OOC: Well, sorry for the delay. Me and my friends took a break for awhile. I will try to post as little as possible of other povs to make the story clearer, but I may have to post more in the future. And yes, the last section does make reference to meeting someone, that will be cleared up in a flashback a little later.
Once again, I only write the Ember bits. Everything else except my friend's characters belongs to Tamora Pierce.
IC:
Ember looked fearfully at this new place, this place Niko said was now home. She didn't believe him. No matter how much he reassured her, she knew it would only be so long until they found out what she did, and turned her away as everyone else had done. Or hurt her, even... Her golden eyes seemed too big for her face, still bony and thin despite over two weeks of good food. She had had to eat very little, those first few days in Master Niko's company. She had gotten sick after her first good meal, and was restricted to a thin broth of some sort of meat. It was better than what she had eaten before, at any rate; times were scarce in Emelan. Even for thieves.
The girl looked critically upon the cottage, peaceful in the night, the great fire she had caused far behind them. A woman came out of the front door, smiling. Not for long, Amber thought bitterly, hardening her heart.
"Niko!" the woman cried, embracing him. "It's been too long. How have you been?"
"Not bad at all, Lark," he replied, a grin creeping onto his solemn face, then disappearing as quickly as it had come. "But someone's been having a bad night," he spoke, staring pointedly at Ember. Ember smiled sheepishly, before she remembered her image and glared at the house.
"Ah," the woman said, and cocked her head, considering the girl. "You know, I could swear she reminds me of someone..." Lark trailed off, and suddenly she raised her eyebrows. "Oh yes," she said softly. "I have just the room for you..."
"You remember..."
"Niko. I never forget," Lark chided, and took Ember by the arm. "I think you'll like this room," the woman said, quickly striding back into the house, indignant street rat in tow. Through a warm, airy kitchen and into a hallway they went, until Lark stopped and opened a heavy wooden door. "Go on," she said, giving her a shove.
Ember walked inside, taking in the stone walls and roof, the soft bed in the corner on the scoured wood floor. "The door, bed and floor are spelled against fire, along with everything else in the room," Lark whispered. Ember slowly turned round, tears making her eyes bright.
"Thank you," she breathed, scrubbing hastily at her eyes with a sleeve. There was no pity in the other woman's eyes. Only kindness.
"It was no problem," the Dedicate said simply, her eyes twinkling. "I'll leave you to fix up your room." She left, closing the heavy door behind her. As soon as the latch clicked, Ember leapt onto the bed, burying her face in a soft pillow that smelled slightly of herbs.
I think I'm gonna like it here.
x
"Well, Atlanta. I think Discipline is the answer, after all." Niko's eyes held amusement as he regarded her sprawled amid the crushed flowers.
Discipline? Atlanta had wondered, indignant. I fall off a cliff, and he wants to discipline me!
She had found out soon enough what Discipline really was. Refusing to answer any of her insistent queries, Niko had picked Alta off the ground and led her back to her dorm and instructed her to pack her bags. She did so in a sulky silence. The moment she finished, he had led her briskly down one of the temple's many winding paths.
"What is it, Niko? Why do you refuse to tell me?" Atlanta hurried alongside the mage, a bag jammed full of books hooked over one shoulder. The noble's hair was pulled back messily in the semblance of a bun. Lady Clymene had insisted that she wear the golden curls pinned up elaborately or arranged on her shoulders, as befit a noble. So, naturally, Alta had since worn her hair in whatever way struck her fancy. Today's bun had a twig stuck through the center to hold it together. "Is it forbidden? Is it secret?"
A touch of amusement played across Niko's face. "Suffice to say, Atlanta, that I think this place is better adapted to your needs. There is nothing forbidden or secret about it."
Doggedly—but, of course, incredibly polite—Alta continued, a frown creasing her brow. "Niko, this is about the wind just before the flower beds, isn't it? And—" Alta swallowed and forced herself on, "—the lightning, back at the manse…" Unnoticed, a wind cropped up, gusting against Niko's robes and teasing the girl's hair out of its bun.
Suddenly Niko stopped, gesturing with a smile and completely disregarding Alta's question. "Ah, here it is. Your new home."
Atlanta bit off her reply, taking in the sight. The winds died down. A small cottage was at the end of the path; a look about the place claimed, proudly, that its owners loved it and cared for it. The thatched roof had been changed recently, and the surrounding plants flourished without even a hint of disease or dryness. There was no doubt about it; a feeling of… well… peace emanated from the place.
A woman wearing the robe of an Earth dedicate swept out of the cottage, graceful, smiling and catlike. Her demeanor fit that of the cottage—perhaps not the "catlike" bit—and Atlanta warmed to her immediately. "Niko, Atlanta, welcome! Niko's been hinting at your coming here for quite a while now. I'm glad you've finally arrived." Giving the mage a warm smile, she beckoned with a slim hand and led Alta inside. "My name is Lark, and I'm one of the dedicates who runs Discipline. A few others arrived earlier this week; they should be inside somewhere..."
"Hi, Lark," Alta replied shyly, then fell silent. This was someone she actually wanted to be liked by; consequently, she had no idea of what to say or how to act. Instead, she surveyed her new home. Wooden floors, simple furniture; it was plain, but there was nothing wrong with plain. Plain and functional trumped ornamental and useless, in any case. … And what was that flash of dark red in the hallway?
"Oh, Amber!" Lark's voice rang out. "Amber, this is our newest arrival. Atlanta, this is Amber Kaida." The dedicate's eyes caught movement further down the hall. "And Kalah, there you are."
Alta liked the adults she had met so far at Winding Circle. People her age were a different story altogether. So far, they had either tormented her or ignored her, and she much preferred the latter. Her "noble face" had taken its place now, she realized: the mask with a carefully regulated smile, just enough to be friendly but not quite enough to offer that friendship openly. Nodding, Alta greeted, "Hello; nice to meet you, Amber, Kalah. My name is Atlanta."
The "fa Charis" was deliberately left unmentioned. Both girls had the look of street rat about them, and street rats did not take kindly to nobles. Best that they were kept in the dark, then. If that was possible. Surely the girl Leah hadn't spread the knowledge of her lineage to everyone at Winding Circle?
x
I love this place. It's so easy to get around… The thought came from the dark red head nestled in the roof beams, peering down from her shadowed corner. And then, by the time that stupid Bag even thinks of where I am… no more hot water! A childish grin replaced the look of concentration. Healthy. Right. Tormenting stupid thorny old Bag… But then the head of cropped auburn hair stalked underneath her, and she shrunk into her corner a bit more. Scary tormenting stupid very thorny old Bag. Nevertheless, the thought was a bit quieter. Who knew, if someone could be that determined about a bit of washing up, why couldn't they read minds?
Lark passed by purposefully underneath- at least someone isn't out to get me- through the kitchen and out the front door. "Niko, Atlanta, welcome!" Great. Someone else new. As if that other urchin wasn't enough… Speaking of the urchin, look who had appeared. Amber eyes stared penetratingly up at her. In spite of herself, Ember grinned. Figures she would know to look up. Ember leaned over slightly, her hair dipping into the light.
She hissed, "Don't you dare tell Thorny where I-"
"Oh, Amber!" Back in the shadow. "Amber…" Gods. She had been found. Sighing, and trying to ignore the smirk on Kalah's face, she dangled down, hanging her head just far enough to see the pair. The gods must be playing a joke on me, she thought as she looked at the noble. What else could she be, neat blond hair, immaculate expensive dress- and she knew expensive. At a sharp look from Lark- and the fact that Rosethorn was storming past the window outside- she swung to the floor, making no attempt to untangle the rat's nest that was her hair.
"It's Ember," she drawled, crossing her arms. "Though not that that kid would bother to remember a mere street rat's name." Open challenge flamed in her eyes. A flicker of something responded. What, had the girl actually thought Ember would be stupid enough not to know nobility when she saw it? "I have better things to do then grovel," she sneered, turning… straight into an unyielding green habit. Hard, slim fingers clamped down on her ear.
"Young woman or not," Rosethorn snapped, "so Mila help me, I'll drag you by your ear to the baths if I have to." Gods, she's silent, the thief thought in admiration. The grimy youth could do nothing but glare up at her captor and mutter colourfully under her breath. The fingers pinched harder, making her squirm. "And none of that either." Ember's ear twisted and she turned with Rosethorn back to face Lark- and her face flamed when she remembered who else now occupied the house. The street rat's language intensified.