[Author's note: This story is, as most are, a work in progress. And I'm not known for writing in sequential order. Thus, check this update for new sections!

Newest chapter up: Fifth of five, entitled Flame Demonstration. Ealin reaches deeper into the new relationship she's formed with the Wisewoman to broaden their fledgling trust and explore the talent she's been avoiding.

So! Carry on! Reviews are highly appreciated and will be returned. ..within time.]

The wildflowers were blooming again. She ran her fingers through the sea of brilliantly colored petals like the fingers of the wind. Wandering lazily, she picked strands of heather and leaves of thyme, and a hundred others she did not know what to call. Light had come hours ago, but as she studied the cold sky, she could not help but sigh. The sun had hidden again. He had pulled the clouds about him as a cloak against the mortal world. That cloak had been around for a month now. What were the humans doing to make Him so ashamed? She vowed to go to the family temple in the evening with a floral offering to pray for sunlight.

"Ealin!" a strong voice beckoned. "Ealin you rascal, where are you hiding?"

She turned toward the sound of the voice, and saw her elder brother as he crested the rolling hill. With a shriek of laughter and joy she dropped the basket of flowers and flew away from him on flighted feet, bare toes flirting between blades of emerald grass as she ran.

"Child! He yelled in exasperation, though she was a full sixteen, and he only two years older. He tromped reluctantly after her, large black boots flattening the wonderful wildlife in his wake.

The spritely sixteen-year-old soon tired, and this is when the brother had learned to pounce. Charging through the meadow, he scooped up his sister, collapsed on his back, and rolled around a bit, tickling, prodding and otherwise tormenting his baby sister. The two landed at the bottom of the small hill, panting and laughing, in a heap of skirts and cloaks and clumps of grass.

"Forsooth, little one, I thought we were beyond this." The brother heaved, propping himself on an elbow, straightening his rumpled tunic and picking leaves and sticks out of Ealin's long and somewhat disheveled yellow hair. His soft green eyes met her hazels eyes, and they both smiled.

"You've been away too long, Tyrian. I'd begun to think you lost from us for good!" Ealin exclaimed, her long white fingers tweaking his dirt- smudged nose.

"'Tis true, sprite. I almost was, but I got word from Mother's women that I was needed." And here the two smiles fell.

"Yes, they are worried.. The sickness that took the village reached her in her work, and while they seem to have staved off the worst of it, their cures have failed. They are hoping that your knowledge from this university of yours might help." Ealin rolled some so that she could hoist herself off the ground, spun around some to loosen up her twisted skirts, and offered an arm to Tyrian who still lay prone in the grass. He smiled, gripped her forearm, and pushed himself up to stand next to her.

"You are stronger than last I saw you." He remarked.

"And you only grow more handsome. You have the look of Father in you." But this was not the right thing to say. Tyrian's brow creased, showing deep lines of worry and thought that had not shown themselves before. Ealin frowned. She sought for a different subject. "Why have you cone for me?" she asked softly, and Tyrian's frown slackened.

"You know more of the nature of this mystery illness than anyone. And you have the magic. Before I meet with Mother, I meant to discuss things with you."

"Ah," she sighed, and the two began the walk back towards the manor. Tyrian linked arms with his little sister, and took up the forgotten flower basket as they passed.

"They tell me it seems like a pox infection." Tyrian offered, beginning the conversation he had meant to have.

"Yes," Ealin stated. "It has all the familiar symptoms. There's the constant fever and the spots on her skin. Her lips burn blue, and her tongue is coated with a white substance. But she resists all help the healers have tried. Willowbark tea seems to make the fever only worse, and the local healers can find nothing to ease her pain. They've begin bleeding her. An arcane treatment, I know! But they're growing disheartened."

"Indeed. Well I shall see what I can do. And your skills." he offered. "What yse are they?"

"The healers fear me for it. They say it can only harm."

"For shame!" Tyrian expelled. If they are willing to bleed her, certainly they should be willing to allow a little magic. And from the patient's own daughter! And of her own skill!" He sighed explosively. It was as he had thought.

After a lengthy pause during which they met the dirt path that lead to their home, Tyrian breached a new subject. A much more fragile one. "And how fares my brother?" he asked. "My twin."

"Oh, Kaesor does well enough. He hardly leaves Mother's chambers now. His wife and daughter were taken by the sickness in the village. He refuses to lose his mother to it as well."

"And is he doing any good?" Tyrian demanded, a spiteful spark lighting deep inside his emerald eyes.

"He does little but hold her hand," Ealin admitted, and Tyrian snorted. "But his courage seems to give Mother strength, that that's what matters, isn't it?" But she knew that her brother had stopped listening. That particular feud ran too deep and stretched too far. And though she had never dared say so, Ealin knew it was her mother's fault. Love for the first twin had always been immediate, and the second, Tyrian, had remained always an afterthought.

The two siblings finished their walk in silence.

"Good even', Lord and mi'Lady." The mounted guard stated as the gate was opened. The light had begun to wane. The siblings bowed and curtseyed as they endered , and stared up at the sparkling edifice of their home. More elaborate than a manor in truth, it was a veritable palace, with eight bedrooms, twelve sitting rooms, three parlors, and four dining halls, most with large fireplaces. Its title, Moorwick Manor, was a bit of an endearment, meant to make the place seem quaint. It quite successfully failed.

"Dine with me tonight, sis?" Tyrian asked. "I have enough research and paperwork to keep me entertained for the rest of this day. I think I shall take on the meeting between Mother and myself when the light comes again."

Ealin smiled and curtseyed, taking the flowerfilled basket from her brother's arm. "In your chamers, then." She agreed with a smile. "I've but to leave these picking in my rooms and change into something less grass- stained before any of the maids see me." And with a bit of a skip, she flew up the main set of marble steps and towards her suite.