- Text Size +
Two weeks had passed, and Nick couldn’t get the beautiful witch out of his mind.

Kevin had decided to let Nick keep his painting of Melanie, as he didn’t want trouble with her very powerful father. In these two weeks, Kevin had been training Nick on some new techniques, and finally thought he was ready for a landscape portrait.

“Find a place that calls out to you, Nickolas, and paint it. The magic will let you know when you’ve made the right choice,” Kevin said, seriously.

“Yes, Mr. Richardson,” Nick said, shouldering his equipment bag. He knew exactly where he was wanting to go.

A couple of hours later, Nick was at one of his favorite places. Beyond the woods that surrounded, well, Riverwoods, there were mountains, rivers, fields, and a lake.

Nick’s favorite place was where the woods met the lake, yet you could still see the mountains on the other side of the water.

As Kevin predicted, something inside him told him that this was what he needed to paint.

And paint he did.

______________________________________________________

Melanie stilled her breathing when she heard someone coming. She had hoped this would be a place of her own, to get away from the pressures of her family.

She found it a week ago, and for a week, she’d been stealing away to sit in the trees and just free her mind in peace.

Now that peace was disturbed, and she was not happy about it.

Carefully looking down, she saw a man with blond hair pass under her tree, lost in his own thoughts.

She knew his face, but oh, what was his name?! That charming young man who was in Mr. Dorough’s mercantile?

Melanie observed him as he set up an easel and began to paint.

Art was truly his gift, she noted, as his brush flew with inhumane speed yet was capturing the scene before them beautifully.

She went to move closer on the branch, so she could get a better look, but the branch made an ominous cracking sound, as if warning her to stay back.

The man turned at the noise.

“Anyone there?” he asked, warily.

Melanie held her breath, not wanting to give herself away.

“Revelio,” the man muttered, and it felt like a bright light was shining directly on her.

“Miss Woods?” he asked, confused.

“Well, yes, it’s me,” she said with her eyes closed in defeat.

“Pardon me if I sound rude, but what in the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

Nick! That was his name, Melanie thought as she got a good look at his face.

“I could be asking you the same think, Mr. Carter, but that can wait. Could you please help me down?” she asked.

Cocking an eyebrow up, he obliged, extending his hand to hers.

“Thank you.”

“To answer your question, Miss Woods, I’ve been coming here for years, to paint and to clear my head,” Nick said politely, although she could tell he was a bit annoyed.

Melanie felt awful.

“I’m so sorry, I thought…I found it last week and it seemed like a good place to…”

“…to clear your head when you’re overwhelmed,” Nick finished.

Melanie smiled.

“Yes, Mr. Carter,” she said.

“Miss Woods, please. Call me Nick,” he said.

“Then call me Melanie,” she replied.

Nick laughed.

“Okay Melanie, so can I ask what does a well off young woman such as yourself have to be overwhelmed about?”

He noticed a shadow cross her face, and he regretted asking the question.

“Can I trust you not to tell anyone?” she asked him.

Nick nodded immediately, the answer not being what he expected.

“You have my word.”

Melanie sighed, and sat down against the tree trunk. She looked up at him.

“My family expects too much of me, Nick. They’re expecting me to do something I dread doing.”

Nick saw how troubled she looked. He sat next to her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Melanie glanced over.

“Take my hand, and I can show you,” she simply said.

Nick slowly put his hand in hers and was transported into Melanie’s mind.



“Don’t resist,” Melanie’s voice told him as he struggled to leave her memory.

Nick calmed down and watched the scene play out in front of him.

“Edmund, there is absolutely no way this can be repaid,” a dark skinned man was saying to Mr. Woods in an office. He was looking through Melanie’s eyes, standing at the door frame.

“Paolo, please, what do you want? My house, my business? I’d do anything, please, just spare my life.”

The man named Paolo laughed.

“Your potions killed my wife, who was pregnant with my daughter.”

“It was an accident-“

“It was careless, and messy, and I do not appreciate it. There is nothing that can bring Tatiana back to me.”

“Paolo…please…” Mr. Woods said.

There was a pause.

“Your daughter…how old is she?”

“Seventeen, sir,” Mr. Woods said, fear very evident in his voice.

“She is very beautiful, yes?”

“Some say the most beautiful in all of New York, sir.”

“Now that Tatiana is gone, certainly.”

“What does my daughter have to do with this discussion?”

“Everything, now. I know how you’re going to repay your debt. I want your daughter to be my wife. That…or your entire family will be ruined.”



Nick exhaled as Melanie let go of his hand, forcing him out of her mind.

He noticed tears in her eyes.

“Melanie,” he whispered, horrified at what he’d just seen.

“I can’t do this,” she cried hysterically. “I cannot marry that man.”

Nick took her hand in his again and held it until her sobs subsided.

“It’s getting late,” he finally said. “Let’s go back to town.”

_______________________________________________________

Nick tossed and turned all night, troubled by what he’d seen in Melanie’s mind.

She was right, they were expecting too much of her.

He didn’t know why they had so suddenly jumped from formal acquaintances to friends, but he was not complaining. She needed a friend right now.

The next day, Nick set out for his spot again, and was surprised to see Melanie there in the tree.

“Good morning, Nick,” she called down to him as he set up his easel.

“Same to you, Melanie,” he replied, picking up where he left off the day before.

They sat in a comfortable silence while he finished his portrait. Murmuring an incantation, he put the magically-dried canvas into the holder and glanced up at his audience.

“Alright up there?” he asked, concerned when he saw the far away look in her eyes.

“Yes, I’m okay. I’m just thinking. It’s nice to have a friend where not every minute is filled with nonsensical chatter about who the cutest wizard is, or when the next time AJ McClean will be singing at the amphitheater…”

“Mr. Richardson knows him,” Nick said, earning a look of disbelief from Melanie.

“No he does not!?”

Nick grinned and nodded.

“Yep. They were at the same arts school or something,” he said. “He’s always got free entry to his performances.”

Melanie climbed down out of the tree.

“Do you know him?” she asked, smiling brightly. Nick stifled a snort.

“I’ve met him a couple of times. Nice man, definitely off his rocker, but talented.”

Melanie laughed.

“You seem to be a bit off your rocker as well, Nick. One of the most sought after men in all of Riverwoods, yet you stay here, painting as if you’re oblivious,” she said.

“How do you know all of this?” Nick asked her, sitting on a tree stump.

“Oh, please. All of the girls who call on my house always gossip, and a lot of them have you at the top of the list of the most handsome men in town. Vivian even says you’re one of the funniest, thanks to a practical joke you played on Mr. Dorough.”

“He had that coming. He insulted one of Mr. Richardson’s paintings,” Nick defended himself, laughing. “I didn’t know the glue would last a week. He looked like a duck for days.”

Melanie giggled.

For weeks they met at this spot, teasing the other, Melanie admiring the way his paintings seemed to live and breathe on their own. They got to know the other a bit more, as time progressed, and soon they became close friends.

“So, tell me, Nick…what brought you to apprentice with Mr. Richardson?” Melanie asked one chilly afternoon. It was obvious that winter was coming quickly, and so was her fate.

Nick sighed.

“Well, I was in finishing school when he came round, looking for apprentices. My parents had just died of the flu, and I was extremely upset. My emotions fueled my ‘creative magic’ as they called it, and the painting I did that got me the apprenticeship was one of a stormy ocean. Mr. Richardson swears he could feel the thunder rolling in the canvas. So, I came with him here, and I’ve been his apprentice for three years. I sleep in a guest house on his estate, and he helps me channel this creative magic in ways I’ve never thought possible.”

Melanie touched his hand.

“So he’s like a father?”

Nick nodded.

“Yes. He’s like a father to me.”

“Did you have any brothers or sisters?”

He shook his head.

“All gone.”

Melanie’s heart hurt for this man.

“So you’re all alone?”

“Not really. I have Mr. Richardson. And you, now,” he said.

Melanie felt her heart warm at that statement.

“Me?”

“Melanie, I feel like I could tell you anything, and you wouldn’t think less of me for it. And please forgive me, but I have to say this. I don’t want you to give in to your family,” Nick said, urgently. “What they’ve asked of you is terrible, and there’s got to be another way.”

Melanie blinked back tears.

“I don’t have a choice, Nick.”

Nick took her hands in his. Melanie looked into his blue eyes, so full of emotion, determination being the dominant one.

“Yes, you do. I swear, Melanie, I will find a way to get you out of this.”