She placed the cards one by one in a fluid, ritualistic motion. She turned the first one over.
The Queen of Spades. A familiar image from poker games in his time on Earth. But something was wrong with it, the ink seemed to swim, the edges blurring before his eyes. The fortune teller's voice cut through his confusion. "The Queen of Spades. Judgment. Logic. Cold intellect. Someone you have already met, or have not yet, will become their own downfall by their own judgment, their own sense of duty…"
She turned the second card. The Ace of Hearts. "Mmm. A pivotal moment. A deciding factor. A heart, long closed off, finally shows itself… or perhaps it is love given, but unreturned."
The third card flipped. "Oh my…" she breathed, a hint of genuine surprise in her rasp. "The Ace of Spades. A deciding moment of a different kind. The choice between saving one's true self… or saving the false narrative they have built. A moment of choosing one's own fate, one's own path."
She looked up at him, though her eyes remained hidden in the hat's deep shadow. "The fourth… this is the representation of you. Your thread of Fate. By turning this over, you will know it, and thus will not be able to change it. If you say no, your fate remains unknown, unseen, but still impending. It allows for… blissful ignorance."
Lucid stared at the single face-down card. After a beat, he nodded. "Turn it."
She smiled, her lips stretching into an expression so deeply cunning it sent a chill down his spine. "Hmmm." Her finger tapped the card's edge.
She flipped it.
Blank.
A pristine white poker card, devoid of any marking. No hearts, no spades, no clubs, no diamonds. No number, no face. Nothing.
She looked at it, her slightly parted lips freezing before twisting into a grin so wide and unsettling it had Lucid gripping the edge of his seat. Her perfect teeth seemed almost predatory in that moment.
"Oh… my. Oh… my," she whispered, the rasp in her voice vibrating with something like awe and perverse delight. "It seems even I cannot see what is foretold…"
"What does it mean?" Lucid demanded, a spike of frustration piercing through his usual apathy.
"I do not know," she said abruptly.
"How it's your job? You're supposed to be good at this."
"My, how rude of you, especially to someone you have just met, young traveler." She fell quiet for a long moment, her head tilted as she studied the blank card. "A blank slate… clear as the sky. These cards represent individuals who shall decide the reckoning of this kingdom… or perhaps not." She scooped up the cards, including the blank one, with a swift motion, making them vanish into her sleeve.
"Reckoning?" Lucid pressed.
"I have said enough. It was nice meeting you, young man." Her smile remained, but her tone shifted back to casual, almost airy.
"This is my gift." She extended a hand from within her voluminous sleeve, not toward him, but upward. From the base of his chest up to his neck, a soft gold-white light blossomed, gentle and warm.
"Hey!" Lucid jerked back in his chair.
"Just a little something… in case you find yourself tangled in her threads." She shot a wink from the darkness beneath the hat's rim. "Have faith. May Mother Fate grant you the best possible outcome."
"Wait!"
Everything turned into a blur. The world began to dissolve at the edges. The woman's laughter echoed, not a cackle, but a light, ethereal sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. The wooden table he sat at disintegrated into shimmering motes of light. The chair beneath him vanished. He fell backward, landing hard on the cobblestone street with a grunt.
He blinked, scrambling to his knees.
She was gone. The table, the chairs, the striped awning, all of it had vanished as if it had never been there. The spot by the fence was empty.
"What the…?" Lucid muttered, pushing himself to his feet and brushing dust from his clothes. The encounter felt like a fever dream, but the lingering warmth on his skin from that strange light, and the vivid memory of the blank white card, felt more real than the solid stone beneath his boots. The bustling, orderly street around him suddenly felt less substantial than the fortune teller's cryptic words.
***
He walked on, finding his way blocked when he tried to re-enter the upper royal citadel area. It seemed Karmen's pendant had its limits outside of the residential zones, its access not extending to the heart of Vexian authority. Turning back, he aimlessly navigated toward the west block, letting his feet carry him with no real destination. Maybe it was to overshadow the hollow feeling in his chest, or just to occupy his mind. He couldn't say he was enjoying it, but the act of moving, of seeing new streets and buildings, did keep the worst of the thoughts at bay.
He turned a corner and saw a park full of young kids in neat uniforms, accompanied by stern-looking tutors. They were playing a structured, quiet game. 'Rich kids...' he thought with a flicker of distant disdain, and moved on.
He turned another corner. This time, he didn't expect what he saw.
A building—no, a mansion—so large it dominated the entire city block. It was constructed of shimmering glass, gold filigree, and expansive, flawless stone that spanned an impossible length and height. It wasn't just a building; it was a statement of power and knowledge.
"The academy," he thought, the name arriving in his mind as he read the elegant, flowing script over the grand, wrought-iron gates.
Just then, a flood of adolescents began pouring out from those gates. They wore uniforms: simple blue long-sleeved shirts with ties and dark blazers for the boys, white blouses with blue vests and black skirts for the girls. They chattered and laughed, the sound a bright, alien hum in the orderly air.
As Lucid walked a little closer to the gate, he drew attention. Of course he did. His worn travel clothes, his battered appearance, and the faint, mist-like haze clinging to his face marked him as an outsider, a nuisance in this pristine public space. Feeling the weight of their curious stares, he decided to walk away, turning sharply.
*Thump.*
"Ouch!" Lucid grunted as a small but solid impact caught him in the side.
A girl with a mess of ginger hair and glasses too large for her face scrambled on the ground, trying to recover a scattered pile of textbooks and scrolls.
"Oh! I am so sorry!" she squeaked, her voice flustered.
He knelt, helping to gather the papers. She looked up as he handed her a stack, her large emerald eyes, magnified by the thick lenses, widening as they met his. She had fair skin dotted with freckles.
"Sir… your face," she murmured, more curious than afraid.
"Is shrouded in mist. Yeah, I know," he replied, a touch of weary sheepishness in his tone.
He stood up, and she quickly followed, clutching her books to her chest.
"My name is Mary. I'm a second-year in the Academy of Vex," she said with a formal little bow of her head.
"I'm Lucid…"
"That's a wonderful name! I major in Fate Resonance and Fate Conjuring. Are you new? I could show you around!" Her offer was eager, genuine.
"No, I—" he began, scrambling for a polite excuse when a distant chime echoed through the academy grounds.
"Oh! I'm afraid I'm late for my seminar! It was lovely to meet you, kind sir Lucid!" She gave another quick bow and then hurried off, her ginger hair bouncing.
"Alice," he spoke inwardly as he watched her go.
"For someone who doesn't hesitate to harm females, you have a surprisingly gentle side," Alice observed, her tone a mix of curiosity and dry commentary.
"Ah, partner!"
Lucid turned. It was the young knight. "Remember, Lucid. Frederick," Alice supplied helpfully in his mind.
Frederick stood there, dressed in the same academy uniform, though his blazer was draped casually over one shoulder. He held a bundle of study materials in his other hand. He looked utterly at home amidst the scholarly youth.
"So? Have you decided?" Frederick asked, a confident smile on his face.
"Decided what?"
Frederick chuckled. "The invitation. I went ahead and drafted a letter. The academy president was entirely against it, of course, but I managed to throw in a good word. Made quite the case."
"Wow… I'm flattered," Lucid said, his voice flat. "But why? Shouldn't we be, you know, capturing the culprit or something?"
"Of course. Of course we should," Frederick agreed easily, his smile not fading. "It's all part of the plan. Just trust me. Join the academy, and we'll have a much better chance of acting on the culprit in no time. It's the perfect cover, and you'll have access to resources. What do you say?"
Lucid looked from Frederick's earnest face to the imposing, shimmering facade of the academy, then back to the knight. He let out a long, slow sigh. The path of least resistance seemed to be pointing straight through those gilded gates.