Daja surveyed her new room. The four youngsters, the new students, had taken up their own rooms. She had decided against rooming in Discipline, taking up lodging instead at the forge. Frostpine had welcomed her back, had asked no questions (not that questions needed to be asked, mind you – everyone that knew the Circle knew also of the rift). Kirel, she learned, no longer worked at Winding Circle. He had gotten hitched to another metal mage and they had set up shop in Namorn.

She ... wasn't quite sure what she felt about that. She and Kirel had broken off their relationship, both agreeing that they made better friends. But, perhaps because she had left so abruptly not weeks after their breakup, she felt as if she lacked closure.

Which was silly. She wasn't going to travel all the way to Namorn to speak with an old flame about closure.

But it was just another sign of how life had moved on without her. Which was to be expected, she knew. Still ...

Sandry supervised the students transporting her things. She would be living in the spare room at Discipline, the palace being too far to commute. Unconsciously, she fingered the circle of thread she still carried with her at all times. A quiet noise disturbed her thoughts, and she turned to see her great-uncle (with far more white in his hair than she would like).

"I know today is your last day here and you must be terribly busy with preparations," he said apologetically, "but I was wondering if you could entertain our latest guest, Lord Linden. Show him around the palace, the gardens. Something like that. He's about your age, so I'm sure he'd appreciate it more than me as a tour guide; I have an important meeting with the merchants now anyways."

"Of course," Sandry smiled faintly at her uncle.

Duke Vedris watched his niece sweep out of the room with a tinge of sorrow. He remembered a friendlier, far more open Sandry than the one that now smiled only at him, and rarely at that. He prayed that her time at Winding Circle would make her happier.

Briar and the boy sat in the room together, in absolute silence. Briar was already doubting his immediate agreement to this teaching thing. What did he know about teaching?

The boy spoke first. "Master Goldeye says you shall be teaching me, Master ... Moss." He seemed a bit uncertain about the name, and his voice was curiously accented.

"That is true," Briar admitted.

"I am Lo-Ramón, son of Lo-Roann, son of Lo-Goran. My father is the chieftain of the Fireheads, and I hold power over Earth." He looked expectantly at Briar.

So this child was of Nomad heritage, then. Stiff with honor and more accustomed to wandering the uncharted lands up north. Briar briefly wondered why this child was here, now. Nomads rarely left their clans, and even more rarely left their lands. "Call me Briar," he said authoritatively. If there were no authority in his voice, he knew, the boy would take it to be modesty and continue addressing him as Master Moss (a sillier name he'd never heard). He'd had that much interaction with Nomads, at least.

Briar and Lo-Ramón exchanged brief smiles before the younger boy offered, "And you may call me Ramon, if it so pleases you."

"Alright."

Maybe this teaching thing wouldn't be so difficult after all ...

Tris had chosen not to room in Discipline. Returning to Winding Circle was bad enough. Living in that house with all of its memories? Her days would be too haunted by ghosts for anything to be accomplished. She did not envy Briar his new residence in Rosethorn's workroom or Sandry her old residence in her old, empty room at Discipline, or Daja her room in the almost-but-not-quite-familiar forge. Had they all really returned, in the end? Back where they started.

It was obviously, really, the more she thought about it, that this "teaching" they were supposed to do was nothing more than a plot contrived by their own teachers, who wished that the rift in the Circle be mended.

Niko had told her that she hadn't been the only one to abandon the Circle. Not long after her departure, Torero had driven off both Daja and Briar. She had not been surprised at this news, nor sad, nor nostalgic. It sometimes seemed that she had lost her capacity to feel anything but a numbing emptiness after her abrupt withdrawal from the Circle.

But no. Some feelings remained. The rift in the Circle summoned no sorrow from her, but if she dwelled too much on the realization that she hadn't known, that she hadn't sensed, that she hadn't felt because she was no longer part of the Circle ... then, sometimes, she felt a sort of hopelessness. And she could still feel embarrassment, she had discovered. When she first met Briar again, she could not help but recall her small and useless crush on Briar, an infantile notion from days gone past that embarrassed her now that she thought back on it.

After all, everyone then had known that Briar loved Sandry. And she had valued her friendship more than any semblance of a relationship, really. A friendship that she had eventually given up ...

A knock interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see a young boy with white-blond hair and piercing green eyes. How old must he be? Ten? She felt old ...

She waited for him to speak.

"May I come in?"

She nodded acquiescence.

"My name is Tasmindu Weaver, but you can call me Tas. I appear to control the element of Air." He waited, but she didn't speak. "Niko said you were going to be my teacher." More silence. This time, he didn't speak. He waited, patiently.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes of silence passed. Tris nodded approvingly. "I don't know if we have been assigned specific students, but if Niko says so, it must be true."

Tas let out an explosive breath. That fifteen minutes of patience seemed to have been too much for him. "I look forward to learning under you," he chirped, then fled.

To be continued ...

Author's Note: The names are thanks to the suggestions of, I believe, Kirri, Pen Pen, and Kiara. If I missed any acknowledgments, please let me know.