obviously letters weren't sent that slowly, but im lazy so...its slow so i dont have to write too many letters for them.
bye!
oh my god the site was just back up, and i wrote like what 7 chapters already with rosethorn still in emelan and not mentioning his apprentice evvy...oh im screwed...well, deal with it. yikes. this is awful. well, pretend nothing happened, okay? i suppose it will be how sorka imagined it...ahhh...
~~~~~~~~~~ Briar, fourteen years old
Dear Briar,
How are you? I miss you all already, and it's only been three short weeks since your first letter. What is it like in that city? I know you refused to tell me in your letter, but I really want to know!
Uncle's doing better, Briar, but I was so worried. His lips turned blue, and Moonstream nearly ripped a handful of hair out of her head in frustration. And she's such an experienced healer! He works too hard, and I've moved permanently to Emelan from Discipline to keep an eye on him. Did you know he worked 15 hour days? No wonder he got a heart attack.
But I remembered what you did to Rosethorn, and tied him into his body with thread magic. I think it worked, for now, though the nurses were angry when I demanded to be admitted to his room. It's rather embarrassing.
Do you think this is a "breakthrough" in medicine, or just something that healers already use? I mean, we've done it twice, and though it's draining...it worked. Wouldn't it be wonderful if our Circle had discovered this useful thing? Actually, I rather doubt that.
Tris wrote from her location, unfortunately a "hole in the wall" rented room, as she put it. Daja's was nicer, at least. Did they describe it to you, or did they spare your tender soul and not elaborate on settings?
I watered your shakkan, Briar. I hope it doesn't mind being away from you too much. It seems sad, but its not drooping at least. And also, I, as unofficial hostess of Emelan, am refusing for anyone to use the green, grey, and orange rooms so they're the Circle's until you all come back. I don't want anyone else's stinky presence there instead of yours. And I don't want to share a washroom...just kidding. No guests come here often, and most don't wish to choose rooms that view the gardens. Most want the vast "mysterious harbor, with it's sapphire waters and picturesque boats."
Oh, it's so lonely here! It seems so quiet without Tris' thunderstorms, Daja stumbling in covered with soot, and your plants erupting right and left. I watered your shakkan, so you don't have to worry. I put plenty of potted plants around it, like you said, so perhaps it won't be so lonely. I miss you all, and I hope you can come back soon!
Much love, Sandry
He smiled, holding the pale green stationary in his hand. Too bad the mail took so long to send, two months each way. He wished they could mindspeak instead. Six months, and only two letters, one from her and one from him. He missed them all so badly, especially Sandry in a way.
Did they discover something new? Doubt it, he told himself. He was such a bleater to even consider it. A small bundle fell out of the envelope, tumbling to the floor. He picked it up.
It was a green cloth, woven finely out of silk threads, like a scarf, with embroidered briars and blooming scarlet roses. It was only a hands length long and wide, but it lay warmly between his palms. "That's pretty," he said aloud. He read the letter again. "Much love?" He wondered a bit, but decided it was nothing, though his cheeks warmed with the thought. "Nah, couldn't be," he told himself, though in a strange way, he wanted it so.
The son of the owner of the building, his age, danced into the room. "Hey, Briar!" Zak yelled. "What's happening, street boy?" Grabbing the letter, his blue eyes (lighter than Sandry's, Briar noticed) scanned the page quickly. "This from your girlfriend?"
"No," he replied with a cuff to his friend's head, "It's from my friend who's a girl."
"Isn't it the same thing?" Zak teased, his constantly mussed hair nearly glowing in the lamplight. The dim light made his broken nose, crookedly set, seem even more strangely shadowed.
"Naw, just my ol' mate, Sandry."
"Mate? And look here, Moss, she wrote 'love.' "
He should have learned his lesson with stuffy old Crane. "Mate as in friend," he said patiently, "And girls are weird like that all the time. Besides, she's a noble," he suggested, though he knew his cheeks burned.
"Yeah, well, still. Shut up and come down to dinner. Ma says the stew is ready." Briar wrapped the bit of green scarf in his hankerchief (well, Sandry's, because he didn't own any other) and stuffed it hastily in his pocket before following Zak.
~~~~~~~~
He sat at his desk, a dented piece of wood carved into the shape of a table, holding the quill in his right hand. "What do I write?" The bit of scarf fluttered back at him, the glossy roses shining in the lamplight.
"Ah, well." Biting his lip, he tried to remember everything his teachers had taught him about writing.
Hey Sandry,
How is it over there in ol' Emelan? How's Lark and Rosethorn, and Little Bear?
Well, the city's not as bad as everyone said. It's grey, and rainy, but my room ain't sounding as bad as Tris'. I rent a room from this family, one of their boarders, and they have a son named Zak my age. It's not the same as annoying you and Daja, but it's a tolerable substitute. He's blue eyed like you, and shorter than me. Maybe even shorter than Tris.
I miss that little tree, too. But I think Rosethorn was right when she said the weather here wasn't too good for it. The moisture would make it turn brownish.
How is your Uncle? I hope his heart is getting better, and that them who look after him take care of him good. I heard from Niko about that tapestry incident, good for you. Those dung beetles should have let you into the room anyway, serves them right to be cocooned.
Rosethorn mentioned that the thing we did might not work all the time, only to them who we're connected to, either magically or mentally. I don't know, maybe we did find something, maybe not. I think we should talk about it when we meet again, though when thats gonna be who knows.
I miss you guys too, maybe sometime Niko will let us come back.
Briar paused. "What do I sign this with?" he asked himself, quietly, so that Zak wouldn't hear and burst in. Hmm. 'Love' was out of the question, wasn't it? 'Gods Bless'? He wasn't that religious, at least not the kind to spout 'gods' over and over again. Sincerely? He couldn't figure how to spell the last one.
He wrote "love" once, but scratched it out.
XlXoXvXeX Bye, Briar.
It looked awful, but there were blotches on the paper anyway, so he simply dismissed the crossout. He almost sealed the envelope, but paused. Should he put something in it? She gave him that pretty green thing. Picking it up once more, the silk tickled his fingers. Then the sensation of being close to her again, which he quickly cut off before he went crazy at himself for being such a chuffle.
What did he have to give her?
Picking a sprig each of lavender, fern, miniature rose, and the deep blue faerie's eyes (his personal favorite) from his window plant collection, he quickly slammed it between the pages of a heavy book. Sufficiently flattened, he placed the small arrangement gently in the letter and waxed the envelope shut. Hopefully, the flowers wouldn't be messed up too badly in the long process of the mailing system.
He sighed. It would be months, perhaps, before the letter reached Sandry, and months before he might get a reply. And he really did miss her, especially when those strange dreams came back. The color of the yarn changed at will, and Sandry didn't always die, but usually she ran away or fell or screamed or something bad, and it would have been so reassuring for her to be in the next room.
~~~~~~~~~~
He tossed and turned.
"Stop!" he cried out, voice echoing through the mazework of the grey stones. "Why won't you wait?"
She turned to look at him, braids flying. "I can't! You have to catch up to me, or I can't tell you the secret!"
"What?" He sprinted faster and faster, but the noble kept several feet ahead. Tris threw him a bit of wind to fly on, and he grasped her by the wrist. A part of his mind, not asleep, rejoiced that he had finally caught up to her. "What is the big secret?"
Sandry squirmed, braids momentarily vines, but they disappered quickly. "Oh, fine. I have to tell you then." Leaning over, she kissed him on the lips playfully while his dream-body stood in shock. "That was my secret," she told him, before ducking out of his grasp and-
He sat up in bed. "What was that?" Briar rolled over and wriggled under the covers again, but his eyes remained open and questioning for the rest of the night. "What is wrong with me?"
~~~~~~~~~