Camilla wasn't sure what she had expected when the general of magic summoned her and her husband to the tower, but it certainly wasn't a child.

However, the second her eyes landed on the skinny, disheveled elemental that now walked between them, all her apprehension disappeared. The request had gone from watching a potential danger to doing what she could to aid the girl.

Rhom was still uncertain, but that was fine. He and Sorrel had always been more cautious than her. It was a valuable trait, and one that enabled her to settle on trusting the child. After all, as long as Rhom was there to watch her back, everything would turn out alright in the end.

Their trek through the village was quiet and slow. The falling sun cast heavy shadows over the buildings, leaving an unsettling sensation of eyes in the dark. It was made worse by the fact they were probably real. Whatever faith Allura had in them, she doubted it extended to the child. Victim or not, the Circle had caused too much damage over the years for this walk to go unfollowed. If the girl noticed, she showed no sign of it.

Rhom had offered to carry her, but the instant refusal via curling black smoke had put an end to the idea. It made the trip longer than it might have been, but it was worth it. Pushing the girl's boundaries so early would break what little, nonexistent trust existed between them.

When they finally arrived home, they paused outside the door and allowed the child to stare her fill. Camilla couldn't help but wonder what she thought of their house. It was a simple canopy estate with just enough room for their family of three and a guest. The thought eased some of the knot in Camilla's chest. They had always intended that room to house more than visitors.

A minute turned to ten as the girl stared. Eventually, Rhom cleared his throat and stepped past her to ease the door open. "Come in, it'll grow cold once the sun falls. It'll be better to be inside, then."

Despite the flimsy nature of his excuse, the girl moved forward without complaint. Camilla followed her, eyes trailing over the wild expanse of the child's hair. The first order of business, she decided, would be food, then getting her clean and trimmed.

"Here, this way," she said, slipping by the girl.

They entered the kitchen and as Rhom pulled out a chair for the child, Camilla pulled a sandwich from their icebox. "I had this ready for Sorrel, but I'm sure he'll be fine waiting for something else when he returns."

As expected, silence was her only response. But, as she watched, the girl picked up one of the triangles and began to eat. It would have to be good enough for now.

"Watch her," she told Rhom. "I'll be back in a moment."

After his nod of agreement, she left to prepare the bathroom. Their warming gems were still charged, so it only took a minute to finish. Next came a set of clothing--one of Camilla's old shirts, it would be like a dress on the child--laid with a pair of scissors and a brush. By the time she returned to the kitchen, the child had finished eating and was sitting patiently as Rhom filled the empty air with chatter.

"--tonight, I would think. Left nearly a month ago, that one. Of course, licensing exams are always a big deal, so I shouldn't be surprised. He's a bright one, our Sorrel. I don't doubt he'll return with B rank. Or A!"

"Those are different exams, dear," Camilla reminded him, before refocusing her attention. "I'll clean those up later. Come along, I've prepared a bath."

Before they could climb the staircase, the front door swung open. As if he had been summoned by Rhom's bragging, Sorrel's familiar voice chimed a greeting. The sudden noise must have startled the elemental, because her figure nearly disappeared behind the sudden, thick layer of smoke that swirled around her body.

"I--it's fine. You're fine," Camilla attempted to reassure her. "It's just Sorrel."

"Mom?" His call was followed by the sound of footsteps. She cursed, wishing, for once, that her son wasn't so well mannered as to want to greet her the moment he returned. 

The girl's gaze searched past Camilla, landing on where Sorrel no doubt stood. She could only hope he didn't look intimidating at that moment. Mages often returned from missions in varying states of unsettling disarray--there had been more than one occasion in which she'd had to clean blood out of his clothing--but this had just been an exam.

This in mind, she squatted down before the girl, her hands carefully laid over her knees, palm up. It was as unthreatening as she could make herself.

"I'm not sure how much Rhom told you, but Sorrel is Rhom and I's son. He's fourteen, a bit older than you," she explained, then faltered. Without a name for the child, she wasn't sure how to introduce them. "Sorrel, this is our...new guest."

The girl continued to stare over Camilla's shoulder. She still seemed wary, but there was no alarm in her gaze as the smoke slowly cleared away. Perhaps she had seen the family resemblance that reflected Camilla's words. It was always said that her son mirrored her more than Rhom. His chin length, soft brown hair, and black eyes were a clear reflection of her own. Even his height, on the shorter average of his age, seemed to come from Camilla.

"Sorrel, say hello," she said after an extended pause.

"Uh, hey. Hello. You're...?"

When he trailed off, obviously expecting a response, Camilla felt unasked questions begin brimming in the air. Hoping to head them off, she twisted around, gaze searching for her husband. "Rhom, could you--?"

"Ah, right. Sorrel, why don't you come in here, I'll explain a bit more..."

The second they left the hall, the rest of the girl's tension seemed to drain away. Camilla brightened her smile, before nodding towards the stairs. "Shall we continue?"

The girl studied her for a moment, then nodded. Thankful the situation had been settled, Camilla straightened and began leading her to the bath once again. Once inside, it was easier to coax the girl out of her clothing and into the warm water than she had expected. That wary edge was still obvious in the girl's gaze, but she didn't argue.

It was unsettling how quickly the water changed color. They had obviously made an effort at the hospital to clean her, but even then, it hadn't been enough to remove the layers of neglect. Camilla ended up draining the water twice--mostly for her own comfort of mind--before they were finished.

The result was an unsettling understanding of the exact state of the girl's body.

Her skin had a clear pallor, and was lighter than any child in the village. Which was difficult when one considered how little sunlight made it past the heavy Whistriel canopies.

Each of her ribs could be counted without effort and Camilla's forefingers could have encircled her wrist with room to spare. Most of her hair was tangled, dead, and not worth saving. In the end, with a careful explanation of what she was doing after the girl jerked away from the scissors, Camilla reluctantly trimmed her hair to just below her ears. Once it grew out again she would take the rest.

"There, I'm sure that feels better," she announced when finally finished. The task had taken longer than expected given the number of times she had to pause to subtly rub her eyes. She traded the scissors for her brush as the girl gave no clear reaction. "When we pick up some clothing, I'll have to buy a few hairclips for you. It will keep your bangs away until they're long enough to tuck away again."

Again, no response. Camilla bit her lip, but reminded herself there was no reason to be discouraged by the silence. She had just arrived and all the evidence spoke of the reasons the child no doubt had to be wary. Time would be the only solution.

"Here, I brought this."

She beckoned the girl to stand, before helping her into Camilla's shirt. As expected, it would easily function as a faux dress until more appropriate clothing could be purchased. Next, she ushered her from the room, leaving the tub to drain. The guest room wasn't far. Soon, she'd settled the girl in bed and tucked the blanket carefully into place. While she'd made no request to rest, the way her head had slowly drifted to her chest during the haircut had made it clear exactly how tiring the entire process had been.

"Sweet dreams, dear."

Downstairs, Camilla found Rhom settled at the kitchen table. At her arrival, he stood to pour a cup of tea. She settled at the table, her eyes skimming the room.

"Where's Sorrel?"

"His mentor wanted to treat the team to dinner for passing the exam," he explained. "He wanted to stay, but I told him to go. It isn't everyday you reach C class."

Warmth flooded her chest. "He passed?"

"With flying colors," Rhom confirmed, setting the tea before her. "All three of them. Even Leander."

"Good."

Silence settled in the room, giving Camilla's ample mind ample time to drift back to the bath. Her hands tightly encircled her cup, a thin worry digging into the depths of her thoughts.

"I saw something--" she paused, then restarted her sentence. "I think the healers missed something. Or, the general didn't think to tell us, which seems unlikely."

Rhom's eyes flicked to her as he returned to his seat. Wariness sparked in his gaze as he obviously picked up on her apprehension. "What is it?"

"A seal," she murmured. "Void magic, I think. The mana signature was subtle, making it hard to read."

"It can't be to suppress her mana," Rhom surmised as he raised his own cup.

Camilla shook her head. "It can't. Her magic is too obvious. I think it...I think it's a curse."

The cup slipped from his hands. Tea spread across their table, but his eyes remained on her, disbelieving. "A curse?"

"She's eleven, Rhom." Her voice cracked. "What sort of mage curses a child?" 

He shook his head, obviously not having an answer anymore than she had. In leu of one, he stood, walking his cup to the sink.

"I'll go back when Sorrel returns," he decided. "It's important they know, if they didn't already."

꧁༺ ༻꧂

In the days that followed her arrival, Sorrel came no closer to understanding the mystery of his new "sibling," than he had been in the beginning.

His father's initial explanation had consisted of an obvious lie. 'An old friend of your mother's asked if we could take her in. They were going through some difficulties. So, she'll be staying with us for the time being.'

No distant relation of theirs had ties to elementals. If they had, his mother would've had more information to give him when he'd had to write a report last fall. When he pointed that out to his father, the man grimaced, then told him it was better to trust the lie. Apparently it was the story the general had asked them to tell.

The girl had come from the tower.

That, when combined with the girl's oddities, led him to more questions than Sorrel could count. But, he was smart enough to know when to leave well enough alone--and therefore left them all unasked. He hadn't gotten as far as he had at his age by probing tower secrets.

Besides, he had enough on his hands studying for the next exam. Their mentor insisted that furthering their license was the most important thing they could be doing right now. 'You don't want to be caught at C rank when war breaks out. That will get you on the front lines as fodder.'

Sorrel shuddered, flipping to the next page in his textbook. Before he could focus on it, however, a light cough pulled his attention from his thoughts and studies. It forced him to pull his elbow to his face, covering the series that followed.

"Did you take your medicine this morning?"

Of course his mother would find him in a coughing fit. He nodded when it finished, a sheepish smile on his face. "Yeah, before training."

She sighed. "You were training in this humidity?"

He braced himself for the lecture that would no doubt follow, but was surprised as his mother glanced at the window, then shook her head. "We'll talk more about that later. I need to go pick up the clothing I ordered before five, then manage a few other errands. You'll have to watch her while I'm gone."

She gestured behind her as she spoke. As often seemed to be the case, the girl had tucked herself behind his mother's legs. The loose shirt she wore, bunched at her waist with a lace belt, told Sorrel exactly why his mother was in a hurry to reach the store before it closed.

"I'm supposed to meet the others at the bakery," he complained, attention flicking back to his mother. "I told you about it last night."

She swore, then winced. Sorrel resisted the urge to laugh, knowing his mother wouldn't appreciate any commentary on her attempts to keep her language clean in front of the girl.

"Take her with you," she decided after a moment.

"But--"

"It's that, or cancel," she interrupted. "Please."

He groaned. Now he understood why Rena was always complaining about her younger sister. His mother seemed to take the noise as compliance, because she stepped back into the hall, calling thanks over her shoulder.

The girl lingered in the doorway, those unsettling silver eyes digging into Sorrel's own. When she made no move to come closer, or leave, after a minute had passed, he reluctantly closed his book and stood.

"Well, c'mon, I guess. It'll take longer to get there with the two of us, so we might as well leave now." 

A/N: Fun fact, this entire chapter is new material! In the previous draft, after Allura offered to let the girl stay in the village, the story skipped ahead to where the next chapter begins. This time around, however, I decided it was a bit too abrupt. So, family bonding! 

Hope you enjoyed! 

Next week we finally get to see a certain someone again~ See you then.