Chapter 1 - Fortunes
The shuffle of cards and spitting of crackling fire fill the small, ancient bow top caravan along with its humming filled the space. Lavish silks and fabrics draped from the ceiling, deep purples and dark blues littered by moons and suns with faces along with a few stars, with fabrics that were deep red and green. The space smelled of herbals teas and incense which burned in a small, round wooden burner. Eyes were a common motif. They made me feel as though they were watching the session. As if they were observers of fate, awaiting the outcome of mine and the many others before me.
On the left side of the caravan was an old wood burner stove, the fire flickering at the glass that contained it. Licking up the glass pane as if begging to be freed. On top was a copper kettle which I can only presume was where that herbal tea scent was coming from. There was a little wooden cabinet sat next to it, it overflowed with herbs and teas and other food items that were barely visible in the fire and candlelight. To my right and closer to the back on the left were two old bench like seats. Plush with sofa like padding and overflowing with pillows ranging in sizes and colours.
My eyes glance up to the walls at it continues to shuffle its cards intently.
Shelves covered the remaining wall space with odd trinkets along with old glass shaker cabinets. A pendulum swung side to side, another eye right on the top adorn with gems glistened in the fire light, Jewellery hung from the edges, threatening to fall at any given moment, some with beads of tumbled gemstones and some made from silver and copper. Small porcelain cups and tea sets stacked carefully on one another, collecting dust and littered with cobwebs. It must have thought it would have guests more frequent. The thought would have made my heart ache if it weren’t for dread that filled it. Along with the china wear were copper and steel pots, pans hung from botched up nails hammered roughly into the wall, leaving splinters flaking off the already flaky walls. A spider crawls along the metal wear, trailing along the surface before disappearing into the shadows. The rest of the shelving was covered in melted wax of tall candles, the wax drips frozen as if they were icicles on a snowy day. The glass shaker cabinets were too far in the back away from the light to see. I could only assume it was more food storage as I barely spot a tin of peaches .
Behind it must be where it would retire at night. The crimson drapes drawn close, but I can spot a plush quit and a circular window through the small gap between the middle.
My eyes then land back on it.
A hunched over creature; its skin a ashy white making it look sickly with long black nails and the tips of its fingers matched from charcoal and dust, the colour fading into the things skin tone. It had two sets of arms, right now the two sets were shuffling the tarot deck it split in half. It lower face was only visible beneath the tattered rags it formed into a cloak, the blues and purples with yellow suns were strung together with a poor stich job and the fabrics with no direction. A poor patchwork cloak was the only way to describe it, and even it too was surprisingly covered in cobwebs.
For the lower part of its face, it looked young. Its voice was soft and smooth as it hummed. When it spoke to me earlier, I could only describe it as ethereal. Something like an angel’s voice but was distorted.
In an odd way, it was comforting. In this strange realm of darkness, it too appeared to be a light. The lantern by its door called me in.
But now I feel like I should not be here.
As if I was lured here. Its light was a lure, and its offers of food and tea were to give me a false sense of hope. Yet I accepted its offers without hesitation. The hunger was beginning to drive me mad, and my throat was dry. Now I sit here. On the opposite side of the chabudai. Seated upon a velvet, deep purple cushion while I wait for my tea and fortune.
I watch as it stretches its arms towards me, gently placing two piles of cards before me.
a grin spread upon its face, and it slowly leaned back on its seat. My skin began to itch as I look at the split deck before me.
I hear the whistling of the copper kettle grow louder, and my eyes fixate as the creature before me began to stretch its arm towards the kettle. Bones clicking as it stretched even more so, so much I thought that its bones may break, and skin may tear. Its Boney hand wraps around the handle before slowly retracting it make, a quite groan escaping its lips as it pulled its arm back into place.
It then faces me as it carefully places the kettle on the low ground table.
“I… apologise.”
It croaked out, the smoothness of its voice no longer seemed comforting like before as it began to pour the tea into the small porcelain cup before me that it retrieved earlier.
“I have not…done that…in a while.” It finished before placing down the kettle after pouring into its own.
I stare in silence for a moment. The smile on its face was a little too wide and a little to forced. My insides began to feel itchy, my skin tingled and anxiety began to settle in.
“Did that hurt?” I forced out, my voice was quite and barely a whisper.
It was still for a moment. As if it turned into stone for a brief second. Before tilting its head to the side, as if it were thinking for the correct response.
“a little…but again…it’s been a while…since I done something…like that.” Happy with its response it gestures to the cards. Again, with that grin plastered on its face again. I could feel its eyes watch me intently, the anticipation radiation off its body. Its grin becoming wider and wider by the second.
“Pick…one.” It demands, the distortion more present than before.
I look down at the two piles before me, settled nicely on the black cloth were the two piles that it so tediously shuffled. I swallowed, my hand hovering between the two reaching over one and then the other.
It’s a pile of cards. No need to over think it.
Yet a part of me does. A part of me wants to pick the correct pile. This thing before me… its hiding something. It may not be… but the feelings of dread, anxiety and doubt flood my very being as I sit here, accepting its offers of hospitality.
I pick up the left pile carefully, not to spill the cards before handing it over to the creature.
“Are you…sure you want…this pile?” it asks, picking up the pile that was on my right. I nod, the decision felt right. For the first time in the last hour, I felt sure and confident. An intrigued hum escapes its throat.
“Very well.” I began, now placing down the discarded pile and shuffling the set of cards I chose. a toothy grin now spread across its face, now showcasing rows upon rows of needle-like teeth.
“let’s see…what the realms…have instore for you.”
With two hands resting on the table the other shuffle, quickly, gracefully and in an unnatural way. It was still as it did its work, as if only its hands were permitted to move while the rest was locked in time. The grin unwavering and body frozen.
Eventually, it relaxed. The body now moving as it spread the cards before me. Giving me all the options to pick from. But were they really options?
“Human child…the cards that lay before you…will answer you.” It began. The comforting tone was present in its voice as all four hands gestured the cards.
“They will reveal… your deepest desires and…answer your burning questions.” It takes a sip of tea from the small cup. Placing it down with a quite thud before its grin retuned.
My eyes fixate back to the cards before me. The cards will not answer and reveal anything. They will seal a fate. The candle maker told me so. Before I made my way here, I was warned of the fortune teller who roams the dark lands. It’s bow top caravan spotted on stormy nights like tonight, parked in the dark wood for wary travellers to spot its comforting light of the lantern by its door.
Offering hospitality and a tarot card reading. A reading that seals their fate. One where it has driven many men mad trying to escape, only to be swallowed whole by their foretold future.
We sit in silence, the howling of the wind outside more prevalent now that the kettle is no longer boiling, the ticking of the pendulum quiet in the background as I sit.
“What would you like…the cards to tell?”
I look up, its head is tilted, the grin no longer present as curiosity lingered on its face. In its hands was the cup of tea it poured earlier. It sits awaiting my choice. With a sigh I glance down at the cards.
“You can ask…as many as three.” It holds up three Boney fingers. My eyes linger its frame, the questions swirl in my mind some were questions with too complex answers and somewhere ones that have none. So, I stick to the one that will be answered.
“What does fate and my future have in store for me?” the question fell from my lips and a wide grin spread across its face, one more natural and wicked, one that was twisted and cruel.
“What does fate have for you?... choose your cards…only three… if that’s what you only want to know” It cooes, the glint of its eyes from the candles made them slightly visible underneath the hood.
All I saw was anticipation.
I pluck a set of three, the cards sat side by side until I took them from the spread before me. Handing them to the fortune teller before me.
It hums in curiosity, in intrigue and in excitement.
It places its cards down on the table before it. The writing and pictures not like the ones at home.
“the cards foretell… that you dear child shall…always be in a constant…state of danger… the longer you stay here.” It tells, holding the first card up. It was a tower, covered in black webs and the sky was red with a white moon looming behind in the crimson sky.
“Those who you meet…are never to be trusted…the beings that lurk in the dark lands are…beyond salvageable and…do not have your best interest.” It continues, taking a sip of tea before holding up the second card. A looming shadow in reverse, it eyes were white and wild as it towered over the poor lamb. It takes the last card, looking at it before speaking once more.
“You shall make it out… home is not as far away as you think…watch out for those in the shadows and…keep in mind the warnings you are given… you will make it alive dear child…your sanity however, is determined by your choices.” It places the final card down, a dying meadow with curled in willow trees, a sight of death with a sun smiling down.
I stare at the cards; I have sealed my fate. A fate that seals my survival at most and warns me of those who lurk in this place. I look up at the fortune teller who sits in anticipation. Awaiting my response to my new reality.
“By those you meet… do you mean the candle maker and the wicker lad?” I ask, thinking back to those who I may have thought had my best interest at heart, a lump forms in my throat and weight in my chest when it dips its head down.
“He keeps his pantry…locked for a reason child…tell me… did you not notice the smell of copper and the hunger in his eyes as he fed you bread and cheese…and the disappointment when you left?” it smiles sickly, nausea began to settle in as it continued.
“Or perhaps…when the wicker lad was quick to…hide his lust of a tongue to call his own…so that he may speak once more.” Its smile died down as it sat in wait, my breathing hitched as I tried to calm myself. If that was the case, then I am truly alone in this place. My thought that spiralled came to halt and I slowly looked up. Staring into where I could only assume were where its eyes would be.
“What do you want?” I ask. Frozen in my seat as I hear its distorted chuckle, its head hung low as it did so. Its hands wrapping around itself as it did so.
“Dear child…I need nothing from you no more… your fate is now mine and…fate has been kind to you.” It smiles softly. My hands rest upon my knees as my eyes continued to be fixated on it.
It pushes the cup of tea towards me. The dull glint of its pearl-like eyes finally catching the candlelight. Its face glinting like snakeskin.
I sit and stare at the cup in front of me. Finally taking the small china cup in hand and downing the tea.
“ you should…move along dear child… the shadows are watching you…it is not safe to rest here.” Disappointment seeped into each word it spoke, it finally stood up once more, its makeshift cloak now wrapped tightly around its frame before turning to crawl into the small nook near the ceiling to retire.
“Where should I go?” I ask, the howling wind swirling through the trees outside as the storm began to pass over us. It waited, the ticking of the trinket and crackling fire as the fire on the stove began to die away.
The creaking of bones returned as it stretched its arm from behind the curtain towards me on the other side of the caravan. It held a piece of paper, wrapped in twin and sealed with wax.
“This will…take you were…you need to go.” The sleepiness was present in their distorted voice. Murmurs of settling into its bed it left me in the stillness of its home.
The sound of painful croaking could be heard in the distance outside. The echo carrying across the dark lands.
“Can I not stay the night?” I ask. My heart beginning to ache from anxiety of being caught out there.
“No dear child…they know you’re here…I do not have wards…strong enough to keep both…of us safe.” It reaches to the shelf and pulls out a small bone, inscribed with runes and covered in wax and herbs.
“This will throw…them off for a while…now go before the…storm is at its peak…they live just north from here…they will keep you safe for…the night.” It yawned, the sound of retracting skin and clicking bones returned as its arm behind the curtains once more.
“You told me not to trust everyone.” I state, staring at the curtains which it resides behind. My skin crawling as the loud agonizing croaking returned, only closer than before.
“That is…correct…but they are like I and that…is the safest option you got now…go, they are not…far now.” It replies. I stare at the curtain one last time. Hoping for it to change its mind, but the croaking is close now, almost becoming shrieks as they draw near. It has done what it can, it cannot protect me. There is no point in sitting in wait for the shadows to take me.
“Thank you.” I whisper before turning towards the door. The wind it strong and when I close the door the candlelight inside diminishes instantly and the lantern dies into smoke. The exterior now broken in despair, wood rotten and the metal rusted.
Maybe it was the wards disguise. Maybe it has taken far away while it slept in its warm bed.
It isn’t the biggest priority on my mind right now. The croaking is near, and the smoke of a home up north guides me.
All I can do is run. Run in the rain and hail to somewhere warm enough to sleep. Hopefully to someone who will keep me safe.
Even if it is for their own gain.
