A sliver of wood fell from the whole. With a twist of her wrist and another piece fell away. Two continued her motions with absent attention.

The repetition eased her mind. Lightened the pressure of stress. So her thoughts had room to wander. Her notes settled in her drifting mind. Sorted and ready for the evening’s lesson, and the morning’s meeting. Her guest would arrive soon.

Her finger slipped, drawing a thin jagged line. With a sigh, she put it amongst the other serpents. A mess of misshapen scales, and slit eyes met her. From the atrocious to mediocre, they represented hours of work from last night and today. Each better than the last as her fingers remembered skills rusted by disuse.

Her latest attempt. A fierce snake its jaws opened wide, fangs bared. Had been decent before she ruined it. She sighed and retrieved another block from the pile Abery had provided. She’d asked for one, but he’d brought several dozen.

His foresight annoyed her almost as much as her failings to make something worth the house she lived in. Nonetheless, he did his job excellently. She wondered how much the governor paid him. Her knife froze moments from a cut. Was the governor paying him, or was Two?

Her eyes widened in horror, she needed to check her finances. A knock interrupted her spiralling thoughts. “Ma’am, Igni is here to see you.”

“Please invite him in.”She answered absently. Her eyes roamed the misshapen statuettes. She blinked. Her gaze darted over the room.

It was barren. A few extra chairs surrounded the central table Two sat at. Her work and collection of blocks were the only things on it. A desk in one corner and a large circular couch in the other. Were the extent of the furniture. Three walls of the four walls were made of glass panes framed by wood. The fourth was of paper and separated the room from the rest of the second floor. There were no hiding places. Muttering a curse in her heart, she shuffled her statues around.

The door opened to Two sitting primly, in her usual cloak. The statues arrayed in the table’s corner. Away from the door. Her greatest failures, hidden behind the more acceptable works.

Igni crouched into the room. The door’s tall frame was insufficient. Indoors his height was even more striking. The needlessly high ceiling seemed small. His wings filled the space. He had the presence of a giant. Yet he tread softly on the planks. Gliding in a way none his size should. “Thank you,” he said smiling at Abery. Like the breaking of a spell, she remembered herself.

“Thank you Abery, Could you please prepare tea?”

“Right away Ma’am.” He said softly. His eyes linger on Igni’s golden brown feathers. Then the door shut and they. were alone.

“Please sit,” she gestured to a large low backed chair. Specially arranged after Rhevier made her desk look like a children’s toy.

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He did, his wings carpeted the floor like a field of gold and warm browns. She looked away before, her eyes and thoughts could betray her further. She was reduced to be one of those idiots who gaped and stared as he walked past. She focused on his face. He was looking at the statues.

Her heart clenched. She took great pain to keep her expression neutral.“Are those statues for the house?”

“No, They’re for practice,”

His feathers ruffled, and leaned forward. Looking straight at her many mistakes. “Could I hold one,”

With hidden dread, she nodded.

He plucked the most recently abandoned piece. He caressed the scales, complete and half finished with equal interest. His finger ran along the mistake. The cut ran up the snake’s mouth body, cutting through several scales before vanishing. “It looks nice, Why don’t you use this.”

“I made a mistake,” she said drily, eyes fixed on the glaring imperfection.

He hummed at the rearing serpent. “You could turn it into a scar.”

“I wasn’t planning for a scar. “

“True,” he replaced the statue in her hands. “But why waste a good mistake.”

She stared at the small thing. A tiny testament to failure. Appreciated all the same. “I suppose so,” she placed it to her side.

“Any other pearls of angelic wisdom before I tell you about yesterday’s trials.” She oozed sarcasm.

He chuckled. “No, well maybe,” he pulled something from his deep blue robe. In his hand rested a small statuette. A series of concentric circles, each a touch off center from the last. Surrounding a central eye.

She picked up the offering. It was carved from wood but was bereft of knife marks. Each ring was wider than tall. Cleanly merging where they touched. As if clay had decided to hold a grain. The outermost anchored it to a circular base. The centermost most merged into the ovoid eye.

“You made this,” incredulity coloured her voice. “As an ancestral offering.”

“Yes though I suspect I cheated.” He said shyly.

“How,”

He took one of the unused blocks. Held it in his palm. Then brushed his thumb through its corner. Matter dissolved into mist, Leaving a clean surface.

Her heart skipped a beat, “Can you do that to living things?”

“Yes,” but he shook his head. “Though it’s not an effective attack if that’s what your wondering.” He admitted in the same tone as he said everything else. Calm and pleasant.

“What does effective mean to you,” she said slowly.

He shifted the cube. Mist cloaked its missing. It parted and the block was whole. “There are complications if I try to affect near peers.” He places the block back.

In short, nothing stopped him from dissolving the vast majority of people. She slowly put the statue down with the scarred snake.

Part of her knew this was similar to Leandra’s ability. Evisceration from a glare. The rest of her was too muddled to care.

There was something horrible about disappearing. Whether smashed to pulp, cut into a million pieces. Or compelled to die by another’s bidding. There remained a visceral weight behind the act. No matter how meek the life.

But to disappear? As if you were never there. As if her pains, her choices, good and bad. Her scars never existed. It woke a deep Terror in Two. It lashed at her thoughts.

It met jarred incomprehension. Igni was kind. A warm rain in a world of thunderstorms. She couldn’t manage him saying an unkind word, let alone be the harbinger of her newly found nightmares. Mortal was the closest thing to a derisive he’d said and it was used like a technical term.

Angels, beautiful, and terrifying indeed.

Abery entered the room, a platter of tea and small crackers in hand.

She took the time to settle. Mechanically she took a cup and thanked him. “Igni,”

“Yes,” he eyed his cup curiously.

“I think it’s time for those deeper discussions.”