“I can know many, and tell more, if you wish it.” The woman flipped some hair over her shoulders. “The fire burns away all lies.”
“You’re a sorcerer,” Vhalla stated; it was as though she could smell the magic radiating off the woman.
“I am a Firebearer,” the woman affirmed with a nod.
“What is your name?” Vhalla pushed Daniel’s arm down, taking a step forward.
“I’ve had many names, I could give you one, or I could let you chose a name for yourself. Then it will be something we alone can share.” The woman continued to lounge against one of the cases.
“Tell me the name you would like me to call you. Invented or otherwise.” Instinct told Vhalla to make as few choices as possible when interacting with this woman.
“Vi,” the Westerner said simply. “Would you like me to read your curiosities?”
“Read our curiosities?” Daniel asked.
“I am a Firebearer, I am one with the flames, and with my eyes I can see into the future. You come with curiosities, questions, in your heart and I will give you answers,” the woman proclaimed.
Vhalla was skeptical, but the woman had known her name. “I’ll do it.” She felt overcome with bravery.
The woman gave her a knowing smile. “You must pick four things: three to burn, one to hold.” The Firebearer motioned around the room at the cases, and Vhalla understood. These things weren’t for sale; this was a fortune teller and these were tools for her trade. Vhalla began to stroll about the space, Daniel hovering over her shoulder.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he whispered directly into her ear so the woman would not hear. His proximity was warm, even compared to the heat of the day.
“It’ll be fine. Why not live a little? I am here, and somehow she knew my name.”
Vhalla scanned the strange objects; there was an impossible amount of knickknacks at random order in the cases. A jar of quills caught her eye. Vhalla reached over, thumbing around. Selecting a gray silver plume Vhalla brought it to the counter the woman rested on.
Then Vhalla was wandering again. A bunch of wheat—home—and rose petals, a different feeling of home, collected on the counter. The last thing—something to hold—was the hardest to find. She spent far too long going from case to case looking at this or that.
In the end, it was a fine silver chain that was draped out of a halfway closed jewelry box that caught her eye. Vhalla slid open the glass of the case and pulled lightly on the chain. It was a simple, silver pocket watch that was designed to be worn around the neck. Vhalla stared at it closely. The links were oddly familiar. It reminded her of Aldrik’s, she realized. “This ... this is what I will hold.” Vhalla walked back over to the woman.
“An interesting spread.” The Firebearer sounded amused. “Come.” Vi carried the burning goods into an even smokier backroom. Their shoes were removed as though it was a sacred place. Tapestries and rugs covered the floor and walls, making it feel very small and intimate. They each took a place on either side of a smoldering fire pit.
“Are you certain you wish an observer?” she asked, looking at Daniel. “I will read the futures as I see them.”
“I suppose ...” Vhalla looked up uncertainly at Daniel. “If you don’t mind?”
“I’ll wait right out here.” Daniel slipped back out of the heavy curtain, and Vhalla heard his footsteps fade away.
The woman knelt over the fire pit and reached into the smoldering coals. She lifted them up and dropped them, their orange-hot glow bright in the dim light. Flames licked around her fingers and soon her arms up to her elbows were covered in soot. The woman reached across and held out her thumb, marking Vhalla’s face.
“Vhalla Yarl, blessed bird of the East. The one who can soar without wings. The first chick to fly the cage. The first to return to our land.”
The woman leaned back. Taking the quill, she threw it into the fire pit. Flames roared white. Vi grabbed the wheat, adding it to the fire. The color changed to orange. Finally the rose petals were sacrificed and the fire changed a deep unnatural crimson, almost black.
Vhalla held her breath as the woman eased her face into the flame. Face-down she opened her eyes to the fire, and Vhalla let out an uneasy sigh as the Firebearer was completely unaffected by its heat. Slowly the flames began to die down, leaving a light-purple ash at the bottom of the pit.
“The present burns away, leaving the future to rise from its ashes.” Vi leaned over and took a large handful of the ash and threw it into the air over them. The fine powder began to slowly swirl and trickle down, lighter than snow, and hovered before her, making unknown shapes before finally settling to the floor. Vi’s eyes burned a bright red color.
“You will march to victory, and it will be won upon your silver wings. But the winds of change you will set free will also shatter that tender hope upon which you fly. You will lose your dark sentry,” the woman foretold.