Okay . . . this story takes place after the COM quartet, and it's written in place of TCO, because that quartet isn't finished and it's too confusing anyway. Sorry about the first scene, but I needed some way to introduce the characters and that was all I could think of. Unless people bug me, we will probably never find out what the cloth is or why it needed fixing. Also, I've tried to stay true to TP's writing style. Hope you like it! So . . . here it is! (drumroll please!)

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"Regular Talk"

Mind-voices

'Thinking'

(Author's Notes)

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Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I no own, so you no sue.

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Please review when you're done reading, and I don't mind if you flame, but hopefully you liked something!

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A girl sat hunched in a corner of a room, bent over a plain weaving loom. She looked to be around fifteen years old, with sun-streaked brown hair and sky-blue eyes. The corners of her mouth turned down as she stared at the cloth, half-finished on the loom. Her button nose wrinkled as she concentrated hard. For a moment, her eyes looked inside instead of out. The cloth on the loom looked as if it shivered, a flowing wave going across the loom. The girl's mouth straightened, and she grinned. "There!" A white, curly haired dog looked up from its seat on the floor and thumped its tail.

"I'm sorry, Little Bear. Did I wake you up?" The girl reached down and scratched his ears.

"Sandry?" A voice emanated from the room adjacent to the one she was in. A grown woman in a green habit walked in through the door, holding an opened letter.

"I just fixed the cloth!" Sandry's voice was excited as she told her mage-teacher.

"Good. But I need to talk to you about something. Actually, could you get the other two as well?"

A string tweaked in Sandry's heart, but it was a small pain. Lark had just reminded her that one person was missing. Trisana Chandler, one of Sandry's closest friends and part of the four mages that lived in Discipline Cottage, was traveling around the Gold Ridge Valley with her mage-teacher, Niklaren Goldeye. They were checking on the progress of the area after a three-year drought, ended two years ago by Sandry and her three friends.

"Sandry? Are you paying attention?" Lark's voice penetrated her thoughts.

The small girl shook her head, chasing off the trace of uneasiness that remained. "Yes, Lark, I'm fine," Sandry replied cheerily. "I'll get Briar and Daj.' "

Contacting Briar and Daja was as easy as breathing. Briar? Daja? she called with her mind voice.

A feeling of green plant tendrils eased their way into her mind, quickly followed by a coil of red-hot wire. Yeah? they chorused.

Lark wants to talk to both of us, so could you come back home? Sandry's mind-voice seemed like a spun thread to the other two.

Of course, Daja answered. Does it have to be right now? Briar wanted to know. I'm right in the middle of a spell.

"Can you tell them to hurry?" Lark's normally patient voice was strained.

Lark says hurry. And she looks worried.

I'll be there as fast as I can. Briar's mind-voice sounded anxious. Lark didn't get upset easily, and when she did it was usually more than a just cause.

"Is everything all right, Lark?" Sandry herself was more than a little distressed.

Lark made a noncommittal noise in her throat. Her mind was obviously elsewhere. She moved over to a table and sat heavily.

After a few minutes, the door slammed open, and Daja Kisubo entered the cottage. Daja stood almost a hand taller than Sandry, although they were the same age. She was built sturdily. Her skin was the color of a fashionable drink called chocolate, and her hair was braided tightly against her scalp. She had stopped wearing crimson ribbons a few months ago, but still bore a crimson armband to show respect and remembrance of her dead family. Daja fingers grazed against the material of her armband, and she gripped her staff and gave thanks to the Trader gods that she was trangshi no more.

The sight of Lark sitting at the table brought Daja back to the present. "Is everything all right?" she asked, looking concerned.

Lark didn't answer.

What's wrong? Daja asked Sandry through their connection. She's really upset!

I don't know, Sandry replied. I'm really getting worried, though.

The door sprang open a second time, and a tall, lanky boy strolled in.

"It's about time you got here," Sandry snapped.

Briar shot her a grin. "Hope I didn't hold up anything important." His gray-green eyes sparkled, but he was out of breath so they knew he had hurried. Sandry and Daja both rolled their eyes.

"Lark?" Sandry's soft voice made Lark look up. "We're all here now. Can you please tell us why you're so upset? What's going on?"

Lark looked at all of them, then took a deep breath. "The truth is --"

She was cut off as another woman walked into the room. Like Lark, this woman was wearing a green habit to show her devotion to the Earth temple. She was fair-skinned with auburn hair, and taller than Lark.

"Lark, do you know where Briar is? I sent him to get . . ." Her voice trailed off as she saw the somber expressions of the four people in the room. "All right. Who died?" she asked in an attempt at joking.

Lark looked at her. "Well, Rosie, I suppose it's a good thing that you're here. I need to tell everyone something rather important, and since you're all here, I'll do it now."

Rosethorn nodded and took a seat at the table.

Lark took another deep breath and said, "We have to leave Discipline."