“That’s it. Gentle. You have to be delicate with the bridge. If you don’t carve it with precision, it will warp and the strings won’t sit right. They’ll bend. Your sound will be off.”

Delicate, glowing hands guide Cassandra’s hands. Her hands have a different kind of glow. It’s warm, brighter, more beautiful. There is an edge, however, to her fingernails, like sharp knives, and she is cutting delicately into a wooden substance. She is so careful. It needs to be perfect. If she does it right, they’ll be pleased. And she wanted to please.

Cassandra wakes with a start, her breath caught in her throat. It was one of those nights. The ones that gave her a buzz like she’s walking on air. Snippets of relaxed moments set her on edge and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to truly be scared. Perhaps that was worse.

She turns on her side to grab her cellphone off of the nightstand next to her. 6pm. She had rehearsal in an hour. Sighing, she gets up to get ready. She pulls her hair into a long braid over her shoulder, the tip of her braid sitting nearly at her hip now. She knew she needed to get it cut soon, but… this has been nearly 7 full years of hair growth. Few snips in between.

The last time her hair saw a real cut was when it was trimmed by the Hedge thorns during her escape. Triss had fixed it to an even length when she had gotten settled. It had sat just above her shoulders back then and she had been horrified. Running her fingers through her hair, expecting it to keep winding down to the floor, only to find it run out at the nape of her neck, had been a reminder of the change. It was a badge of honor. Not one that she wanted, but it was what it was.

Now, of course, it has grown out substantially. It was a comfort to her - a way to hide. Short hair was an exposure in a way she’d never want.

She dresses herself in a calf-length, flowy dress. The long, bell-like sleeves are delicate and thin, much like the rest of the dress. Perhaps a bit Summery for the Winter, but it allowed her to move better with her instrument. For good measure, she slips on a little sweater to shed when she gets there. Just for the idea that she may be cold. Then again, Sacramento was warm in the Winter comparative to what she’s used to. Baltimore saw snow and truly freezing temperatures.

Grabbing her cello case along the way, she heads out to practice. She arrives 15 minutes earlier and spends some time working on one of the more difficult sections in one of their pieces. In truth, it wasn’t difficult so much as she hadn’t practiced. As she is practicing, she is approached by one of the violists, Lisa. An incredible musician, just the wrong instrument. Not that a violist wasn’t incredibly important, but violinists were the ones who got the big bucks. Sadly. Cellists not far behind.

“Hey, Cassandra.” the thin, soft spoken woman greets her. Her mousy brown hair is done up in a messy bun, her thick rimmed glasses covering much of her face. She always wore sensible clothing. Nothing revealing or grand. Even her concert gowns were incredibly demure. She might have been one of the plainest persons she knew. Not that that was a bad thing.

Cassandra finds a place to pause and looks over, “Lisa.” And we smile. The Fairest gives her a faint smile, “do you need something?”

Normally, Cassandra was left to her own devices. Not that she didn’t have… acquaintances that she occasionally would go along with to a small gather. When she thinks about it, aside from other Changelings, she doesn’t keep mundane friends at all. Why would she need to? ...was that bad?

Lisa returns the smile, “Actually, I was wondering if you might give me the name of the maker of your instrument? You always play beautifully, but your sound is different. Warmer. It’s been enchanting to listen to.”

This wasn’t the first time someone had asked. She was about to give some vague answer, but instead what came out was, “I made it, actually.”

It wasn’t the response Lisa was expecting to hear. The normally very composed woman’s mouth dropped, open with an expression of surprise. She had to ask Cassandra to repeat. “I didn’t realize you crafted instruments. And to create an instrument so refined… Do you work with a dealer?”

Cassandra shook her head, “It’s just something I…” don’t say ‘picked up recently.’ That would be ridiculous, even though it’s mostly true. “have been learning how to do for a long time. I’ve never created one to this level before.” She watches Lisa and she realizes that she has just opened herself up to something she doesn’t know if she is ready for. Possible commissions.

“Do you- do you make other instruments besides the cello? I know that that can be quite a specialty on its own.”

“I… yes.” Maybe it would be good for me. Doing something like that could open up some worlds for me I don’t have. Financially it would be good too… “Are you looking to have one commissioned?”

Perhaps the question made the air a bit awkward, but Lisa did answer, “Possibly. We’d have to talk about details and price and all.” to which Cassandra nods. That was just a fact. And professional end instruments were incredibly expensive. Ten grand and onwards.

“Certainly.” Cassandra pauses, “You have my number and we can work out the details if you are still interested later.” to which Lisa nods.

That was a weird feeling. Using her Artist blessings to start a new path in her life. Maybe that was a good thing. Perhaps crafting would soon bring her to a point of contentment. Forging her own way. Maybe this was the way to finally start over. Still perform, but focus on making and giving back. Ideas of things she could do began flooding her head. Of course, then the idea of too many commissions gave her anxiety. She’d have to control that somehow. But… that was a discussion for later. One thing at a time.

--

She’d worked out the details. She’d gotten what she needed. Everything was ready to go, but she was anxious about it. This has to be perfect. Making for yourself was one thing, but crafting for another? She had time though. No one expects an instrument in a day. Or a week for that matter. The problem was, if she worked hard enough, it could be in just a few days. Blessings of the wyrd.

Okay. Let’s get to work. Start with the Neck.

The neck and the body weren’t too far apart in length, and not really more difficult to make than the other, but the neck was a bit thinner. This was the first part she focused on. The neck is where Lisa’s fingers would lay, using the face to press the strings into just the right place, making the correct pitch.

She focused so deeply on perfection, that she nicked part of the wood while she had been shaving it down. It wasn’t a disaster. It wasn’t the end of the world. However, the perfectionist Artist had to spend an undisclosed amount of time crying in a bathroom, but we won’t talk about that.

Soon, she got into a rhythm. This was calming, cathartic almost as it started to come together. Crafting was hers. It was something she was meant to do. She had more terrifying memories of playing than she did working on any little thing.

Viola Neck 4 successes


Cassandra comes back the next day to get to work. She always did have more free time than she’d like. She had some energy now. And now it has a good purpose.

You would think the Bridge would be more stressful. It is the tiniest part of the instrument, but for some reason, having something to work so slowly made her feel more present. She hadn’t felt too present lately. Her mind has been a daze in an emotional frenzy for months. She felt a disconnect with her season over it, preventing her from strengthening further. Hide your love and hate. What even was that anymore?

Think about it later. Get back to work.

And so she does. She works diligently and within a few hours, she has Lisa’s bridge. Biggest thing left was the body and everything else was little bits.

Viola Bridge 8 successes


Perhaps the easiest part to make and yet the most important. The body. The depth had to be just right or the sound wouldn’t resonate in the way it needs to. For this part, she worked silently, being careful as she worked with every inch of the wood. Delicately sanding it and notching it in the right spots.

The job went along a lot quicker than she expected it would and before she knew it, it was done. Everything was put together and… she had a viola. And it was beautiful.

Viola Body