Abery stopped and pressed his large ears against the door. It shouldn’t have been that hard with the door being a sliding paper screen, but the house was more awake now. It had started doing house things, he wasn’t sure what this manse’s ‘thing’ was but anti eavesdropping was a part of it.

The place was quiet sound stopped dead at the threshold of a door. Nor did groan as an old house should. Everything that happened here was subdued quieted. Yet, at the same time, the tree’s rustle sounded only a room away. The babbling streams around the back ever at the edge of hearing.

It was unsettling.

Abery took a deep breath and held the tray close to his chest, careful not to spill of tea as he opened the door and peeked through. He was ready for a shouting matching, or a deadly exchange of barbed words, and thinly veiled slurs. His eyes darted about the room as he stepped in.

His fears had not manifested. Lord Rhevier and Miss Two were seated as they always were. The former scowling and the latter smiling. It was almost creepier than the hush.

“Repeat in your own words,” Rhevier said. His voice was smooth like his sisters. But while the Lady always filled her’s with humour, his drowned in boredom. A flat drone that could’ve lulled Abery to sleep if its user didn’t looked so frightening. If their eyes weren’t so cold.

Abery deposited their cup of tea, black and medicinal, and they took it without a glance.

“The first cycle is that of self, in it a cultivation moulds their desires, thoughts, bodies, their very essence into a new greater whole.” He delivered her tea, and she offered him a light smile. “A cultivator must decide who and what they are going to be. Crafting something that can endure and accolade the later cycles. Those at this level are called individuals.”

“Passable,” Rhevier said.

Two took a sip of the lightly sweetened ginger blend. “I’m thankful for your praise, teacher.” She said with a smile that looked genuine, but Abery knew couldn’t be.

He’d seen them meet. She’d looked… somewhere between tired and disappointed. Like something had gone very wrong, and she was mad for thinking it wouldn’t, al thatl topped by bleak acceptance. Abery shuddered, It had not been a pleasant look.

There was none of that now. Two sat with a straight back clad one of the dresses Grandma had sent. Golden flower painted a meadow on the sky blue silk and her smile perfected the image of a studious sound lady.

He retreated to his corner and sat on the chair she’d told him to put there. The room was gloomy, Abery had installed curtains after the second time Lord Rhevier had pulled out the light. A small lantern sat on Two’s desk providing just enough light for her to work.

The Two strange people stared at each other, and for the life of him Abery couldn’t figure out why.

He almost jumped when Rhevier spoke. “Two you are a student I expect you to ask questions when asked. I am tired of repeating myself.”

Two went for a fraction of a y before an apologetic smile broker across her face. The scratched the back of their head. She nodded, “Individuals, doesn’t that imply that before reaching the first cycle we aren’t really people?” she said the words softly. In a tone that was uncertain and shy but sent shiver up his spine.

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Miss Two frightened Abery, and after weeks, he still couldn’t put his finger on why. They were nice, polite to a degree Grandma would accept even if they didn’t know all their manners. But when she looked at him and he noticed her tone pitch just so. Something in the back of his brain screamed. It told to run and hide lest the big bad thing gobble him up.

Then he’d blink and see a girl a few years older than him with a kind smile that treated him well. It was easy to forget the smile was a lie. Was the kindness fake too?

He almost missed the Lord’s reply. “That you aren’t.” Abery cringed as the weight of that struck him. Two merely blinked. Rhevier took an annoyed breath. “Mortals are weak, ephemeral, flexible things. There are countless ways to muddle the mind, paths wholly committed to the subversion of personhood. The Salen are experts in this ‘art’.” They spat the final word.

“But higher cultivators do not need expertise or effort to warp the mortal heart. Their mere presence can break and twist thoughts. So yes, Individuals. For only by beginning the first cycle can one hope to maintain their self from threats within and without.”

A new terror spilt from The Lord’s words and found company with the many plaguing Abery.

Two nodded without missing a beat . “My second question is, have we used such a roundabout method of teaching? We began with history, and moved on to the twin approaches to cultivation. Then discussed the nature of essence. Only now have we touched the practicals, the how. Yet I distinctly recall being told the method I use will be different from the norm. You’ve yet to elaborate teacher. I fear the rains will arrive before I take my first step.” Two was cordial their intent was not.

Lord Rhevier squinted, “There is nothing for you to concern yourself with. You are progressing at an appropriate pace. We shall go over your cultivation when yo are ready to integrated your foundational essence.”

“And that will be?”

“In the future.” Two stared at rhevier and Abery worried she might do something. Do what? He didn’t know, because there weren’t much mortals like them could do to cultivators like The lord. Two smiled and Abery cringed at how bright the expression was.” Unless you have any other questions I am done for the time being.”

“Have a good evening, teacher.”

Abery opened the door for the tall man. Two turned to review her notes, her thoughts impenetrable behind the calm she always carried. As the silence pressed Abery felt the urge to say something.

“I can’t believe he’s so mean to you.”

Two glanced at him, the lamp’s steady warm light cast her in stark relief. Light speckled of her freckle of scales and cast soft shadows on her dress. Abery didn’t know much about Two, in fact, he didn’t know anything at all. She carried herself with unfaltering calm that few young misses could claim. He‘d have thought she was the scion of a minour house if it weren’t for her name.

“Abery,” she said as if she were talking to a child. Annoyance surged in his chest “Lord Rhevier is not mean at most their rude.”

“But they’re so dismissive and you worked hard, but the best they can say is passable.” he puffed and performed an imitation of the Lord. Two chuckled and he puffed only for her next words to pop his pride.”

“He is not mean Abery; he has not hurt me, not a single swear or slur has come from him. I have not been threatened, or coerced or tricked or made to fear anything but my own failure. The greatest debasement I have faced is his indifference. He is not pleasant, but he is very far from what I consider mean.”

Abery gaped and searched for something to say. It took him a long time to find it. Two waited, idly scribbling notes into her book.

“That’s sad,” it was all he could think to say but it felt inadequate to compared to the yawning feeling her words evoked.

“I agree,” they said and put down their pen to fully look at him. “But take it this way, Abery, it’s better to have a few sad truths than one painful lesson.”

“Gosh, you sound like one of my Aunts.” Abery mumbled. Then clapped a hand over his mouth but the words had escaped. Looked away and heat rushed to his cheeks and ears.

Twi huffed, “Then your aunts are very wise.”

Abery scratched the back of his head. Assailed by embarrassment and sadness he looked about the room for something to do. Unfortunately, The lord’s empty cup wasn’t a good enough excuse to flee. “I think they’d agree with you Miss Two and… thanks. It’s good advice.”

“You’re welcome.” They smiled, that spine-tingling smile, but it felt real. As real as anything he;d seen her make. “On that topic, you never talk about your mom. I hear about your father, uncles, aunts and Evadney, but never your mother. Is she…” Two trailed off with a sip of tea. She glanced away and left him room to think.

“Yeah, she’s gone. She died giving birth to me, Grandma always says I shouldn’t worry so much. That mom’d whap anything that tried to hurt me!” Abery tried to chuckle but it was nervous even to him. Two chuckled along and he didn’t feel too bad.

“What about you?” he asked. “I know your orphan because of the number, but there has to be one and maybe be more! Do you have a sister” The word had barely passed his lips when he realised it was a mistake.

They did not glare or frown, or twitch. Or any of the myriad things a person might do when a delectate topic was touched. But Abery’s heart froze. That voice was screaming now, even louder than when they’d first met, and she’d stood over him with cold eyes.

With calm that suddenly felt empty eyes, that spoke of and revealed nothing. They spoke in a voice that was light and airs and gentle. “I don’t like talking about my family Abery. Please don’t bring this up again” Abery nodded stiffly.

He didn’t whimper or run as they took The Lord’s cup and fled the room. For they felt as if they might sink their fangs into him at the slightest sound.