Old Souls

Didn't you predict That ?

"People say you can see the future... said the client. Can you tell me if my boyfriend will propose to me ?"

I stared at the client who was standing in front of me.

"Isn't it my job ? I answered, as I invited the middle-aged woman to sit on a chair garnished with faided pillows."

While I shuffled my tarot deck, I observed my client more in details. The woman had nothing peculiar, there was nothing special about her. Brown hair, brown eyes, stout features and nails bitten to the quick. In one word : she was plain. Women like that, they would walk into my cabinet almost everyday. Scared that they might be cheated on, afraid of ending up as a crazy cat-lady. Women like that, they have a hole inside them, and they fill it up with fear.
"But I am not like them, I thought. I fill that hope with anger.

"I hear an accent, declared the client, interrumpting the course of my thoughts. In your voice, I mean. Polish ?
- Sokovian, I answered. Although I am not from there.
- Where are you from, then ? she continued."

I decided not to answer. Why would I bother for a mere human, anyways ?

"Now, let me focus, I ordered."

Thanks to the gods, the woman added nothing else. I seperated the deck in three parts.

"The first one is you, I explained. The second one, your lover. And the last one, the future of your relationship."

The client nodded while I took the three parts and laid all cards flat.

"Pick, I then ordered. You have to do it."

The client raised a shaking hand and approached the cards. Her eyes scanned the three heaps, as if she was trying to figure out which card was better, even though she had no idea which was which. While she was doing so, I closed my eyes and tries to focus on myself. I felt the usual knock in my stomach telling me my power was activated. I tried to orientate my forces toward the woman, helping her out in her choice. That was how I did divination.

Once she had picked one, I turned them so she could distinguish which she had sorted, even with the poor lighting of the equally as poor flat I was living in.

On the first one was represented an androgynous character, hanged by his feet. They looked desperate, and they were entangled in horns and red roses.

"The hanged man... I whispered."

On the other one, the scary figure of a red man with a goatie and horns appeared. The client held back a scream when she saw it - and I could understand why. I didn't even need to tell her the name of the card.
The last one was a gorgeous woman, holding some scales and poiting a sword toward the observer.

"Justice.
- Wh-What does it mean ?! the client gasped, terror in her eyes. The devil ?! Explain yourself ! I don't pay you to insult the man of my life !
- Calm down, I retorded as I frowned. If you let me talk, I could explain. (She did as I told, fortunately for her. I steadied myself on my chair, slightly leaning to her) The Hanged Man represents you. It means that you cannot do anything, you are struck, chained down by your thought. You need to let go a bit. The Devil... The Christians see it is the embodiement of evil, but it was once a god symbolising passion and primale desire. It means your so-called "man of your life" is passionate. Whether he is passionate about you, or not, is a different question. Now, Justice... It means "You will get what you deserve"."

My words seemed to calm her down a bit, but she was still startled.

"I will get what I deserve ? she repeated. Is it a "yes", or a "no" ? You're supposed to me help out ! It is just more confusing.
- Sometimes, you get to decide."

My head started to ache so I decided to cast her out. She dropped a few bucks on the table and went away.
I tried to massage my temple to make the pain go away, but I knew it would leave me that easily. I lit up some candles as to get a little bit more light in my gloomy appartment, turned my sofa into a bed, and layed down. I couldn't close my eyes, even though every inch of my body screamed me to sleep.
I hated feeling this miserable, and yet, I would usually be in this state almost everyday. Everytimes I'd try to use my magic, actually. The longer I was separated from Asgard, the less I could wield magic without suffuring from it. And let me tell you, it sucked.

I tried to focus on my breath to calm down a bit, and it worked for a while. My eyes closed by themselves and I was starting to actually relax when I felt observed.
I openned my eyes, my heart pounding into my chest, only to see a stranger, sitting next to the table I previously had worked on.

"Don't you recognize me, sweetheart ? said the stranger. Didn't you predict that ?"