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WARNING
Some people may find this chapter a bit emotional so please keep this in mind before continuing.
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"GIVE ME YOUR PALM." YOU SOFTLY DEMAND, HOLDING OUT YOUR OWN hand waiting for the Shelby infront of you to place his in it.
You see him look to Johnnydogs, an old family friend of yours who stands beside the seated Blinder. Johnnydogs sends him a reassuring nod, with a skeptical raise of his eyebrows and a small sigh Thomas places his hand into yours.
You look down at it, a cold shivers through your body, you inhale at the bitterness, your eyes narrowing at who this man is. Being burdened with a 'gift' is more difficult than others believe. You had gotten it from your grandmother and ever since people found out many would come visit your camp, asking to see the one that read palms. What many didn't know was that you could also do other things, you could slip through the barrier of no communication, speak to the dead in simpler terms.
To you it isn't a gift, to you it's a curse. You see things no one should have to, you know things that not many people would be able to hold up under the weight of.
Slowly, you slip your hand away from his, the shimmer in your eyes seizing to exist as you lean back in your seat, crossing your arms.
"I don't understand, nothing happened for me." The Shelby shrugs, acting as if it's all some sort of show, clearly lacking faith in you and your talent.
"It did for me." You state simply, removing the dark maroon cloth from around your head, your hair falling out of it anyway. The gold bangles on your wrist jingle and the thick rings on your hands lightly smack together.
You and the Shelby stare one another down.
"Did you see anything?" Johnnydogs asks hesitantly.
You shift your gaze towards him, your eyes intimidating and dangerous, filled with sights and secrets some can't even imagine.
Nodding, you stand, the traditional cloth upon your small round table swinging slightly as your legs hit it. You make your way to the door of your wagon, the light shining through into the dark and dimly lit room.
"And?" The Shelby encourages, widening his eyes while the rest of his body stay frozen in his casual and calm composure.
The truth is you saw three things, a newspaper, a wedding veil and a red jewel, a ruby to be precise. That was just from his palm; the spirits showed you a black horse, a horse with the name 'Monoghan Boy'.
