This is cross-posted from another's folder for sanity's sake. Realized this story might get large. :D

The letter had only been the start- it was the match that lit the fire, so to speak. Mior had done as it demanded. Notified her school she'd be gone and had little idea of when she'd be back. Taken a handful of spell-books and the personal spell-book she herself was filling. Her wand and cloak stashed away in a couple of bags. Clothing packed away. Sam followed along, the only one truly gleeful about what was coming, because it was different. It would be an adventure, and that was a statement none of them could refute. Knowledge said they would be taken home, interrogated, and held until the council decided whether or not they were safe to let go. That was what had been done before, it was the only thing that made solid sense. They could deal with that, perhaps unhappily, but it could be done.

It didn't take long for her black cloak to come back out, and wand as well. This kind of travel made her nervous, she'd rather not feel the need to change part way through. Better to wear them and have done, than not and regret it. Sam slipped in. Laid five knives out on her cloak, all sheathed and only a few inches long, and leaned back against the bed to watch her pack one final bag. The half dozen books, in one compartment, jewelery in the other. "I feel like we're walking into trouble, Your boy seems to think the same."

Mior didn't startle, but she did spare that moment to look over her shoulder at the other woman. "Yes. We are." Stated simply. The cat that wasn't really such had gotten far too observant for her liking. Her own illusions had settled firmly into shape, it would be interesting to strip them, bare the cat beneath, and replace them. The fact that she might really have to do that hadn't fully occurred to her yet, it would in time. "They won't like what I can do. There will be much trouble when I demonstrate why I have to stay. That magic isn't evil, and here is why it may be useful." At "here" she zipped up the bag, and turned to face her familiar. Today, she'd tweaked the spells so that she looked the opposite of the Diplomat. Ivory skin, long limbed grace. A certain measure of defiance in silver eyes, a bit of an edge that murmured 'danger" to any mind listening.

"The path of most resistance, eh?" Dry humor there, she could almost find it amusing.

"Aye."

"Are we ready for it?"

"Ready doesn't matter. We have to be."

With that, Mior crossed back to the bed, grabbing the cloak and eying the knives for a moment before slipping them onto her person. Two in wrist sheathes, two in her boots, one at the small of her back. The loose pants she wore made it an easy matter, as with the soft boots and long sleeved shirt. Clothing plain, light colors. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, and stood out against the black of the cloak. Wand in her left hand. A nod to the Cat, and she gestured to the door. "Let's go.?

Bags gathered easily between them, the three were light enough, and they were off to find Nicholai.

If they were walking into trouble, let them go with heads held high. They didn't know it was bigger than they anticipated, any of them, big enough to cause change from the normal-big enough to cause whispers of betrayal.

The compound stood in the middle of town, or near enough to it, anyway. Though it hadn't been discussed, the pair would be cutting through the Market on the way to where Nich most likely was. Sam leaned back against the door frame, letting Mior double check all the locks and dismantle the meager defenses they'd worked.

"Think we'll be back?" For as feral as she looked, there was a clear note of worry in Sam's voice. She moved away from the door as Mior came out.

Silence stretched for a moment, Mior glanced at her sideways, left hand flat against the door. An inaudible *pop*, a small bit of power coming back. Sam leaned rather casually on the railing, white dress only revealing her shoulders, covering the rest. She watched through half lidded eyes, posture saying all the right things, but voicing the truth.

"I think we'll be back. They do this to us now and then, to make sure we haven't turned traitor or anything." She paused for a moment and nodded. "I think we'll be back. There's just no telling how long we'll be gone." She picked up the bags as spoke, noticing that Sam held hers with both hands.

Off the porch, and through the Market, both weaving through the crowd. No one commented on their contrast, but perhaps that was for the best. It wasn't until the fountain Sam spoke again. "They done this to you before?" Not phrased like a question, but a lilt in the inflection made it so. Mior looked over at her then, for all the good it did her. She still looked utterly unperturbed.

The fountain was as good a place as any, so she stopped there. Set down the bags, stretching as she spoke, readjusting her cloak. Sam took up post beside her, taking only a moment to go to crowd watching, looking unconcerned. Mior knew it was bull, just wasn't going to call her on it yet.

"Yes. Though, it was a requirement. My first year on an assignment. The letter was phrased differently, but...people change." So she kept telling herself.

"Ahh."