senior behind the table.

"Trisana Chandler."

The student sifted through a few small pieces of parchment in a box marked "C" before bringing out a key behind one that marked Tris's name.

"You will be on the third floor in room 3C near the end of the hall. This key will open both your room door as well as the main door to this building. All university robes, linens, and necessities are provided within the rooms, privies are in the middle of the halls, the bath house is the second building to the right and the dining hall is the building behind this one. If there are no questions, please sign the dotted line here."

As Tris scribbled her name on the parchment, she noticed that only girls bustled about around her. 'Makes sense to separate the boy and girl dorms to avoid problems,' she thought. Muttering her thanks, she grabbed her key and headed towards the stairs, huffing and puffing her way to the third floor with her trunk of clothes.

(Several hours later that same day)

"Damn kid, watch where you're going," cried a boy as he was pushed roughly aside by another boy rushing to the opposite end of the hall. Growling, gray-green eyes glared at the disappearing figure before tattooed hands brushed off non-existent dust from his clothes. Turning around to head back to his room, he combed his hands through his bangs to keep it out of his eyes—an action that was futile, seeing as the black locks fell back to their original position above his eyes.

'I should get a cut.'

A few feet before him, a cluster of boys stood in front of his door. Sensing his approach, the boys all turned and glared at him, taking a defensive stance. A boy off to the side pointed and shouted accusingly.

"That's him, Briar Moss. He's the one that stole your—"

"Quiet!" A stocky boy at the head of the group cut him off with a growl. The other boy backed off immediately, lowering his eyes to the ground. It was clear who had the authority.

Briar raised a questioning eyebrow, clearly confused about what's going on but not about to voice his thoughts. It hasn't even been 4 hours since he moved in and already, there was trouble amidst and involving him, no less.

The leader of the group glanced at Briar's hands that hung loosely at his side, noticing the two X's that marked the area between thumb and index finger on both his hands, indicating Briar's past of thievery. With a frown, he said "we're all adults here, so let's settle this without fuss from the RA. If you return what you stole, I'll let you go unscathed."

This time, both Briar's eyebrows were up in the air. So apparently, he had stolen something from the leader of the group. Obviously spotting the X's on his hands, they had already assumed Briar had done the accused act. The look on the group's faces left no room for discussion; whatever reason he had prepared to clear his name will fall on deaf ears, carried away by the wind as though it doesn't matter.

"Hmph, once a thief, always a thief." That came from a tall boy off to the left of the group.

Ignoring him, the leader continued. "Last chance…"

Taking his silence as defiance, the group took up offensive stances, preparing to launch themselves at the olive-skinned thief whenever their leader gave the signal.

Surveying the group, Briar realized that he could take on the 6 boys easily with only one hand, though the former street rat in him wanted them to suffer a few bruises before knocking them out. The stances they took already clued Briar in on their skill and experience—which wasn't a lot. Rather than waste his breath (and magic), he bent down—the boys shifted back slightly at his movements—and unsheathed a small knife from an ankle holster on his right. Standing upright again, he tossed the knife in the air several times, catching it at the handle every time.

"T-that's now allowed on the dorms. Y-you were supposed to be frisked of weapons before entering the dorms," stammered the boy that previously accused Briar.

Shrugging in response, Briar slowly strode forward purposely while still tossing the knife in the air and catching it as it spun down. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he flashed them a full smile and stomped his right foot forward, making it seem like he was going to charge at them.

At the sudden movement, all 6 boys turned and ran down the hall in the opposite direction and down the stairs—probably to complain to the RA and come back with reinforcements. Chuckling to himself, clearly amused at the boys antics, the former street rat turned to face his door before something flashed in his mind.

( - - Flashback - - )

He'd been so busy examining the plants he'd stolen that day that he hadn't heard them come up. I'm gonna deserve my ouches, he thought, grey-green eyes giving no sign of his feelings. Letting a bunch of dung-footed gawps nab me!

Two of them lifted him, gripping him by the arms. The fatty loudmouth from three beds down stood in front of him, hand on one hip. He shoved the first finger of the other hand into Briar's face. "You stole my cloak-pin, gallows-bait!" he cried. "I want it back!"

Briar knew the pin that was meant; the boy had showed it to everyone the day before. "Me?" demanded the street rat, horrified. "Nick that piece of flash? There's no pump worth his Bags as would pay more'n a few copper pennies for it!"

"Liar!" cried his accuser. "It cost me two silver crescents!"

Briar lifted his eyebrows. "Silver-gilt paint, tin, and a glass pearl? Then you was nicked, and nicked proper."

Two of the other boys opened the small clothes chest at the foot of the bed, spilling its contents on the floor. Someone else dragged everything out of Briar's den and scrabbled through the green bits that Briar had just been examining. "Look at this!" he said, laughing. "Did someone tell you dead plants are valuable, street scum?"

"Here's wickedness." One of the pair searching his clothes chest held up two of the knives that Briar had picked up on his journey to Winding Circle.

"Planning to murder us in our sleep and rob us all?" The leader's finger stabbed forward, poking Briar rudely in the nose.

Quick as a flash, Briar lunged forward and bit down on the accusing finger. His victim screamed as he hung on. The pair holding him twisted his arms up behind his back. Briar got rid of one, kicking his knee till the boy collapsed. Releasing the leader's finger, Briar smashed the other boy hanging onto him with the back of his skull. His victim fell back, his nose bleeding.

Dropping, Briar rolled away from the boys, one hand going to an ankle-sheath, the other going to one in an armpit. Lurching to his feet, he showed them his blades.

"Back up, bleaters, 'less you want more mouth than you got," he snarled.

Softness, like clouds, wrapped around his arms, pinning them to his sides. He couldn't see it, but he felt it as it flowed down his legs. When it tightened, it snapped his feet together, knocking him off-balance. He fought it as he dropped, without result.

A foot rolled him over. He quieted, seeing who stood over him: a pair of dedicates. Both wore the yellow habit of the Air temple, which ran the dormitory, but the hem of the woman's robe was lined in black.

"I knew what would happen when they let that guttersnipe in!" The male dedicate hauled Briar up by his shirt. "You're out of this dormitory. If I have my way, you're out of Winding Circle altogether."

( - - End of Flashback - - )

'What was that?' Jolting out of it, Briar pushed his palms against his temples to soothe a dull ache that had settled there. Shaking his head from the 2 second relapse, he refocused on the present and listened to see if there was any sign of the group coming back. 'Oh well, I'll deal with them later," he thought as silence greeted him.

Too lazy to take out the key to his room, Briar stuck the knife into the keyhole and fiddled with the lock for a bit before there was a click and the door gave way. Entering his room, he shut the door behind him with his foot and collapsed on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He tried to recall what had flashed before him in the 2 seconds but couldn't remember what it was. One thing he was certain about, though, was that he had experienced what the nation in the northwest and across the river called déjà vu.

It was late into the evening when Daja Kisubo arrived in front of the freshmen dorms. Thin braids framed her face and fell halfway down her back. Sharp black eyes looked around before spotting Moonlake Dorms two buildings to the right of the bath houses. Donned in a red tunic and breeches, it held a sharp contrast to the darkness of her skin while also complimenting her tall, lean body. At 18, her height of 5 foot 11 definitely towered over most girls her age but she didn't let that bother her. 'As long as there's no height limit to being lugsha—a smith—then I don't care what anyone thinks,' Daja thought.

Hiking a tangle of bags higher on her shoulder, she turned to her right and put her staff forward to sweep the ground for anything that might trip her. It was getting dark and the moon was only a sliver in the sky, providing little light for Daja to navigate with. As she steered toward her right, six boys rushed out of a building to her left named Oasis Dorms seeming to head towards the administrative building perched on a hill to her right and muttering about having to find the RA and weapons.

'Boys.' Rolling her eyes, Daja picked up her pace and headed towards her dorm, wanting to check in and get a meal before washing up. 'The earlier I get things done, the earlier I can sleep. Man, I'm beat.' With that thought in mind, she trotted into the stone building that would serve as her home for the next few years.

A/N: Hi all, this is my first Circle Universe fic, as well as attempt at a multi-chapter story. You might notice modern elements in the story (mainly pertaining to University life) as well as slight OOC-ness of characters while I try to get the hang of writing. There will probably be misuse of Tradertalk and other vocabulary so I apologize in advance. If it bothers you, just ignore it and replace it with something else in your head.

Also, please check out and add to the TrisxBriar C2 I created, thanks!

Eeek, Friday the 13th. Bad luck for my fic? I hope not.

- Sqry