Melisande's Misadventures

Mathias took this as his cue to leave, hefting his nephew onto his shoulders and galloping away, the sound of delighted squeals slowly trailing off.

Cadence stifled a laugh. The women had become closer over the years, but they still extended a sort of professional reserve between them. It was how Cadence did things. How she would continue to do things, until Melisande was no longer her student. She waited a beat more, expecting a fifth figure. No cloddish steps. No grumbled complaints. "No Mr. Meadowshine?"

Melisande frowned. "Still out of town on a job. That's why I'm so…." She paused, at a loss for words. "Like this."

A few moments of rushed apologies and greetings later, and they were seated at the rough-hewn kitchen table inside. Half of the table was overtaken with carrot peelings, broken eggshells, a dusting of spilled oats. Meli flushed at the sight of the mess, quickly brushing it all into her hands and then into the bin. She dusted her palms in her skirts and then set the copper kettle atop the stove. 

"Where were we?"

"Well…." Cadence began, drumming fingertips atop the oak surface. "We had a progress review meeting. The mentors."

Melisande raised her eyebrows. "Well I know I've slowed a bit with my studies in the last few weeks, but it can't be helped. I can be flexible! Harder working. I could-"

Cadence extended an arm to gently shush her. "They're of the opinion that you've plateaued, Mrs. Meadowshine." Cadence dropped her hand into her lap. "And I agree."

The woman's brows knit defensively, and she gesticulated with the speckled teacup she'd just picked up. It was painted to look like a robin's egg and flashed bright blue as Meli gestured. "Well how do you like that! Isn't that what they said last year?" 

Cadence smirked. "Yes, and you sweet talked us into letting you continue until the mentors reconvened."

Melisande tugged at a loose curl as she poured hot water into the cup. She squeezed three slices of lemon into it, followed by a tiny pinch of salt. Cadence accepted it with a nod of gratitude. She surveyed her mentee thoughtfully, wondering how to say these next words.

"We think it's time you graduated to the next step." Cadence waited. “Fieldwork. Real fieldwork, Melisande. Not just scrapes and cuts on sailors.”

Melisande's eyes flashed with worry as she flicked her gaze down to the whorls in the wood of the table. "You know that's not workable for me."

Cadence leaned forward a little, wrinkles forming on her brow. "I know you think it's not. Melisande, you have a gift. And you have a decision to make."

"But Lothis is still working a job in Arathi. This might be the longest one he's taken. I can't just pick up and go! I have a family. They're relying on me."

Cadence's expression was impassive, unreadable. They'd long ago discovered it was best to let Melisande talk herself into the right thing. Interrupting the process only led to frustration.  

"I mustn't. Who would feed the chickens?"

She leaned an elbow on the table, eyes going unfocused as she thought. "Who would keep the world turning for Lothis?" An anxious laugh escaped. She was jesting, partly. He was, as ever, hung up on pride. His aim was to support them single handedly, though Meli was quick to remind him that odd healing jobs paid for the small barn, the house addition, the little trips around the Eastern Kingdoms meant to stimulate Lothis's boyhood nostalgia and their son's imagination.

"But he's surely coming back any day now." Two seconds ticked by. "And isn't it my turn?"

Melisande's eyes began to blaze brightly,  brimming with twin fires of building excitement. "It is! It's my turn." She slapped her palms excitedly on the tabletop. 

Cadence chuckled softly. "We have commissions for the Dragon Isles coming out of our ears, thero'shan. They’re starving for talent."

Melisande worried her lower lip between her teeth. "Not exactly close to home."

"But not far, either."

"I'll consider it." She sighed heavily.

Cadence nodded slowly. She couldn't agree too hastily. It made the flighty young priestess anxious and skittish to hear someone affirm her too overtly, after all. "Good."

Melisande gave a slow, spreading smile like melted butter. "Does this mean I can call you by your first name, then? If I'm no longer your student?"

"You'll have to wait until the paperwork is completed." The tone was half serious, half mild teasing. Cadence drained her cup in three hasty swallows. Leading a horse to water was thirsty work.

She hoped Melisande didn't lose her nerve,  again. 

Cadence felt a pang of wistfulness and loss, watching her student bustle in the kitchen. Guiding someone's growth was always gratifying; guiding Melisande, damaged and fearful, bursting with hope and the Light's warmth, had been especially rewarding. 

But she could do the best thing for Melisande. She could give this baby bird a push from the nest. 

"Well as soon as Lothis returns", I’ll let you know.”

Cadence nodded again, but cleared her throat and stood up. “The Light requires commitment and growth. I know you know that. But maybe hearing it again would help. You’ve been doing a lot of the former. It’s time for the latter.”

"I know. I'll let you know once I-" Melisande paused at the sound of the front door creaking on its hinges, followed by a loud, window-rattling thunk as it connected with a wall. The door slammed shut again a half second later, and the sound of Len and Khida bickering in the entryway followed. Meli gave Cadence a look, as if to say "See what I deal with?"

Cadence picked up her satchel, taking her cue to leave. Her tone was warm but firm as she delivered her parting thoight. "You've been saying 'I know' for a year. Write me when you've made a decision, Mrs. Meadowshine." 

She let herself out through the back door, avoiding the noise and commotion as best she could. Now all she could do was wait.