I'd be lying if I said this chapter was not inspired by chapter five of Waiting for the Abyss' Stare by KrisEleven.
A Matter of Time
By icecreamlova
In Which The Circle Burn Down A Barn
- : -
There was something restless about Niklaren Goldeye when he finally joined their meeting, but none of the other four great mages called him out on it - they knew, and furthermore, understood the agitation. They'd all had a moment of epiphany when they realized that, great mage or not, there are some things that power simply cannot solve.
"It's not exactly our choice to make," Rosethorn said quietly.
"Our contribution will probably be the deciding factor," he returned. "The Council will listen to us."
"Once they stop arguing among themselves," Frostpine pointed out.
Rosethorn raised a delicate eyebrow. "Never, then."
"It's worse than Lightsbridge," admitted Niko, "and I've always thought about that place with respect rather than fondness."
"Really?" said Rosethorn. "I'VE never thought about it with either."
A cheek leaned against her shoulder as Lark sat down beside her, across from the chair within which Frostpine reclined. "It's not a laughing matter, Rosie."
"I didn't say it was," the other Earth Temple dedicate retorted.
They looked at each other, even Niko, who had stopped pacing, and now leaned like a string-less puppet against Discipline's whitewashed walls.
What was there to say when, in their heart of hearts, a decision had already been made?
"Where are the troublesome brats, anyway?" Rosethorn wondered.
- : -
The troublesome brats were currently occupied elsewhere.
There was a whimper in the darkness as the last person closed the door behind her with a small click, hand trembling against the metal until she let it go. She pulled the key out of the lock.
"Shh..." another voice murmured. "D'you want us to get caught?"
After a moment, when her eyes had adjusted, she saw it was not dark after all; merely as dim as closing her eyes. Her hand touched the pouch clinging to her neck, dropping the key in.
"Here they are," said Tris, digging behind a haystack for the candles she had left there the day before. She straightened with the stumps in her hand and held it out.
Daja lit each candle with a touch of her brass-covered finger, light leaping suddenly to shadow her dark complexion.
The hand left the pouch with a sigh of relief. Sandry took a look around her-the smell, the hay, the animal they had tethered outside-and, noble that she was, promptly grinned and threw herself backwards.
Tris, Briar, Sandry and Daja were in a barn, for a purpose that the teacher would probably disapprove of.
More specifically, the Circle were in a barn right outside Winding Circle, used as a squat for travelers, and they were there to sample the sophisticated pastime known as getting drunk.
"Do you have it?" she asked from her prone position on the haystacks, smiling as Daja seated herself comfortably, and Tris neatly.
Sometimes, Sandry felt as though Tris were the picky noble, and she just a commoner who cared nothing for rank.
The boy's reply was a whisper across the surface of her mind. Would I forget the most important thing?
Laughter bubbled like boiling water from within Sandry. She felt Tris scowl.
Don't joke about that, snapped the weather mage. We might not get another chance.
Her reluctance, Tris thought, was understandable. It was Sandry who was the most obedient of the trouble-making lot, but it was Sandry who was so bull-headed that plough oxen probably switched paths just to get around her, and when she had decided, she had decided. It had taken just a bit of persuasion ("Don't you want to fit in at Lightsbridge? ... yes, you're going to be interested, or I'll use the lock-picking skills Briar taught - I KNEW you were interested!" Beam) to make her leave her books and sneak away outside Winding Circle to sample this most delicate beverage.
The wineskin opened in Briar's hands, and he grinned. He hadn't tried any since getting hold of his magic.
A sip burned down his throat, and he tossed it to Daja, who eyed it for a moment before trying herself.
So what if he was a plant mage, in a barn filled with dried grass and built of wood, seeds beneath the spot on the ground where he lay?
What could possibly go wrong?
- : -
They were still speaking when the noon hour chimed. Frostpine looked up, perplexed. He did not know Tris, Sandry or Briar nearly as well as his fellow teachers, but he had been certain that the former street rat, at least, would rather brave another earthquake than miss a meal.
Understandable, really, considering what had come of that first earthquake.
Fortunately, there had not been many disasters after that, or the mages' magic might have evolved so much that it rained sardines and money grew on trees after all.
"Then we are agreed?" Niko summarized what had already been established. "We recommend that the council refrain from binding their magic."
A sigh escaped from Lark, who had been waiting - much like Frostpine - but for the arrival of a more important guest. "We can only hope that cooler heads prevail." She looked from Rosethorn to Niko. "There might be unforeseen consequences should they suddenly lose their powers."
A contribution came from an unexpected source. "There is a saying in Mbau that I learned from when I was younger. 'You can run, but a horse runs faster, and earthquakes faster still.' They will become great without prompting. I doubt they could outrun fame. We just need to make sure it's for the right reasons."
Was that a flinch from Niko? wondered Lark.
It was.
"I should be going," he said. "I need to speak to Honored Moonstream-"
Lark shot up. "I forgot to mention it, but Honored Moonstream will be eating midday with us." She nodded at Niko. "I expect it's for the same reason."
It was odd how much his sight could miss, Niko mused as he helped Lark set the places to keep his hands occupied. He had missed that the four children would be away for so long; he had missed that Moonstream would be visiting Discipline. He could only hope that he had not missed the consequences should the council take the other route - granting medallions.
He remembered that day, so many years ago, pirates attacking and Briar and his foster-sisters about to pour life into plants.
They had grown so much since then, in power and in mind. He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.
And really... just what were they doing as their teachers discussed something so serious?
Where were they? he wondered as Honored Moonstream arrived.
- : -
Noon light streamed through holes in rafters, pooling onto piled haystacks, but missing dark corners entirely. Parallel beams and peeks of blue sky greeted Briar as he lay there, looking up through the breaks.
The first sip had done nothing all around, and neither had the second.
There'd been a bit of complaining then, as one or another wondered if he'd snatched the wrong stuff, until Briar retorted that they all knew what alcohol smelled like, and if they thought they knew better, why not brave discovery by (1) Gorse, (2) Rosethorn, (3) Niko or (4) any insanely jealous novice who was angry because Tris had been throwing off sparks a little too brightly or Sandry had given him a dressing down, to try nick some herself?
The complaints had stopped after that, and Sandry had announced her awe that he could actually sneak into the kitchens without getting caught by Gorse.
"I know the feeling," Briar had answered. "I was there, and even I couldn't believe I escaped him."
"Getting too big for your breeches, thief-boy," Tris had said absently.
Another round of the wineskin, making Tris feel a little light-headed.
That was when breezes started twisting around the barn.
In the candle-light, Tris could see Briar sit up. "Quiet down there!" he hissed.
Tris rubbed at her temples, reaching for her magic-there it was-just-out-of-
-come on...
TRIS!
The collective cry of the other three jerked Tris, making her concentration snap, and what brief hold she had on the breeze had disappeared.
At least it's not a cyclone, Briar communicated, flopping down again, defeated.
Sandry had been lying motionless, except for her hand, which would occasionally get a hold of the barn door key. She had held it up and giggled at the idea that anyone would be able to get in without being noticed when she held the key.
Now, she flicked it up in the air so it caught candlelight.
"Don't be paranoid," she said lightly. "Besides, a cyclone's still better than spending more time scrying with Niko."
The four paused for a moment of collective horror at the thought of another few hours spent staring into nothing, mainly because they were all so abysmal at it.
Bar Tris, of course, who actually COULD scry, but Tris had been taking another sip of the wine so she didn't catch the actual words.
"Or working with Crane," was Daja's quiet contribution. "Imagine if he caught us."
There was half a moment's thought this time until the image of an even more draping Crane made them start laughing hysterically.
Up until the moment Sandry realized that the key had gone missing.
Her panic made the others sit up, the tipsy relaxation gone in moments, replaced by frantic digging around the haystack.
"Oh no," moaned Tris. "I knew I shouldn't have..."
"Stolen the key?" supplied Daja, closing her eyes and trying to find the metal of the key, only to come up short, feeling like the key was being pounded into her head. She wasn't drunk - the few sips wouldn't go that far - but she was tipsy enough that magic working was difficult.
They crawled over to Sandry, Briar stopping a moment to remember to grasp a candle to light it up.
A few moments of scrabbling ensued until Sandry noticed a glint of silver, about to topple over on the haystack. She dived for it.
Three guesses about what happened to the candle in her way.
Her skirt caught on fire.
Sandry swore-mildly.
Briar's words were enough to make up for that, as licks of flame from her skirt raced into the dried hay, even as Sandry put out the fire on her skirt.
And when the barn door opened suddenly, Daja and Tris were more than happy to join in.
After all, friends did things together, right?
- : -
"GET BACK HERE!" screeched the caretaker.
Sandry, fumbling with the key, followed the others out of the burning barn.
- : -
While Moonstream spoke with Lark and Niko - the principal teachers - Rosethorn and Frostpine followed Little Bear as he trailed the fours' scents.
"Five copper astrels they're in trouble again," Rosethorn grumbled.
"No bet," said Frostpine cheerfully. "I need my money."
"Those four," said Rosethorn, shaking her head.
They followed Little Bear like a tail as he wound around Winding Circle's many paths, going one way, then doubling back, whining in confusion at cross-roads when the mages' scents had been tainted.
Rosethorn, meanwhile, had been getting very suspicious.
It was a full twenty minutes later that Frostpine felt fire against his magic - coming from outside Winding Circle - not far from the direction Little Bear was taking.
They needed the ten minutes' walk to try and prepare themselves for what could have happened.
"Tris created a cyclone and tore down a barn."
"Too active. Daja made the metal gates start talking."
"Can't hear anything. Sandry decided normal rain was too boring, so spun their magics together to see if they could make it rain tomatoes."
"She doesn't like tomatoes. Briar died and the others brought him back to life."
There was a pause then, as the two teachers regarded each other. Both were aware that, despite the light-hearted atmosphere, the issues surrounding their fledgling students were not at all easily dismissed, and that the last point had been skimming too close to the forbidden truth to be said out loud, in public, or discussed at all. Honored Moonstream had commanded it.
The woman had no doubt been thinking of that very event, when she laid her hands flat against the kitchen table, warded the room, and then begun to discuss Tris, Daja, Sandry and Briar's future prospects.
The teachers had attempted to convey how their students had grown in power and control, as well as maturing enough to understand power. But Moonstream had been equally concerned about the other path - becoming too serious, too devoted, too studious, until magic was everything, and the world lost four that might change it for the better, to studies, or to death, or to prison.
It was a sobering thought.
And that was when Briar ran past Rosethorn with Tris, Daja, and Sandry in tow.
Without a shirt.
Though, as if to make up for it, there was a man with a lit torch chasing after him, screaming bloody murder.
Her heart jumped in her chest as she noticed the smoky dust on his cheeks-then again as she saw that the others were barely better.
"BOY!" she screeched, making him jump in earnest and spin to regard her warily.
His jade-green eyes flicked momentarily to the flame, which had been mostly doused.
A sinking feeling enveloped Rosethorn. Hadn't Discipline been holding onto the key to the shack while the caretaker was away?
On no. What had they done this time?
"You'd think they burned down the barn themselves," Frostpine sounded a little less amused than usual.
That was when Rosethorn started in.
It was enough to make her start talking him down - making use of her verbal whipping boy, though he so richly deserved it in this case. What had he been thinking? Why did he smell of alcohol-had he been DRINKING? And the other three! What sort of idiots were they? How could they be so... so... so immature?
The barn owner tried to interrupt but his fury seemed to dim in comparison to Rosethorn's, and, cowed, shrunk behind the four unfortunate students.
How could they act this way, right after the teachers had been trying to convince Moonstream to give them their medallions?
Tris tried to interrupt, but couldn't seem to find the words as Rosethorn's confession sank in.
Didn't they realize, she wanted to ask, what they had done to their teachers over the years? The terror that had whipped through the people who loved them, knowing that four lives were at stake, and the hundreds that hinged on them?
And Sandry-where was the key? She thanked Sandry, sharply, when the noble handed it back meekly-knowing that the trust that had come with it was gone-and was about to start on another round when a voice from behind interrupted her.
"What is going on?" asked Moonstream.
The four 'mature enough to earn medallions' children gulped.
Rosethorn froze. Frostpine decided that, the next time he was on his deathbed, he would expressively ban a retrieval if this was what he returned to. Lark, behind Moonstream, shook her head in resignation.
And Niko, staring from one childish, shell-shocked face to another, frozen in a moment with mishap rather than darkness-though it would be only a matter of time, he knew... that bastard, as Briar called his teacher in his head then, just stood there and laughed.
- : -
END
Finished! Gah. Not my best work. I need more practice writing humor, 'cause it's not coming out.