Notes: Based off of the 1 Sentence Community's Epsilon Set. Pairings only if you squint, for I didn't purposefully mean to include any specific ones.
Spoilers: Don't read if you haven't read Circle of Magic, Circle Opens, and Will of the Empress; spoilers for all books in the series, bar the new one about Evvy.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Circle series; that belongs to Tamora Pierce. I am also not a member of the LJ 1 Sentence Community, for I have no LJ.
Tris gestures when she uses magic, and the others need no explanation to know that it is because she needs to think through what she does with her deadly powers.
She looks at him, and wonders when he grew out of the scruffy street rat she met so long ago.
They are still young, but they haven't believed themselves invincible for a long time; beating the Empress's mages makes them think that maybe they are when they work together.
They are so used to being the last to be told anything that it is still a novel surprise to be among the first to know important information now that they have returned to Emelan.
"You're wrong," he tells her, hands smoothing her hair, "you will be a good ruler."
Tris is stern and unyielding, but when she visits Glaki she smiles and talks kindly.
She is the only one left, and so it falls to her to light the candles for all who have come before.
There are thousands of mages, but they were lucky enough to have found each other despite the odds.
He once wished to perhaps become a king of thieves, like the Thief Lord, but now he simply wants to take care of his plants and tease the girls.
She has learned much, and all of it serves to indicate that her powers cannot bring her money the way that the others' will.
His hands are a blur, and not even the girls can see him stealing even if they know he is doing it.
She waits for them to return, and imagines all that they can once more do together when they reunite.
They had all changed so much in three years apart, but it didn't take that long to discover that they hadn't changed out of all recognition.
Sandry had the unconscious air of command, but the others loved to deflate it.
"Hold me," she whispered, and the others' arms tightened around her in response as she sobbed from the loss of her favorite relative.
They had thought that they didn't need each other to live, but the Empress unwittingly taught them that they were mistaken.
Her sight is terrible without her glasses, but she can see so much without their help.
They stand, almost mockingly, at attention as Duke Vedris looks them over after they return from Namorn, but the pose breaks almost immediately as they start goofing around with each other.
Briar once risked his life to bring Rosethorn back; he would give his soul to keep the girls from going through what he did in Yanqing.
She hired an artist to paint them, once, and she keeps the large picture in her bedroom at the palace, where no one can hear her talk to it while the others are away.
Only fools put so much trust in each other, and so together, they cross the line.
"Briar Moss, get back here right now!" Tris hollers, lightning snapping from her braids.
"You have a kid?" Briar demanded, eyes wide; "she's adopted," Tris shot back, furious and red-faced.
The here and now is where she must live, but sometimes when she looks at her staff she sees different patterns on it.
The shadow of all they have lost hangs over them, but it is ignored in favor of all that they still have.
The funeral service was grand, as befitted royalty, but four young people stayed behind afterwards to speak privately to the grave of a patron and great-uncle.
Tris hides her powers, Briar his memories of Yanqing, Sandry her insecurities, and Daja her fears.
All of them were aware of Sandry's status, but none of them had expected her fortune to be quite so impressive.
Sometimes, she needs to look at her shrine for the dead and remind herself that her new family has not joined the old.
When they're apart, sometimes he still sees the girls, walking through his mind and talking him through; sometimes it's the only thing that keeps him sane.
"Briar Moss," Tris growled, looking up from her now sopping wet book through water-soaked curls.
Niko sees much, but even his eyes had not predicted the merging of four powerful mages.
When they were children, they thought that they would never grow apart; now that they are adults, they hope that they will never lose each other again.
None of them can carry a tune, but that doesn't stop the occasional humming as they do their work.
It was a sudden decision to weave all of them together, but it was a slow process to come together after so long apart.
She can't stop seeing images on the wind, but she can do something about what she sees.
Time heals all wounds, but Sandry still shakes from the dark, Tris still fears to be loved, Daja still worries about ghosts, and Briar yet dreams of nights in the dark when an Emperor went mad.
The sight of the copper-haired weather witch doing dishes and other chores was a regular sight at the house she lived in with her foster-sister and –brother, despite the fact that the three hired a house-keeper and most mages thought themselves above such mundane work.
Whenever she is torn by her new duties, the others show up and whisk her away until she has recovered her balance.
Theirs is a history of ups and downs, fights and laughs, disease and war; but they wouldn't have it any other way.
They are powerful alone, more so together, and all who hear of them know fear and envy and all who know them know exasperation and amusement.
"Chime, stop bothering Daja," Tris orders, "or I'll let Bear eat you."
"Trader Koma and Oti Book-keeper keep my family safe while we are apart."
The walls between them have cracks, but it will take more time before the walls have the possibility of crumbling completely.
"Briar, put some clothes on!" Daja's voice echoed through the small house.
"The noise of girls chattering is going to put me out of my mind," Briar complains to Rosethorn when they return from Namorn; "You should've thought of that seven years ago, boy," she snorts, completely unsympathetic.
"Do no harm" is the way of Winding Circle; the four look at their hands stained with blood, and wonder how such killers came from a peaceful temple.
They are her most precious possession, and she will never let them go again.
"Bear is going to eat us out of house and home," Briar whines; "Not if you beat him to it," the girls counter.
"Believe in our Circle," she begs; "always," they respond.