Quasi Onion

“Has something new happened in your life?” the miqo’te asked.

“Yes,” said the client.

Reonora awaited further elaboration but no further words left the client’s mouth. Only a dark, downcast gaze gave Reonora any indication of an initial impression. And this didn’t seem to be a good one. “And is a man involved? Particularly a man with a glib tongue?”

“Yes.”

“Did you buy a house together?”

“Yes.”

As was once said many times by those around her, the cards were trusted friends that provided hints. Only through one’s intuition could the reader divine the message. However, even though the cards painted a clear picture, Reonora had no read on her client aside from a darkening gaze.

‘Perhaps the client was the one who bought the house herself? Otherwise why would she feel such unease concerning her future?’ Reonora wondered.

A moment of silence passed between the two. At least this time, the woman looked up at Reonora expectantly. The miqo’te took this glance as a sign to proceed with the actual reading. At least the short answers gave her a little better context. Gently waving a hand across the spread, Reonora spoke.

"A man returns home from his journey. With this, a promise of a new life and home. Yet, despite him spreading the word of his happiness, you face uncertainty of your future. Will this be the start of a new life together? You seem uncertain if you will be happy or if there will be future problems at home.”

Uncomfortable silence. The woman’s gaze fell once more, her expression darkening faster than a sudden squall. No good?

Finally, the client spoke. “That’s it?”

No good indeed. Reonora suddenly felt uncomfortable in her constellation attire.

“That’s what the cards say. Are you worried about something?” Reonora asked, hoping the question would bridge the client to at least speak of the situation. After all, what was a divinator but a counselor with cards?

However, the woman seemed to be more of the skeptical variety, as she pursed her lips. “This seems awfully vague. I don’t understand what it’s trying to say–it’s unclear. What problems are they talking about?”

“Perhaps how this man seems so eager to boast to others about his happiness. Is there anything else he would be talking about?” Reonora asked.

“I don’t think that’s what it means. Tell me, what does this card mean?” The client pressed her finger firmly on top of The Ship. “And this? And this?” Another firm pressed onto The House.

Reonora winced as she felt the woman’s energies seep onto her stolen keepsake. “Please don’t touch the cards–”

“And this one?” Nothing but the firmest finger press onto The Clouds. This touch even lingered for a good length of time, as though the client knew better than to heed Reonora’s meek request.

‘Ah. She’s one of those clients—the kind of whom would rather interpret the reading herself.” Swallowing her small tinge of her annoyance, she spoke as flatly and neutrally as possible. “The Clouds means confusion or doubt.”

“Are they telling me to go home and get my shit together?!” the client snapped.

“I already said what I believe the message is to be.”

The client shot to her feet. “I can’t get anything from this. I knew this would be a waste of time.”

Reonora said nothing in response. She sat, staring off into the thousand yards in front of her, her eyes narrowed, as the client stormed up the stairs and out of Fortunes & Fancies. The walls shook as the door slammed behind her.

Sigh.

Making wiping gestures to hopefully rid the cards of the woman’s energies, Reonora placed her deck back in the box. ‘If mother were here, her message would have been as clear as day. Perhaps I am just a fraud? Am I not meant to follow in her footsteps? Perhaps this should only be done by someone with Nymeia’s gift. Not like someone like me… someone like me…’

Reonora leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She envisioned herself as a young girl back in her old home in the Forgotten Springs. How recruiters from the Temple of Nymeia asked Reonora to predict the weather on four dates of the upcoming year like she was supposed to know. How they and her mother smiled expectantly, hopefully. After all, the daughter of Nymeia’s greatest. Surely this girl possessed the gift as well! But when all results came out wrong, Reonora remembered the bowed heads, the disappointed frowns, the recruiters never returning, and her mother growing distant that day.

Perhaps they were right. Perhaps Reonora knew she was chasing nothing more than a flight of fancy she didn’t deserve.

Returning the box into a drawer, she quickly changed out of her black dress and into her usual business attire. “Rosemary, if you don’t mind, can you please cancel any further appointments for the day?”

“Eh? Is something the matter, mistress?” Rosemary, the blonde lalafell behind the desk, asked.

“I can take up the clients if you want.” Joey, the blond viera-no-longer-a-lalafell, added quickly.

“Then… thank you,” said Reonora. “I apologise—I know this is unprofessional of me, but I need to take a walk.”

Taking a page from her client and not giving another word, Reonora quietly left Fortunes & Fancies.

-

Two weeks later, Reonora reappeared at the aetheryte plaza in Limsa Lominsa. The moment she reappeared, she heard a familiar voice in the crowd—a voice she had only heard once, yet had become unmistakably etched in her memory.

That of her unresponsive client.

“–and then can you believe the nerve of him? I found him flirting! With someone else! I knew that marriage was too good to be true! So I kicked him out–he’s no longer a tenant, and swiftly got a divorce! Good riddance! But you know, that’s just my luck. It’s not like I could’ve seen that coming. I’m so glad you’re here in my life to look out for me–”

Reonora stared into space, dumbfounded, but once she caught sight of the client, she quickly veered in the other direction. She found herself biting her lip. ‘Truly if mother or someone else were here, they would have gotten the message across better than me…’

“I sense something magical behind this door, but I can’t find another means to open the door besides the provided whatever’s attached…” Joey peered around the door’s outer edges. “I’m curious to know what it is. If only I can find some way to open it. Hmm… is there a trick to this door? Maybe some kind of secret switch? I can’t seem to find anything else that can help us open the door at all–”

Teremy put his hand on Joey’s shoulder and gave the viera a gentle tug backwards. “Stand back.”

 Joey did as he was told and took a few steps back. “Wait, Teremy. What–”

CRASH.

The shattering of wood and splinters flying everywhere in front of Joey’s eyes answered his question. Joey watched, stunned, as a well-placed kick not only felled the door, but destroyed it. Only an archway and indents from the side of the hinges where the metallic pieces used to stay left any indication that a door had once remained.

Behind the door sat a giant ewer of ornate decoration, radiating magical energies just as Joey had surmised. However, the joy of such discovery had washed away in the face of Joey’s shock.

Nanamo raced over as fast as her short legs could carry her.  “That great noise gave me quite a scare. Is everyone all right?” Unperturbed, she peered into the archway. “'Twould seem you discovered the custodian's closet. Have you heard the Ul'dahn folktale of the magicked ewer? 'Tis said that it could scoop up any amount of water at once, and was locked away after it drained an entire oasis.” She placed a hand to her chin. “Talk of jugs behind barred doors reminded me of the legend, is all. Shall we continue on?”

As Nanamo headed through the gate, Teremy turned to Joey, grinned, and gestured to the former door with his thumb. “Found it,” he said triumphantly and followed the sultana.

The shock of Teremy’s less than refined methods still left Joey in a state of disbelief. Until his mind allowed him to move, he stared incredulously at the miqo’te. When Joey came to, the first thing he did was express his feelings in words.

His red eyes glanced around the room with his usual and unintentional sharp gaze. Near the back of the room, a small cluster of guards gathered around. One even pressed his hand to his ear to communicate through linkpearl. Their voices remained hushed enough as to not alert any of the guests, yet words crept through Joey’s mind in a voice that sounded like his, but words of other origin.

Someone… not here… dangerous… find…

‘So I’m not just imagining things. They must be looking for someone. Then where did this thought come from?’ Joey wondered. ‘I’m not just being neurotic, am I?’

Only the white noise of lively chatter answered his paranoid questions. He had a feeling that if he told anyone then surely someone would pat him on the back, tell him to loosen up, enjoy the festivities, and all sorts of things people reiterated to him over the years. Who knew? Perhaps those past and future voices were right. Maybe the tension came from his discomfort. Even now, he couldn’t help but compare everyone’s formal, well-decorated attire to his bright red coat. He felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb, but in the worst way possible. The more his thoughts landed at the idea that someone could possibly be staring at him, the more he fidgeted.

He had to get his mind off of his nervousness. Somehow. Some kind of distraction. Anything.

‘Well, let’s say I’m not being paranoid and there is an assassin here. I mean, why else would the guards be making some sort of coordinated effort?’ Joey glanced to where he had seen the guards to see that they had completely dispersed. ‘Now let’s say I was an assassin. Where would I be lurking?’

He glanced out the window.

‘A sniper? Possibly, but considering the number of guards outside the building…’

Seeing as one of the guests finally decided to eat, Joey quietly helped himself to a few bunches of grapes. Quietly, of course, just in case he got in trouble for being unworthy to touch some sacred food of the rich.

Another quick glance around the room showed those same guards still within the wall’s confines.

‘Then this assassin is somewhere inside the building? This same room?’

No one will ever detect knife hidden under my dress. Just one casual chipper, a clumsy fall and an accidental scratch and–oops!

Joey blinked.

Either Joey’s paranoia had soared to dangerous levels, his imagination was so bored it weaved further tales in his head, or there was indeed an assassin in a room.

At that very moment, a well-dressed hyur sauntered slowly and casually within eye-shot. His gaze pretended to look very interested in a nearby potted plant but instead looked at the position of her hands. Sure enough, her fingers pointed downwards, careful not to touch anyone or anything, especially her own person.

‘That has to be her.’ Joey reasoned. ‘All right. If I’m just imagining things, then I’m in a world of trouble. But if I’m right…’

As Joey’s thoughts spun, the woman continued to saunter towards Alphinaud.

‘There’s only one way to know for sure.’

More thoughts formed in Joey’s head–this time concrete thoughts that painted a picture in his head, contingency scenarios in case something else were to happen, but all pointing into one direct plan. He began to walk towards her from her right, looking forward while keeping an eye on her position from the corner of his eye.

‘If I’m wrong, then it’s better to be wrong than if I was right and did nothing.’

His mind was made up. And his plan soon reached its first stage when he walked directly in front of her. The hyur bumped into him, causing her to recoil a few steps back as though she had ran into a brick wall. The force of the impact was so great, in fact, that she sailed backwards, about to make first-hand collision to the ground. With a look of feigned concern, Joey reached out towards her and grabbed the side of her dress. He yanked his arm upwards, appearing to try and pull her back up, but instead, her dress tore.

“By the twelve, I’m so sorry for my clumsiness!” Joey cried–both to alert the people around him, and to mask himself simultaneously casting a sleep spell.

He never needed to chant to cast magic. And thankfully, the would-be assassin had no such immunity to magic either, as not even his cries nor the murmurs of the crowd stirred the hyur from slumber. For a brief moment, Joey wondered if he had caused a scene for nothing, and mentally prepared for his impending embarrassment. But his doubts and paranoia quickly faded away in the reality that laid before him.

A knife laid bare on a holster wrapped around the hyur’s thigh. Joey hadn’t been hearing things.

Joey opened his mouth to announce his feigned surprise about the knife, but in the end, he didn’t have to say anything. The three guards who had given themselves a mission to apprehend someone dangerous had found their target. Joey took a few steps back so he didn’t get in the way of the guards doing their jobs. A few shouts from the guards later and soon each manner of guest were quickly shuffled out of the room.

“It’s never a dull moment in one of these gatherings, isn’t it?” quipped the voice of Alisaie. Joey looked to his left to see Alisaie standing beside him.

“Then let’s take this as a sign that we’ve worn out our welcome, shall we?” said Alphinaud at Joey’s other side. “Perhaps it’s time we make our own exit as well.”

Joey nodded. He had nothing else to add.

The viera found himself quickly shuffled out of the room. Just before he left, he looked to see the guards had found other manner of dangers on the would-be assassin, such as a vial that no doubt contained some form of toxins. Perhaps that would be a story for another day, but at the very least, Joey breathed a sigh of relief that everyone–especially the envoy in question–was safe.

Kaito is the story’s protagonist. Kaiken is Kaito’s twin brother, and Go is their father. This part takes place when the brothers are 12 years old. (The brothers are 21 in the story proper.)

Kaiken, who had been practicing various ballet moves to pass the time, walked over and slapped a firm hand on Kaito’s shoulder. “Then Kaito can come to the tryout. See what it’s like to be me in person.”

‘It’s not like I don’t ever want to,’ Kaito thought bitterly.

Go’s frown deepened. “I don’t want Kaito to go. This matter is between Kaiken and Coach Kurote alone.”

“Why not?” Kaiken shot back. “It’s not like Kaito’ll be participating or anything. I don’t see the problem.”

Kaito flinched. His brother’s words stung harder than any punch the elder twin landed on him. Father, Kaito expected nothing less out of him, but his own brother? Kaito shook his head. Kaiken was right and once again, Kaito’s destiny was to sit quietly in the shadows. Kaito bowed his head, only to snap out of his reverie when Kaiken’s grip tightened. Not threatening, but firm. Reassuring.

Like how Kaiken used to do.

‘Kaiken, what are you…? Even after you…? I don’t get you. I don’t get you at all.’

But then something about Kaiken’s grip made Kaito do a double take. Like a ripple effect that slowly escalated from just a small push, Kaito felt a quiver—subtle, but gradually increasing in intensity.