Monday was another cloudy day, but this time Melina was up and about early. If she was to be Lushilleth, and they were going to act the first scene today, she needed as much time as possible to practice her lines. After the Meeting yesterday, Melina had gone home and immersed herself in the script, only leaving to eat supper and head to bed.
Now, Melina paced back and forth, mentally reviewing her lines. But nervousness kept getting in the way, and Melina had a hard time getting into the part. I’m the lead actor, she thought, I can’t mess this up. Not even a little bit, or I’ll probably lose my job after being late on Friday. What will I do? Misham, help me!
At last, it was time to go, or at least, time to go early so that there was no possibility of being late. Melina slipped into her dark clothes to wear underneath the costumes, took a last gulp of water, and prepared to go.
A silver arrow whizzed through the window and buried itself deep in the wall. Wait! Take your bow and arrows! it read. “Oh!” Melina gasped. So… I’ll take my own bow and arrows as ‘props’, she thought. “Ok...”
Quickly, she darted to her bedroom where her silver bow and dark blue, silky soft quiver leaned against the wall. After slipping the bow and quiver over her shoulders, she closed her eyes and teleported out.
“Melina! Early, I see,” Cristor exclaimed as she walked in the door. “Good.” Cristor hurried towards Melina, then paused when he saw the silver bow she was carrying. “Ah. Are you going to use those as your props?” he asked somewhat nervously. The arrows glinted sharply.
“Yes,” Melina answered shortly. “I’m not going to use any others.”
“Okay,” Cristor said doubtfully. He seemed intimidated by Melina’s finality and was less bossy than usual. She already carried the cold, confident air of an elven princess as she strode to the costume room.
The costume was amazingly realistic, Melina discovered. Actually, the clothing was so completely other that Melina couldn’t help wondering if Misham had replaced the previous costume with His own design.
There was a flowing tunic in misty green that shimmered faintly as if lit from within when she looked at it out of the corner of her eye. It was tough and durable, but it was amazingly soft to the touch. There was faint golden embroidery in elf-like runes around the edges.
The tunic had sleeves up to the shoulder, but an ethereal white shirt that Melina wore underneath the tunic extended past it to the wrist. The shirt was white, but it seemed to melt into its surroundings as if it wasn’t there, no matter what was around it.
There was a pair of loose pants made of the same material as the tunic, but even softer and lighter. They seemed to be white, but Melina wasn’t quite sure. They were white one moment, then they seemed iridescent purple, then they seemed to be the color of mist, and then they were white again.
Under these was a pair of boots, such boots as Melina had never seen and always wished for. They were tight, but not so much that they were hard to put on. Yet they were tight enough that they molded around Melina’s feet. They were made of thin, supple leather-like material and had silver-blue threads lacing all around, extending almost to her knees. They were comfortable, but she could feel the floor under her feet.
To top it off, Melina added streaks of silver to her dark blue-and-black hair, styled it so that a few strands hung over her shoulders and the rest flowed down just past her shoulders, and put points on her ears. The points were perhaps the least awesome part of the whole outfit.
The whole costume was so comfortable that Melina couldn’t resist slipping out of her usual black underclothes and wearing the costume straight. The cloth (if that was what it was) glided over her skin like water, flowing in a nonexistent breeze.
Finally ready, Melina slung on her quiver and bow and strode out again. Torine, who was just walking through the sliding doors, stopped short with a gasp, staring. “Melina?” she asked.
Melina turned around. “Hi,” she greeted amiably despite her nervousness.
“Wow, it really is you,” Torine breathed, “You look absolutely amazing. Those clothes were meant for you. I mean, just... wow. Congratulations on getting your first lead!” she bubbled.
Melina smiled nervously. “Thanks,” she answered.
Torine giggled. “Now that I’ve seen your costume, I can’t wait to try mine on! Does it feel as great as it looks?”
Melina held out an arm. “Feel it.”
Torine gasped. “I didn’t realize there were sleeves on that! Oh, but it’s so obvious now. How did they make this fabric? Oooh, it feels heavenly!”
“‘Heavenly’ is certainly the right word for it,” Melina agreed with a knowing smirk, “Now go on and try your costume on. I’ll meet you on set.” Melina was almost certain this was not the original costume.
“Ok,” Torine replied eagerly, “See you on set!” she called as she flitted into the dressing room. Belatedly, Melina realized she had forgotten to ask what part Torine was playing. Oh, well. I’ll see in a moment, Melina thought as she headed onto the set.
Melina was hit by a cool blast of air when she walked into the set and had to blink a few times before adjusting. There was a forest of suspiciously real-looking trees stretching out in front of her, complete with sparse underbrush and thick, low-hanging mist.
“Melina! That wasn’t the costume that you were supposed to wear!” Cristor shouted.
“It was the one laid out in the dressing rooms,” Melina called back. So apparently Misham had hijacked her costume, and apparently the entire movie set as well. I wonder what He’s up to… Melina thought. Well, it would make acting a treat. They wouldn’t have to smell chemically-induced mist all the time, but fresh real mist instead. Thank You, Misham. But that did beg the question of why Misham was going to all this trouble…
Cristor seemed a bit confused, but settled for a shrug. “Well, it looks better, so I guess you can keep it on. It seems like everything is different than we planned, but for the better.”
Torine hustled in a moment later, bright-eyed. “How do you like this?” she asked, twirling in an understated but very realistic servant’s attire of coarse woven brown-gray fabric.
Melina nodded in approval and opened her mouth to comment, but just then the rest of the actors came in one big group, ushered in by Cristor. There were more than a few exclamations at the reality of the set and the costumes, but Cristor quickly called them to attention.
“OK, EVERYONE!” he boomed. Everyone fell silent and looked at him. “So, you know we have dropped the Siel movie and we’re taking on a completely new one, Forest of the Forgotten, right?” Nods and murmurs of assent, though some looked more surprised than others.
“I gave you all your portions of the script on Saturday. Today, we are going to act out the first scene on camera. Yes, I know it’s really abrupt,” he added in answer to the shocked gasps, “But our patrons want this as fast as possible. Melina is going to play the lead role of Lushilleth, but Torin will be played by someone new.”
Melina glanced up in surprise. What? Who? And so soon? she thought wildly. I hope it’s someone I can work with well, or this movie will be twice as hard.
“Usually I would not let someone untried take a lead role in a movie, but he has been recommended to me by someone whom I very highly regard, so I am willing to give it a try. Friends, please welcome our lead Torin!” Cristor called, stepping to the side to let a boy with hair black as darkness step through the door.
Melina’s jaw literally dropped open. It was Nieth. NIETH! Of all the-
Nieth glanced Melina’s way and visibly started, looking away quickly, but otherwise gave no sign of recognition. Melina realized her mouth was still open and snapped it shut just as Torine bumped her arm and whispered gleefully, “You guys know each other?!”
Melina’s face grew red. “We met a few days ago. He was the friend I was talking to on Friday when I was late.” Melina regretted saying that an instant later. Now Torine was going to go absolutely crazy about the two of them. What have I gotten myself into? Misham, is this what you were planning to do? Melina groaned inwardly.
Cristor was leading Nieth around, briefly introducing everyone before getting on with the job. When he came to Melina, Nieth briefly cut off his introduction by interrupting with a short, “We’ve met.”
“Okay,” Cristor replied, backing off. Clearly he was a bit scared of Nieth, and with good reason. Melina hoped Nieth wasn’t going to blame her for their latest meeting and subsequently make good on his death threat. Somehow, though, she didn’t think so.
Melina’s tense mind wandered back to the part she was about to play, and she realized that soon, her and Nieth’s positions would be reversed. She smiled just slightly at the thought, but instantly felt guilty. Revenge was not something to look for.
There was a sudden warmth in her quiver, and the loudest tinkling Melina had ever heard sounded nearby. Furtively, Melina glanced around and slowly drew out a blue - not silver - arrow and furrowed her brow. Where was the attached message? Then the blue arrow heated up and started sending almost painful vibrating tingles through Melina’s arms. Before Melina could react, the arrow split in half and melted into her hands, leaving no trace of its existence.
Melina felt a hot glare, and she looked up to see Nieth staring hard at her. She jumped just a little and looked away. So Nieth had seen that too… Misham, what is this about? Melina pleaded silently. What are You trying to do here? No answer. Melina resisted the urge to chew her tongue in worry. Nieth began to stalk towards her threateningly, but thankfully was interrupted by Cristor’s call to action.
Melina slipped out of the way of the numerous cameras and boom mics arranged strategically through the set and silently made her way to her designated spot. From here, she would lure Nieth - Torin, now - away from his camp more or less on purpose.
One poor guy preparing the set nearly jumped out of his skin when Melina seemed to appear out of nowhere beside him. Melina gave him a look and put her finger to her lips, motioning to the area where the beginning scene was already in play. The guy’s eyes grew wide, and he scurried off the set. Melina smiled and leaned against a tree to wait.
She was momentarily distracted by the otherworldly not-quite-pine scent with a dash of some spice she couldn’t name thrown in that was emanating from the tree, but quickly reprimanded herself and mentally prepared to become Lushilleth.
Melina squinted through the misty trees. She thought she saw blurry figures, but the mist made it hard to tell. Should I go? she wondered apprehensively. It wouldn’t ruin things, but it would make it more awkward if she messed up the timing. Something in her tingled, (an echo of that blue arrow, maybe?) and Melina was moving almost before she knew she had decided to go.
She flitted through the trees, gradually working her way closer to the huddled group. Close enough to be seen, but not enough to be easily followed. With an inward smile, Melina realized the silver light around her wasn’t a moving spotlight, it was emanating from her clothing. One hundred percent Misham, she thought, No doubt about it.
She felt that urging again, and Melina turned to the side and quickened her pace, striding through the trees both effortlessly and noiselessly. Risking a quick glance behind, she saw Nieth - no, Torin, she corrected herself - following behind her. He was doing a good job of stumbling along a distance behind, but slowly gaining.
Melina changed courses again, darting to the side around a tall evergreen tree, temporarily losing Nieth in the mist. Just as Melina thought Nieth had lost her for good, he reappeared again, much closer.
Melina turned to the right once more and broke out of the woods onto a steep pebbly slope under an overcast sky. Wait, sky?!? She loped up, trying to keep her balance while maintaining the illusion of speed and precision. Bits of gravel fell down behind her, rustling and bouncing down the barren slope.
Melina was beginning to feel exhilarated, the mist sharpening her senses. She cleared the slope and sped away, only sparing the barest glance to check Nie- Torin - was still behind her. He was, scrambling up the slope with much less grace but just as much determination. This scene was turning out perfectly.
Melina wove through the trees a moment longer, then stopped in an open clearing. The silver glow from her clothes was muted now, in keeping with her surroundings. She quickly caught her breath (as Lushilleth would not have been out of breath in the first place) and unslung her bow, nocking a silver arrow and half-drawing it but aiming at the ground. Ready, she faced the forest where Nieth would come from.
Nieth - Torin - came bursting out of the forest, stumbling to a quick halt with wide eyes as Melina - Lushilleth - pointed her bow at him. Panting, he took a step back, his eyes riveted on her.
“Why have you followed me, son of the fallen?” Lushilleth’s voice rang out in the nearly silent forest, clear, calm, and cold.
Torin seemed unsure what to make of this greeting. “I-I saw a light in the forest, and I have always wanted to see the elves, so I had to follow!”
Lushilleth lowered her bow just slightly so that it pointed just below Torin’s chest, her face still stern and cold. “Leave this forest.”
Torin’s face crumpled. “But I have only just seen you! Can I not see the fabled home of the elves?”
Lushilleth laughed. “You do not know what you ask,” she answered, her expression hardening. “No man has seen Erinvale, and none ever will.”
“Why not?!” Torin cried.
Lushilleth - Melina - felt the reply pouring out of her mouth, though it was different than the script. “Because they are defiled and broke the trust between the realms. When they drove the elves into this forest, drowning many and slaying even more, so that only a remnant remained in Erinvale, they severed any possibility of redemption, to walk in our lands again. Leave this forest, and turn back to the way you came, and you and your company will escape with your lives.”
Torin - Nieth - staggered backward. Melina’s words - and their hidden meaning - had struck deep. There was no need to act now. “Can I not come?” he asked, “I had no part in the slaying of the elves.”
Lushilleth’s eyes were cold, but Melina’s heart rejoiced. “No,” she answered, “Not until you redeem yourself, and that is impossible.”
“But-”
“Do you hear me?” Lushilleth shouted, advancing until Torin - Nieth - was backed up against a tree and her arrow nearly touched his chest. “You cannot save yourself! The least of the arrows from my bow would slay you where you stand! Do not test my patience, son of the fallen!”
Nieth’s eyes were wide with terror - real terror, not faked - as he looked up at Melina, her bow drawn and aimed at his heart.
“You will leave, or you will die,” she said more quietly. “Do not follow me, son of the fallen.” With that, Lushilleth - Melina - whirled back towards the forest, her bow slung over her shoulder in the same smooth movement.
“Wait!” Nieth - Torin - cried, stepping away from the tree to follow. Melina, midstep, launched herself off the ground, whipped back around while still moving backwards, unslung her bow, and shot an arrow so fast that she had barely any time to aim. As she landed, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the forest.
The arrow thunked into the tree, pinning Nieth by a single lock of hair. It was so close to his head that a finger’s width was too wide for the gap. Nieth panted. Slowly, without moving his head, he pried the arrow from the tree and turned it over in his hands. “She could have killed me,” he breathed shakily. Eventually, he looked up, and Torin realized he was lost in the shifting forest.
“And...CUT! That was terrific, Melina and Nieth! It looked like you two were at it for real! Superb acting! Even though that did not follow the script at all, that was amazing!” Cristor gushed.
Melina, still a bit shaken, couldn’t help but smile wryly at herself. “That’s because it was real, Cristor,” she murmured under her breath. It had been like someone else had been there, telling her what to say. Misham was astounding. To act in such a way it both spoke to Nieth and fit with the movie? Melina could only shake her head.
And it seemed Nieth really was shaken. As Cristor raved on to the other actors about following Melina and Nieth’s example, Melina watched Nieth. He was still breathing hard from terror, genuinely disturbed. Even when he noticed her discreet stare, Nieth could not summon his usual scowl. He only looked away, folding his arms uncomfortably.
Wow. Just, wow, Misham, Melina thought. I wonder if the rest of the movie will be so realistic now… She jumped back to the present when Cristor shooed everyone off set for the next scene: Torin lost in the forest.
The day passed rapidly, and Forest of the Forgotten leaped forward. Melina and Nieth kept at their realistic vein of acting (though not quite as much as before), so often they only had to do a few takes of the scene before it was complete. This was the most productive day Melina had ever had, and Cristor was practically glowing.
Finally, it was time to head home. Melina sadly changed out of the amazingly soft elf costume and back into her real clothes. By comparison, her shirt and trousers were rough and coarse. Melina idly wondered if Cristor would let her keep the costume after the movie was over, but it was highly unlikely, especially since there was a high chance that the costume would simply disappear. Melina inwardly sighed and decided that Heaven would be that much more awesome if all the clothes were that comfortable.
As she exited the changing room, Melina saw Nieth heading out the glass doors. He seemed like he was in a hurry to leave, but reluctant to get where he was going. An arrow whizzed out of nowhere and landed at Melina’s feet. Quickly, she read it: Walk Nieth home.
Melina groaned. “Now Torine is going to talk,” she muttered. “Ugh.” But she trotted to catch up with Nieth and reached him just beside the doors. “Nieth! Can I walk you home?” she asked.
Nieth attempted a glare. “I don’t have a home.”
“Fine, back to your camp, then,” Melina answered. Nieth just muttered and continued walking, staring at the pavement. Melina took this as a yes and kept walking.
Suddenly Nieth whipped his head up to stare at her, his eyes troubled. “Is there really no hope?” he asked earnestly.
Melina blinked, taking a moment to connect the dots. This is really happening?! “There is hope,” she answered, “The blood of Misham’s Son covers our transgressions.”
Nieth looked away again, suddenly bitter. “There’s no hope for me,” he spat, “Unlike Torin, I did take part in the killing.”
“You can still turn back,” Melina answered.
“Turn back?! There’s no turning back for me!” Nieth stopped short and jerked around, his voice both bitter and hopeless. “Do you see this?! I’m hopeless!” He brandished his left palm at her. There was a raw black slash gouged through his hand. “That’s the initiation mark, if you didn’t know. There’s no turning back for me,” he repeated angrily.
Melina could practically see the small boy freezing outside the tavern in Nieth’s face. He looked...abandoned. But what could she say? The initiation mark was supposed to be permanent and irreversible. Her face must’ve shown it, because Nieth grimaced and turned away.
“His blood covers a multitude of sins,” Melina whispered.
“What?” Nieth turned around. This was beginning to sound familiar.
“The blood of the Son covers a multitude of sins, washing it all, even the initiation mark on your hand.” Melina held her hand up to stop him before he could interrupt. “Yes, I know the stab through your hand can’t just be washed off normally, but that’s not the point. The point is that it is forgiven. Will you accept Misham’s sacrifice, when He - His Son - died for You?”
Nieth stared at Melina for a long moment, then looked away. “I don’t deserve it,” he muttered.
“Neither did I,” Melina answered. “Now don’t give me that hard look, I’ve done things just as bad as you have.”
“Have you killed?” Nieth shot back.
“In my heart,” Melina admitted.
“That’s not the same.”
“To Misham, it is.”
“Then why doesn’t He kill us all?”
Melina paused, searching for the right answer. “Then His sacrifice would be for nothing.”
That stopped Nieth. He turned his head away and continued walking in silence.
“Will you accept His death and resurrection to forgive your sins?” Melina asked quietly.
Nieth looked away. “I’ll...think about it. I’m not ready.”
Melina pulled an arrow out of her pocket and read it. She looked up sharply. “You won’t have long,” she told him tersely as they entered the forest. “Maelmorth is here.”
Nieth stared at her, eyes haunted. “I don’t want to.”
Melina had no time to ask him what he meant, because they entered the clearing. Just as Misham had warned her, the beady black-eyed man stood there - Maelmorth. This was going to be...interesting.
Maelmorth glowered at Melina. “He’s ours. Don’t you go trying to take our converts away!”
Nieth looked sharply at Melina. “You two have a history?!” he muttered.
Melina ignored Maelmorth’s half-threat, for now. “Yes. We faced off once before.” She shifted her attention to Maelmorth, or rather, the darkness looming behind him like evil puppeteers. “I gave you mercy last time. I’m warning you, I won’t do the same this time,” she said, drawing her bow.
“Pah! What do we care?” Maelmorth laughed scornfully. “You are not a warrior or a Protector, but a sorry excuse for a Messenger! Join us and live, Nieth,” he added with an oily smile. The scent of death wafted across the clearing from his direction.
Melina brought her bow up and turned her head to look at Nieth. “I’ve told you the truth, and now you must choose. Who will you serve, the darkness or the light? Will you serve Maelstrom or Misham?”
“You are not permitted to speak the true name of our master!” Maelmorth objected.
Melina glared right back at him. “I have no fear of your master, and will say his name - Maelstrom - when I wish. Misham is more powerful. Now choose, Nieth,” Melina called, her voice loud and clear, rising above Maelmorth’s protests. Inwardly, she prayed furiously, hoping Nieth would make the right choice.
“I...” Nieth began, glancing between the two adversaries.
“You are ours, Nieth! You belong to us! The mark on your hand condemns you!” Maelmorth howled spitefully.
“Misham will set you free. The mark has no hold on you with Him,” Melina countered. Then both sides fell silent, waiting for Nieth’s response.
When Nieth said nothing, Maelmorth sneered, his face hideous. “You’ll lose your job, runt. We’ll take your life!”
Nieth looked at Melina, waiting for her reassurance, but received none. “The choice is yours, Nieth, I will say no more.”
Nieth hesitated, first stepping one way, then the other. Either direction was met with either howls of derision or cackles of delight from Maelmorth, but Melina remained silent. Impassive. The choice was his.
“I...” Nieth began again, but hesitated. He seemed to waver endlessly on the verge of decision - a decision with eternal consequences. Do it, Nieth, Melina wanted to scream, but kept her mouth firmly shut.
Maelmorth began to fidget, then to pace. He started yelling threats and curses, and at last Nieth couldn’t take the barrage anymore. “STOP IT!” he screamed, “I HATE YOU!”
Maelmorth only gloated. “See, you hate us. You can’t be saved by Misham. Not with all the hate inside you.” Melina bristled silently at the outright lie.
Nieth suddenly whirled and sprinted to Melina’s side. The choice was made. He turned to stare at Maelmorth, his eyes wide and voice shaky, but resolve firm. “I’ve made my decision,” he told the man, “I’m going to follow Misham. There’s no proving myself endlessly, no broken promises, and,” he glanced at Melina, “There’s room for mistakes. There’s room for failure. There’s even room for enemies. You never offered me the thing I most longed for: acceptance.
”When she lost patience with me and attacked me, she left but didn’t die,” Nieth said, pointing at Melina. “And she changed. I saw it. There’s something different in her eyes. She doesn’t detest me because I hate her and even threatened to kill her!! What do you say to that?!”
Melina swallowed, tears in her eyes. Timothy was right. It was because she had failed that Nieth saw the change, and that...inspired him to change as well. She blinked hard.
“You cannot be safe! You are ours!” Maelmorth screeched, throwing himself towards Nieth, the shadows writhing behind him.
Melina let out a shout and let her arrow fly. It aimed true and sunk deep into the darkness behind Maelmorth. The darkness let out a screech and fled. The man that once was collapsed to the ground, a puppet with the strings cut. Nieth cowered behind Melina.
Melina walked over and bent down to look at the man. His eyes were closed. “There’s hope for you, too,” she whispered, and left a single blue-feathered arrow by his side. Straightening, she turned and headed back to Nieth.
“The darkness is gone for now, but it will be back soon, with reinforcements. We need to leave,” she told Nieth.
Nieth’s eyes were wide at what he had just witnessed. “What did you do to Maelmorth?” he asked.
“I shot the darkness controlling him. Come on, we don’t have much time,” Melina answered impatiently.
Nieth refused to move. “How can I be sure you won’t do that to me?” he asked.
Melina sighed. Apparently the one thing that could scare Nieth more than Maelmorth was herself, or Misham’s work through her. “I won’t. I didn’t shoot you before, remember? Now we really have to go!”
But it was too late. The darkness had already returned. With a screaming howl it sped towards them, swirling on the wind.
“What’s happening?!” Nieth screamed, only able to see the wild wind around them. Melina ignored his cry, hastily slung her bow over her shoulder, and grabbed his arm, teleporting to the only place she could think of.
They reappeared in Melina’s kitchen. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the window. Her hair, still in Lushilleth’s hairstyle, fluttered in the wind. Everything was calm and still.
Nieth was overwhelmed by the rapid turn of events. He sunk to the floor and put his head in his hands. Melina, taking the suggestion of a quiet silver arrow, left the room and started to cook supper (something she rarely did as Misham usually provided for her).
When she reentered with a steamed dish of quiche in her mittened hands, Nieth looked up. “Was that how you always managed to disappear?” he asked faintly.
Melina nodded. It was time for some explanations. “It was Misham’s gift to me when I became a Messenger, so I could travel fast enough to give messages.”
“You weren’t born a Messenger?” Nieth asked in surprise.
Melina raised her eyebrows. “Of course not. A mailman isn’t born a mailman. Misham offered me the job, and I took it.”
“Are there others?” Nieth asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Other jobs. I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” Nieth murmured sadly, putting his head in his hands again.
“Oh, yes, there are,” Melina answered, “Plenty of them. I think there’s as many jobs as there are people in the kingdom.”
“The kingdom?” Nieth furrowed his brow. “What kingdom?”
“Misham’s kingdom, the one you have just entered. One day soon, He will come back and establish it for everyone. Then the darkness will be destroyed once and for all, though it was already vanquished.”
“Is there a job I can do?” Nieth asked, looking up. “How could I get one?”
“Don’t ask me, ask Misham,” Melina replied. “I’m sure He’ll talk to you soon. In the meantime, let’s eat.”
Nieth stayed quiet just long enough for Melina to set the table and pray before launching into another round of questioning.
“That arrow that landed in front of you the day I threatened you with my knife,” Nieth flinched at the memory, but pushed on, “It was silver, like the ones you had in the set and used to shoot the...whatever it was. What was that about? Why weren’t you surprised?”
“That’s how Misham talks to me, though He talks to others in different ways. All my arrows are silver. And by the way, I brought my real bow and arrows to the set. I wasn’t surprised because I get His messages all the time.”
“Will I?”
“Probably.”
Nieth seemed to be out of questions, and he ate his quiche in silence. Melina was content to enjoy her own cooking and praise Misham in her heart. Nieth is saved! I would never have believed it! Melina finished her bowl and pushed it to the side. When it vanished, she blinked in surprise. Nieth sputtered and choked on his mouthful of egg.
When he could speak again, he gasped, “What just happened to your bowl?!”
Melina shrugged. “I suppose Misham has something better for me to do than wash the dishes.”
“What about next time?” Nieth demanded. “How are you going to get another bowl?”
Melina shrugged. “Misham provides. It’ll appear when I need it later.”
Nieth just stared at the spot where her bowl had been, clutching his protectively. “This life has more surprises than I bargained for,” he muttered.
Melina stifled a laugh. “Misham isn’t categorizable, and neither are His ways. He doesn’t fit in a box.” As Nieth took his last bite of quiche, a silver arrow flew through the window and landed on the table. Nieth stared at it warily. Melina smiled and reached out to unroll the message. Reading it, she passed it to Nieth.
Nieth read it over and over, unable to believe what he was seeing. Finally, he looked up, oblivious to the fact that his bowl and spoon had disappeared too. “Is it...for real?” he asked.
Melina nodded. “Come on, I’ll take you to it.” She held out her arm. “We’ll have to teleport. It’s only a floor or two down, but my apartment has no door. I don’t need it,” she added, enjoying Nieth’s shocked look. Hesitantly, he grabbed her arm, and she teleported to the door of his new apartment.
Melina handed the keys to Nieth and motioned for him to step inside. “Go on, it’s all yours, free of charge. Misham’s gift to you.”
Slowly, Nieth stepped inside and surveyed his powder blue living room. As he stooped down to trace the engravings in the wood-paneled floor, the apartment changed to (what Melina knew) fit Nieth’s preferences. “I’ll let you enjoy your house,” Melina called, “See you tomorrow.” With that, she stepped out and teleported away.
