The contraption spun to life. Blades whirring and churning. It drank Two’s essence as she sat alone in the classroom. A clear liquid dripped into a large glass container.
Her teacher mixed her distilled essence with a black liquid he called refined isolation. Along with other things he didn’t name.
He placed a single vial of translucent grey fluid before her. She sat frozen for a moment that stretched her nerves. Her hands didn’t tremble when she grabbed it. She was proud of that
She drank and some part of her fell. Not gone simply less present. A familiar cold rose in its place.
The lessons continued, he explained why he’d given her the vial and the others she would drink until her trial. They were an inoculation. A way to fortify her against the essence and familiarize her with what the labyrinth would do.
She listened, but couldn’t muster more than passing curiosity. She was too busy trying to silence her buzzing thoughts, to listen to and enjoy the lesson.
The evening passed, and Rhevier left. Abery went about his tasks. Two scarcely noticed, instead she fell upon her carving. She let the slow symphony of cuts planned and spontaneous fill her.
She worked relentlessly, happy to have anything but a spare moment. She knew herself enough to know she couldn’t allow herself to stop.
The night came so she worked by candlelight. She dragged out every cut. Let the pursuit of perfection excuse the hours. Yet eventually, sleep pulled her from the table. Far later than reason demanded, yet far sooner than she wanted.
She walked slowly to her room. Noting idly that Abery had left. She crawled into her bed. Her head found the pillow. Her eyes drifted shut, locking her inside.
There was nowhere left to hide.
Like drops feeding into the ocean. Thought and emotion gathered. Glacially, inexorably. They built into something less than an idea, yet more than a feeling.
She was alone in the end.
The waters rose to flood. Drowning her in recollections and dreary reflection.
She remembered the orphanage as an impression in her spirit. So many kindly faces young and old. Her sisters and their sparking scales. The dull ache went it closed.
Memory spurred memory. Her sisters rose to the fore. Their faces indistinct stolen by time and worn down by a lifetime of hastily forgotten dreams. They’d left one by one.
Daisy rose, her face bright and clear. Their yellow eyes shone with warmth. They’d wanted to own her, so Two left.
Finally Igni, his soft grey eyes were something from a dream. Beautiful, enrapturing, untouchable.
They coalesced and crystallized into a Truth that struck the foundations of her soul.
She’d always be Alone in the End.
The realization stirred an irreplaceable aching want. She didn’t want to believe it. Why did it hurt to be?
She woke with tear soaked cheeks and an ache in her chest. The realization slipped into the dark recesses that birthed it. Leaving an irrepressible dread in Two. She stared wide-eyed and empty headed at the ceiling. Diffuse light oozed into the room, Casting everything into a fuzzy silhouette.
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It was morning. She blinked and pushed herself up and into the day. A rinse then then into her plain clothes, and the worn cloak that covered them. She didn’t stop for a moment, until she fled the room. ‘It’ followed her out.
She sat at the table and dove into the carving. Fighting thought with action. She spared a glance at last night’s works. All were better none were perfect, she used the dissatisfaction to push her further
She pushed them to the side. Leaving the blocks, the scared snake and Igni’s odd offering. The ache returned as she stared.
She’d have to meet him like this. The liquid was still in effect. Gently she pushed the two away. So if nothing else they could be together. The work eased her tension, and put the feeling further back. Though not enough to be forgotten.
After a time Igni arrived. Stepping into the room with near soundless grace.
Two sat straight from her hunch over carvings. She painted on a smile. “Good morning Igni.” He took one look at her. His welcoming smile withered. His brow knotted in concern.
He glided to his seat.” Are you okay Two?” his words stung and warmed her. People didn’t see through her unless she made a mistake. She hadn’t this time and yet he looked through her like glass. He cared enough to be here for her, but he wouldn’t always be.
She smiled it was a small genuine thing. “I’m,” she swallowed the lie. ”I’ll be fine.”
He shook his head and sighed with heavy exasperation. “Yesterday you came to me with broken fingers. Today you seem even more miserable. Is it worth it?”
“Yes” she spoke without need for contemplation. Things were bad now, she suspected they get worse. It would pass if only she could succeed. Then new problems and pains would rise because the ancestors had little love for Two. She’d keep going, she knew that deep in her chest
In her malaise she couldn’t call that feeling hope. More an aspiration a need.
Igni signed pulling her from her thoughts. “Okay,” he sighed lightly. “is there any way I can help.”
She blinked at him, “Aren’t you going to dissuade me or something.”
“No,” his confusion dragged the words out. “Am I supposed to,” his feathers puffed. His telltale sign of interest
“No, it’s just that typically when you see doing something unhealthy you’re supposed to intervene”
“You aren’t doing anything unhealthy though.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried not to let her bad mood infect her words with frustration. “Igni even I know that taking magic commotions and poking an ancient spirit for power is the epitome of unhealthy behaviour.” Her success was marginal “Especially when two much more powerful people say it’s a bad idea!”
She failed to ruffle his feathers. “Do you know what the potential consequences are?”
“Yes,”
“Have you accepted those risks?”
“Of course.”
“Are the potential rewards worth it?”
She took a deep breath and restrained herself to glaring.
He nodded to himself and a slight smile on his lips. “Then I don’t see the problem, you’re making a calculated risk.”
With shock, she realized what he was doing. “You’re needling me,” she was too surprised to be offended.
His smile grew but he hid before it bloomed. “Yes, But only because you seemed to need it.” Humour undercut his words. Strangely she couldn’t taste it.
Despite herself, it was true. She’d forgotten the morning’s dread “Fine, thank you,”
“You’re welcome Two.”
To think angels could be playful. She expected this from the governor, not him. Despite her internal grumbling, the morning continued and Two found the pressing thoughts lighter.
***
The evening proved sobering. More lessons and a different vial. The dread returned in force. If before the feeling that struck her was comparable to her worst days. Now they had risen to an entirely novel extreme.
She spent half an hour struggling into wakefulness. Beset by nightmares that melted like mist her eyes snapped open, and then she was beset by a manic energy.
She carved her statutes, when that proved inefficient to stifle her thoughts she reviewed and re wrote her notes. Until they were an arcane assemblage of logic and conjecture, bundled with whatever passing thought she had forced into the margins.
The morning passed. Igni proved a balm against the creeping dread that rose when she failed to occupy her mind.
Then the evening came with another potion. Desperation joined the eclectic mix swirling through her. The day passed, the next followed.
She retained the teachings. How could she not when she spent ours tossing them through her head to avoid less savoury things?
Then on the day of the eighth vial. Abery entered her room as she was struggling to dislodge her sheets. A clear vial in hand. A delivery from Rhevier.
She glared at him and he fled. Leaving the accused thing behind. She cursed them both and the world in general. Nonetheless she she drank the clear fluid in a single gulp. She refused to give her resolve the chance to fracture.
Then, as she blinked to alertness she felt ordinary.
“Shit,” She had to apologist to Abery.