Works-in-Progress Wednesday: "Fugitive of Crossway" Excerpt: "Changes And Chioces"

"Dear Madam, I am writing on behalf of the town of Gracenote, in the southeastern region of Outwest. We are in dire need of a schoolteacher to educate our children, and a merchant from Crossway mentioned a wise and learned woman who cared deeply about many books... Please come as soon as you are able... We eagerly await your arrival..."

Mellisande stared at the words on the page, her mind spinning with anticipation. An Outwestern schoolteacher? Those in the south of Crossway didn't place much stock in academic studies, beyond what one would need to ply a trade or distribute goods as a merchant. She was "That Storyteller" in much of the villages around the area, known for her fanciful adventures written for children, not for her intellectual prowess.

But here was a letter from a faraway town in a region hardly anyone traveled to, except to reach a destination on the other side of it, offering her whatever she wanted to just come and stay and teach the children. They wanted her there! Life-changing, indeed!

Mellisande attacked every nook and cranny of her little apartment, packing everything she would need for just one trip into one small trunk, and everything else that actually belonged to her (not just fixtures and tools that came with the place) into another larger one, for delivery. Every book she owned went into the sturdy wooden box that she could strap to her back.

She showed up in the World's Orb with the small chest in tow, her whole body tingling with excitement.
The barkeeper caught her eye and a smile broke over his face. "Mel!" He crowed as she sat at the counter. "You're looking particularly starry-eyed. I take it that letter held good news?"

Mel accepted the mug of cider he placed before her and sighed. "Depends on how you look at it, I suppose," she said pensively. "You were right about it being life-changing, though." She took a sip and watched her friend's face.
Kellan raised an eyebrow. "I was?"
"There's a school somewhere in Outwest in need of a teacher."

Kellan grinned. "That's right up your alley! Haven't you always said you wanted to be a schoolteacher, but the towns around here always imported those fuddy-duddy Academics from up North or what have you? They wouldn't accept you because you didn't have the formal learning--but it sounds like these Outwesterners ain't so picky."
Mellisande shrugged, rolling her eyes. "I know! But..." she fidgeted with the handle of the mug, running her finger over its curves. "It's change," she said.

Kellan nodded, requiring no further explanation. The way Mellisande wriggled in her seat and didn't look straight at him for several minutes spoke volumes about how uncomfortable she was at the thought of moving towns, setting up to live somewhere else after being in Willemstone for so long.
Mel took another sip of the warm cider. "That being said," she remarked, "I've got all my things packed away in that big chest over there," she gestured to where she'd abandoned it by the door. "Mind if I leave it here till I find out how things stack up where I'm going? I plan on sending for it when I get settled, but I don't see much use for one girl to be hauling two big trunks about."
Kellan nodded. "Sure thing, Mel." He turned to address the men milling about the kitchens behind him. "Oy! Preston and Bill!"

Two surly fellows raised their heads. "Yeh, Boss?"
Kellan pointed to Mel's chest. "Take that to the back loft, will ya? Mark it with this." He scribbled Mellisande's name on a scrap of paper.

It made her wince to see their blank looks as they regarded the paper upside-down. Formally learning from the formally-taught wasn't for everyone in Willemstone, it seemed. "Yeh, sure," Preston (or Bill) grunted, and the two of them hefted the chest and disappeared around a corner.

Mel had no idea where the "back loft" was, but she trusted Kellan, and she didn't doubt it would be secure. She finished the last of her cider and stood up. "I guess I just came by here to say my goodbyes, in case I don't get a chance to later." She reached out a hand, and Kellan clasped it, feeling her smooth skin against his rough palm. She did look at him then, her eyes glistening with gratitude. "You've always been good to me, Kell," she said. "I just hope I can find one person in that whole strange town who reminds me of you, so that I needn't feel so lonely and far away."

Kellan gave her hand a squeeze. "You'll do just fine, Dreamer. Post me a letter when you get settled, hey? I can write back, and you'll always have a little part of Willemstone to connect with you, wherever you go."
Mel nodded. "I'd like that." She hopped off the tall stool and lifted the handle attached to her wheeled chest. "Farewell, my friend."

Kellan raised her empty mug in salute. "Good journey to you!"
Mellisande vacated the premises, full of the awareness that she could very well be launching on the next phase of her life.

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