A Walk in the Park
5th of spring, 518 AV
The Alheas Crone was uneasy. A feeling of dread had wrapped around her, like a cobweb shawl clinging to her skin, ever since the Watchtowers had flared green and announced the arrival of spring. It was a feeling she couldn't shake, and her readings had been strangely muddled on the issue; but no matter, even if she knew what was happening, it was not for her to intervene. The world had to be left to its own destiny.
Cala blew to cool the mug of tea she held in her hand, taking a sip before setting it down and resuming shuffling her cards, the well-worn edges of the deck familiar in her palms. As she shuffled the cards, the quiet shifting of them the only sound in the shack, she slowly became aware of a presence near her abode.
Rising to her feet, the ancient Dhani continued to shuffle her cards between her fingers as she walked to the door of her shack, peering out the window. A young boy was walking nearby. Cala's sharp eyes surveyed him for a moment before she made her decision, opening the front door. Turning, she breezed through the translucent curtains again, and as she did so she reached out with her djed to the shield surrounding her home.
Estavar, walking through the Alheas Park, would see a faint shimmering in the air before a shack suddenly sat in front of him where before there had been nothing. The building was rickety, and jars of multi-coloured glowing insects lined the porch, their rainbow hues illuminating the air of the early evening.
The front door hung open, strangely ominous yet welcoming all at once, beckoning to Estavar. Should he choose to enter, he would find himself standing in a simple room, occupied with a wooden table and chair. To the back of the room, sheer curtains covered another doorway, and the figure of the Alheas Crone sitting in the room beyond was just barely visible.
In the room at the back of the shack, Cala sat patiently. She'd lit the candles and her incense stick, and the small room was slowly filling with a sweet-smelling smoke wafting through the dimly illuminated air. She'd stopped shuffling her cards, instead simply holding them now; spread out on the green and gold cloth in front of her was a small velvet pouch, her cup of tea and another one freshly poured, and a small crystal orb.
"Welcome, young one," the Crone spoke softly yet firmly, her voice faintly raspy, not quite feminine nor masculine. Absently, she reached one hand up to smooth over the scarf adorning her bald head. "Do come in and have a sseat. I am the Crone, as I'm sure you know. But who are you, who hass stumbled upon my humble shack?"
Cala tilted her head slightly, the large golden hoops in her ears glinting in the candlelight. The Dhani had years of practice covering her accent, but she still slid some of her 's'es slightly longer than they should be spoken, her speech strange yet not quite sibilant. As she spoke, she leaned over to pluck a pipe from a nearby shelf, lighting it before sliding the end into her mouth and inhaling deeply, adding to the growing screen of smoke in the room when she let out a steady exhale, releasing the scent of bitter herbs to mingle with the sweet incense.
Cala blew to cool the mug of tea she held in her hand, taking a sip before setting it down and resuming shuffling her cards, the well-worn edges of the deck familiar in her palms. As she shuffled the cards, the quiet shifting of them the only sound in the shack, she slowly became aware of a presence near her abode.
Rising to her feet, the ancient Dhani continued to shuffle her cards between her fingers as she walked to the door of her shack, peering out the window. A young boy was walking nearby. Cala's sharp eyes surveyed him for a moment before she made her decision, opening the front door. Turning, she breezed through the translucent curtains again, and as she did so she reached out with her djed to the shield surrounding her home.
Estavar, walking through the Alheas Park, would see a faint shimmering in the air before a shack suddenly sat in front of him where before there had been nothing. The building was rickety, and jars of multi-coloured glowing insects lined the porch, their rainbow hues illuminating the air of the early evening.
The front door hung open, strangely ominous yet welcoming all at once, beckoning to Estavar. Should he choose to enter, he would find himself standing in a simple room, occupied with a wooden table and chair. To the back of the room, sheer curtains covered another doorway, and the figure of the Alheas Crone sitting in the room beyond was just barely visible.
In the room at the back of the shack, Cala sat patiently. She'd lit the candles and her incense stick, and the small room was slowly filling with a sweet-smelling smoke wafting through the dimly illuminated air. She'd stopped shuffling her cards, instead simply holding them now; spread out on the green and gold cloth in front of her was a small velvet pouch, her cup of tea and another one freshly poured, and a small crystal orb.
"Welcome, young one," the Crone spoke softly yet firmly, her voice faintly raspy, not quite feminine nor masculine. Absently, she reached one hand up to smooth over the scarf adorning her bald head. "Do come in and have a sseat. I am the Crone, as I'm sure you know. But who are you, who hass stumbled upon my humble shack?"
Cala tilted her head slightly, the large golden hoops in her ears glinting in the candlelight. The Dhani had years of practice covering her accent, but she still slid some of her 's'es slightly longer than they should be spoken, her speech strange yet not quite sibilant. As she spoke, she leaned over to pluck a pipe from a nearby shelf, lighting it before sliding the end into her mouth and inhaling deeply, adding to the growing screen of smoke in the room when she let out a steady exhale, releasing the scent of bitter herbs to mingle with the sweet incense.