Miss Moony would like to say that she doesn't own Harry Potter or Circle of Magic and that she had no help with this story from Miss Wormtail, Miss Padfoot or Miss Prongs.

Miss Moony would also like to mention that this story is SLASH, contains psychological abuse, and parts are seen through the eyes of an insane person. Consider yourself warned.

------- I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good -------

Chapter 1

No… Please… No more… No… Blood… Blood… Gushing… Pouring… Dead… All dead… Hello? … Somebody? … Anybody? …

A small, desperate voice called out into the abyss. 'Please don't leave me…'

It was the twentieth day of Goose Moon, and Briar Moss was eagerly anticipating the surprise that his foster-sisters and the Circle's various students had prepared for him. He was hoping it would include birthday cake.

He had come a long way since his days in the slums of Hajra, and he wouldn't change that for anything. He now had a home, at Winding Circle Temple in Emelan, three foster-sisters, Sandry, Daja and Tris, and a teacher that he idolised, Dedicate Rosethorn. He even had his own student, Evumeimei Dingzai of Yanjing. And, to top it all, Briar Moss, at the age of thirteen, had become one of the youngest accredited mages in Emelan.

Today was his eighteenth birthday, and he was relaxing on the roof of Discipline Cottage, having had Sandry and Evvy forbid him to work.

'Pahan Briar,' Evvy called from the bottom of the stepladder that led up to the thatch. 'We're ready for you downstairs.'

'Coming,' Briar called down to her, getting up and climbing down the stepladder. Evvy grinned up at him from the small corridor of the cottage's upper floor. 'Hi, Evvy,' he said, seeing her.

'Happy birthday, Pahan,' she said.

Briar grinned back at her, his stomach rumbling, and asked eagerly, 'Is there cake?'

Silence… So quiet… Death… Death… No… Not again… Not you too, Ron… You're my family, too… Not again… Please… Go… Just go…

The abyss seemed to stretch onwards for an eternity. Dulled emeralds stared up from within it.

Briar sat at the table in Discipline Cottage, a large piece of cake on a plate in front of him.

Evvy laughed, joining him at the table, and he grinned at her. 'You ready for your next lesson, Evvy?' he asked, laughing inwardly as her face fell.

'You wouldn't, Pahan,' she said. 'We're supposed to be celebrating today.'

Briar out-right laughed at the horrified expression on her face as she said that. 'Your right,' he said, clutching a stitch that was building up in his side, 'I wouldn't.'

Her relief showed and, free of worries of work, she went over to talk to Sandry's student, Pasco.

Briar? he heard h voice in his head, and recognised the familiar mental voice of Tris.

Yeah, he said. What's wrong?

I was just going to ask you if you knew, was the answer.

Briar mentally raised his eyebrows. –Meaning…?

Something's up with Niko, she said

Briar looked over to where the older man sat, massaging his temples with his hands and leaning heavily on the other end of the table. I don't know, he said. Have you asked Sandry and Daja?

Yes, she replied. They don't have any more of an idea than you or I do.

Briar mentally rolled his eyes. Why don't you ask him then?

He could sense Tris glaring at him, and he saw her walk over to him and get his attention. They had a brief conversation before he left the room with Tris in tow.

Dark… So dark… I don't like the dark… Lumos… Lumos… Please… Don't leave me here… Lumos… Lumos solem…

A pale-as-death face looked out over the darkness, blood-red lips forming the words, 'Why isn't it working? …'

Tris, Briar asked. Where are you going?

Niko's going to show me what's bothering him, she said. You, Sandry and Daja can look through my eyes if you want.

Thanks. Briar's vision instantly shifted, and he felt Sandry's and Daja's doing the same. Tris was crouched over a bowl of liquid. Briar inwardly groaned; she was trying to see a vision. The liquid in the bowl flickered with a small amount of magic.

A boy, about Briar's age, was crouched in a brightly lit alleyway that Briar recognised to be in the Summersea Market. His legs were tucked in close to his chest, and he scratched desperately at his right hand with his left. Briar could see faint scarring there, forming words that he couldn't decipher. His right hand clenched, as if holding an invisible sword, and he began muttering. 'Lumos… Lumos solem…' A weak flame flickered into life in his hand before spluttering out. The boy seemed distraught. 'Why isn't it working? …'

The vision ended, and Briar found himself seeing through his own eyes once more. What does it mean? he asked Tris.

That there is an untrained Mage out there, she said, and we need to find him. At least you'll be getting your wish; it seems that there's going to be another boy in Discipline.

Briar grinned.

Alone… No one here… Gone… Dead… Dead… All my fault… Murderer… Hermione? … Ron? … Moony? … Padfoot? … Mum? … Dad? … Neville? … Ginny? … Luna? … Hello? … Murderer…

A choked sob. 'I'm sorry…'