Page 20 of To No End

I admired that my father wanted to be protective as long as I was still his to protect. I knew as my time here dwindled, it hadto be eating away at him. I could tell because dark circles were beginning to form around his steely green eyes.

Perhaps he hadn’t been sleeping, or maybe he’s been trying to find some way to get me out of my obligation, but I already knew that it was fruitless. I wasn’t about to get my hopes up.

I stopped by the kitchen and grabbed a couple of small items to snack on along the way and a giant canteen of water. I looked around at the kitchen staff, who were utterly annoyed that I was helping myself. It was more apparent than ever how ridiculous it was to have staff on hand to do these simple things for us, especially after yesterday. I’m quite capable of making myself a lunch to go.

Upon arriving at the stable, the eager hand greeted me. He was sharper than I gave him credit for, because today he asked me which saddle I preferred. Once again, I pointed to the unmarked saddle, and he quickly began tightening all the straps around Rain. He blushed when I thanked him, and I left, making my way beyond our land into the still fog-ridden forest.

Rain sprinted for what seemed like ages, weaving through the shadowless forest. In the distance, I saw a small, dilapidated cottage and pulled the reins to slow him into a steady trot. As we got closer, I could make out the aged hand-painted wooden sign which readFortunes, Favors, & Fatesand had the symbol of the three crescent moons of Demir on it.

It had to be a Seer’s establishment. I had never encountered a place like this, but had heard of them in an eccentric bedtime story or two when I was little. People said that some Seers can only be found when meant to be, as if they had some ability to disappear and reappear at will.

I nervously approached, clutching the leather reins uncomfortably. I glanced around in all directions, concerned. There were many reasons that I should have ridden on and ignored this place, but there was an aching curiosity thatpropelled me forward. Was I being opportunistic or foolish? I quietly dismounted and tied off Rain on the short, rickety picket fence surrounding the house.

The area was lush with flora, but the overgrowth in this particular yard had taken over every inch of the exterior of the house. A giant dead tree that appeared to be charred loomed over the cottage and was anything but welcoming. It was out of the ordinary, one giant dead tree surrounded by all the teeming green. I wasn’t sure if anyone was even home. There were no obvious signs such as smoke coming out of the chimney or candlelight illuminating the glass windows.

I was hesitant to knock, but still curious enough to see if this supposed Seer had any legitimacy. Maybe, by chance, I’d get some insight into what my dark unknown future held.

Before I even lifted my hand to knock, the door opened, and before me—or rather, below me—stood an old tiny female who looked like she hadn’t seen daylight in a very long time. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, and her tangled hair was a mess; her skin pale, almost gray and sickly. Her fingers were bony, but none of that was the most shocking part—it was her wings.

Her wings were out on display. And not in the poised way you might think one would show them off; instead, they were just there, calmly folded behind her shoulders. They were almost bigger than she was. Each wing contained the same mesmerizing pattern you’d commonly see on a moth. A gradient of browns, black, and beige, all culminated in a circle that looked like an eye assessing me. One on each wing.

I must have been stunned, mouth agape, because she remarked in a displeased raspy voice, “Are you going to stand there and stare or come inside?”

I certainly was staring. It was extremely rare for Fae to have their wings out, especially in any sort of casual manner. But hereshe was, answering the door for a stranger with her wings out, as if it meant nothing at all.

Wing display was typically only used in times of defense, either to shield or fly. Some Fae wouldn’t even show their wings at all, unless in the presence of their mate. Thousands of years ago, wing type provided evolutionary advantages to adapt to the region and climate where one had settled. As time passed, Fae clans expanded their boundaries across the lands and cultures blended together, making their wings more indicative of their lineage.

She turned her back to me and with one long spindly finger ushered me to follow her into the home. With her back to me, I was able to get an even better view of the majestic moth-like patterning.

“Girl, do you always gawk like this? It’s very rude.”

I tried to make an excuse, “I’m sorry, I didn’t…I mean, no one ever shows off their wings where I’m from.”

She interrupted, “Yes, yes you particular Fae and your silly customs, etiquette, and nonsense. I don’t subscribe to that.”

She waved her hand in all directions, and with each passing gesture, little candles began to flicker to life throughout the house, unveiling what could only be described as a hoarder’s treasure trove.

Every inch of the walls and floors was covered in things. Dusty books, knick-knacks, paintings, sculptures. Nothing was adequately displayed or even cared for, just piled all around. I had likely already offended her once, so I did my best to conceal my reaction and seated myself in the chair across from her at a small cloth-covered table.

She leaned forward in her chair and put her hand out to greet me. “I’m Asterius, but you can call me Aster if you’d like.”

Despite her lack of refinement, she knew the proper etiquette, holding her hand out to me flat, palm facing upward inaccordance with the Fae custom. I noticed an odd black mark around her wrist, almost like a handprint. She caught my stare and quickly pulled down the sleeve of her dress. I placed my hand gently on top of hers and held it there for a moment. The icy touch of her skin sent a chill up my spine, and I did my best to spit out a flustered introduction in return.

“I’m Cress. I like your name, it’s very beautiful.”

There was no sign of warmth in her cheeks like a normal reaction when someone received a compliment. She nodded and pulled her hand away from mine.

Between us on the table was a large, round, golden bowl, at least a foot wide, filled almost to the brim with water. I’d never been to a Seer, but had heard that the way in which they use their gift can vary. Some needed to touch you, while others used cards, stones, or other natural materials. Some were believed to have visions in their dreams. And still, some even claimed they could convene with the dead.

Most people avoided Seers, due to the abundant rumors. Some said that the payment was steep, or that it required dark bargains to be fulfilled. She was very odd, but she did not scare me. At least, not yet.

“What brings such a beautiful young thing to my doorway? Seeking answers, are we?” She clasped her hands together, resting her fingertips against one another.

“I’d like to know what my future entails,” I replied softly.

She let out a snort and rolled her eyes. “Well, child, if you wanted to know your past you wouldn’t be here now, would you?”

I was feeling sillier and more uneasy as each minute passed. I pondered for a moment, and then I re-worded the question. “I want to know if I have a future.”

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