Emery remembered the doll among the figures of the nativity at Christmas time when they were small. He remembered reaching for it with exploring fingers while it stood sparkling and bright among the other painted figures. It was different, not painted as if it had been forgotten among the others. However the little angel with her violin poised to serenade the child in the manger almost seemed to glow with its pure whiteness.

Somewhere along the way it had been lost. The nativity still came out every year, even after their mother had passed and their father disappeared. The simple white angel was nowhere to be found. Miles remembered them playing with it the Christmas before their mother died.

Emery shook his head and sighed in something akin to wonder. “Where’d you find her?” he asked softly. He smiled over at the older mage. “I don’t even remember telling you about her.”

“Miles mentioned it. They’re old but still easy to find if you know where to look. It wasn’t sold as part of your parents crèche, you know,” Serenity said mildly.

“I figured as much. She was so different from the others; just as detailed and made from the same materials; but not painted – just white and sparkly. She still kinda glows. Thanks.” He smiled gently at the little doll in his palm and then at the older woman. “Smaller than I remembered.”

“You were smaller then,” Serenity said softly.

Emery nodded with a slight shrug. He set the little figure on the edge of his workstation and grinned. “Since she’s not part of the crèche, she can stay here. It’ll be nice to have an angel watching over me.”

“I suppose I’ll have to find another one for your brother,” Serenity teased. Emery didn’t reply. He was too busy staring at the little angel.