"So, this is where I live." Myst gestures to the grey room we now stand in. There's nothing in it besides us, a fact I find rather curious. I ask them, "Why is it empty? Don't you at least have a bed to sleep on?"
They reply, "Here in the void we can make practically anything that's inanimate appear by manipulating matter." To show me what they mean, they close their eyes briefly. A grey beanbag materialises behind them and they flop back onto it. "To do that, all you need to do is focus your will and your imagination on making the object appear. It takes some time to master, though"
I ask them curiously, "How did you learn this?"
They smile at me, "It took me a while, but I figured it out. I spent a lot of time practising until I could create basically anything with minimal effort. Though I had a lot of time to put into it." They sigh, their smile faltering a bit. I give them a questioning look and they look down, breaking our eye contact as the last of their grin fades away. "There isn't really that much to do around here," they explain with a heavy sigh.
How long has this child been here for them to commit so much time to this? From what they've made out this is quite time-consuming, so how much longer have they been here than me? Concern grows inside me for this child I've only just met, though I restrain myself from asking the questions forming in my head.
I try to brighten Myst's mood by telling them a joke. I step back to the grey panelled door we came through, now closed, and rap my boney hand sharply on it whilst saying, "Knock knock."
They look at me in confusion, already giggling a bit. "Who's there?" Myst replies.
"Spell."
"Spell who?"
"W – H – O." Realisation dawns on their face and they burst out in laughter. I chuckle lightly along with them, glad to have cheered them up. "That was horrible!" they manage to convey through their glee.
"Are you sure?" I tease. "Your laughter tells a very different story." At that they just laugh even harder. We continue on like this for a while until eventually calming down. "I have to agree with your earlier point; that was pretty bad."
They smile at me, almost glowing with their happiness. "You bet it was. Thanks for doing that though."
I feign innocence, "Whatever do you mean?"
They giggle lightly, "You know exactly what I mean. I needed that."
"Well, you're welcome then."
Satisfied that I've succeeded in my task, I decide to move onto another: void matter manipulation. I ask Myst, "What do you suggest a beginner tries to form first?"
They ponder this for a while. "Something simple. Easy to picture and made of mostly the same matter. Like… a candle."
"Okay. So I just concentrate on a candle?"
"Yeah, but you also have to focus on making it appear. That's a very important detail, because if you don't, nothing will happen." Keeping this tip in mind, I try to visualise a plain candle in front of me. Everything in the room (basically Myst and their beanbag) fades from my focus as I imagine its wax body taking shape. In my mind I see it rising as a small column from the ground. The candle's wick burrows its way out of the centre, leaving a brand-new tall and slender candle sitting on the floor. When my focus is back on reality, I see that there is in fact a grey candle on the ground. The difference is that this one has a blackened wick and is bent over crazily to the side, like a curved yellow fruit… the name has escaped my mind.
"Wow, great job!" Myst says enthusiastically. When I don't respond they explain their enthusiasm. "I wasn't expecting you to be able to form anything on your first try." Well, that definitely highlights how difficult it must be if they didn't expect ANYTHING on a first try. Still disappointed that the candle didn't turn out how I thought it would, I sigh heavily and lean back against the wall with my arms folded. "Well, I guess I have to return the favour."
"What do you mean?" I ask them.
"What is heavy forward but not backward?" I ponder this for a while, wondering how this is supposed to make sense. It dawns on me that this is probably a joke. "I don't know," I reply.
"Ton." The moment they tell me the answer my mood lightens a bit. I let out a small chuckle at their joke, causing them to smile in return.
Suddenly I see an opportunity for something familiar. I say with a wide grin on my face, "Don't you mean a SKELEton?" We both crack up at the pun. In the back of my mind something about the pun is nagging me, but I push it away for now, not wanting to cease the good mood. It's probably not important, I can come back to it later.
A/N: Hello to all! First of all I wanna thank you for reading Forgotten Faces (presumably, or perhaps you decided to scroll to the bottom of the chapter without reading). It means a lot to me knowing that people are taking time out of their day to read my story. Second of all, I'd like to thank UngroundableDaywalker, FoilyPaper, and Curalee for reviewing. I really appreciate the support. And finally, I'd like to say that I am horrible at coming up with original jokes, and the ones I do come up with aren't really that funny to anyone but me. So the jokes used in this chaptet are from Jokes4us. To find the site, just search 'jokes4us' on Google. It should be the first site. By the way, they do have dirty jokes on there apparently (I haven't checked them out and doubt I ever will) so yeah, warning about that. I will not be using those sorts of jokes in Forgotten Faces. I hope you're all enjoying the story. :)