I again want to thank people for their reviews. The Dreaded Rainbow Man, thank you for answering my questions about those two names. Also to the comment about Evvy, yes I know she was Briar's student in Street Magic, however, at the end of the book they talked about taking her back to her homeland [Yanjing, was it?] to live there. I didn't think it right to start of the story with all the students included since this IS about the quartet. However, I might bring all of them into the story later. Thanks again to everybody for the reviews, and hope you enjoy this part, as well.
Part 3 - Discipline
Daja stepped outside of her room and quietly closed her door after completing her afternoon devotions and finishing with one of the necklaces she'd been repairing. Upon hearing the hard knock on the front door, she picked up a jog down the stairs. Lark was most likely busy in her workroom and Comas would never dream of answering the door. She had thought she'd heard Tris passing her room earlier on her way up to the roof, though she couldn't be sure. Even if she was up there, however, Tris'd never hear the knock if she wasn't specifically listening for it.
Easily releasing the latch and swinging the door with familiarity, Daja began a regular greeting, "Good evening--" then stopped. A young man with wavy black hair stood outside the door. He wore well-traveled clothes and a devil's grin. He was almost a stranger, but the mischievous jade eyes were just as she'd remembered. "Since when do you knock?"
Briar smirked at the welcome and grabbed Daja into a tight hug. She'd always been tall for a girl, but he was shocked now to see that she was in fact an inch or so taller than his five-foot, nine-inches. While she'd grown in height, some things hadn't changed: her ebony hair was tightly coiled into braids ending with scarlet beads that now reached her shoulders, her rich chocolate skin was warm with the heat of fire, and her hands were calloused like those of a hard worker. Red arm bands to match her beads were still wrapped around each arm as a symbol of mourning and remembrance.
"Thought I should at least try to make a good impression," he joked as they both pulled back from the embrace.
Daja laughed. "Oh right. It may have been a few years, but nobody here has forgotten you. At this point, we've all got our impressions, and none of them good." Clapping her longtime friend on the back, Daja led him over to the table.
They both sat down, Briar feeling a bit out of place. Daja seemed like the same girl he had grown up with, but something under the surface said that she was different. And what of Sandry, and Tris? Would they be different? And how much? As older teenagers, it would only be normal for all of them to have matured since the last time he'd been at Discipline.
"So, where's Rosethorn?" Daja wondered, trying to cover the odd silence. Apparently Briar wasn't the only one feeling awkward.
"Out back in her garden. It's all she's talked about since we began the final trip home. I know she's missed Lark too, but she's overwhelmed with the joy of being home and I think it's easier for her to cry in front of her plants than another person. When's she's got herself under control, she'll come inside," he replied. It was common knowledge among the occupants of Discipline how much Lark and Rosethorn loved each other as sisters, just as it was common knowledge how much Rosethorn hated to show her true feelings. "And how about Tris, Sandry, and Lark?"
"Oh, Lark's in her workroom. She spends most of her time there when she's not working with Comas."
"Who?"
"Comas. Lark's new student. He's a thread-mage, though he hasn't nearly the potential as Sandry does," Daja explained. "Didn't Sandry ever write to you about him?"
"No... I never got any letters. From anyone. I guess because Rosethorn and I were traveling so much that the letters just never made it to us. So if Lark's teaching Comas now, what about Sandry?" Briar wondered.
"Three years ago she officially moved in with her uncle, his Grace, not too long after you left. He had a heart attack, and has since had two more. She's staying there to help him manage things now that his heart is too weak for much activity or stress. Besides, Lark has always said she can teach Sandry no more. Comas stays in Sandry's old room now, next to Lark's workroom." Daja said all this was the air of great sadness. Briar wondered how often Sandry ever visited Discipline anymore. Glancing over at the downstairs bedroom across from his own, he couldn't imagine it being inhabited by anyone other than the stubborn little noble he'd come to think of as a normal person.
Well, that explained about two of the people he'd asked about. "And Tris?"
"I think she's on the roof," was all Daja said.
Looking into himself and reaching toward the magical vine that reminded him of wind and rain, Briar carefully followed it's connection, hoping not to disturb the person on the other end. When he felt warm sun and a light breeze on his face with stiff straw scratching against his back he knew that Daja had been right.
Pulling back their chairs and standing from the table, Briar and Daja once again fell into each other's arm with the affection of siblings. "We really did miss you," she breathed against his hair. "Go say hi to her," she instructed. They ended the moment when Daja ungracefully shoved Briar toward the staircase. He grinned back at her one last time before beginning his ascent to the roof. Now, more than ever, he was glad he was home.
* * * * * *
She heard the creak of the ladder as someone made the last couple of steps onto the roof. The winds whispered to her of the unrest among the dead straw laid down on the roof. It didn't matter; she knew who it was anyway.
"Took your own sweet time in coming back," she scolded, trying hopelessly to keep her eyes from tearing.
"Don't tell me you missed me, too," he said with mock concern.
A watery smile grew on her face. "Of course not."
Crawling over to where Tris was laying, staring up at the growing clouds, Briar settled himself down into a comfortable position next to her. "Changed much, Coppercurls?"
It was an absurd question. Anyone who had seen her just a few years ago could tell that she'd become considerably taller, finally let her hair grow out a few inches below her shoulders, and lost over thirty pounds. Tris was grateful for the light conversation, though. Even after years of separation, Briar understood her better than most people ever had. Her hard exterior covered a vulnerable heart and feelings she was desperately struggling to keep under control. Perhaps it was his close relationship with Rosethorn that allowed him to comprehend people like that, or maybe it was his years growing up on the streets of Hajra, Sotat. Whatever it was, it brought the two of them closer together than blood siblings. They were so close in fact, that neither felt the need to get reacquainted with one another. There was nothing that needed to be said.
Briar and Tris continued to gaze at the rolling clouds overhead in companionable silence, letting the cooling temperature and peace of the day wash over them.
Part 3 - Discipline
Daja stepped outside of her room and quietly closed her door after completing her afternoon devotions and finishing with one of the necklaces she'd been repairing. Upon hearing the hard knock on the front door, she picked up a jog down the stairs. Lark was most likely busy in her workroom and Comas would never dream of answering the door. She had thought she'd heard Tris passing her room earlier on her way up to the roof, though she couldn't be sure. Even if she was up there, however, Tris'd never hear the knock if she wasn't specifically listening for it.
Easily releasing the latch and swinging the door with familiarity, Daja began a regular greeting, "Good evening--" then stopped. A young man with wavy black hair stood outside the door. He wore well-traveled clothes and a devil's grin. He was almost a stranger, but the mischievous jade eyes were just as she'd remembered. "Since when do you knock?"
Briar smirked at the welcome and grabbed Daja into a tight hug. She'd always been tall for a girl, but he was shocked now to see that she was in fact an inch or so taller than his five-foot, nine-inches. While she'd grown in height, some things hadn't changed: her ebony hair was tightly coiled into braids ending with scarlet beads that now reached her shoulders, her rich chocolate skin was warm with the heat of fire, and her hands were calloused like those of a hard worker. Red arm bands to match her beads were still wrapped around each arm as a symbol of mourning and remembrance.
"Thought I should at least try to make a good impression," he joked as they both pulled back from the embrace.
Daja laughed. "Oh right. It may have been a few years, but nobody here has forgotten you. At this point, we've all got our impressions, and none of them good." Clapping her longtime friend on the back, Daja led him over to the table.
They both sat down, Briar feeling a bit out of place. Daja seemed like the same girl he had grown up with, but something under the surface said that she was different. And what of Sandry, and Tris? Would they be different? And how much? As older teenagers, it would only be normal for all of them to have matured since the last time he'd been at Discipline.
"So, where's Rosethorn?" Daja wondered, trying to cover the odd silence. Apparently Briar wasn't the only one feeling awkward.
"Out back in her garden. It's all she's talked about since we began the final trip home. I know she's missed Lark too, but she's overwhelmed with the joy of being home and I think it's easier for her to cry in front of her plants than another person. When's she's got herself under control, she'll come inside," he replied. It was common knowledge among the occupants of Discipline how much Lark and Rosethorn loved each other as sisters, just as it was common knowledge how much Rosethorn hated to show her true feelings. "And how about Tris, Sandry, and Lark?"
"Oh, Lark's in her workroom. She spends most of her time there when she's not working with Comas."
"Who?"
"Comas. Lark's new student. He's a thread-mage, though he hasn't nearly the potential as Sandry does," Daja explained. "Didn't Sandry ever write to you about him?"
"No... I never got any letters. From anyone. I guess because Rosethorn and I were traveling so much that the letters just never made it to us. So if Lark's teaching Comas now, what about Sandry?" Briar wondered.
"Three years ago she officially moved in with her uncle, his Grace, not too long after you left. He had a heart attack, and has since had two more. She's staying there to help him manage things now that his heart is too weak for much activity or stress. Besides, Lark has always said she can teach Sandry no more. Comas stays in Sandry's old room now, next to Lark's workroom." Daja said all this was the air of great sadness. Briar wondered how often Sandry ever visited Discipline anymore. Glancing over at the downstairs bedroom across from his own, he couldn't imagine it being inhabited by anyone other than the stubborn little noble he'd come to think of as a normal person.
Well, that explained about two of the people he'd asked about. "And Tris?"
"I think she's on the roof," was all Daja said.
Looking into himself and reaching toward the magical vine that reminded him of wind and rain, Briar carefully followed it's connection, hoping not to disturb the person on the other end. When he felt warm sun and a light breeze on his face with stiff straw scratching against his back he knew that Daja had been right.
Pulling back their chairs and standing from the table, Briar and Daja once again fell into each other's arm with the affection of siblings. "We really did miss you," she breathed against his hair. "Go say hi to her," she instructed. They ended the moment when Daja ungracefully shoved Briar toward the staircase. He grinned back at her one last time before beginning his ascent to the roof. Now, more than ever, he was glad he was home.
* * * * * *
She heard the creak of the ladder as someone made the last couple of steps onto the roof. The winds whispered to her of the unrest among the dead straw laid down on the roof. It didn't matter; she knew who it was anyway.
"Took your own sweet time in coming back," she scolded, trying hopelessly to keep her eyes from tearing.
"Don't tell me you missed me, too," he said with mock concern.
A watery smile grew on her face. "Of course not."
Crawling over to where Tris was laying, staring up at the growing clouds, Briar settled himself down into a comfortable position next to her. "Changed much, Coppercurls?"
It was an absurd question. Anyone who had seen her just a few years ago could tell that she'd become considerably taller, finally let her hair grow out a few inches below her shoulders, and lost over thirty pounds. Tris was grateful for the light conversation, though. Even after years of separation, Briar understood her better than most people ever had. Her hard exterior covered a vulnerable heart and feelings she was desperately struggling to keep under control. Perhaps it was his close relationship with Rosethorn that allowed him to comprehend people like that, or maybe it was his years growing up on the streets of Hajra, Sotat. Whatever it was, it brought the two of them closer together than blood siblings. They were so close in fact, that neither felt the need to get reacquainted with one another. There was nothing that needed to be said.
Briar and Tris continued to gaze at the rolling clouds overhead in companionable silence, letting the cooling temperature and peace of the day wash over them.