Post by Jagan on Jan 26, 2005 15:51:47 GMT -7
The Tarot
image by Thomas Canty
image by Thomas Canty
It's early morning and the fog from the moors has shrouded the town wall of Gloomy Vale to near invisibility as it so often had. As I approach the town I can hear the bog wraithes crying in the distance, beckoning the lone traveller to a solitary death. The skeleton warriors are out as well. I can hear the clanking of their armour as they pass in the distance, those poor wandering souls of battles fought and lost.
My horse grows restless as we near the town wall and I have to dismount to lead him through the gate.
The sentry nods as he recognizes my clan colours and helps me steady the uneasy horse.
"Friday the thirteenth milady," he says matter of factly, "I don't blame him for being spooked. And this town? If I had my druthers no way I would be staying here that's for true. Watch yourself, milady, assassins come here and all sorts of unsavory creatures if you catch my drift."
I nod, and tell him I will heed his warning. I lead my horse to a nearby stable and leave him in the care of a groomsman there and begin to walk towards the inn.
I am stopped on my way by an old woman, a seer. "Your fortune read, milady?" her voice near cackled.
" I will take one card to be read," I reply, handing her a gold piece, "on this day of ill-luck."
I place my hand on the deck and draw one card as instructed, the Queen of Swords.
"Milady, you have the gift of a keen mind and natural intuition. You have uncanny powers of perception and insight. You see easily past deception and confusion to the heart of a matter. You are able to maintain a forthrightness, calm and wit even in the face of the most trying circumstances."
I thank her again pressing another goldpiece in her hand and enter the inn.
I settle into a corner of the room, withdrawing from my bag a quill and jar of ink and paper to write on. My stories of the deeds of our clan had spread it was true, causing much unease by the enemy and dire threats to my person. But of late, I have begun to believe I was losing sight of my true objective and the threats were starting to diminish my soul.
I sit for maybe an hour contemplating my role in the clan and how to best serve it and whether I had lost my way, when the old seer approaches and sits down at the table with me. I am about to dismiss her when she puts a hand on mine. I see it is not the hand of an old woman but that of a strong man. I look up into the face of the hag who is pulling off the hood she is wearing. It is not an old woman at all!
"We have met once before my faithful servant."
"Chaos!" I whispered loudly.
"None other, Lady Jagan."
"I am afraid I am losing my faith, sir. Others have been spreading stories and innocent masses are feeding into them. They make you look crass and ill-mannered and all of us subservient. They kill innocents in the name of the light. And tell us the 'Darkside' has no right to intercede in the face of injustices."
I look into his face, the sculptered features, the icy blue eyes, that tell me he suffered no fools. And I admit that I am more than a little frightened.
He stands up and nods. "Heed the tarot card I drew for you, your heart knows the path already. Follow it. Your pen is your sword. USE it."
And as quickly as if I dreamed it, he is gone from the room.
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