Planchette's Predictions

As he stepped into the tent, Oliver would immediately be struck with by the intoxicating smell of burning incense. It was a heady, exotic scent that created a warm, dreamlike atmosphere within the tent. The burning candles didn't provide much in the way of illumination, casting the tent in a sort of shadowy twilight. At a glance, the herbs seemed to be very dry indeed. However, upon Oliver's close inspection, he would realize that they looked awfully similar to the plants growing at the edge of the tree line just outside of camp. They had the sort of dry, brittle look of leaves that had been dried quickly in front of a fire, rather than a slow, natural aging process. As he inspected the "herbs", a low, breathy voice rang out over across the tent, the intonation slow and lyrical.

"The fates whispered of a hero stepping through my door," said Theodosia, sitting cross-legged on a cushion before a low table. Her bracelets jangled as she raised a hand to gesture for Oliver to take a seat across from her, a large crystal ball on the table between them. 

"Are you that hero?" she asked, lighting another candle and setting it on the table beside the crystal ball. "Have you come to answer my call, to find and return a lost soul to his family? The spirits told me that you'd appear. Come now, sit. Make yourself comfortable. The tension in your muscles will disrupt the delicate link between my mind's eye and the sands of time."

Theodosia gave Oliver her most mysterious smile, sliding her fingertips over the crystal ball's smooth, polished service. This lad looked like a decent enough person, and he had come to find Absalom, so she felt a little bit bad for treating him like a common rube. Still, she had a business to run and a reputation to uphold. How was she supposed to keep food on the table if word got out that her predictions of the future were more about educated guesses than glimpses into the threads of fate? No, it wouldn't do at all. This man would get the reading that he wanted, then he could go and find her good-for-nothing brother.

"A hero indeed," she crooned, reaching out to take Oliver's hand in her own. She turned his hand face-up, running a black-painted fingernail along the lines of his palm. Nodding to herself as though in deep concentration, she wondered idly if this man had a real job or if he just made his living tracking down missing children. Whatever it was, she supposed, it was a lucky thing that he'd been around.

"You've come to the right place, hero," she said. "I see glory in your future, the glory of a job well done. You will seek out what has been lost, bringing it back into the light. There may be difficulty ahead of you, but I'm sure that you'll push through it. That's what heroes do, after all. You're destined for greatness, I can see it in your future."

She smiled again, trying her best to look read the man's face and gauge his reaction to her fortune. An encouraging one seemed like the right direction to go, especially if she wanted him to help her. He looked to be the sort of man who liked to be told promising things, after all.

Theodosia knelt on a cushion, feet swept to the side as she stirred her tea and waited for customers. Business had been quiet for much of the day, with her only customer being a bent-backed old woman asking whether her son had survived. Theodosia had given her a vague, noncommittal answer, and the woman had left seeming somewhat less than satisfied. She'd always hated when customers asked after specific people, especially when it was almost certain that they'd drowned in the flooding. The last thing she wanted was to tell someone that their loved one was dead and gone, only for them to wash up on the beach or arrive on a ship full of survivors, for such an event would likely spell the end of her business. The townsfolk would realize that she was a fraud and run her out of town, which would undoubtedly lead to a horrible death of hunger or exposure in the wild. She shuddered, not wanting to think about such a fate.

When the tent flap opened and somebody else stepped in, Theodosia resisted the urge to look up immediately. It wouldn't do for a fortune-teller to look surprised, after all. She continued to stir her tea, looking up only after a measured moment and giving the strange woman her most mysterious smile. She'd always thought it was rather rude for people to simply come in and demand that she read their fortunes as though she were a mere show pony, but seldom voiced her annoyance. 

"Child of fortune," she said, rising slowly and striding over to take a seat across from the newcomer. "Welcome. I had a feeling that you'd be finding your way here soon. A fortune you request, and a fortune you shall receive. As for your gold, though...I'm afraid I've little use for that at the moment. Have you anything else of value? Tea leaves, silks, liquor...anything of the sort? Comfort of the body frees the mind to look beyond, after all. As for your fortune...is there anything in particular that you'd like to know? The ocean of fate is vast, and it would help me greatly to know what exactly to look for."