The Tower

Chapter one- Mateo

Chapter one - Mateo
Present time
Mabon
Early  Autumn
23rd September
Eight sun bells

The golden crisp leaves fluttered down the wind in a rhythmic dance. The weight of Mateo's leg atop the withering branch had caused a cascade of falling sunsets from the tree. The leaves put up next to no resistance this late in the autumn. Each dark red hue scattered and crunched along the light morning wind. He cursed lightly under his breath, his brows racing together as the deep lines in his forehead scrunched together. His nose crinkled, meaning that his sigh was accompanied by a soft whistling sound. He gently closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. He had spent many years masking the frustration from his face, it often times occured that he could fool his own mind into transforming his anger into air that he pushed from his lungs in a sharp exhale. This morning presented many sets of challenges. The hardest of which was this mission. Mateo had been in the stiff oak tree for nearly five hours. Usually patients was something he prided himself on, but his sense of calm had been overshadowed by his lust for revenge. Revenge he knew he was about to receive judging by the sound of approaching horses. Maybe he wouldn't have minded so much if times had been kinder, but it seemed as if the cards were not ruling it Mateo's favour.

He should have seen this coming. It was rare to find a morning that he didn't curse himself for not heeding the warnings sonner, of course when this would happen Khari would be there with a warm cup of Herben and even warmer words to will his worries away. He couldn't help the feeling of guilt that overcame him when he looked back on all they'd lost.  It was-
late spring
Beltane
when he'd felt it, it started as a light tug but throughout the finale of the season the urge grew and grew until he couldn't focus on the most mundane of tasks. Khari had taken over watering their lackluster attempt at a herb garden while Mateo placed the crystals into a formation that was reminiscent of a shimmering opal ocean. The tarot cards were practically screaming at him and he felt a throb in his head as he shuffled the deck and pulled the energy from the deep confines of his own power. The crystals had helped to amplify his calling of strength but they were reluctant to do his bidding this time. Back when the pressure of his headaches increased he thought it best to bury the crystals amongst their few belongings since they seemed to be amplifying the pain further. This hadn't bode well with the crystals, and they seemed determined to make him sorry for ignoring them.

Nevertheless, Mateo split and shuffled the deck with remarkable skill. At this point Khari had felt the thrum of Mateo's magic and came inside to investigate. Khari had seen their roommate perform a simple reading more times then they cared to remember however, it didn't matter how many times they saw him mix and shuffle the deck with the grace of a bird in summer wind, they where always in awe of the trance like state that allowed him meld his mind with the cards. Khari noted the strangeness of the reading. Usually their roommate would be neatly separating the cards and deliberating over which energy he was particularly drawn to that day. This process often took ages, Mateo had to be sure of the energy he felt and anyone who knew him would never use the word 'sure' to describe anything he did. But on this occasion he simply split the deck and grabbed a card. His eyes barely flicked between the rest of the deck. His thumb traced over the back of the card as his eyes were stained with dread. Khari saw the emptiness gloss his eyes, as if he already knew the card selected, yet couldn't pick another. Mateo then turned the card in his hand, not for himself, but in courtesy to an unknowing Khari.

The Tower.

Since that day the calling and strange sensations had left their life, as did their good fortune. The card was a warning to be heeded. The next week members of the king's guard had been tipped off that witches were in the area. Mateo and Khari barely escaped with their lives as they fled the town with only their cloaks, weapons and a small bag of supplies. Khari had woken Mateo in the dead of night, tears nearly staining their eyes. Mateo looked into the same emptiness Khari had seen possess him during the reading. When he inquired what was wrong they simply threw the blanket to the floor and said,