Mira Fen's Arc

Chapter 2 of 6

Morning came gray and damp. Mira Fen carried a tray of soft wax blanks to the bench and set them down without a sound. The girl was already waiting by the door, sleeves pushed to her elbows. Today's work was shaping, and shaping had to be taught hand over hand. Mira looked at the small space between them and felt how wide it still was. Mira tried first the old way. She stepped behind the girl and reached for her wrists. The girl went rigid, that quiet kind of quiet, and Mira backed off a full pace. She would not teach the way she had been taught. She crossed the room and dragged a small work stand from the corner instead — a child-sized bench with its own stool, drawers, and a little awning hung with hooks. She set it three steps from her own bench and laid out wax, wire, and a folding tool on its surface. Then Mira fetched a finished lantern from the high shelf, one she had sealed years ago, all blue filigree and warm glass. She placed it on the girl's new stand and stepped back to her own bench without a word. "Look as long as you want," Mira said. "Touch every seam. I'll be over here." The girl approached slowly, turning the lantern in her hands, tracing each join with one finger. Mira shaped her own wax and did not watch directly. She listened to the small, steady breathing across the room. By afternoon the girl had folded a lump of waxed paper into something lopsided and creased, a crumpled little lantern with a candle stub glowing inside. She carried it across the floor herself and set it on Mira's bench. Mira smiled and said it was good work. The girl did not flinch. She went back to her stand on her own and reached for more paper. The distance between the benches was a bridge now, not a wall.