The spring time blossoms covered the tree and the crisp fresh after-rain smell wafted through the air. The stranger walked through the forest glen. He knew that few people ventured into this part of the realm. But, he needed knowledge. He delicately stepped through the flower, trying to disturb as little of it as possible.
“Who disturbs my garden?” an elderly female voice called out from the shadows. The voice held power, command, and authority in it's tone. It nearly bowled the stranger over. He had training in the use of his voice, but his skill even after years of practice could not match what those four words carried with it.
The stranger cleared his throat. “You very well know who I am. Or, at the very least who I represent. I come to speak to you abou-”
“I know why you are here.” the voice responded. “And yes, I know who you think yourself to be. But the question was directed at who thinks themselves important enough to destroy my garden!”
The stranger looked down at his feet and saw that the assorted flowers that were crushed, crumpled, and crippled by his walking over them.
“Many apologies My Lady,” The stranger called out, still uncertain of what direction he should be addressing his voice.
“Then get out of my GARDEN!”
The intensity of the voice caused the stranger to jump. He quickly scrambled to the outside of the flower patch. Once out he casts his eyes around the grove.
“My Lady, I have come seeking guidance. There has been a brutal killing, the Autumn King is no more. The Prince has been lost and must be found. Time grows short.”
A woman hobbled out of the tree line and pointed her knobby wooden cane at the stranger. “Impatient aren't we? It's only mid-spring. The Autumn Court need not worry about an empty throne until the Equinox.”
“But, if we do not find the Prince soon, it could lead to the downfall-”
“HA! You mean if you don't find the boy to groom him for the position, you may not get the puppet you desire.”
The stranger shook his head violently, “Never. I am a dutiful servant of the Seasonal Throne. The Royalty of Change are my masters, not the other way around!”
The woman had made her way to a lichen covered tree stump. She sat her old bones down and let out a deep sigh. “Hmm? You think so? Well, for what it's worth. I believe you. At least I believe that is what you believe to be true.”
She reached into her tattered robes and pulled out a deck of cards. Despite her apparent age and arthritic condition, the cards in her hands were handled with grace and agility. She shuffled the deck, as she did the plants around her grew and shaped themselves into a make-shift table top. After the deck was fully shuffled she dealt seven card onto her patchwork leaf table. Six cards, all face down in a circle, with the seventh in the middle.
The stranger walked over to the table and noted that the lady slid the remaining cards back into her sleeve. “So you'll help me? You'll help me find the Autumn King?”
The old lady chuckled and looked at him with a crooked grin. “What makes you think my help is exclusive to you and your court? My actions could cause pain just as much as pleasure. For you . . . “ and her voice drifted off, become distant, “or for others.”
Her hand moved out to the top card of the spread and stopped just short of turning it over. Her eyebrow arched and she asked in a solemn voice. “Be absolutely sure you want this. Once the cards are turned, the events need must play out as planned.”
The stranger nodded, but was unsure if the lady were actually speaking to him.
“So be it.” She announced. Turning the top card over, she explained her telling:
“First we are told of your quest . . . the Earth King. You search for he who would take the throne. He who would be ruler in the Fall. This is no surprise to you,but is important to establish for the telling.”
As she laid the card down the card melted into the table and in it's place a small tree grew into it's place. The tree matured and soon to the appearance of a replica of the Seasonal Throne, complete with a miniature Autumn King sitting upon it.
The witch moved to the second card in the reading, at the bottom left, and turned it over. Once again the card melted and from it grew a simple miniature of what the card depicted. A young Nereid with overflowing blue hair and slight green tint to her skin was holding scales in one hand and covering her eyes with the other.
“Justice, is the path you follow. Remember that. Justice, not revenge. You may feel that you are to be Judge, Jury, and Executioner of those that wronged the Autumn Court. But you are not!” The witch cackled.
Her hand moved to the bottom right card and hovered there for a second.”So where does your path lead you, eh?” Yet, before the stranger could respond she turned over the third card. Once the card melted a small will o' wisp of a light birthed itself from the leafy greens of the table top.
“The Moon. You will need to follow your instincts. They will guide you correctly. Don't second guess yourself.”
“Now, for the opposition you will face on your quest.” the woman smiled as she turned over the the top left card. “Hmmm . . . very interesting.” A small storm cloud emerged out of the table top in place of the over-turned card. “Ace of Air, inverted. There will be miss-direction and deception at every step of of challenge. This is why it is important to remember your instincts. They will not fail you, if you truly trust them.” She pointed back to the little floating moon on the table.
Moving to the card in the top right position she spoke as she turned it, “But, you will have assistance. Your victory on this quest will be dependent on the effective use of this assistance.”
A small figure grew out of the table, a knight cast in blue armor. The emblem of a mountain blazoned across it's heraldry. “The Earth Champion. His assistance is fairly obvious. He is invested in finding the rule of his Caste. Yet, if memory serves, the Champions have not been heard of in many years.” The witch stated with an evil cackle.
After taking a mo0ment to compose herself the fortune teller moved to the card in the bottom position. “Even with your instincts and help from the likes of the court Champion there will still be a sacrifice that will need to be made.” her hand caressed the card, letting her finger run over the back of the card in the motion of a figure eight . . . or was that an allusion to infinity.
“Are you absolutely certain you want to continue with this?” she asked.
The stranger knew with absolute certainty this time she was asking him directly. He looked straight into her eyes and said with as much authority he could muster. “Yes.”
A dark light cast over the witches eyes and she whispered, “So be it.”
The Sixth Card was overturned and the stranger gasped. Sucking air with a quick intake of breath [sounds awkward, need better description]. The card melted into the table and a new figure grew out of the leaves. Dressed in brightly colored greens and yellows and whites, the small boy looked around pushing his overgrown page boy haircut out of his eyes. The miniature saw the stranger standing above him and the Water Page waved emphatically in hello.
The witch-woman was quiet. A few seconds passed and she looked to the spread and then to the stranger. “This needs no interpretation from me.”
The stranger nodded slowly and his eyes set on the final seventh card in the center of the table. It laid yet to be over turned. The lady turned it over and watched it melt into the table. In it's place another representation of the Seasonal Throne arose. The man who sat on the throne this time was not as clearly defined as being from one court or another.
“The High King.” She told him. “If you succeed in your quest for the Earth King . . . you could stand to gain . . . well, significantly.”
The Fortune Teller Witch looked up at the stranger. “So, you asked for knowledge. I have given that of which you sought. Was my telling worth the price?”
The stranger stood in stunned silence. He was not sure of the answer. There were answers provided, problems he had wanted solved, which now were. But there were so many more questions raised.
The table, made of vines and leaves and plants seemed to disassemble itself and fall back into the greenery of the forest. The lady stood and stumbled back into the shadows. She touched the strangers arm as she passed. “Be sure not to trample any more of my garden on the way out, boy.”
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