by T Shadow
“Come here, Remi. I feel that the cards need to speak.”
“I’m sure they don’t Wanda, you can’t personify the cards. Can we schedule an appointment?”
“No Remi.”
“But I’m busy… raincheck?”
“Remi, sit down. Now.”
Begrudgingly, I place my soon-to-be purchases on the counter and pull up one of the many purple chairs over, turning the counter top into a makeshift desk. Three cards sit in a row, which Wanda told me once was the basic three card spread. Without doing anything at all, they make me nervous and skittish at the same time. I don’t want to know my future.
“There are twenty-two major Arcana and fifty-six minor Arcana cards, but you already know that.” Taking the basic three card spread back, she shuffles again before asking, “focus on the questions you want answered, and not the generic ones either.” Mockingly, she adds, “will I find the love of my life? What does the future hold? Will I win the lottery?”
“I know Wanda, this isn’t the first time and I doubt that it’ll be the last.”
“The cards will determine many complicated futures and attempt to explain your convoluted past for a long while yet, Remi.”
“Don’t remind me, just deal the damn cards.”
She cuts the deck into three piles and places them in a row, signalling the past, present and future. Just has she done many times before, she flips over the top card on each of the piles from left to right. The first is strength, a card that comes up occasionally but not recently within the past month or so. Next is the fool, a card I constantly have reservations about. Lastly, death stares at me in the face and smiles. It’s three sets of cards that necessarily aren’t lumped together in a group, and even Wanda looks confused.
“Huh, I’ve never seen them come out like this before.”
“Me neither, but you’re the tarot master. Tell me my fate, kemosabe.”
Her eyebrows raise at that comment, and I know I’m risking my luck with the poorly thought out nicknames. I happen to think kemosabe is a great term of endearment, but Wanda looks like she’s about to spit nails. Maybe it's time to try out different pet names, hopefully some that don’t make me sound like a condescending twat.
“The cards symbolise your past, present and future. But you already knew that.” Pointing to the first card, strength, she explains its symbolism.
“Strength is tricky in this position, though I believe it’s past events that may be able to help you. You have courage in your heart, and have conquered your animal instincts but it’ll be your memory that will benefit you in all of this.”
“Your present, the fool, is a card that should not be taken in jest. The fool is actually the smartest and most intelligent and not as the fool as most perceive him to be. He is also the symbol of enlightenment, innocence, trust and new beginnings.
Lastly, you have death. Now, he’s not the Grim Reaper in all of this, but he is actually a positive card. Demonstrating that in your future, you will have a rebirth or transformation. You’ll experience power and control in your rebirth that will benefit you for the better.”
We both look up at each other for a while. Those three cards only really demonstrate something that could happen, rather than what will. I wish Wanda was secretly a seer and that all of this shit was totally true, but Wanda is human— I know, I double checked. “So, what question did you think of?”
I look at her questioningly. She never normally asks what I asked the universe. Am I even meant to say? Is it like horoscopes where it’s bad luck to read someone else’s horoscope out loud?
“Are you allowed to ask me that?”
“I don’t think it will hurt, so, what did you ask?”
I hold her eyes with mine. If she wants to know what I asked, then I want to see her reaction.
“Dragons. I asked the cards if the dragons were here for me.”
Holding my eyes for a moment before looking away, she starts putting her cards away— stacking them meticulously before putting them back in the pack. Moving on, she starts picking up my crap and scanning it before packing it up. We stand in silence only until she’s finished placing each item carefully in the bag, making sure not to break anything.
“The cards can only guide you. Make a note of what was drawn today, so you can keep an eye on your progress.”
I go to interject, but my retort is shut off by a swift statement.
“Your total is twenty-four pounds and fifty-eight pence, are you paying with cash or card?”
Wanda’s moods are hot and cold, spiritual epiphanies to strictly business. Discussing the cards in great detail must not be on her list of agendas today and I’m not gonna push her buttons about it.
I tap my card against the card reader and grab my bag, ready to go. Lucius pads around the corner of the counter, his belly swollen and his heart happy. Between the bag and Lucius, I’m gonna have to balance the fat shit and my new belongings in order to make sure they all arrive at the shop safely. The only issue is that Lucius can’t sit around my shoulders whilst bloated to the nines, because peppery farts will spread across the town like wildfire. As I pick up the red fox, I place him over my shoulder like a baby, holding him up by his butt with one hand, and the shopping bag in the other.
Wanda has already retreated into the office, so I make my way out of the Emporium and back to my own cubby hole.
Nevermore Than Enough Books is my home away from home.
•°•
As the day has worn on, the chilly air has been replaced with warm sun and a gentle breeze. Mika had the opportunity to open the shop today, so she’s probably done all of the stacking and shelving by herself. Walking from the Emporium to the shop doesn’t take too long as it's only a few blocks over.
Lucius is still slung over my shoulder like a petulant child, but the door of the bookstore is in reach and it’s not long before I can put the fat shit down. I’ve never wanted children and having a fox has just solidified this decision. My arm aches, and it’ll be miracle if I can make it to the toilet by myself, I get screamed at, at all times of the day, he doesn’t want to eat the food I give him unless it's the way he likes it… he’s just a living, breathing, hellish nightmare.
Pushing the door open, I’m greeted by the smell of books and vanilla incense. Normally, I prefer the sandalwood scent, but Mika was in charge this morning, so it’s her choice. I drop Lucius into one of the armchairs by the door and quickly hand the bag of goodies to Mika who rifles through it immediately. Pulling out the crystal candle holders first— she forgoes putting everything away, only to get the tealights out and lighting them instead.
“You know that’s a fire hazard right? We’re in a bookstore?”
“If you were concerned about tealights being a fire hazard, you wouldn’t have brought them, would you?”
That snarky little shit.
“Well... on that note, keep the open flame away from the damn books.”
“Aye aye cap'n!”
“I’m not the damn captain!”
“You drive the ship, bitch. I’m just here for the ride.”
My arm reacts faster than my brain does. Picking up the book off of the edge of the counter, I quickly bash it against the back of her head, eliciting a small, shrill shriek from Mika. My fast reflexes aid me in being able to move the book away from her reach before she has the thought to grab it from me and bash me over the head with it in retaliation.
Lucius perks his ears up, looks at our sisterly fight and then resumes his nap. Clearly done with our shit, he rides out the rest of his food coma in relative peace. Relative being, his selective hearing has kicked in and he has zero fucks to give. Not that he ever has any fucks to give.
Mika however? She has several fucks to give. She’s rubbing the back of her head where I bonked her. “When did you grow a set of balls?” I wiggle my index finger at her, but I keep my distance. “You might be here for the ride, bitch, but you’ll go down with the ship if the Captain sinks t
he fucker.”
Her eyes cross as she concentrates on my still-wiggling finger. From underneath that hood, those mismatched eyes peek out like luminescent orbs; the only light in a shroud of darkness. “Does that mean you’re planning on sinking the ship sometime soon?” It’s a question that catches me off guard and unsuspecting.
“Depends on what ship we’re talking about.”
“Maybe the dragon ship?”
“... what are you expecting to happen with the dragons, Mika?”
The mass of black fabric shrugs and sighs simultaneously. Sitting up on the stool, she rubs her sleeve covered hands over her eyes, like she’s wiping them to gain clarity. The dragons have put us both on edge but Mika more so, only for my safety. I see her mop of blonde hair, tangled and dishevelled under her hood, the dark circles under her eyes and her more than usual pale skin; and it worries me.
Maybe our advice can be exchanged, I can help Mika feel better in herself and she can help me with my… big issue. Issues.
“Remi, I think you need to embrace and face your past. Not so head on, but you need to face it.”
It takes a lot of courage for Mika to speak up, especially about issues that concern me. My past, my life… she knows it hurts, but she doesn’t know the whole story.
“Mika, did I ever mention anything to you about what happened years ago?”
Her head raises and her eyes peer into mine. It’s a questioning look, one that wants answers but doesn’t want to ask the necessary questions. How do I tell my close friend something that would break her heart more than it broke my own? Gently, I guess.
Putting my hand on her shoulder, I pull her over to the sofa and pop her down on it. A second before I seat myself, I pick Lucius up and position him on the sofa between us. Stroking his fur, I begin the story of my shattered past.
Four hundred and fifty years ago in the center of the Dragon Realm, I’m running for my life. For the safety of my family, I’m leaving everything behind to protect their lives. At the center, where the home of Lord and Lady Draconis resides, there is an uproar. Someone has murdered them in cold blood. Naturally, there’s only a few suspects. A servant, the house manager, a few of the guards and me. But why me? Because I was the First Knight of the Lord’s Guard.
A prestigious honour, I’m the first female to ever gain the position as the highest member of the guard. I was the commander who led the Lord’s Guard into battle. I had the respect of many of the guards as I worked my way through the ranks to prove myself. The only person who ever had an issue with me was the Lord’s son Luciano, the first of his name.
Upon his parent’s brutal murder, instead of investigating this heinous act, he flew into a murderous rage and blamed the one person he despised the most— me. Despite the fact that I was nowhere near the estate that night, I was framed and accused of treason and murder, and was forced to flee my home and position in order to save myself.
As I turned up at my sister’s house that morning she had already heard the news, and understood the severity of it. Standing on the step outside her front door, she thrust a pack at me and told me to run. Don’t come back, don’t look back.
So I never did.
The silence in the place is lingering like a cloud before a downpour, weighted with water just before the deluge comes crashing down on us. I’d describe the moment as the calm before the storm, but our squall isn’t one where we’re fighting perilously. Storms are different depending on the severity of it— they can be interpreted in many ways, but my storm is consoling Mika in a moment of realisation and overwhelming trepidation.
Her hands are gently stroking Lucius. Dastardly fox and unprofessional therapy animal, Lucius is one way that Mika can cool down and cope with unexpected news. I see unshed tears in her eyes and I find it incredibly difficult to tell her that everything will be alright. I can’t promise my friend that everything will be okay when even I don’t know the severity of the situation.
It’s only when I feel a small hand clasp mine that I squeeze back. An unspoken confirmation and promise wrapped up in one. Without telling me the words and sentences in her head, Mika continues to have my back. Her perspective however, has most likely changed.
“So, did everyone think that you did it?”
“I can’t say for sure, but many agreed with my position and battle tactics whilst I was the First Knight. No one ever showed me disrespect, and the late Lord was very proud of my ascension through the ranks. If anything, that man treated me better than he treated his own son. So no, I don’t believe that anyone thought I did it, but they may have been convinced otherwise.”
“Why would they need convincing that you did it?”
“So that someone else could sit on the throne and wear the crown without consequence.”
"Many people will do anything for power…" her voice fades off, sad and disappointed at the actions of others around us.
I can only incline my head in response— there's not much else I can say, considering the betrayal I experienced at the hands of someone so gluttonous for power that they would willingly choke on it.
She went through a similar situation when she was back with her family. She might not be royalty, but she was the eldest of her siblings set to inherit something. That's all changed now she's been exiled. Something we have in common, a comedic tragedy. A good life plagued with peril and strife, forsaking us and others around us. It's only through our shattered pasts that we've managed to survive and persevere through this shitty thing we call life.
Mika's shoulders drop on the exhale of her sigh, almost as if the weight of my life is weighing her down. I’d never wish either of our shattered pasts on any poor soul, but unfortunately, some souls deserve the wrath and vengeance that’ll be brought down on them. Thankfully whoever was watching my living hell of a life must have got busy and turned away for a few centuries.
Our conversation seems to have moved from the serious nitty-gritty to the comfortable silence we both share. The only thing that solidifies this is that Mika moves herself to lay her head in my lap, pulling Lucius into the curve of her chest. We’re cuddled up on the sofa in a metaphorical puppy pile, which would be great— if the door to the shop didn’t just open in the aftermath of an emotional breakdown.
The person standing in the doorway is the last person I’d expect to ruin my puppy pile. I figured that it could be Mr. Grigori or even Verity, but no, the person who came in was that dipshit from the other day… Landon.
You know, that guy who literally screamed in my face about being a superior being the other day? Yep, him. Except now, he looks like a scolded puppy with his tail in between his legs, rather than a big, ferocious and superior dragon. Standing on the edge of the entryway, he looks over at us , slightly confused. What, has the guy never seen a two-women-one-fox puppy pile before? Amateur.
Fortunately, for everyone involved, it’s me who speaks first. “So… you gonna come in and close the door? You’re letting all of the heat out.” The bookstore doesn’t really retain any heat so the saying goes down like a lead balloon. Landon mustn’t notice or realise the sarcasm, but he shuts the door anyway. Standing as still as a statue, he’s moved just inside of the doorway, but he still hasn’t moved from that spot and his eyes are looking everywhere except at us.
“So, you’re here for a reason...?”
“You know, for a book, perhaps?” Mika’s voice that cuts through the underlying tension with the sarcastic retort. It’s hilarious that it comes from her, the small female that’s curled up on my lap cuddling the fox to her chest. It’s hard to seem intimidating whilst curled up on the sofa together, but I’m trying to accumulate all of the best intimidation techniques and school them into my features. I probably look as intimidating as a kitten, but I’m trying.
As I raise my eyebrow at Landon, I wait a while until he gains his composure. A few unsure movements here, a couple of gulps and some silent shuffling is all that we receive in terms of communication for a couple of mom
ents. Dressed in what I can only assume would be cold-weather clothes, Landon is covered head to toe in fabrics that reveal only his hands and his head. Clad in a large puffer jacket, jeans and boots, Landon seems as if he’s ready to fight off the cold rather than embrace it.
“I’ve come to…”
“To?”
“Apologise…”
Ah. Right. Well, I wasn’t really expecting that to be honest. The last thing dragons are known for are their empathy and ability to apologise, let alone acknowledge that they were wrong in the first place. But this good looking, blonde haired, blue eyed, God like bastard has managed to stun me into absolute silence. Why are most people seriously good looking? It makes them harder to stay mad at.
May I just clarify also that just because he’s good looking, does not mean that I have suddenly been struck by amnesia. He’s still a dragon, I still have my guard up. Of course, I have my guard up— one does not willingly walk into the lion’s cage. Or rather, one does willingly walk into my bookstore to apologise; one would rather sooner run away.
"Ah, right… so… apologise away then."
Pushing Mika up into a sitting position, we both sit on the sofa as if we're heading a sales pitch in the Dragon's Den rather than listening to someone apologise. You’re probably thinking that it’s just another intimidation technique, but honestly, how can you apologise to someone whilst they’re cuddling with someone else? Awkward as fuck, let me tell ya.
Folding his hands in front of his stomach, Landon raises his dark brown eyes to mine in a moment of sincerity. For a moment I’m lost in those chocolate pools; ensnaring me in his gaze, I’m lost momentarily in a sea of storms. Breath is stolen from me for just a second, my heart slows to dangerous lows before my brain decides that living is actually a great idea. Enamoured by his eyes, the reason for his visit escapes me before I’m brought back to reality.